Sea of Strangers

by Erica Cameron

  And patience is necessary, because there’s no easy way into this place. Three days of watching only gives us one good idea.

  Tessen overheard several guards talking about the upcoming arrival of supplies. Deliveries come no more often than once a moon here—they’re too far into the dead zone of Suakizu and too few people know Mushokeiji exists. Luckily, this rarity makes the arrival of each wagon of supplies a day the guards look forward to. It becomes a celebration, and that makes it a perfect day for us to sneak past them.

  It also means we only have two days to find a way in before we’ll have to wait a full moon cycle.

  Miari is the one who offers a solution. As part of her mage training in Itagami, she worked under the ishiji mages responsible for maintaining the caves in the undercity. They taught her to detect weaknesses and cracks in the stone support pillars before they became a problem and to keep the ventilation shafts clear of debris.

  No matter how secure the Ryogans tried to make Mushokeiji, a compound carved out of solid stone needs ventilation. And, since they likely don’t use magic to maintain them, the shafts have to be wide enough for people to crawl through and clear by hand. Meaning we can use them to drop in behind their guards. As soon as we find one.

  Tessen, Tsua, and Miari search, staying at a distance as much as possible, and when they’re back with us, resting and eating and telling us what they’ve learned, we try to form some kind of plan.

  “Tessen, the first thing you need to do once we’re inside is find the rooms belonging to the guards,” Chio says. “There’ll be a map of the prison in the commanding officer’s quarters.”

  “That won’t be easy. Especially not without being seen.” Tessen bites his lip, watching the empty valley below. Then he turns, eyes locking on mine. “Can you work the same magic you did with Lo’a? Just while we’re on the move.”

  “It’s hard here to even put up a ward, and this is a prison for mages, remember?” I run my fingers along the stone, wondering how the Ryogans built this place without magic. “They probably have something in there to keep everyone from using what little desosa there is.”

  “So you can’t do it?” he asks.

  “I might be able to, but I don’t want it to be the only choice.” I lean past him, peering out at Mushokeiji. “We need a solid fallback plan before we sneak in there.”

  “There are only two possible plans if we can’t get through unseen,” Chio says. “Either we create chaos by freeing the prisoners, or we kill or disable every single guard to keep them from warning the rest of Ryogo.”

  So, in other words, either I make Lo’a’s don’t-see-us magic work or someone—a lot of someones—will die. They’re strangers, practically enemies. I shouldn’t care one way or the other, but I do. Yorri would, too, if he were here.

  “Give me some time.” I take a long breath and lean against the stone. “I’ll see.”

  Closing my eyes, I try to remember exactly how Lo’a’s magic felt. It was like my wards, but thicker. They stopped sound and bent light. Lo’a explained it some, and I’ve learned more in the weeks we’ve been with her, but I haven’t tried to replicate the trick yet. A mistake, clearly. I’ve spent most of my time on the cords or the susuji instead.

  I open my eyes and search the group behind me. When my eyes meet Natani’s, I beckon him closer. As soon as he sits down, I explain what I’m trying to do. “But I don’t know if I have the power for it.”

  Natani nods even as lines appear around his eyes. “Not going to be easy here.”

  “I know. I’m going to have to pull from you and both our wardstones if this is going to work.” I touch the crystal hidden under my clothes. “We might have to pull so much it drains them. Ours, at least.”

  “Worth it if it works, though,” Sanii says.

  “And we’ll be heading back to Kaisuama once we have the Imaku stone, won’t we?” Natani taps one of his wardstones. “You can fix these there.”

  It’s not that, I almost say. I just hate having to pull from the wardstones at all. I hate the way this air feels in my lungs, like it’s sucking something vital out of me with each breath. Can the world be so empty of desosa it steals it from any living thing reckless enough to cross into its borders? I wouldn’t have thought so, but there’s no other way to describe what this is like.

  After resettling the wardstone hanging around my neck so it rests directly against my skin, I grip Natani’s hand and close my eyes. Last time, with Lo’a, I played his part, becoming the extra power source to boost and reshape the magic she needed to work. Natani is conduit and anchor this time, but the work is all going to have to come from me.

  Which means I had better know what the bellows I’m doing.

  Lo’a’s basic explaination of her magic has helped me understand what I sensed when a member of her family worked with those symbols. The power really isn’t in the symbols, it’s in the mage and it’s in the world. Like the Ryogans’ spells, the hanaeuu we’la maninaio use symbols as a visual and tangible channel for their power, an easier way for their minds to control what they want to happen. I might not need the symbols at all. But since I remember them, I sketch them on everyone’s skin and clothes with the charred end of a stick. Then, I begin to try.

  I start with a small ward, only around Natani and myself. Once it’s in place, I focus on hiding us from sight. I remember how it felt when Lo’a took what I gave her and wound it around the protections painted onto the wagons. Repeating it, though…

  Four times I open my eyes, looking up to meet Tessen’s gaze. Each time, he’s watching me, waiting for something to happen. On the fifth time, though, he blinks, a smile slowly spreading across his face.

  “There’s a blur,” he says, “but it’s barely there. I can’t see you at all. If I wasn’t me, I don’t think I’d notice anything.”

  “I certainly don’t see it,” Sanii says.

  Good. That’s exactly as it should be.

  “I don’t know how long I’ll be able to hold it, but I should at least be able to get us through the open places.” Hopefully. Unless the whole prison is one big open space.

  “At least we’ll have that,” Chio says on an exhale as we settle in to wait. “Kaisubeh know we won’t have anything else on our side in there.”

  …

  It takes Miari, Tsua, and Tessen almost too long to find what we need. The sun is rising on the morning of Mushokeiji’s supply delivery before they return from one of their searches with triumphant, if tired, smiles.

  We hide most of our packs and supplies where we’ve been camping—all we carry with us is water, weapons, and food for two days. It had better be enough.

  Within half an hour of leaving camp, we’re free-climbing the north face of Mushokeiji’s mountain, aiming for a ledge halfway up the slope. Wehli insisted on coming with us, despite Tyrroh all but ordering him to stay behind—his persistence, and his partners’ support of it, finally convinced our nyshin-ma to relent. It only takes a few minutes of climbing to prove that Wehli was right. He’s slower than I’ve ever seen him, but he can do it. Even using footholds to launch himself up and catch the next handhold, he’s a stronger climber than Osshi. Tsua and Etaro keep careful watch over our persistent Ryogan to ensure we don’t lose him to gravity.

  Miari leads us to a shadowy spot directly below the ledge she’d pointed out, and only when we’re almost on top of it do I see why. Hidden in the natural shape of the slope is a perfectly square opening, one with thick metal bars blocking entrance. There seems to be a lock on one side and some way to open it from the inside, but Miari doesn’t bother with that. She places her hand on the stone and shifts it away from the bars, making the lock irrelevant. The whole thing swings open at a light touch.

  The shaft is just wide enough for us to fit through comfortably one by one. The narrow width makes it easy to brace my hands and feet against the sides and lower myself slowly instead of sliding down and crashing out the other end.

  After about fift
y feet, I drop onto smooth stone. The space is small, barely five feet square, so I immediately get out of the way, moving toward the doorway where Tessen is waiting, guarding the entry. I can’t see much because the only light comes from the long vent cut into the mountain, but Tessen will be able to see more. Producing our own light isn’t smart until we have a better idea of where we are within the prison. And who might see it.

  It takes longer than usual for Tessen to tell what’s ahead, and I wonder if this place is affecting him the same way it is me. It’s hard to find enough desosa to power my wards in here, more so than it was in our camp. Even the very first time I purposefully created a ward wasn’t this difficult. I didn’t think I relied on ambient desosa this much—I’d always believed most of the fuel for a basic ward came from inside me—but here… If I didn’t have the wardstones, I don’t know if I’d be able to deflect more than a dozen swordblows. Hopefully, we won’t have to test what the wardstones can protect us from until we’re well away from this deadzone.

  Leaning in close to Tessen, I hand sign, clear?

  No. He answers in hand signals. People. Many. Movement.

  Quick signals tell him to lead on when it’s safe; several minutes pass before he moves.

  We enter a narrow hall with a strangely high ceiling. It must be at least thirty feet above our heads. The lighting gets a little better as we walk, and what we find at the end of the hall must be the center of the mountain. Or at least the center of Mushokeiji. A circular ledge surrounds what looks like an open drop, and wooden doors—twelve I can see—lead…somewhere. Light comes from lamps hanging at increments from the roof of each level. From this vantage point I can see six floors above us. I can’t guess how much farther up or down into the mountain the prison spreads.

  “This is…big,” Etaro murmurs behind me.

  And ey’s right. Where are we supposed to start searching in a place like this? If the doors I can see from here continue all the way around the ledge, there are at least thirty on this level. If each level I counted has the same arrangement, there are more than two hundred doors. More than two hundred rooms to search. And that’s without including the offshoot tunnels and hiding places a structure like this could conceivably have and bellows. I hope the commanding officer has a map in their room. If not, we could be here for decades and not find what we’re looking for.

  Tessen waits at the alcove, staying to the shadows and listening for several minutes. We all do the same behind him to keep from making some small motion or sound to distract him.

  Tessen looks back at me, catching my eye and hand signing, ready?

  I draw power in tiny increments from my wardstones and then expand it outward, enveloping my squad one by one. Once I have a firm grip on the shape I need the desosa to hold, I straighten from the wall and issue one last warning.

  “You won’t be seen, and our noises will be muffled, but if you knock into something or someone, invisibility won’t matter.” I remind them all. “Be careful.”

  They nod or simply settle in, adjusting weapons and stances and positions. No one, not even Rai, offers a smart remark. Instead, they look to Chio, Tyrroh, and Tessen, the three who will have to lead us through this labyrinth of stone.

  When Tessen signals clear ahead, we move out. I stay securely in the middle of the group, too much of my attention tied up in keeping us hidden to trust my reaction time. Instead, I let the others guide my steps while I take in the complex structure we’ve found ourselves in, a place even those who belong in this land aren’t supposed to see.

  The floor the ventilation shaft dropped us onto seems to be near the middle of Mushokeiji. Six levels above us and four below, with bridges crossing the open center of the prison every third floor. Hanging from those bridges are iron cages, suspended in open air by long chains. The one I can see most clearly is empty, but there are more, above and below us. None of those are unoccupied, and the people inside look wasted, barely more than a pile of rags and skin and bone.

  The ceiling here is only ten feet high, and I get a better look at the lamps. Globes emitting a white light a lot like Sanii’s are held by metal cages and attached to the stone with iron chains. Whatever’s powering them, they’re spaced about ten feet apart from one another, each one centered between two of the thick wood doors in the walls. A square about the length of my hand is cut at eye-height in each door, and it’s obstructed by iron bars. When we stop for Tessen to check our directions, I peer into the room.

  It’s a cell. There’s no light inside. No mattress or sleep pad. Nothing but shadows and stone and one long-haired, blade-thin person curled up in the corner, using their arm as a pillow.

  Pulling back, I look at the other doors. Thirty-six on this level. Eleven levels, at least. If all those doors are cells, and all those cells hold one or more prisoners… Bellows. A voice in the back of my head whispers, maybe we should release them. But no. Getting through this without anyone knowing we were here is the priority. Releasing them can’t be an option unless there’s no other way out.

  Tessen leads us down a curving stairwell off another narrow hallway, and I drop the invisibility. I can bring it back up at a moment’s notice, but it’s easier to breathe without it.

  At each level, Tessen pauses, listening before he continues down, down, and down again until we’re at the bottom of Mushokeiji’s core. There he stops longer, waving at us to be quiet. Twice. The second time, no one was even moving. All I can do to be quieter is hold my breath and stop my heartbeat. One out of two will have to be enough. I break and have to take a breath twice before he finally signals us to move ahead.

  I bring my invisibility ward back up as soon as Tessen moves.

  This level is obviously different from the one we came in on. None of the doors have holes or bars, and although the center is empty and open to the floors above, the rest of the level is different. There are rooms set down hallways extending from the center of Mushokeiji like the spokes of a wheel, and it feels more like the barracks of Itagami than the prison levels above us. And then there’s the light. It comes not only from the globes hanging from the ceiling, but also the thin, barred windows looking out over Suakizu’s empty valley.

  Tessen leads us down one hallway and up another. We pass a kitchen and dining hall and a healer’s workspace—but thankfully none of the people inside notice us hurry by. Twice we have to duck into an empty room and wait for a guard to pass or else risk them running into someone. Each time, I drop my wards completely, closing my eyes and leaning against the wall. I feel flushed. Overheated. The stone is blissfully cool against my skin. It’s probably the first and only time I’ll be grateful for Ryogo’s horrible temperatures.

  Maybe it’s the specific magic I’m trying to work. Maybe it’s this dead place. Maybe both. Whatever the cause, I don’t know if I can keep us hidden long enough to get us out of here unseen. The longer this search goes on, the harder it’s becoming. At first it was only a mild strain. Now, even with Natani’s help and my wardstones to draw from, I feel like I’m trying to carry twice my own weight up a mountain.

  I lose track of time with nothing more than my own breaths to tell me how long it’s been, but eventually Tessen stops and whispers something to Chio. Then Tessen moves to the closest door, pressing his ear against the wood, and Chio turns toward us. He pulls Tsua and Tyrroh closer, whispering to them; the orders trickle down the line.

  “These should be the commanding officers’ rooms,” Etaro murmurs to me. “If Tessen says they’re empty, we’ll split to search them. Don’t disturb what’s inside more than needed.”

  After Tessen gives the all-clear, Chio and Tyrroh split us into groups. Except me. When Tyrroh reaches me, he gently orders, “Let up for a while and rest, Khya. We’ll need you functional once we know where we have to go next.”

  I nod, exhaling and releasing my wards once everyone is inside the rooms. Rubbing my eyes, I lean heavily against the wall. Someone offers me a canteen. I don’t look up to see who; I
take it and swallow far too much. I’ve been on marathon patrols in the middle of Shiara’s dry season and felt less dehydrated than this.

  I let my arms and head hang, eyes closed. I don’t know if I’ll be ready when it’s time to move. Especially when my wardstones are only half as powerful now as they were when we left camp. Natani has stayed with me, so close I can grab his hand if I need the anchor; hopefully him and what’s left of the wardstones will be enough to make sure we get through this alive.

  Then he touches my shoulder. “They found something.”

  I lift my head, absently watching Wehli and Nairo flow past us. Natani and I slowly follow them toward the room at the far end of the hall. We’re last to enter. Everyone is gathered around a small table, peering at something on the surface. Maps. Each shows one level of Mushokeiji with symbols and notes written on the edges. Some are numbers that don’t make sense until Tyrroh adds another paper to the table, one with both numbers and names.

  Cell assignments. These are the people trapped in those dark, windowless rooms.

  I force the realization aside, listening to their discussion and trying to follow it, but I’m lightheaded. And hot. And exhausted. I need more time, so I let Tessen and the others decide where to go next while I find a chair and sit down.

  “Unless they’ve turned one of the cells into storage and left it unmarked on the map,” Chio says after they’ve gone through each level several times, “the most logical places to hide it would be on this floor or the twelfth floor.”

  Twelve floors? I only saw eleven. There must be a full floor above what I thought was Mushokeiji’s roof.

  “It had better not be in one of the cells,” Tessen mutters. “If they did that, we’ll definitely be spotted before we find it. Khya can’t last that long.”

  When everyone glances at me, I just shrug. “I’d argue with him, but it’s true.”