The floor resolved itself under Saul’s feet. Everything around him was dark. Nat stiffened on his shoulder and looked around, his eyes better than Saul’s to see in the blackness.

  “I don’t like this,” he said.

  “Don’t like what? The dark?” He said the last part louder, knowing that for Nat the dark was home. That was the way Saul had made him.

  “Leaving Olivia behind.”

  “We could use her help up ahead.”

  “That’s not the only reason.”

  He grimaced. “Look, she made up her mind.”

  “I know.” Nat fluttered off Saul’s shoulder and disappeared into the darkness. A moment later, his voice hissed from ahead of Saul. “Here. I found a door.”

  Saul crept through the darkened chamber, one hand in front of him, brushing past what felt like cloth with the last few steps. He found the smooth face of a metal door and then pulled it open. Light spilled onto him and showed the large closet around him. Saul blinked and stepped into the room beyond.

  There were no people, and the light filtered in through a pair of window slits high in the outer wall. A fluffy, king-sized bed stood in a corner, covered in a white blanket patterned with green and blue triangles and squares. The clothes in the closet behind him were mixed between Hidrian-looking judge’s robes and the business suits of Earth, but there were only a few sets.

  Beyond that, the place appeared to be some kind of guest room, but there was no sign of another occupant. Saul stalked to the only other door in the room, in the wall opposite the windows. The chain lock would keep it from opening, but Saul quickly flipped the latch on it. He opened the door.

  The hallway on the other side was occupied by a single guard, unarmored, wearing a white uniform with red trim. The man stared at Saul, in surprise from beside the door opposite him. Then he went for the sword at his belt.

  Saul rushed him. Fingers wrapped around the man’s sword-arm at the wrist. His other fist connected with the man’s jaw. Saul did not like being unarmed but had no desire to kill someone who was only doing his job. The guard staggered back. Saul drew the sword from the guard’s sheath.

  His first blow with the pommel of the weapon bashed into the guard’s skull. The man went down with a grunt. Blood trickled from his forehead. It felt good to have a sword again, even though it was a bit light for him and there were no wings on the cross guard. Saul turned down the hallway and started forward. Nat followed him on the wing.

  They reached a corner and Nat alighted on Saul’s shoulder. Around the corner, a huge iron gateway stood at the top of a broad ramp. The floor was the same polished white stone as hallway behind him. Four guards stood on the ramp, armed with eight-foot spears.

  He ducked back before they noticed him. Then he heard the thuds of footsteps, but in an odd pattern, more like a quadruped than a human. Nat peeked around the corner, then darted back again.

  “It’s Rufus.”

  Saul scowled. “He must have moved fast to beat us here.”

  “He’s not alone.” Nat crawled onto the wall and peered back out.

  He pressed his shoulder to the corner and chanced a look around it. In addition to Rufus on his clawed throne, there were a half dozen curtain children, like the ones back at Mataya’s chamber. Three of them drifted on either side of Rufus’s throne, casting long shadows under the gray glow from the skylights above.

  Across from Rufus, stood a heavy-set bald man in a white judge’s robe, flanked by a round woman in a black gown on one side and a skinny man in a red suit on the other. The three walked forward alongside Rufus and his children on the side closer to Saul. They looked up the ramp to the iron gateway.

  “About time you showed up, maker,” said the man in white. “I was beginning to think Mataya had been too much for you.”

  “You might have preferred it that way, but no.” Rufus held out a hand and his throne advanced toward the ramp, accompanied by his curtain children. “I wouldn’t miss a view of the inner sanctuary of your city for something foolish like failure.”

  “I’d say you honor me. Except you don’t.”

  “How witty, Kahzed.” Rufus’s voice held no mirth. His throne stopped at the base of the ramp. “Shall we?”

  “Very well.”

  Kahzed. The name of the Grand Sleeper helping Luther rang familiar to Saul. If Rufus was here, where were Luther, Irene, and William?

  “Saul, there are too many,” said Nat.

  “Looks like it.” He looked down at the bare and burnt skin of his right arm. “Any ideas?”

  “Let me go find Olivia. Wait here, and I’ll bring her back.”

  Saul frowned. Leaving Olivia really had bothered the little art-child a lot. That kind of sentimentalism required denial. Another set of weapons would not have been missed in a fight, however. “Do it,” he said.

  Nat glided off the wall and back down the passage the way they had come. Saul watched him go.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  Rufus was speaking from the ramp. “…like your Grand Sleeper said, stand aside.”

  A gruff voice metallic and distorted from within a helmet answered, “Perhaps the Grand Sleeper could use a reminder. We protectors do not belong to his Castellagi.”

  Kahzed’s voice bore a tinge of levity. “Protector, you have done your duty. Now stand aside.”

  “This is the All-Father’s sanctuary. You may not enter.”

  “Not while you live,” said Kahzed, voice cold. “Shalm. Zubed.”

  Saul whirled around the corner, sword in hand. The four armored guards at the top of the slope lowered their spears to keep Rufus, Kahzed, and the other two at bay. Kahzed stood his ground between his bodyguards.

  The heavy woman in black barked a laugh. Darkness billowed from her gown, falling like a tide of ink to the ramp around her. Then the blackness began to creep onto the guards.

  The skinny man in red crossed his arms. Flames erupted from his hands and grew to the length of swords. He swept his fire toward the guards.

  “Kahzed, this sorcery is forbidden here!”

  The other guards yelled in rage and moved to strike.

  Kahzed only laughed as the thin man’s fire melted and warped the metal spear handles. The guards dropped them to the floor and went for swords. Inky blackness welled up on the floor under their feet.

  The plan was to wait, but what better chance would he get than the distraction provided by the four guards? He gritted his teeth. Sword in one hand, he took an oven rod in the other.

  Saul rushed toward the ramp.

  As he neared, the curtain children turned toward him. They hissed warnings, but none of the humans on the ramp appeared to notice, or if they did, they didn’t care. The six curtain children raced toward Saul. His teeth ground as his feet pounded on the stone floor.

  He held the sword in front of him, warding off ribbon claws. One circled to his other side and the oven rod found it. His spark ignited the weapon and reduced the curtain to ashes. The others fell back, hissing.

  On the ramp, two of the guards went down, armor melted. Another one disappeared into the woman’s crawling darkness though Saul could still hear screams from within the patch of blackness. The last guard backed against the closed doors of the gateway.

  Rufus turned his throne around on the ramp and looked down at Saul. The remaining five curtain children formed a line between him and Saul. “You move fast,” Rufus said. “Same Saul as ever.” The throne crawled down the stairs toward Saul. “Where’s your exile friend?”

  Saul advanced on the line of art-children. He glared at Rufus. “She’ll be along.”

  “That’s good. I’d hate to think you two had a falling out.”

  “You gonna talk all day?”

  The final guard sank into the darkness. He let out a wild yell and then went silent along with the other guard who had been swallowed. Rufus grinned down at Saul. His throne sprang off the ramp and sailed toward Saul, feet first.

  Saul threw himself to one side and found himself face to face with a curtain beast. Its claws slashed at his face and opened a cut above his eye. He fell back a step and thrust his oven rod out. The beast burnt up in an instant.

  The throne hit the floor with a clank and then pivoted toward Saul. The other four curtain children flanked the throne. He darted to one side and slashed one of the curtains in half with his sword. It fluttered to the ground in lifeless pieces. Another lunged at him and cut along his forearm. The oven rod touched fabric and the creature burst into brief flames.

  “These things are pretty fragile,” Saul said. Red dripped down his wrist and fell onto the floor. More blood began to flow from the cut over his eye.

  “So are humans.” Rufus circled Saul on his throne. “You’ve been in better shape.”

  “Speak for yourself.”

  Rufus’s eye twitched. His curtain children rushed at Saul from one side while the throne moved in from the other. The moving chair reared up on its back legs to kick at Saul’s head.

  Saul ducked his head and charged at the two curtains. One of them slashed toward his throat but he parted its claws with his sword. The other dove for his legs. The throne’s front legs hit the floor with a loud thud.

  He whirled and thrust the oven rod into one of the curtains. It burned. Just one left.

  Blood ran along his brow and newly torn left sleeve. The last curtain child circled him while Rufus glared at him from the other side.

  From the ramp, Kahzed regarded Saul with a raised eyebrow. “An old feud, I presume?”

  Rufus glowered at Saul. “This is Saul Burton. He’s been a lifelong pain in my ass.”

  “Right back at you, friend.”

  “We cannot open the sanctuary with him present. Zubed, kill him.”

  The skinny man in red tittered a demented laugh. He whirled and threw a blast of fire at Saul. The heat poured outward, igniting the last curtain-child on its way past. Saul charged at Rufus to avoid the flames.

  The curtain child screamed and fell. Rufus roared in anger. His throne bucked backward.

  Saul landed on one arm of the throne. Rufus grabbed at his leg. He missed his grip as Saul staggered and fell toward the floor.

  He hit hard on his side and lost his grip on his sword. The oven rod flew from his other hand and skidded across the floor. Zubed stood over him, fire blazing in one both hands.

  Saul rolled away from a flurry of blazing strikes. Breathing hard, he bounced to his feet. Rult whined like a house cat, after being pressed against the floor in his backpack. Saul winced at the thought.

  “Sorry about that.”

  He picked up his oven rod and turned to face Zubed and Rufus. The skinny man grinned. “You’re pretty good.”

  Rufus glared at Zubed. “You can’t aim straight you fool. Now it’s just the two of us against him.”

  Kahzed waved to the woman in black. “Shalm, finish off this maker.”

  The woman waved both arms toward Saul and the black spot on the floor flowed down the ramp toward Saul.

  He lunged at Zubed, oven rod first. The burning man caught the end of the rod with a fiery hand. “You can’t burn me, maker.”

  Saul’s legs snaked out and he tripped the thin man. Zubed hit the floor. Rufus’s throne slammed into Saul with a crunch and an explosion of pain down Saul’s left side.

  He flew backward over the floor and sprawled to the ground. He looked up as the throne stepped off Zubed. The thin man’s fire went out, and he lay still.

  “Show some care, idiot maker,” said Kahzed. “That is my servant you just trampled.”

  Rufus’s throne crawled forward, carrying him toward Saul. “You should have told him the same.” His eyes fixed on Saul.

  Shalm’s dark spot swept toward Saul from behind. He darted around it and then rushed up the ramp toward Kahzed. The heavy-set woman interposed herself between him and the Grand Sleeper. A wall of darkness erupted from the air in front of her.

  Saul skidded, trying to slow down. The darkness flew toward him from both sides. He leaped over the dark spot on the floor and looked back. The darkness spread under him. He began to sink into the inky shadows. Tendrils of cold crept into his toes. He fought to lift his feet.

  The woman screamed. A sizzle of electricity cut the air. Shalm sagged onto the ramp.

  The darkness around her and Saul evaporated, and Olivia came into view. Nat rested on her shoulder and she held a stun gun in one hand. Her cattle prod connected with Kahzed’s chest. The shock knocked Kahzed down. He twitched awkwardly on the ramp.

  “About damn time,” Saul said. Blood dripped from over his eye, turning his vision red. Feeling returned to his feet.

  Olivia frowned at his blood-streaked face. “Good to see you too.”

  Rufus stared at them. “You two.” He shook his head. “I really didn’t want to have to do this.” His eye twitched. His hands clenched down on the armrests of his throne, knuckles white.

  One previously-still leg spasmed, then the other. He pushed himself to his feet. The blanket fell from his lap. He cracked his neck.

  “You wanted to know what happened to me, Saul? You’re about to find out.”