Orb ,Sceptre ,Throne

expecting.

‘Well?’

‘I don’t know. We should explore … I guess.’

‘Where is Malakai, I wonder?’ Corien murmured, keeping his voice down.

‘Exploring, I guess,’ Antsy said, rather more acidly than he’d intended. ‘C’mon. This way.’

He led them up a narrow alleyway where the tilt, or cant, of the entire structure was uncomfortably evident. Antsy had to push off occasionally from the right-leaning wall.

‘We should make for one edge of the town,’ Orchid finally announced, perhaps having regained her bearings.

‘Why?’ Antsy asked, and stopped for her answer. Both spoke in subdued tones, almost whispering; the quiet emptiness and gaping doorways seemed to demand a reverent, or at least sombre, response. Gone, the silent stone streets and alleys seemed to sigh. They are gone from us.

‘Because we’re under a kind of cave roof here, that’s why.’

Antsy couldn’t help glancing up into what was, for him, an impenetrable gloom. He grunted his understanding. ‘All right. This way.’ He headed in what he believed to be the right direction.

A short time later he felt it before he heard it: a massive shuddering that threw them all from side to side. They reached out to steady themselves on the walls. Stones fell all around them, shattering. Orchid let out a panicked cry. Wreckage within the buildings about them shifted and crashed anew. It felt like every earthquake Antsy had experienced — only in this case a Spawnquake.

Then, slowly, ponderously, the entire structure around them rolled slightly, forwards and backwards, like a titanic ship. They tottered and fought to keep their balance just as one would on any vessel. In the slow, almost gentle rocking Antsy thought he sensed a new equilibrium in the massive artefact’s balance. Thankfully a poise slightly closer to upright than before.

‘What is it?’ Orchid whispered, fierce.

‘I do believe we just lost a chunk of our island.’

‘Are we sinking?’ Corien asked, dread tightening his voice.

Antsy scratched the bristles of his untrimmed beard. ‘It’s possible … of course, we might just rise some, too.’

‘Rise?’ Orchid scoffed. ‘How could that be possible?’

Antsy took a breath to explain but both had moved on, obviously uninterested in anything too technical. He cleared his throat, muttering, ‘Well — it’s just a theory.’

They came to where walls of stone bordered the town. Some sections of the rock had been left naked, others smoothed. Some bore mosaics depicting scenes of a great river of brightness running through darkness, others of an immense city of towers. Antsy wondered if such a city were somewhere within this gigantic mountain of stone. Tracing round the edge of the town they came to a set of three broad staircases leading upwards. A strong breeze blew into their faces down out of the shafts.

‘Definitely rising,’ Antsy said. Corien and Orchid just eyed one another, uncertain. Corien, Antsy saw, was walking more and more stiffly, grimacing with the effort, while Orchid looked bedraggled and exhausted. ‘We’ll rest here.’

Orchid was so worn out she merely gestured her acceptance and slumped down against a wall. Corien eased himself down with a hiss of pain. Antsy crouched to sort through their provisions. ‘How’re you holding up?’ he asked Corien, if only to hold back the darkness and the unsettling, watchful silence.

‘Bed rest would have been better,’ he answered with a grin. ‘But I’m much improved. Thank you, Orchid.’

A non-committal murmur sounded from where she lay on her bedroll of cloaks and blankets. Antsy gnawed on some sort of dried meat, passed a waterskin to Corien. ‘I don’t know about you, lad, but my goals have experienced a major revision.’

The aristocratic youth’s answering grin was bright in the gloom. ‘Getting off alive would be a good start.’

‘Un-huh. I think we understand each other.’ Antsy hefted the waterskin, stoppered it. Too damned low. ‘You rest. I’ll take first watch.’

The lad nodded his gratitude and eased further down. Antsy pushed himself to his feet. He set the lamp in the middle of the alcove they’d chosen, then turned his back to the light to stare out into the dimly lit adjacent street and portals. He cradled his cocked crossbow in his arms. So many damned nights spent on sentry duty. Seems like nothin’s changed. Just the venue. Same ol’ same old. Still … there’s not many as can say they’ve wandered the bowels of the Moon’s Spawn. Thought I was gonna collect a retirement package but seems I’ve just bought myself a last hurrah.

Damned stupid waste. Looks like someone on this rock is gonna be cleaning his teeth with my bones.

An’ to think Blend and Picker were relieved to see me go! Not like there’s so many of us Bridgeburners left, is there? Even Ferret got a proper service and remembrance. Whiskeyjack took off his helmet and said a few words with Free Cities battle magics blastin’ overhead and two dragons circling. And it’s not like he was a popular guy.

Thinking of Ferret he found he could almost see the skinny hunched figure there in front of him: his pinched pale face and sharp teeth — gods! We weren’t kind to the fellow, were we?

Then Ferret looked him up and down and said: ‘What the fuck are you doin’ here, Antsy? You’re not dead.’

Antsy jerked a startled breath and the crossbow jumped in his hands, the bolt skittering off down the stone street.

Corien called, alarmed, ‘What is it?’

Feeling that he’d, well, seen a ghost, Antsy squinted into the empty dark. ‘Nothin’. False alarm.’

‘Time for my watch?’

Antsy eyed the remaining fuel in the lamp. ‘Naw. Bit longer.’

‘Well. I’m up now.’

Antsy nodded, distracted, while he rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Yeah. Fine.’ I swear this damned dark is gonna drive me rat-crazy.

In the ‘morning’ — that is, when they were all up and eating a light meal of dried fruit and old stale bread — Malakai emerged from the dark. He looked much the worse for wear, was growing a beard, and his dark jacket hung torn and stained with sweat.

But then, Antsy reflected, none of us is looking any prettier.

Distaste curled the man’s slash of a mouth as he studied them. ‘What’s this? You should be up the stairs by now.’

Antsy decided he’d had a stomachful of the man’s command style. He’s never with us yet he presumes he’s leading. He cleared his throat. ‘Ah, we had us a talk. An’ we’ve decided we’re goin’ our own way in our own time.’

‘Oh?’ the man breathed, a dangerous edge entering his voice.

Rather belatedly Antsy glanced about for his crossbow. He saw it sitting to one side, uncocked. Damn. Gotta think these things through before I open my stupid mouth.

‘Yes,’ Orchid cut in quickly. ‘We’ve decided.’

The dark glittering eyes shifted to her. A scoffing smile now openly stretched his lips. ‘And where will you go?’

‘The closest way out. We’re going to get off this rock while we still have food and water and strength in our legs.’

‘You’ll never make it.’

Antsy cast a quick anxious glance to Orchid: that evaluation, so final, made her flinch.

‘That may be so,’ Corien said into the silence following Malakai’s comment, ‘but that’s our worry.’

The man seemed to make a show of considering the idea. He gave a great exaggerated frown while his hands brushed his belt. Antsy knew all the blades the man carried at that belt, and in other places. He ached to slip