Page 53 of Wrong Squad, Right Mess

“Someone I know.”

I turned to find him in the doorway, my eyebrow lifting. “How do you know people? You’re stuck in a dungeon…”

“Again, there is a lot you don’t know. Don’t worry—you’ll learn. You will see the doorways that appear, the connection between here and there.”

“A portal? I’ve seen it, and up until I got sucked in here, I was there in the other world.”

Corsa shook his head. “No. You know our world, but there’s another. Have you really never realized that the dungeons are nothing but the collision of two worlds?”

“Everyone knows that.”

“No. I don’t mean our world and the dungeon. There is another world, one that exists entirely outside of ours. Dungeons occur when the two collide, when they impact each other. They can’t actually exist in the same space, so a dungeon is created, a twisted mixture of the two.”

I just stared at him, wondering if this was all just some fantasy his mind had concocted to make sense of a world that just didn’t make sense. I’d seen people do that before, seen them lie to themselves so easily if it helped them endure the insanity of life.

Except, something about the way he spoke, about the materials the cabin was made of, it all kept me from fully discounting him.

“You’ll see,” he said, tone condescending, like he knew the truth but understood I was too stupid to accept it—yet. “Until then, there is food in that cabinet above the sink. It doesn’t need to be cooked, but if you must warm something, use the dish above that.” He gestured at a crystal near the corner, one I’d glanced over without noticing.

It was the size of a chair, dim, but glowing faintly now that I looked at it. I moved closer to find heat escaping it. It wasn’t strong, not like a fire, but the subtle heat warmed the entire cabin.

“What is this?” I asked.

“A power source from the other world. It’ll keep the cabin warm, but if you set one of those plates on it, it will transfer more heat there to warm the food. Don’t touch it, however.”

I yanked my hand back. “Why?”

“It can burn. It’s mostly safe, but it can flare from time to time.” He twisted his head, looking toward the wall as though he could see farther. Lines appeared in his expression, annoyance there. “I’ll return. Stay here.” He didn’t wait for an answer, the door closing behind him as he left.

I waited only a few minutes before cracking the door and peering outside.

No sign.

I slipped outside, the area quiet. He’d gone somewhere, but he’d done the same thing before as well. He hadn’t spent all day by my side, and I’d rarely seen him other than when he’d needed me.

It surprised me that he hadn’t demanded guiding yet. After ten years, I would have thought he’d jump right on that, but he hadn’t. It bothered me, because I wasn’t naïve enough to think that implied something better. I didn’t think it meant he was going to leave me be or respect my choices. Instead, it felt like I knew something far worse was headed my way.

The draw from before hadn’t left me, either, so I headed toward the heart. Nothing else seemed to move around me, no sign of the guards he’d claimed were there. The trees thinned and broke into a clearing that had the heart.

It reminded me of how I’d fallen asleep right here so many times. It hadn’t drawn me in as it did now, but it had been the only landmark I’d had back then. Once the portal had closed, when Corsa had moved me away from the buildings there, there had been only trees and ash and the dark sky. This one location had given me a sense of place.

“It’s the same,” I whispered to myself. Already I wondered if I was losing my mind, like I was preparing the idea of being locked here by myself for so long.

The opening was only around twelve feet across, the soft soil showing no signs of footprints, nothing to imply anyone or anything walked through it. In the center was a raised stone platform, gray and pristine, like nothing had ever touched it. So much in the dungeon seemed ash covered and ancient, but not that.

On top of the stone was the heart, floating there just above the platform, though it did look slightly different. It still shone, appearing like obsidian, but now a crack ran through it.

Had I done that? By touching it, had I actually cracked the thing?

I thought back to the intense pain, to the way it had scrambled all my senses. I didn’t remember it cracking, but what did I know? Everything had been so overwhelming that I could have easily missed it.

I took one step toward it, then another.

I paused when I realized what I was doing. I wouldn’t discount picking the same way out again, especially if things went as they had before, but I couldn’t do that yet. I had no idea what touching it would do this time.

What if it destroyed The Pitt? I couldn’t risk the espers who were trapped inside, the civilians still hoping for rescue, or my squad.

No, if I saw no other way out again, I’d grasp that heart as tightly as I had the last time. I doubted it would save me a second time, but I’d take whatever it gave out.