Duodecim stands in a room not unlike the one Ahmose and I are in. Another Gleaner lies on the floor, staring up at him, smears of black blood glinting where Duodecim has evidently sliced its blades from its body. It tries to crawl away—an act of self-preservation or something else, I have no idea—but Duodecim stalks after it. With a quick thrust, he spears the fallen Gleaner through the mouth before turning and moving swiftly back into the hallway.
I come back to myself. The dead Gleaner was given plenty of time to seeDuodecim, to know what was happening and broadcast a warning. Ka didn’t seem able to command Duodecim to stop, but other Gleaners will undoubtedly be coming to make sure he does.
Which, hopefully, leaves our way forward clear.
I beckon Ahmose and move at a half-crouching jog out of the room and to the left, the same direction that Duodecim took. It’s been about three minutes and I have to trust the Gleaner’s assessment, have to assume he would have taken into account that out here we will be completely exposed. We proceed in grim silence, every breath tense. Once I hear running ahead and my heart goes to my throat. A Gleaner passes across the corridor in front, flitting obliquely, visible for only a second. It never looks around.
Two lefts, straight past two crossroads, a right. I keep the map Duodecim described to me tightly in my head. It is a maze in here, and everything looks the same, all mirrored, triangular openings and straight lines of green light. No way I could find my way without help. No way I can figure out the way back if I miss a turn.
Four turns before the last one Duodecim gave me, the tunnels change. The lines of light remain the same, but the mirrored black is replaced by dull stone, the lack of reflections making everything immediately darker. Doors to the side are open, and we pass several empty rooms. I make the mistake of glancing in the first one. The floor is slick, and manacles hang from the roof. A fetid smell wafts from it.
I hurry on, and Ahmose stays close behind.
Footsteps in several side passages now, measured but quick. I ignore them. Two turns remaining. One. It feels like there’s activity everywhere around us, but the passageways are narrower and twisting and more easily hide us from sight and still, somehow, we are unseen.
The last turn and there is light ahead. Not sunlight, not natural light, but a virulent glow that emanates across a great space.
We burst out the corridor entrance and onto a long, raised stone terrace. I skid to a halt.
Beyond the edge ahead, unfolding away from us below, is Duat.
It’s more vast than I could possibly have imagined. The Infernis cuts through the heart of the massive city, just as Caeror said it would. Everything closer to us—almost a third of the expanse, I would say—is a shimmering sea of black-mirror structures and roads, eerily lit and delineated by the same emeraldlines of light as the tunnels we’ve just fled. Wide streets reflect the motion of distant, white-clad forms shuffling along them.
I don’t need my hours of poring over maps to guess that this side of the river must be Neter-khertet, Duat’s great iunctii quarter.
Distant, across the single dark bridge slicing the Infernis, almost everything looks different. Squat buildings of chalky stone, dusty-looking streets dividing them. Though we are too far away to hear or see anything distinct, there is a dull hum that echoes from its direction that reminds me of Caten. A constant background noise that by instinct I know is the combined voices of thousands upon thousands of people.
It’s all lit by the enormous radiant pyramid that sits at Duat’s heart, towering above all else. Massive polished black stones edged with illuminating lines of warm gold. No motion anywhere along its vast surface. On the opposite side of the river, but its surrounding acres of darkly reflective structures are a blotch that seems to have seeped across the water into the otherwise bright, gold-tinged spread of the far side of the city.
I take as much of it in as I can before Ahmose tugs urgently at my arm. The balcony we’re on is set high into one of Duat’s dark, inwardly sloping outer walls; the only path down is a covered stairwell off to the left. It’s sealed off by a gate made of several spear-like bars; we hurry toward it, and as we do, I realise that something is off.
“We cannot go through here.” Ahmose is dismayed as he sees what I’m seeing, feels what I’m feeling. The fear of what is behind us suddenly wars with the fear of what is ahead.
Thrum.
The deep, terrifying discomfort presses down on my ears as we approach. Me forcing myself closer. The unsettling fuzzing of the air around each bar, a jagged visual warping, as though just briefly they are moving, as if the air around them is vibrating.
Red-coated stands. Screaming.
“Do not touch them. You will die.” Ahmose’s urgent voice cuts through the nightmare. Brings me sharply back to this one.
I use a precious second to move to the edge of the terrace and peer over. It’s two hundred feet to the stone below.
I back away, and close my eyes.
Duodecim is still fighting, using the narrow entrance of the room he’s inas a choke point, but he’s in bad shape. I can see cuts everywhere on his torso as he swings again and again at the other Gleaners trying to get to him. His movements are sluggish. He is not getting away.
Even as I watch, the one he is fighting lashes out again and this time, Duodecim doesn’t try to avoid the strike. Instead he deflects the blade upward from his chest.
Allows it to drive straight into his mouth.
“Ngh.” I groan and hold my hands to my head, pain searing through it. The connection’s gone. The Will I imbued in him returned.
Duodecim won’t be giving my identity away. But his counterparts will surely be about to conduct some sort of search.
There’s no time for alternatives. No choice.
Before Ahmose can stop me, I stride forward and grasp the bars.
