by Rain Oxford
He stood and shrugged. He was five-seven with black hair and dark green eyes. His abundant muscle tone suggested he did a lot of manual labor. I didn’t think Syndrial had many gyms. “Unless they come to you, I don’t know, and since you’re not dead, I doubt they’ll come for you.”
“Can you help us?”
He shook his head. “All I can tell you is to go home if you can. You don’t want to anger Maori.”
“What did you do that got you here?”
“I killed a priest.”
“Well, that’s pretty bad.”
“He exiled my daughter and wouldn’t let me go with her. I didn’t mean to kill him. I fought him and accidentally bashed his head into a stone wall. I just didn’t want to be separated from my daughter. Now she’s in the Land of the Gods and I’ll never see her again. I hate the gods and magic.”
“They exiled her because she was a caster?” I asked. He nodded. “Then I can’t blame you. Some of the priests are assholes.”
“I wish Maori would see it that way. He won’t let me see her. He has a magic mirror to show people other worlds and realms, but he uses it for torture. He feeds off our agony.”
I figured he meant that as a figure of speech, but when I opened my mouth to get back on the subject, Luca put his hand on my arm. “What do you mean?” he asked.
“He grows more powerful the more we suffer.”
“It makes his magic stronger or his life?”
“Both.”
“And he chooses which of you go free and which of you are punished for all of eternity?” I asked. He nodded. “That sounds like he could be exploiting you.”
“What do we do?” Luca asked.
I shrugged. “These people did something to get here, even if they’re not that bad. We need to get the sword before he does some real damage.” Luca’s expression was wounded, but I didn’t know what to say. The Painter had done much worse than this man. “Do you know what direction Maori is in?” I asked.
“He isn’t in any direction,” the man said. “You are where he sends you and he is where he wants to be. There is no direction here.”
I looked around the small islet of black sand and rock. “What do you do for food or water? Does someone bring you meals?”
“We’re dead; we have no food or water.”
“Well, that’s a bonus for you, I guess.”
“We still feel like we need it. That’s part of what makes this place so torturous. We constantly feel hungry and dehydrated, but we’ll never die.”
Luca looked at me expectantly, which I also ignored. I could easily conjure food or water for the guy, but doing so was a step closer to forgiving Painter, and it meant trusting the stranger at his word. For all I knew, he’d slaughtered a thousand babies.
“I bet if we cause a scene, Maori would come to us,” Luca said.
“Sneaking up on him would be smarter,” I argued.
Luca rolled his eyes. “And how do you propose we do that?”
“If you stopped being tortured, do they come for you?” I asked. “Or do they come at a specific time?”
“Well, that was my torturer, and you killed him. Maori will most likely send another one.”
“Good. When they do, we can commandeer their vessel. Speaking of which, did your torturer have any means of transportation?”
“No. He was here when I got here and never stopped torturing me.”
“What did he do?”
“If the faceless men touch you, you will relive every moment you regret.”
“Why regret?” Luca asked.
Before he could respond, the man’s eyes widened and he ducked back behind the rock. Luca and I turned to see a boat slowly sailing around another rock mountain in the distance. Not wanting to give up the element of surprise, Luca and I joined the dead man.
“Here’s the plan. You go stand over there and look out at the lava sea,” I said, gesturing to a position visible to the boat. “When the faceless man docks, don’t look at him. He’ll approach you and when he passes the rocks, we’ll jump him.”
“What if something goes wrong?”
“Then we’ll deal with it. You’re dead already, so what’s the worst that can happen?”
“Just because I’m dead doesn’t mean I don’t feel pain.”
“After we get the boat, then what?” Luca asked.
“I don’t know. I have only been practicing magic for six months.”
“Well, we’ve been doing this sort of thing for ten years now. All the memories you have of me, I have, too. If we were in a game, what would we do?”
“Explore.”
“Then let’s stick with what we know.”
“Alright. We’ll try it. What’s your name?” I asked the dead man.
“Hakta.”
Hakta reluctantly left the cover of the rock and turned his back on the advancing boat. A few minutes later, I heard the boat touch crunchy sand and a person got out. Luca and I were poised, ready to attack, but the person stopped just a step or two away from being revealed to us.
“Hello, Father,” said a young girl.
Hakta spun around so fast I thought he was going to trip and fall into the lava. “Rika!”
Luca and I shared a look. We both immediately knew it was a trap.
“I’m here to take you home,” she said.
“I know that’s not true,” Hakta said, surprising us.
“Of course it’s true.”
“Tell me something only my daughter would know.”
“Use sekha,” Luca whispered.
“I thought that was for invisible locks,” I said. He rolled his eyes. I focused on my magic and said the word. Nothing happened.
“You really need to have more faith in me,” Luca said.
I focused harder. I imagined the disguise breaking away like a porcelain mask, revealing a faceless man. “Sekha.”
The imposter suddenly changed to look identical to the previous faceless man. “Better,” Luca praised. “Now finish him.”
“Omtakha,” I said. The faceless man shot into the lava.
“Damn. Those are easier than giant rats and spiders. Maori don’t know how to game.”
“All first levels start out like that,” I chided. “They’ll get harder as we go along.”
“This is the final level,” Luca argued.
“This can’t be.”
“Five bucks.”
“Ten.”
“Deal.”
Luca and I ran to the boat. It was made of carved volcanic rock and could accommodate four people at the most. There also weren’t any paddles. As soon as we reached it, Hakta approached hesitantly. “There’s room for you,” I offered. “If you stay, another tormentor will probably come for you.”
He nodded and got in carefully.
“Great. Now, shall I paddle with my hands?” Luca asked, getting in. I got in behind him.
“I don’t know.” I didn’t get a chance to say anything else, though; the instant I sat, the boat started drifting away from the shore. “Either this is going back to base, or we’re fucked,” I said.
“If this is taking us back to base, which would be the spawning ground for the faceless men, then we’re fucked either way,” Luca corrected. We sat in awkward silence for a few minutes. Since the boat was going a consistent speed, we knew it wasn’t just drifting freely. “This totally feels like we broke a guy out of jail.”
“I doubt he’s the last one before we get out of here.”
“As much as I hate to be a nitpicker, I need to point out that you haven’t gotten me out of here,” Hakta said. “In fact, you’re possibly heading towards Maori with me.”
“We could call Anubis,” Luca suggested.
“Why?”
“Anubis can judge him again and decide if he’s paid for his crime.”
“I don’t want to bother the god.”
“You can’t punish every wrongdoer for what the Painter did. You promised him you’d let that g
o. He gave up his magic for you, his immortality.”
“I’m trying, okay? I’m honestly trying.”
“I know. I’m just pointing it out because you’ll regret it later if you don’t help people. Painter kills people, not you. You protect people, dead or alive.”
“I couldn’t even protect you from Whisperer and Reader,” I said.
He shrugged. “I’m a nosey shit. Besides, it was Listener who got me. I was just lucky he couldn’t tell the others who I was. It’s way too hard to kill someone who can read my mind. Besides, we might be able to get revenge on him here.”
* * *
An hour or so later, we passed another islet, where two people were in a screaming match and another was sitting by the lava, crying.
“That’s so sad,” Luca said.
“What is?” I asked.
He rolled his eyes. “Obviously, the boy had to hear his parents fight his entire childhood and that’s his version of Hell.”
“He’s not really a boy.” The guy was at least twenty and had done something to get to Kradga. “Why are we seeing his torture? I thought the faceless men could make them see stuff.”
“They can, but that’s not always the best method of punishment,” Hakta said. “Sometimes, their regret isn’t strong enough, so Maori uses the faceless men to make it worse. The two who are disguised as the fighting couple are faceless men. They can look like anyone.”
“Aside from lava, do they have any weaknesses?”
“Not that I know of. They’re not intelligent, thinking creatures; they only do the job they are assigned to do.”
“How did they torture you?” Luca asked.
“They made me relive it. When they were taking my daughter, she held onto me as hard as possible, begging me to make them go away and not let them take her. She didn’t understand that I wasn’t abandoning her like her mother did. She kept saying that she would be a better daughter.”
“I know that feeling,” Luca said, a lost look in his eyes.
* * *
And hour or so later, we passed another islet, where a woman was sitting against a large boulder, sweating and panting, barely conscious. There didn’t appear to be a faceless man with her.
“What’s going on there?” I asked.
“That happens sometimes. Our souls can’t take the punishment so we break down for a while. We can no longer feel anything. It’s usually temporary, though. It’s like being in a restless sleep. The faceless men return if and when we recover.”
In the distance, we saw a massive stone tower. The closer we got, the more my skin crawled. There was a cave entrance, where two other boats were leaving with faceless men. “What do we do?” Luca asked.
I pulled out my book.
The silver robes that the Writer and Luca were wearing suddenly turned black and matched those of the faceless men.
Robes were simple objects and would be easy to transform. At least, that was what I told myself as I wrote it. That was what I made myself believe.
And because of that, it changed easily.
Without making a fuss, Luca put his hood up, covering his face. I did the same. It wasn’t foolproof, but it was better than nothing.
“What about me?” Hakta asked.
“Obviously, you’ve never watched any sci-fi,” Luca said. “We’re going to pretend that you’re our prisoner.”
Hakta didn’t ask the question I knew he was dying to ask.
We got closer and closer to the tower without anyone raising alarm. Lava illuminated the cave’s interior. It wasn’t what I had expected to see. There was a solid walkway on either side of the stream of lava. Large tunnels littered the walls for the faceless men to come and go through. We only saw three of the faceless men, which was probably why we made it.
“I can’t say I’m surprised the god of Hell would be understaffed,” Luca said.
I nodded. “He’s probably not too fun to work for.”
We finally reached dry rock and got out of the boat. It was suspiciously empty, until I saw one of the faceless men appear in the boat we had just vacated. He started sailing away.
“Where to?” Hakta asked.
“Probably through that door,” I answered.
“Why?”
“Because it’s the only door. Are you ready, Luca?”
“It’s too early for surrender, too late for a prayer. We can’t go to Hell if we’re already there.”
We went through it and found ourselves in a dungeon. The walls, floor, and ceiling were made of the same stone as the rest of the tower. The room was twelve-by-twelve. Three cells lined the east wall and another three lined the west wall. We had entered through a door in the south wall and opposite us was another door. Aside from that, there were chains and blades hanging from the north and south walls. The floor also sloped inward to a small hole in the center. The stone around it was stained with blood.
The bars of the cells were grimy, but not nearly as much as the floors. Each of them contained a prisoner, a pot, and straw on the floor.
“Hakta, watch our back. Luca, watch our front.” Luca went to the exit door while Hakta stared at me with confusion. “Guard the door we came in to make sure we don’t get ambushed,” I explained.
“Oh.” He went to the door and stood guard.
I went to the closest conscious prisoner. “Excuse me,” I said gently. The man opened his eyes. “Can you tell me any weaknesses Maori might have?”
“Gods have no weaknesses,” the man whispered.
“Everyone has a weakness. Do you know if he has a special sword on him, particularly a new one?”
“When Maori comes, we hide as best as we can, we don’t observe his clothing.”
“Is he through that door?”
“No,” the woman in the cage to his right said. “Maori stays in the top of the tower except once a day, when he comes to pick one or more of us out for his… entertainment.”
“What kind of entertainment?”
“It depends on what he’s in the mood for.”
“Why are you here and not out there with the other people?” Luca asked.
“Those of us in here can’t be punished, either because we don’t believe we did wrong or because we did it for the right reason.”
“How do I find him?”
“What do you want with him?”
“We’re going to destroy him,” Luca lied before I could answer.
“I’ve only seen it once, but through that door, go straight. There are two more doors to go through, and then you’ll see a portal in the floor of the third room. It looks like a round pool of liquid metal. It’ll take you from the dungeon to the top.”
“Thank you.”
“You!” Hakta shouted, pointing at a prisoner across the room. “You’re the priest who took my daughter!”
“Dude, shut it,” Luca urged.
A moment later, the prisoner Hakta had pointed out stood and approached the bars with a swagger. It was the Whisperer.
“That’s impossible. You said you killed the one who tried to exile her.”
“I did! That’s why I’m here!”
Whisperer sneered. “I remember you. You were the one with that nasty little brat who bit me.”
“I killed you!”
“No, you didn’t,” Luca said. “We banished him here.”
“You had no part in it,” Whisperer sneered. “It was the Painter who defeated me.”
Luca snorted. “Someone needs to read his TV guide. I am the Painter, bitch.”
“Perhaps that secret would have been better revealed at another time.”
“My bad, Brother. Premature confessions suck.”
Whisperer turned ashen.
“I take it healer patched you up after Hakta wounded you?”
“He barely injured me.”
“Then Hakta shouldn’t be here at all.”
“Who cares? Neither of you will get out of here alive anyway.”
Luca shouted as he w
as grabbed from behind. He kicked automatically, but since it was a faceless man who was holding him, the kick had no effect. Hakta cried out as he was grabbed by another one, who appeared out of thin air. I tried to punch the faceless man attacking Luca in the throat, but another one grabbed me from behind. Instantly, my world changed.
* * *
There were many moments in my life that I wished I could redo. When I was seven, I left the gate open and my dog escaped the yard. I never saw him again. When I was ten, I told a girl I liked her and she said I was too weird. When I was eleven, I was angry with my mom for not letting me see an R-rated movie, so I broke a glass figurine. I later learned that it had been the only thing she had left from her grandmother.
The biggest moments that I regret, however, were all caused by me being a freak. I was eight when I was supposed to go to my dad’s sister’s house for Thanksgiving. We never even made it there. I hadn’t realized there was anything strange about me yet, but my parents had.
“It’s mine!” my five-year-old cousin screeched at the top of her lungs, trying to take my stuffed Pikachu.
“No, it’s not!” I yelled back.
“Nathanial Jones, you give her that toy this instant!” my aunt screeched, her voice unpleasantly similar to her daughter’s. Patty spoiled Rebecca so much it was gross.
“It’s not hers!” I argued. I felt my temperature rise and started breathing heavily. I knew she was going to demand that I give my favorite toy to my destructive cousin. I’d never get it back. My dad caught my eye in the review mirror.
“It’s his toy,” he told Patty.
She turned her head to glare at me, her face red with rage. “Learn to share, you stingy little bastard!” She reached back to smack my legs and my dad swerved.
“Cut that out,” he demanded.
She turned around to face the front. “Learn to drive,” she snapped back at him. “And teach your son some manners.”
I was shaking with fury. Again, my dad’s gaze met mine in the mirror. “Nathan, you don’t have to give anyone your toy,” he said calmly. “Just ignore her and think about the fair this weekend. What rides do you want to go on?”
