After walking our guests back to their lodgings, I give Zyneth a quick hug, taking the opportunity to activate a Psionic Touch.

  “Mirzayael will send a message when it’s safe to visit,” I tell him. I can feel him freeze as my voice enters his mind, but he betrays no other outward sign of surprise. “Meet us back in the room where we first spoke this morning.”

  When I pull back, he meets my gaze with an easy smile. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

  “Of course.” He’s quite good at appearing relaxed. I’m certain I would have been fidgety in his shoes, no matter how natural I’d have tried to act. “You two have a good night.”

  Kanin and Zyneth head inside, and we accompany Aquenno to his room as well, just three doors down.

  The nereid pauses at the threshold, giving Mirzayael and myself a long, considering look.

  “You two have created a good thing with this city,” he finally says. “I hope you don’t do anything to compromise it.”

  Mirzayael smiles at him tightly. “If anything should happen to our home, it will not be due to our actions, but those of the Heavens.”

  He stares at her for a moment, then simply nods and turns away. The door clunks shut behind him, and the sound of a locking bolt slides into place.

  “He’s a tough nut to crack,” I remark as we head back to the palace.

  “I am not overly concerned with him,” she replies, frowning to herself. “Champions are mortal, and he does not exude the same confidence I experienced with Zetaru.”

  “He’s half her level,” I confirm.

  I can feel Mirzayael's surprise at this. “Interesting. In that case, I believe his presence here can be dismissed entirely.”

  I chew at my cheek. “I’m not sure I agree. He’s connected to Blair, and I would like to remain in her good graces. She could be a valuable ally.”

  Mirzayael scoffs. “Fyrethians are no ally of the gods.”

  I don’t argue the point. Mirzayael has only begun to trust strangers enough to let them into our city; asking her to trust a god—who has even threatened me on prior occassions—is a step too far. That said, I’m willing to extend an olive branch if Blair is.

  “At any rate,” Mirzayael thinks, “it’s Kanin and his remnant I want to hear about. You’ve spent a full day with him, now. What are your thoughts?”

  What indeed? He’s a complicated man, of that much I know. I absently trail a hand up a marble banister as we climb the palace.

  “He truly is the reason I’m here,” I say. I’ve mentioned bits and pieces of our conversation to Mirzayael throughout the day, but we’ve been so busy that I haven’t been able to give her a full account of anything yet. “So we both have him to thank for my rebirth in this world. As do all the other Travelers, I suppose. Though he’s aware many of them have likely suffered at the hands of their Role Requirements, and that burden weighs on him.”

  Mirzayael nods along. “Good. It sounds as though he understands the responsibility he carries.”

  “Perhaps too acutely," I muse. “Though it is what’s driving him to want to free the other Travelers.”

  “Free?” Mirzayael looks at me in surprise. “You mean, the ones that the gods have abducted?”

  I nod. “He believes he has a way he could reach them, though he’s not told me the specifics.”

  Mirzayael rubs her chin thoughtfully. She even feels a little impressed. “I can’t say I’m against the idea of spiting the gods in this way.”

  I can’t help but laugh. “I would have expected nothing less.”

  “But what do you think about it?” Mirzayael asks. “Is his plan safe?”

  “I doubt it.” I wince. “We’ll have to wait and see what he has in mind. However, no matter how he’s able to retrieve imprisoned Travelers—assuming he can at all—it would put our kingdom in a precarious position.”

  “Because we would be assisting him?” she asks.

  I hesitate. “Because, with your permission, I would want to house and protect any he frees.”

  “Ah.” Mirzayael looks at me, her expression softening, and she doesn’t try to hide the affection she feels for me. “You seem to believe you can protect everyone.”

  “I don’t,” I say. “But that won’t stop me from trying.”

  She chuckles softly. “I know. And that is no small part of why I respect you. But I think you already know what my answer will be.”

  I do: perhaps even more so than me, Mirzayael would want to house these Heavenly outlaws. She sees potential allies in them, and any way she can go against the will of the Heavens appeals to her.

  “We’ll be painting a target on our city,” I remind her. “There won’t be any turning back after that.”

  “I am very much aware,” Mirzayael says. “But we both know that would only be a matter of time, anyway. And we have prepared for that eventuality.”

  I hope she’s right. The Towers’ spell circles are in place, all restored and reconnected to the throne—we’ve even powered them all on and off a few times—but none have been put to the test against under stressing circumstances, and it’s always then that the flaws are exposed.

  Both of us are caught up in our own thoughts as we finish navigating the palace and return to the red room. We have more work to review before we can even begin to think of turning in for the night. No rest for the wicked, I suppose.

  “And what of his remnant?" Mirzayael eventually asks, even as she goes through a scroll detailing produce output and consumption rates. She’s settling into her cushy arachnoid beanbag-like chair while I’m at the table, reclining in a chair designed to accommodate harpy wings. To be honest, her chair still looks more comfortable.

  “It’s peculiar,” I reply, skimming a Lusio world map, which contains plotted tracks of our city’s movements. I’m attempting to provide suggestions to Dizzi so we can enchant the map to produce more accurate predictions. “It feels much like the Dungeon Core, yet it can act so differently.”

  “How so?”

  I have to consider this for a moment. “Its thoughts are simplified, like the Core. Though I’d say Kanin’s remnant—Ink, he calls it—is more complex than the Dungeon Core. Like, the difference between a three year old and a five year old, perhaps.”

  Mirzayael snorts. “Fyre, I know nothing about kids.”

  I chuckle. “Well you at least know something about Ollie. Sorry. Let me think.” I jot down an equation for converting between reference frames, wondering how in the world I’m going to translate that into a spell circle design. “On the one hand, Ink appears capable of more introspection than what I’ve witnessed in the Core. It’s also very protective of Kanin. But I think that’s something that Kanin is worried about, as I’m not sure he’s entirely able to control it. I think it is capable of asserting far more influence over him than the Dungeon Core can with me.”

  Mirzayael glances up. “That’s concerning.”

  I can only nod in agreement. “From the memories he shared, Ink seems to have gone through an evolution of identity over the last year. I’ve only been with the Dungeon Core for half as long, but I haven’t witnessed such a change in it. It seems his remnant is progressing in a positive direction, becoming less violent, yet…”

  “What?” Mirzayael prompts.

  I shrug helplessly. “I don’t know. The fact that it’s so complex and malleable means it could continue to change, and it’s not guaranteed that will be to Kanin’s benefit.”

  “Sounds volatile," Mirzayael says. “That might make him an unreliable ally.”

  I can’t entirely disagree. But I want to hope for the best, for both Kanin and Ink’s sake.

  “At any rate, there’s not much we can do about his remnant,” I say with a sigh. “Except, perhaps, convince it to see us as allies. Show it compassion and trust.”

  “Yes,” Mirzayael says flatly. “Two of my greatest strengths.”

  I laugh.

  The evening stretches as we work. I occasionally check the Map Interface to see if Zyneth or Aquenno have gone anywhere. Unfortunately “homunculus” does not appear to be something the Dungeon Core can track, and since it can’t eat anything that is Attuned to a different mage, there’s no way I can get it to find Kanin. Not that I am particularly interested in spying on him, but with his remnant in the equation, it certainly wouldn’t hurt to keep an eye out.

  Aquenno remains in his room, however, so as midnight approaches, I finally and wearily give Mirzayael the go-ahead to retrieve Kanin and Zyneth with one of her messenger spiders.

  A short while later, a knock comes at the door. “Come in,” I call, even as Kanin is letting himself inside. I gesture to some of the chairs that are often used by Nek, Dizzi, and Torim. “Please make yourselves at home. And thank you for coming. I’m sorry for all the cloak and dagger.”

  Zyneth follows Kanin inside, pausing to close the door silently behind him.

  “I’m sure Zyneth is used to far more clandestine activities,” Kanin says, clearly teasing his partner.

  Mirzayael raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”

  I can feel her curiosity (and continued suspicion), but Kanin pointedly ignores this.

  “You sure this place is safe?” he asks, taking a seat on one of the chairs. He casually kicks his boots up on a nearby stool, causing Mirzayael to scowl. “Aquenno won’t show up unannounced?”

  “Unlikely,” I say. “He’s still in his room; I’ll be able to track him if he leaves or starts moving around.”

  Forgoing the seats, Zyneth leans against the wall near the door. “That’s handy. A surveillance spell?”

  “In a manner of speaking,” I admit. “I can’t tell who is who on my map, but I can tell what their species is, and as long as I don’t lose track of them, I can follow their position throughout the Fortress. We don’t have many nereids, so following him should be easy.”

  “Fancy,” Kanin remarks, though Zyneth doesn’t appear nearly as enthusiastic; he must realize cambions are also included on the map. “That must make keeping an eye out for gods easier.”

  “Actually, they’re the only people I can’t track,” I admit with a grimace. “Well, the only people before I met you. I guess the System doesn’t classify gods by their apparent species—like they’re some other creature entirely.”

  “Well, Ink and I certainly fit the nonhuman bill,” Kanin says dryly.

  “Yes.” Interesting that he includes Ink in this consideration—though I worry more about the casual declaration of his inhumanity, even if he’s playing it off as a joke. “Though it’s not the only system we’ve utilized to fortify ourselves against the gods,” I continue. “Which is what I wish to speak with you about tonight.”

  Kanin perks up, but Mirzayael cuts in first.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  “However, the expectation is that the information exchange goes both ways,” she says. “As a show of… trust.”

  It took an impressive amount of effort to make herself say that word.

  “More specifically, it sounds like we have similar goals, and it may be to both our benefit to pool resources,” I clarify.

  Kanin puts his boots down as he leans forward, his body language more intent than before. “You mean about retrieving the captured Travelers.”

  I nod. “You mentioned you might have a method.”

  “Well, I’m developing a method, anyway.” He spreads his hands. “I almost have all the pieces I need—then I just have to put them together and open the door. And be prepared for what I find on the other side.”

  “How do you intend to reach the Heavens?” Mirzayael asks.

  “I have access to a dimension-bridging spell,” he explains. “I’m still refining the spell circle design, but I think I’m nearly there. Besides that, there’s only two other things I need before I can activate it. First, a focus; something strongly related to the gods or Heavens that will aim the spell in the right direction. And second, an incredible amount of mana—which the Drifting Isles should be able to supply.”

  Mirzayael remains skeptical. “A dimension bridging spell? And an incomplete one at that. This sounds perilous. Do you even know it will work?”

  “Er…” Kanin hesitates, his head swiveling between me and Mirzayael.

  I gesture for him to continue. “Go ahead. She already knows everything you told me earlier.”

  “Fair enough.” He shrugs. “I cast it before when I was trying to get back to Earth.”

  Mirzayael glances toward me, her brows furled. “Fyre told me that plan had been dangerous.”

  Kanin waffles his hand. “Well…”

  “It was,” Zyneth interjects.

  “But it also worked!” Kanin cries.

  Zyneth gives him a skeptical look.

  “Mostly,” Kanin adds.

  I, too, feel Kanin is stretching the definition of “worked” given the unintended side effect of summoning over one hundred new souls to this world.

  “Yes,” Mirzayael thinks to me privately. “This plan sounds very reliable.”

  “Anyway,” Kanin says, quickly pivoting the conversation, “is there anyone else you’ve told about me? I don’t want too much information spread around. Blair said the gods are looking for me by name, but they don't know about my new form, yet.”

  They know his name but not his species? That’s odd. This System of theirs is more limited than I thought.

  “Just us,” I confirm. “And I’m happy to keep it that way. I agree that until we have a tested and reliable method of defense against the gods, we should keep our cards close to our chest.”

  Kanin nods. “You mentioned you have something that might work.”

  I glance at Mirzayael. “It’s your call how much we should tell him.”

  “About the Fortress’s defenses and weaponry?” Mirzayael asks. “Nothing. He doesn’t need to know.”

  “This was supposed to be an information exchange,” I remind her.

  “Which I am more than happy to engage in,” she thinks. “Within reason.”

  “He did tell us about his plan to free the Travelers.”

  She snorts. “That was hardly a plan.”

  Kanin clears his throat. Or, his translator makes a garbled impression of that sound. “So…”

  “Sorry,” I say, returning my attention to Kanin. “It’s an ongoing discussion.”

  “Disagreement,” Mirzayael corrects.

  Zyneth raises an eyebrow at the two of us. “Telepathic communication?”

  He catches on fast.

  “I thought you had to be touching someone,” Kanin says, tipping his head.

  “I have a permanent connection to a few individuals that don’t require physical contact,” I admit. “But just as you’re cautious of allowing too much information about yourself to spread, we also have secrets it would be wise to keep from the Heavens. What I can tell you, at least at this time, is that we have a second surveillance spell—well, more like an alarm. It notifies me if a god appears in the city.”

  Mirzayael mentally grumbles, but doesn’t stop me from divulging this much, at least.

  “I thought you said you couldn’t detect the gods on your map,” Kanin says.

  “I can’t,” I say. “But the alarm spell can be set to go off according to different parameters. For instance, it’s currently designed to activate if anyone over 300 years of age enters its range. We thought that would be comprehensive enough to cover the gods and champions, but…”

  “A dozen new champions have just ascended,” Zyneth notes. “All of them would be of mortal age.”

  I wearily nod. Captain Marlow has filled us in on many of the goings-on of the rest of the world, while we still remain so disconnected from it. Over the last six months—precicely correlating with the arrival of us Travelers—the gods hosted a series of tournaments to take on a dozen new champions. Apparently, such an event is unheard of; Gods Tournaments generally only happen once a lifetime.

  “We didn’t learn of the Gods Tournaments until recently,” I say. “The alarm went off when Blair arrived, but it turned off after she left—even though Aquenno is still here.”

  “I thought his level was pretty low,” Kanin says. “I mean, still higher than everyone in this room, but not by much.”

  “It would make sense that he’s a new champion,” Zyneth agrees. “Many of the older champions are known by name. Maru is almost five hundred years old, for instance. Occasionally a champion is killed or disappears, but those instances are rare. Until all of you showed up, the youngest champion would have been two hundred years old, or so.”

  “The Tournaments are linked to us,” I think aloud. “I had suspected, based on the timing, but wasn’t sure why.”

  “Probably to help track all of us down,” Kanin suggests. “More eyes and ears in the mortal realm, right?”

  “I suppose.” I frown, tapping a talon on my table as I think. “But if the goal is to find and apprehend Travelers, why couldn’t the gods do it themselves? Surely they’d be more effective.”

  “The gods rarely leave their realm,” Zyneth explains. “Mostly just to check in with their champions or ascend new ones.”

  Mirzayael surprises me by agreeing with him. “Even Lorata didn’t deal with Fyreneth herself, instead sending her champions to do her dirty work.”

  Zyneth frowns at this, clearly bothered by such derision being aimed at the head of the pantheon, but he graciously doesn’t stir the pot.

  But this whole explanation about gods and champions just isn’t adding up to me. What can a champion do that a god can’t? Why have them at all?

  “Why is that?” I wonder. “Why do gods hide themselves away in this other dimension? They can’t be terribly busy if everything there is to do is back in the mortal realm.”

  Kanin just shrugs, and even Zyneth appears unsure.

  “I don’t know,” the cambion admits. “It’s said that they have more important things to attend to. But what those could be is anyone’s guess.”

  “Probably just lounging around and stuffing their faces with delicacies while the rest of us are left to languish and struggle,” Mirzayael grumbles.

  Zyneth glares at her, and Mirzayael pretends not to notice.

  “You think that’s true of Blair?” Kanin counters.

  “And Shirasil?” I add.

  Mirzayael wrinkles her nose at me, thinking, “Traitor.”

  I can’t help but play devil’s advocate here a little. While I am no fan of Lorata, I do believe Mirzayael is being too harsh on the two gods who have visited our city.

  “Those two seem to be somewhat of anomalies,” Mirzayael reluctantly admits.

  But the conversation has caused Zyneth to straighten up in surprise. “Shirasil? You’ve met him?”

  “Unfortunately,” Mirzayael mutters under her breath.

  “We have,” I reply. “He even added himself to my contact list. However, if he also crosses your path, just… be careful. I’m unsure what his angle is—everything he’s told me seems to be helpful—but I can’t shake the feeling there’s an ulterior motive to everything he does.”

  “Aquenno told us much the same,” Zyneth says, frowning to himself. “I don’t know that there’s anything we can do to avoid him, but we’ll try to keep an eye out.”

  Huh. I wonder if Aquenno’s advice was his own opinion, or given on behalf of Blair. The two gods don’t appear to be friends, exactly, but they at least appear to be working together.

  “And Lisari,” I add, making a mental note to look into that later. “Sometimes Shirasil appears as a woman and goes by the name of Lisari.”

  “Good to know,” Kanin says.

  But Zyneth appears more thoughtful. “It’s said he takes the form of different genders, but I haven’t heard of that name. Perhaps it’s a cover? Like with Blair.”

  Kanin shrugs. “If Lisari is a cover, then it doesn’t do much good if she reveals it, does it?”

  “Then what does that mean?” Zyneth wonders. “If Blair isn’t a cover, then who is she? Why doesn’t her name appear in the pantheon?”

  Exactly the questions I have had myself.

  Mirzayael sighs out her nose. “I had thought I didn’t know her name because our information on the gods was incomplete. But you mean to say she’s entirely unknown?”

  “So far as I am aware,” Zyneth admits.

  “It could be that Blair is still a cover, and she’s just more cautious than Shirasil,” Kanin suggests.

  “That could be it,” I agree. “It would fit what I know of their personalities. Blair does seem more cautious about her interactions with mortals becoming known to the pantheon.” Though, I expect something deeper may be at play.

  “And what exactly is it that the pantheon wants?” Kanin asks.

  Zyneth shrugs. “They want to stay in the Heavens as much as possible.”

  “They want to capture Travelers,” Mirzayael adds.

  “Why Travelers?” Kanin continues to poke. “If natural disasters and disease and famine aren’t enough for them to interfere, why is a hundred people from another world a threat to them?”

  “They all have System access,” I say. Not to mention remnants, though it seems not all Travelers have run into the sentient objects. “Perhaps that is what has the gods concerned. This ability seems to be specific to the pantheon—at least, until we showed up.”

  Kanin shakes his head. “I don’t think that’s it exactly. So far, the only people I’ve seen who have Roles also have System access. Unless you’ve found otherwise?”

  “That is also the trend I have noticed.” I frown, dissecting his words. “But what do you mean? Who else may have access if not the gods and Travelers?”

  “I saw someone from this world do something that caused him to obtain a Role,” Kanin admits. “His attempt failed, but a Role and a Title appeared on his stats, briefly.”

  I hear Kanin say these words, but it takes me several seconds to actually process them. A chill runs down my spine. “But only gods and champions have Titles.”

  “And only gods have both Titles and Roles,” he agrees.

  The room is quiet.

  Zyneth huffs out a disbelieving laugh. “What are you saying? That Yedzaquib was attempting to become…” It seems he can’t bring himself to say it, shaking his head instead. “That’s not possible.”

  “But if it were?” I wonder. “Travelers already have access to a portion of this System’s powers. What if there were room to unlock its full potential? If there was a risk that Travelers might have a way to gain the same power as the gods, what would the pantheon do?”

  “They would round them all up,” Mirzayael says, blunt as ever. “Kill them, or lock them away.”

  A second, more extended silence descends on the room.

  “What does this mean?” Mirzayael thinks. “Your connection to this magic System makes you some sort of half-baked god?”

  There’s skepticism in her words, but they’re threaded with subtle worry.

  I can only shake my head. “Kanin, what can you tell me about this failed ascension? How did it transpire?”

  The man has produced a few shards of glass, and is fiddling with them. They orbit his fingers like tiny moons. “I’m not entirely sure what happened. The man—Yedzaquib—used some sort of device that absorbed the soul of another Traveler, along with the remnant that was attached to it. I think he called it a ‘refiner.’ Then he…”

  Kanin hesitates, clenching the glass pieces in his fist.

  “He stabbed himself in the chest,” Zyneth says when Kanin doesn’t continue. “Then he buried the artifact in the wound, and it began to change him.”

  I instinctively put a hand on my own sternum in shock.

  “He had the willpower to stab himself in his own chest?” Mirzayael asks. She’s almost a little impressed.

  “But not to overcome the remnant’s influence,” Kanin says, slumping a little. “The Title and Role never finished populating, and in that time he lost his mind to the remnant. He probably would have killed us if Blair hadn’t showed up.”

  “A remnant…” I mutter, my mind spinning a mile a minute. “Is it the link, then? Not all Travelers have a remnant, but Blair indicated those were experiencing higher scrutiny. Yedzaquib implanted a remnant in himself and was promptly captured.”

  “You think wielding remnants is related to accessing the gods’ powers,” Kanin guesses.

  I’ve been thinking it, but I was hesitant to voice it.

  “What?” Zyneth looks between us. “That’s not possible. Kanin, you and Fyre both have remnants and you don’t wield godly powers.”

  “Perhaps not,” I say. “Our abilities are no more or less developed than Travelers without remnants—and Sandro’s abilities are weaker still. But given what you revealed about this non-Traveler who gained System access, I suspect there is a link. Some piece I’m still missing.”

  Mirzayael tries to hide her conflicted feelings about this from me, but she’s not as practiced as I am in psychic compartmentalization. She isn’t thrilled by the idea of me wielding something made by or for the very thing she loathes. Yet, she sees the potential in how it could be turned against the gods.

  Mirzayael lets out a long breath. “I don’t know what to make of all this. But I think it’s clear that if Travelers pose some danger to the gods—especially Travelers with remnants—then it would be to our benefit to find and protect as many as possible. Perhaps even use them against the Heavens.”

  “That will almost certainly make our city a target of the pantheon,” I remind her.

  Mirzayael meets my gaze with a determined look in her eyes. “That would be nothing new.”

  “Are you ready to work with them, then?” I ask, though I can feel she’s already come to her decision. “Both of us sharing what information and resources we have?”

  “I am,” Mirzayael agrees. “If it means we might have the chance to invade the Heavens and free those who have been wrongfully imprisoned—provide them an opportunity for justice—then I am willing to explore this interdimensional spell that was mentioned.”

  “Then it’s settled,” I say, turning back to Kanin. “We can begin preparations tomorrow; not just with examining this spell you have and looking for something that will connect it to the Heavens, but also research on what we might expect if and when we get there. This will be exceptionally dangerous, and cannot happen on a whim. We will need to plan meticulously; prepare for any spell or obstacle we might face.”

  Kanin snorts. “Oh, is that all?”

  Zyneth rubs a temple, far less amused than his partner. “I’ve broken into many dangerous places before, but this is going to be a completely different scale of difficulty. I don’t know if we’ll be able to pull it off without some kind of divine intervention of our own.”

  Partway through Zyneth’s words, the Alarm spell goes off. I jump as the noise rings in my ears, and my alarm spikes. There’s a god in the Fortress.

  “Mir—” I start, but she’s already heard my thoughts and is on her feet, spear in hand.

  The room to the office slams open with a buffeting breeze. Zyneth leaps away, drawing his blades, while Kanin startles at the sudden entrance before scrambling to his feet.

  “Divine intervention?” Shirasil says with a wide grin. “I believe that’s my cue.”

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