Elijah was disgusted.

  Part of it came from the situation, and rightly so. The notion that someone from Argos, of all places, hated him enough to participate in an assassination attempt against him gutted Elijah in a way he couldn’t quite explain. For as long as he could remember, his relationship with that population had bordered on hero worship. They’d loved him almost from the very beginning.

  And yet, the girl thief whose name he still didn’t know had hired Gunnar to kill him. More troublingly, the Daughters of Deianira had originated in the Greek city. Had he done something to offend them? Had he inadvertently caused them some grief? The questions haunted him as he traversed the Undercity.

  The setting was the second part of his loathing. For all that Isaiah had created a beautiful and vibrant city on the surface, the bowels of Seattle were even more depressing than he remembered. Everywhere he looked, he saw just how much the population had been mistreated.

  And the worst part was that the people weren’t overtly mistreated. They had food. They had shelter. They were given jobs that might allow them to rise above their current stations. Yet, it all felt like a mirage. Or a bandage concealing a rotting wound. Healers were at a premium, the food was no more than a nutrient delivery system, and the jobs were backbreaking and would never lead to anything but more labor.

  In short, it was the sort of dystopic city that usually only showed up in movies and books meant to satirize capitalism.

  Did it work?

  Assuredly, it did. The people went to their jobs, worked their long shifts, then returned to their government-issued hovels to rest up for the next cycle. They weren’t even that productive. People with appropriate classes would have done the work far more efficiently. And Elijah suspected that the system only existed because the government knew they would need to support the population anyway. So, they’d decided to get at least some return on their investment.

  It was a cynical way of looking at people, but Elijah couldn’t deny that it was an effective means of control, both of the city’s production and of the people who made up the bulk of its population.

  But the subterranean complex was so sterile and disconnected from nature that he couldn’t help but look at it with that now-familiar feeling of revulsion. Would it have killed them to plant a few trees? There were plenty of varieties that could grow underground, as evidenced by Elijah’s experiences in the Hollow Depths. But that clearly wasn’t one of Isaiah’s priorities.

  Not that Elijah thought the leader of Seattle was solely responsible for the state of the Undercity. Isaiah was a lot of things, but he was not overtly cruel. If he knew a better way, he would have taken it. And besides, it wasn’t as if he was in complete control of his city. He obviously wasn’t, as Gunnar’s reports had made clear.

  He knew all of that, just as he suspected that the Undercity’s existence represented the government’s best efforts at dealing with an unprecedented situation. But that didn’t mean it was acceptable. They needed to do better, though Elijah was at a loss how to fix it.

  Ultimately, that was the issue. Most people were entirely capable of recognizing when something wasn’t working the way it was meant to. The problem came from a misunderstanding as to the factors that led to the problem in the first place. And that complexity meant that fixing it was anything but simple.

  For instance, Elijah was well aware that many of the Undercity dwellers had chosen unproductive classes. Many more were simply unwilling to do what they needed to do to be successful. Some chose a life of drudgery, either consciously or through their refusal to pursue self-improvement.

  How, then, was the government supposed to deal with them?

  In a place like Easton, they’d simply chosen to leave them to die. If someone wasn’t useful, that government would not support them. It was a twisted version of survival of the fittest, and it completely ignored the notion of human compassion.

  Or long-term benefits, but that was an entirely different issue.

  Like most people, Elijah found that practice revolting. But one of the alternatives was a system like he saw in Seattle’s Undercity. Put them to work and let them earn their keep in an effort to allay the cost of their existence.

  Was it just? Certainly not. But it was better than the path Easton – and presumably many other cities – had taken. Even Ironshore had standards for who they would admit into the city as citizens, and they weren’t shy about turning people away.

  It was just another reminder that they didn’t live in a utopia. Perhaps they never would. With the touch of the World Tree came unprecedented opportunity. People could achieve things never before possible. And yet, that didn’t come without a cost. Earth was now a brutal place, and there just wasn’t much room for those who refused to help themselves.

  But Elijah didn’t accept that they were all lost causes. That was one reason he’d had Atticus create the Hartwood Foundation. Most of their efforts were dedicated to helping children and healing the sick, but they also fed the hungry. Seeing Seattle’s Undercity added another item to that list, and he intended to talk to Atticus about strategies to help the downtrodden.

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  For now, though, he had other things on his mind.

  Like the bound girl thrown over Gunnar’s shoulder and the organization to which she belonged.

  After leaving the safehouse, which was located on the lowest level of Seattle’s Undercity, they’d set out through the hollow slums to the first ramp leading upward. There weren’t many people living that far down, but there were enough that they drew quite a lot of attention.

  Elijah and Gunnar ignored it. Those people knew better than to get involved, and not just because doing so would put them in the middle of a conflict they didn’t understand. In addition, they could feel Elijah’s power. Perhaps not consciously, but even the weakest among them knew that he was well beyond the scope of their strength. That had always been true, but he’d stepped so far above them – either through his cultivation or because he’d fully become a dragon – that they could sense it without even trying to.

  Elijah likened it to seeing a grizzly bear in the wild. Doing so elicited a primal urge to run. To flee from such a powerful creature. He expected that the residents of the Undercity felt something similar when he walked among them.

  And they weren’t willing to chance his ire by interfering in a situation that didn’t concern them.

  Elijah and Gunnar climbed the ramp as it switched back and forth for a few hundred feet. They reached the next level, which was only slightly better than the last. The response from the population was nearly identical, so no one barred their way for the next three levels.

  It was a minor miracle that, upon building the Undercity, which delved thousands of feet into the Earth, they hadn’t reached the Hollow Depths. The only explanation was that the planet’s layered interior realm rested a little deeper beneath the desert than it did in other areas.

  In any case, each level they climbed came with a bit more life. Not in the traditional sense. There still weren’t any plants or trees. The concrete buildings were similar as well, though many were adorned with colorful awnings, vibrant signs, and a denser concentration of luxury goods.

  Or what the denizens of the Undercity might consider luxuries, at least – which was a depressing realization all its own.

  It wasn’t until they reached first level that they halted their climb. Elijah found himself facing a dozen soldiers dressed in tactical gear and toting rifles. Luckily, they weren’t pointed in his direction.

  “Elijah Hart?” the leader asked. She was a petite woman, but he could see the bulge of muscles beneath her black outfit. Despite her pale complexion, she reminded him of Carmen.

  “That’s me.”

  “We’re here to support your mission,” she said.

  He nodded, though Gunnar was obviously surprised by the development. He had no way of knowing that Elijah had already met with Isaiah and told him the basic gist of the situation. At least as much as Elijah knew before he’d arrived in Seattle. And with their newfound dictate of cooperation, Isaiah had chosen to lend Elijah a little of his authority.

  Not that it was needed. It was appreciated, though.

  Or rather, it was better than having to carve his way through a bunch of low-level soldiers, should Isaiah have chosen to be less than cooperative.

  “Gunnar, tell the captain where we’re going,” Elijah ordered.

  “I’m not a captain,” the woman said.

  Elijah ignored her statement. Gunnar didn’t acknowledge it either, and instead explained their goal. It didn’t take long, and soon enough, they were once again on their way. Though this time, they had an escort of guards to send most people scurrying away.

  Probably a good thing, considering how messy things were about to get. Elijah would have preferred otherwise, but he knew there was very little chance of a peaceful solution. And if he was honest, his preferences weren’t quite as clear-cut as he wanted to believe. After all, the Daughters of Deianira had tried to have him killed. He couldn’t ignore that.

  As they traversed the level, which was at least as large as the city on the surface, Elijah saw more soldiers evacuating the locals. For all that Seattle didn’t particularly value the dwellers of the Undercity, the government was committed to protecting them as best they could.

  And the rising tension hanging in the air told a story of coming conflict.

  When they drew within a quarter mile of their destination, Elijah recognized that more soldiers had been mobilized to cordon off the area. The Daughters assuredly knew they were coming, and it was paramount that they not be allowed to escape.

  But the fact that the guards had mobilized so quickly and accurately was a testament to Isaiah’s skills in surveillance. When Elijah had met with him, he’d not known the location of the Daughters’ headquarters. But Isaiah had discovered that information in the time it took Elijah to head down to the lowest level and meet Gunnar.

  If properly utilized, Isaiah’s abilities could be incredibly valuable. After all, no one ever lamented having too much information.

  In any case, the cordon was arranged in three concentric circles. The first was about a quarter mile out from the headquarters, while the second was nearly halfway between. And the final layer encircled the building with more than a hundred soldiers, each one with a decent amount of levels under their belts.

  Elijah stopped in front of the warehouse that functioned as their headquarters. Like every other structure in the Undercity, it was made of bare concrete. There were no windows. Only three entrances, one of which was a loading dock with a series of rolling doors. Those were well-guarded.

  “How many are inside?” Gunnar asked.

  The girl on his shoulder squirmed.

  One of the new group of guards spoke up. “More than two-hundred. We think they’re mostly Thieves and the like, but we don’t know their levels.”

  “How?” asked Gunnar.

  “They’re a criminal organization. They have skills to keep out surveillance,” the man answered without hesitation. “Only reason we know as much as we do is because we caught one of them trying to escape.”

  “Veracity of the information?” was Gunnar’s next question.

  “Not high.” The man turned to Elijah and asked, “How do you want –”

  “Wait out here,” Elijah interrupted. “Gunnar, with me. Bring the girl.”

  Without pausing for a response, Elijah stepped forward. He could already feel the interior of the building via Soul of the Wild, but the picture it gave him was blurry. Almost like looking through stained glass. Doubtless, that was the result of the abilities to which the guard captain referred.

  It didn’t matter.

  Elijah knew that, no matter how prepared they thought they were, they couldn’t really threaten him. Perhaps that wouldn’t have been true before his latest advancements in the Broken Crown, but it was certainly the case now that he’d upgraded his core and gained enough levels to put him on the precipice of becoming a demi-god.

  As he stepped forward, he felt no fear at all. On the other side of that front door, the situation was assuredly different, and rightly so.

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