Mickie had dreamt that he was tired. Not in a physical sense, but a mental one. Tired of a life spent inflicting pain, and tired of the idea that he would spend eternity continuing to do so. He had felt on the edge of a realisation, an understanding that would lead to change. Then, with a gasp, he startled awake from the dream.

  ‘Wake up, ya lazy brat.’

  The branded man sat bolt upright, so fast that Miz-Mag was flung from its position by his head. The demon cursed as it sailed through the air, disappearing into the nearby flowers. Ziz shifted beneath Mickie as he turned about, finding the primordial blinky blearily and Kalistra hunched low near his head.

  ‘What?’

  He muttered, the impressions of the dream slowly fading.

  ‘Something is out there.’

  Kalistra hissed. Any remnants of sleep were shaken free in an instant as Mickie hurried forward.

  ‘What? Where?’

  She pointed, and the branded man followed his companion’s finger to the cave’s far exit, a spot that was devoid of flowers. He saw them immediately, a figure, standing brazenly out in the open.

  ‘Human?’

  Ziz mumbled sleepily, reaching the same conclusion as Mickie had. It did indeed appear to be a mortal, ragged and emaciated, but human still.

  ‘Other people survive down here? How?’

  He whispered. It should have been impossible for any normal mortal to travel the labyrinth. Even with their powers, Mickie’s group had struggled at points.

  ‘Not sure. Miz-Mag and I only just spotted them.’ Kalistra replied.

  ‘That we did, and look at the thanks I get.’

  A voice came from the flowers beside their elevated stone camp. Miz-Mag leapt back into view, giving Mickie a dirty look. The fiend was about six inches tall, with straight black hair tucked behind pointed ears. It wore no clothes, which was not an issue, as Miz-Mag did not have the mortal bodily accessories that a human might.

  ‘Maybe if you didn’t jump me like a rat every time you wake me up, things would go better for you.’

  Mickie said, and earned himself a rude gesture. Miz-Mag joined them in watching the mortal as they moved about the cavern. Their visitor was so gaunt that the branded man could not tell if they were male or female. The mortal’s head was downturned, their features obscured by a nest of matted hair. Even with his improved eyes, all Mickie saw was greying flesh swathed in ragged cloth.

  ‘Have they spotted us?’

  Miz-Mag asked, wandering over towards Ziz and proding the primordial with a foot. Ziz grumbled, but lowered its head, allowing the little fiend to clamber on board.

  ‘I am unsure, we should be easy to notice, but they appear not to have even looked up since entering.’

  It was true, the human seemed more interested in their own toes than the glowing cavern. As the group watched, they knelt down at the edge of the flower field, and unslung some form of backpack.

  ‘What’s that?’

  Miz-Mag asked, leaning forward atop Ziz. Mickie squinted, but from this distance the object was just a lump of dark colour. He made a decision.

  ‘How about we go ask?’

  The branded man raised an eyebrow towards Kalistra, the gorgon hesitating only briefly before nodding. They stepped off the rock and into the flowers, Miz-Mag and Ziz following closely behind. A giant bird creature stomping its way through the cave was rather noisy, yet the mortal did not so much glance up as the group approached.

  Instead, the human reached out and plucked a flower near the edge of the field. Mickie frowned as the sturdy blossom disappeared into the dark bag. As he neared, he realised the object was not truly a backpack. Rather, it was some kind of machine, black and rounded with two straps attached.

  The mortal watched this device intently for what had to be a little over a minute. A panel eventually slid open on top, and the haggard human turned back to the field. They plucked yet another blue flower, turned, and placed it into the machine. The panel slid back into place over the top.

  This process repeated as the group made their way through the cave, with the attending mortal never once glancing up from its work. Mickie stopped with his companions a few meters away, wary of approaching.

  ‘Hey, you there.’

  He called. The words echoed off the stony walls, and faded to silence. Their quiet visitor did not so much as twitch.

  ‘Weird. Should we just get bird brain to eat ‘em?’

  Miz-Mag asked, and was almost thrown free of its perch as Ziz perked up.

  ‘No.’ Kalistra murmured, pensive. ‘I think I know what this person is. Mickie, Maz-Mag, do you recall our time in the eighth circle? When we traveled alongside Sestus.’

  ‘Sure Kali. Don’t know why that’s relevant though.’

  Miz-Mag said, leaning over the side of Ziz’s head.

  ‘Well.’ The gorgon pointed towards the nearby human. ‘I think that person is one of the lost.’

  Mickie frowned. The lost. He remembered them, listless mortals whose purpose had been eroded by the march of time. Back in the eighth circle, Sestus had guided Mickie and his companions through a camp of them. This person certainly had a similar look, there was just one problem.

  ‘I can see it, but I thought the lost were more…’ The branded man paused, thinking of the right word.

  ‘More like living corpses.’ Miz-Mag finished for him. ‘This chap is way too energetic.’

  The machine clicked open beside the human, and they proceeded to load up another flower.

  ‘I’ll admit their current behaviour is odd, but everything else matches. The disregard for their surroundings, the lack of response to external stimuli, theri withered appearance. These are traits of the lost.’

  Kalistra said. She sounded more sure of herself this time, and Mickie was inclined to agree. He was remembering another mortal he had seen like this, one that the Soul Lord had pushed into the abyss. Magareem’s words echoed in Mickie’s ears. That the lost tended to wander places where they should not.

  ‘I suppose there’s only one way to know for sure.’

  The branded man started forward, with the others right on his heels. They approached the lost human, who still made no indication it even knew they existed. Mickie called forth his gun as he stepped up to the flowerless semicircle.

  Unable to conduct their usual tests upon the listless mortal, he settled for proding them with the steel barrel of his weapon. The human swayed with each poke, but its attention did not leave the machine sitting on the floor.

  ‘Hey.’ Mickie said. ‘Anyone in there?’

  Not so much as a weary sigh in response.

  ‘The lost are usually more responsive than that.’

  Kalistra mused, reaching a hand out to grasp the huddled mortal’s chin. She tilted their face upwards, revealing hollow cheeks and dead eyes, just like those Mickie had seen in the eighth circle. The mortal’s features were feminine, and made almost haughty by their gaunt cast. Kalistra released the woman, and her head slowly rotated back onto its prior position.

  ‘Downright freaky.’ Miz-Mag commented. ‘What do you reckon it's grabbing all the flowers for?’

  ‘I am unsure.’ Kalistra replied, examining the vacant semicircle. ‘But whatever the reason, it must have been going on for some time.’

  Mickie understood what she was getting at. Every time the lost woman picked a flower, it was from the edge of the cleared area. That likely meant she had picked the space clean. Judging by how long it took her portable machine to process a single flower, that must have taken a while.

  They tried a few tests, seeing how the mortal reacted to changes in environment. If her machine was moved, she would rise, pick it back up, and place it back in its original spot. Mickie had thought she might have an aversion to entering the flower field. When they placed the device outside the bound of her semi-circle however, she did not hesitate to step outside and collect it.

  ‘Welp, this has been interesting, but shouldn’t we get moving?’

  Miz-Mag said, watching lazily from atop Ziz as the primordial moved the machine from side to side. The young avian seemed to enjoy watching the lost woman meander along after it.

  ‘We could, but it might be worth our time to wait.’

  Kalistra responded, waving at her partner to put the device down.

  ‘You think? I don’t know if we’ll get anything from this one, she seems pretty out of it.’

  The little fiend’s eyes tracked the gaunt human as she scooped up her released machine and turned to her original spot. Mickie gave a sulky Ziz a consoling pat as the gorgon replied.

  ‘I agree, but she had to come from somewhere, and once she is done collecting flowers…’

  ‘She’ll head back.’ Miz-Mag finished, rubbing its chin. ‘Who knows how long that will take though, she’s already been at it for a while.’

  ‘I think it’s a decent plan.’ Mickie said. ‘Even if she takes a while, it’ll be worth seeing what all this is for.’

  It did indeed take some time. Flower after flower disappeared into the device until finally, the processing machine gave a single, resounding chime. Instantly the gaunt woman rose to her feet. She scooped up the device by its straps, slipping it on her shoulders as one would do with a backpack.

  Then, without so much as a second glance at the glowing flower field, she turned and walked into the exit tunnel. Mickie and his companions were still registering the change in behaviour, and scrambled to keep up with the lost soul.

  They followed her into the darkness beyond the cave, and softer earth was swiftly replaced by hard stone. The lost human appeared unbothered by the lack of light, she walked as if by instinct, eyes on the ground ahead. Mickie fished out the orb lamp so his companions, at least, would be able to see where they were going.

  The lost followed a path through the tunnels that no one else could discern, turning without hesitation at every intersection. She was not particularly speedy, which left the others plenty of time to muse over their destination.

  ‘Maybe she doesn’t even know where she’s going.’

  Miz-Mag said. The little demon had moved from Ziz’s head back to its traditional perch on Mickie’s shoulder.

  ‘It does feel like she knows where she’s going though.’ The branded man responded. ‘Plus we’re still passing sections of that hidden pipe. I think she might be heading to the same place we were.’

  ‘Maybe to the fifth circle?’

  Ziz asked, perking up. The primordial was perhaps the most eager out of them all to be free of the labyrinth. It wanted a larger cavern with space to fly.

  ‘I do not believe she will guide us that far. Though we could find a way to expedite the climb.’

  Kalistra replied, her hand resting on the big bird’s flank. Mickie opened his mouth to reply, but paused as he noticed something ahead.

  ‘Hey Ziz, is it getting lighter up there?’

  The primordial turned from Kalistra to regard the passage.

  ‘Yes. It is blue, like before.’

  ‘Another flower field?’ Miz-Mag mused, squinting in its attempt to see where they were being led.

  Their silent guide seemed unfazed by whatever it was, plodding straight towards the shimmering light. Following cautiously behind, the group soon found that it was indeed another cave filled with the glowing flowers. These however, were different, a cavern full of sealed buds instead of open blooms.

  These closed balls glowed a fainter blue than their mature counterparts, though still enough to fill the small space with shifting light. The lost woman walked a path that was free of any plant life, one which linked their entrance to another tunnel.

  ‘Huh.’ Miz-Mag muttered. ‘Weird.’

  Mickie had to agree. He did not have much time to ponder the differences however, as their guide was progressing fast along the worn path.

  ‘I think this might have been another collection spot.’

  Kalistra eventually murmured, her serpentine hair focused upon the primordial beside her. Too large for the narrow pathway, Ziz was forced to wander through the flowers, and was leaving a path of destruction in its wake. These smaller buds were not nearly as sturdy as their developed counterparts.

  ‘But there are flowers here?’

  The big bird said, swishing its tail and striking down a small population of flora.

  ‘Careful.’ Kalistra pleaded with a pained expression. ‘Yes there are flowers, but they are young, fragile.’

  She spoke the last word with emphasis. Mickie was certain that if the gorgon had eyes, they would be narrowed in Ziz’s direction. Kalistra let the words hang a moment before continuing.

  ‘I believe this chamber has already been picked clean, and then left alone to regrow. I am sure once enough of the flowers mature, they too will be harvested.’

  The group followed the lost woman out of the cave and back into the tunnels. After a time the novelty began to wear off, and the plodding pace of their guide induced boredom. Ziz and Miz-Mag soon reverted to a favourite pastime of theirs.

  ‘Maybe he just got lost. You know, took a wrong turn and spent a hundred years wandering about.’

  The little demon said, and Ziz hummed in thought.

  ‘Surely Mickie would remember then. Mickie, do you remember being lost?’

  The branded man released a long suffering sigh.

  ‘No I do not recall anything between getting shot in the head and arriving in Hell.’

  ‘That is not good. Very forgetful of you.’

  The primordial chided, and Miz-Mag gave a low chuckle.

  ‘Yeah kid. I’ve been ‘round for a century or so, and I haven’t forgotten a thing.’

  The culmination of their time in the seventh circle had come with a number of surprises. One of which was the discovery that Belphegor’s second in command was Mickie’s sister, Lucia. She claimed that he had died over a century ago, something the mortal man still struggled to believe.

  There were other things too. Things about his sister which Mickie did not want to dwell on. The feeling of cold steel pressed to the back of his head. Deep within him, something stirred at the unwanted recollection, something black and bubbling.

  ‘I do not believe it possible for a mortal to get lost on the path to Hell. The gates themselves act as a siphon for the dead of the earth, drawing their souls to limbo.’ Kalistra chimed in. It was rare for her to contribute to these discussions, the gorgon did not enjoy speculation for its own sake.

  ‘Oh? And how then, would you explain our mortal friend here?’

  Miz-Mag snarked. Mickie focused on the conversation, pushing the thoughts of his sister from his mind.

  ‘I am unsure. Whatever the case however, it should not be possible for a soul to slip the pull of the gates. At least, not of their own volition.’

  ‘So you’re saying someone dragged him away from the gates of Hell?’

  The little fiend sounded skeptical, but Mickie was almost certain that it was an act. Miz-Mag had been trying to get Kalistra’s opinion on the matter of his death for some time now.

  ‘I am not saying that. All I am saying is that he cannot have simply gotten lost on his way to Hell.’

  Kalistra said, sounding irritated. It looked as if Miz-Mag was going to push her further, but before the fiend could speak, they were interrupted. The ground trembled, and somewhere up above, a deep, groaning rumble echoed. They all paused mid-step, glancing at one another in concern. It was not the first time they had heard the sound, but it was the loudest since Ziz slammed the steel wall.

  Their guide appeared completely unaffected by the noise however, not so much as stumbling with the shivering earth. While concerned, there was little Mickie and his companions could do. They continued after the lost woman, though this time maintaining a wary silence. The threat implied by that distant noise had doused any enthusiasm for idle conversation.

  After what felt like an age of stomping slowly through the dark, the group came across another human in ragged clothing. Gaunt and as unresponsive as the first, this mortal was heading in the opposite direction to their own guide. They also had a flower processing machine hanging from their shoulders. To Mickie it almost seemed like a change in shift, with one person heading in while another set out to take their place.

  The unnerved group decided to stick with their original lost, and soon started seeing changes in the tunnel around them. Sections of black steel, once so infrequent and small, began to overtake large portions of the tunnel.

  When the floor of their passage changed from stone to steel, the group knew they had reached their destination. Fluorescent lights illuminated what appeared to be something out of an underground bunker. A gleaming hallway, broad and tall as the tunnel from which they had come, painted in hues of dull blue and grey.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  It felt uncanny to so abruptly step out of the dusty tunnels to which Mickie had grown so accustomed. As he followed their guide down the new passage, the branded man marvelled at how clean everything seemed. The walls, floor and ceiling gleamed like they had been recently polished. It seemed impossible, had to be impossible. He could see dirty footprints marking the clean steel where their guide stepped. The grime left behind by Mickie and his companions was even worse. The Labyrinth was not a tidy place, and opportunities to wash had been few and far between.

  The mystery of the tunnel's cleanliness was soon answered however, as they passed a ragged mortal upon a stepladder. Another one of the lost, though unlike the others they had seen, this one was not collecting flowers. Instead, they had an array of equipment one would expect from a janitor, and were scrubbing hard at one of the walls. As far as Mickie could see, there was no dirt to clean.

  ‘That, does not, look normal.’

  Miz-Mag said slowly, finally breaking the spell of silence that had fallen upon them.

  ‘Yeah, first we found one of them collecting flowers, and now this…’

  Mickie muttered, watching as the janitor finished with a section of wall. The lost mortal got off their ladder, and shifted it down the hall, only to begin cleaning another spotless section.

  ‘They’re like machines or something.’

  The branded man mused as they hurried to keep up with their guide.

  ‘It is curious.’

  Kalistra replied.

  ‘I wonder what has managed to incentivise them to work like this? As far as I am aware, the lost desire nothing.’

  They passed another janitor further down the hall. This one was scrubbing the floors rather than the walls, and Mickie felt a little guilty as they walked right over the mortal’s work. Their flower gathering friend however, paid characteristically little heed to the other lost.

  When the group finally reached the tunnel’s terminus, they almost lost their flower collecting guide. Mickie stepped into an open cavern, though one unlike any other they had seen so far. Instead of craggy stone, every surface of the domed space gleamed with shining steel. Massive lights hung from the curved ceiling, bathing everything in a warm glow.

  Beneath these artificial suns was a sprawling, strange city. Perfectly identical buildings of dark metal that blended seamlessly with straight streets. Four stories tall, these tenancies stretched on either side of the avenue, broken only by the occasional splash of greenery.

  Most strange of all however, was the lost. They were everywhere, cleaning, walking the streets, maintaining green spaces and even standing around idle. Everything they did seemed done with intent. Even those who stood stationary did so like it was their job, perfectly still, with feet planted and head bowed.

  ‘By the blood.’

  Miz-Mag muttered, then gave a squeak of alarm.

  ‘Kid, the girl, she’s getting away!’

  They all turned to find their guide disappearing into the throng, rapidly becoming another face in a sea of gaunt features. Ziz squawked beside Kalistra, and leapt into the air. With a couple powerful beats of its wings, the primordial landed upon the roof of a nearby building.

  ‘I see her.’ It called down to them. ‘You all follow what I say.’

  They started into the city, Ziz creeping along rooftops and calling out directions until they closed upon their guide. As Mickie jogged forward he was struck by how eerie the city sounded. The only noise the lost made was the padding of feet on steel and the rustle of fabric against skin. While hardly more than a whisper individually, those sounds added up to a strange rhythmic churn, like the drone from a hive of ghosts.

  The trio caught back up to their guide, and resumed trailing her at the lost’s more sedate pace. Finally obtaining access to a space in which it could stretch its wings, Ziz took off into the open air above the city. The primordial would scout ahead, and knew to return if it saw anything too alarming.

  In the tunnels, the lost’s plodding steps had been frustrating. Now they were in the city however, Mickie found it provided him with just enough time to examine their surroundings. Something began to irk him as he wandered past yet another carefully tended green space. It was not the plants themselves, they were common enough varieties he had seen elsewhere in the sixth circle.

  The garden had a single pathway leading into it, with a single bench upon which a single lost sat, rigid as stone. Just like there had been in every garden prior to this, in the same way the building next door was identical to the previous. Mickie frowned, he already knew the structures were identical, that was not the issue. He glanced at a fern as he walked by, about a meter tall with eight broad leaves extending out in a spiral up the stem.

  When they passed the next green space, he glanced inside. The same, simple path. The same park bench, occupied by a gaunt figure in rags. Then the fern, about a meter tall with eight broad leaves extending out in a spiral up the stem.

  ‘Even the plants…’

  ‘What’s that?’

  Miz-Mag asked, turning from its own examination of a nearby building. Mickie walked slowly away from the greenspace.

  ‘Even the plants are identical.’

  Buildings, he could understand, layout too. But nature was not so easy to control or predict. The volume of work required to have two plants appear identical like that.

  ‘It’s creepy alright.’

  Miz-Mag said, casting a look back at the tidy square of greenery.

  ‘It’s also unreasonable. Why would anyone bother keeping something that perfect?’

  Mickie responded. Before they could get any further however, there was a loud thud and rush of air as Ziz landed on a nearby rooftop. They all turned to the primordial, if it had returned this quickly, then there was likely news.

  ‘Everything looks the same.’ It said, the projected words echoing over the sounds of the lost. ‘Everything except one part. Also there is a big hole.’

  Kalistra was a little ways ahead of Mickie, keeping a close eye on their flower collecting guide. Even from a distance though, the branded man could see her exasperated sigh.

  ‘A big hole? Remember what we said about details?’

  As Ziz grumbled at the reprimand, Mickie hurried to catch up with his companion.

  ‘I remember.’ The primordial said. ‘But what else can I say? It is a big hole.’

  ‘Where is it? How big is it?’

  Miz-Mag suggested from its partner’s shoulder.

  ‘In the middle of the city, and it is big.’

  For all that Ziz was an impressive scout, it was often difficult to get the big bird to provide useful information. Kalistra rubbed her forehead, hair twisting in agitation.

  ‘Alright. Go take another look.’ To Mickie, she said. ‘Lend a hand?’

  The branded man nodded, reaching out to take hold of the gorgon’s elbow. Kalistra preferred to have Ziz do the scouting personally, but in the more important occasions they had come up with another system. The gorgon would connect her vision to her partner’s, taking most of her focus away from her body.

  She could still function when doing so, but had a tendency to lose focus. After one too many trips, Mickie had taken to guiding her actual body if movement was required. With the speed at which the lost walked, it was more than enough to keep up. Ziz took to the air again, and it was not long before Kalistra gave a contemplative hum.

  ‘Well, I suppose I cannot be too angry, it is indeed a large hole. I think it might be the pipe we have been seeing, this must be where it opens up to the Labirynth.’

  Kalistra paused for a moment, her hair stirring.

  ‘Actually, we appear to be heading right for it.’

  The gorgon pointed ahead of them, where the rows of identical buildings ended abruptly.

  ‘Figures.’ He muttered. ‘You see anything inside? Any sign of whatever keeps making all that noise?’

  ‘No, but I can see the bottom. It veers off in a few directions and there are traces of something inside.’

  ‘Can you tell what?’ He asked.

  ‘Maybe…’ Kalistra hesitated. ‘Ah, Ziz has moved away.’

  In the distance, Mickie could see it. The big bird twisted in the air and flapped upwards, heading further from them. Kalistra suddenly missed a step. As he had been watching for just this kind of thing, the branded man kept the gorgon steady as she righted herself.

  ‘By the blood, that has to be the strangest…’ She hardly seemed to notice the near fall, murmuring quietly under her breath. ‘This must be the section Ziz said was different.’

  ‘Well, don’t leave us out to dry. What do you see?’

  Miz-Mag asked after an extended stretch of silence. Before answering, Kalistra came back to herself. Rigid movements became fluid and a ripple passed through her serpentine hair. Mickie released her arm, curious as his partner was.

  ‘There is a section of the city that differs from the rest. It looks like it is partially in ruins, yet at the same time, it is still recognisable.’

  Kalistra eventually said, her attention fixed on the far distance.

  ‘You been taking notes from bird brain or something? Give us some detail.’

  Miz-Mag said dryly.

  ‘I know that seems rather vague. It is a difficult thing to describe, however. I think it best you see for yourselves, it is not far now.’

  Instead of rushing forward however, the group continued to follow their gaunt guide. After watching her collect and process flowers, they were all eager to see what she intended to do with that strange backpack.

  As it happened, the lost woman was headed right for the city’s centre. It took some time, but eventually Mickie was able to catch sight of the hole, appearing as a yawning stretch of emptiness in the distance.

  It was in the middle of circular open space, an area free of houses that was as broad as some of the larger caverns he had seen. The lost milled about in strange formations within, standing in neat rows facing a raised platform at the hole’s edge.

  ‘This place just keeps getting weirder and weirder.’

  Mickie muttered as they followed the flower collector out into the open area. She appeared to be heading in the direction of the raised platform.

  ‘I’ll say kid. I was hoping for something like the tower. Don’t see any elevators or stairs around here though.’

  Miz-Mag replied, eyeing the surrounding lost warily. The branded man started, he had become so engrossed by this strange new discovery that their actual reason for coming had slipped his mind. This place was supposed to be their ticket out of the Labyrinth.

  ‘The tower didn’t look like it would take us out, but it ended up changing to let us through. Maybe this place is the same.’

  Mickie said, but he was not entirely convinced.

  ‘I hope so kid. I don’t want to spend eternity wandering through a bunch of caves.’

  Miz-Mag said as Ziz thudded to the ground nearby, nearly squishing a group of shuffling lost. The primordial eyed them all with irritation.

  ‘About time. You are all very slow.’

  ‘Not all of us can fly, bud. Did you see anything else?’

  Mickie cut in before Miz-Mag got a chance to retort.

  ‘No.’ Ziz said, releasing a long, birdlike sigh. ‘Just lots of skinny people.’

  Their flower collecting lost led the group onto the platform above the yawning hole. It was a simple structure, just a solid, raised region of steel. A dais protruded from the side facing away from the hole. When Mickie noticed it he hurried forward, after all he had touched something similar when he activated the desert tower.

  This time however, the branded man’s luck did not hold. He reached out and touched the dais, remembering the feeling of disconnect, the sense of being watched by innumerable eyes. There was nothing. Mickie examined the waist high pillar of metal, searching for a hidden button or switch.

  Miz-Mag joined him, rummaging atop the structure's surface in search of anything that stood out. The little demon discovered seams in the top, a portion in the middle that looked as if it might slide aside. Yet they found no control whatsoever. With a sigh Mickie straightened, turning to see what Kalistra and Ziz were up to. He found the haggard face of their lost guide, waiting mere inches from his own.

  Mickie shouted and instantly his gun was in his hand. The gaunt woman made no move however, not even when he put his weapon between them. She simply stood there, as if waiting in a queue at a cafe. The branded man glanced behind himself, to where Miz-Mag was snickering at his back. He frowned in thought, and stepped aside.

  The woman immediately stepped forward, right up to the dais. She unslung the device from her back, and set it atop the small pillar. Miz-Mag cursed and dove away, narrowly avoiding getting squished flat. Mickie smirked at the little demon and received a rude gesture in response.

  The lost’s device made a series of clicks as it locked into place. A faint sound of sloshing liquid followed, before the machine gave a gentle chime and disconnected. The woman scooped it back up, and without a second glance, turned and began to walk away.

  ‘You saw that right?’

  Mickie called to Kalistra. The gorgon had been standing on the far end of the platform, leaning over the massive hole. She straightened at his question, turning away from the broad expanse of open air.

  ‘Yes. Now we know where they are taking the flower extract, if not what they are doing with it.’

  There was a light pressure on Mickie’s shoulder as Miz-Mag retook its usual perch.

  ‘Uh, she’s getting away again.’

  The little demon pointed to where the gaunt woman descended the stairs of the platform.

  ‘That’s alright.’ Mickie said. ‘Not sure where she’ll head now, but I think we’ve gotten everything we can from her.’

  ‘It would be nice to know what they are using the flowers for though.’

  Kalistra mused.

  ‘Ain’t that the truth.’ Miz-Mag muttered, and slumped against its partner’s neck. ‘Would also have been nice to find a way out of this hole.’

  Mickie watched their lost leave the platform and meander back towards the city. He let his gaze drift away from her, shifting out across the other ragged mortals occupying the open space. There were groups of them standing in orderly rows, a sight that drew Mickie’s attention.

  These lost had the same gaunt features and ragged clothing as all the others. What made them stand out was the tools they carried. He thought he saw what looked like a small pickaxe hanging from each belt and metal baskets worn as backpacks. They looked like they belonged in some kind of medieval mineshaft.

  Another thing he noted was that there were odd gaps in the rows of these lost. There was no discernable pattern to it, just a number of random spaces where one of the workers should have been standing. Neither Miz-Mag nor Kalistra could make anything of the strange distribution, so he let it go. Now that they were in the city, it was time to figure out what to do next.

  ‘So, thoughts on where we might find an exit?’ Mickie asked. ‘Something to get us out to the fifth circle.’

  ‘Ziz and I have not noticed anything in particular. Though that does not mean there is nothing out there. We have yet to do a thorough search of each building. Just because they are identical on the outside, does not mean the same will hold for their interiors.’

  Kalistra said, and Miz-Mag made a choked sound.

  ‘You want to search every house in this city? That’ll take us weeks!’

  The gorgon shrugged.

  ‘We are not short on time. I think it would be wise to conduct a proper search.’

  Mickie sighed, while he also did not want to spend an age digging about the old city, Kalistra did have a point.

  ‘She’s not wrong Mag. We’ve moved quickly up until now because there’s always something chasing our tails. It’d be good for once to take our time and properly investigate instead of letting the situation blow up in our faces.’

  The little demon seemed reluctant, but relented.

  ‘Ah, alright then. I think it's a bit odd you reckon’ taking time will stop things from blowing up in our faces, but sure, let’s give the slow way a go.’ Dramatic as always, Miz-Mag gave a long sigh before continuing. ‘If we’re going to shake this place down top to bottom, we’ll have to start somewhere. Seeing as it was your plan Kali, do you have any ideas?’

  They settled on a methodical, house by house method for searching. Before getting started however, the group decided to take a closer look at the damaged region Kalistra had noted earlier. Ziz took off into the air again as the gorgon led them around the giant hole in the ground. Mickie glanced over the side as they walked.

  With the large lights overhead, he could see the bottom. A curved base of dark steel with traces of something silver puddled on the floor. Strange, but not worth the risk heading into those depths would entail. He had not forgotten the sounds of something moving in throughout the pipes.

  They left the open city centre behind, weaving between shambling lost as they went. It was not long before Mickie saw the change, and he immediately understood why the gorgon and primordial had struggled to explain it. All of a sudden, partway up the street, the identical rows of buildings gave way to ruin.

  A straight, tidy line delineated the two, the smooth road giving way to cracked and warped steel. The nearest building was also a mess, folded half in upon itself like a crushed cardboard box. Further up the road Mickie could see green spilling out onto the street, coming from a block of dense foliage.

  ‘What in the nine?’

  Miz-Mag whispered, then seemed to notice something.

  ‘Hey kid, you see any of the lost?’

  Mickie frowned and glanced around. There were some of the gaunt figures nearby, but they were all behind him.

  ‘Did they abandon this place?’

  He asked Kalistra, and the gorgon shrugged.

  ‘Not entirely.’

  She nodded up the street, and Mickie turned to find a lone figure, stumbling their way down the broken road. They had a familiar device strapped to their back, one of the flower gatherers. As Mickie watched the lost tripped, their foot catching on a bent section of metal. The branded man winced at the resulting fall, but the distant figure did not even grunt in pain.

  He started forward when the lost failed to immediately rise, Kalistra at his side. As they got closer the ragged mortal finally stirred, pushing themself slowly upright. Mickie could see blood soaking into their threadbare clothing. Not unexpected, considering the state the street was in.

  The lost approached them, leaving a single, bloody print each time it stepped on its right foot. Mickie and Kalistra paused as it neared, only to be ignored as usual. Heedless of them or its own injuries, the flower collector continued on its way.

  ‘I have said this a lot, but that is not the typical behaviour of the lost. They do not normally ignore pain.’

  The gorgon murmured.

  ‘No need to convince me.’ Miz-Mag said. ‘They’re definitely freaky.’

  Mickie however, was frowning after his fellow mortal as they shuffled down the street. He recalled the ranks of mining lost he had seen in the central space, and the holes in their lineup. Turning to regard the empty ruins, he was about to speak when something caught his eye.

  Movement on a broken street corner. It took a moment, but Mickie saw it. Hunched low, six legs, a twisting metallic tail, and gleaming gemstone eyes. The man and the machine looked at one another for a long moment.

  ‘Guys.’ He hissed. ‘It’s here.’

  As if it could hear his voice, the machine fled. Mickie did not hesitate, he shot after it without a second thought. Around the street corner, deeper into the ruins. The lizard-bot was fast, but so was Mickie. He caught sight of it as it scrambled around another corner and darted after it. They ran through the door of a busted building, then out of its broken back wall into the neighbouring structure. Mickie burst out into the next street and cast about for the machine.

  ‘Over there kid!’

  Miz-Mag pointed and the branded man caught a glimpse of a metal tail disappearing around a corner. He ran down the street, turned after the sneaky robot, and came to a sudden, skidding halt. Before him the road was entirely blocked by a fallen building, the crushed metal too mangled for a person to squeeze through. Mickie spun around, breathing hard and glaring into every space the lizard might have slunk into. He found nothing.

  ‘You saw it?’

  Kalistra asked, skidding around the corner as Mickie shouted out a curse.

  ‘Yeah, but it got away again.’

  Miz-Mag replied, squinting into the wreckage of the old building.

  ‘No matter where we go.’

  Mickie muttered bitterly. He paced back and forth, then paused. On the street corner, right beside where he stood, sat a square of greenspace. Unlike the others in the ruined section, it was not spilling beyond the confines of its block. Still overgrown, but in a way that seemed almost intentional.

  Branches of trees curled and turned, creating strange shapes and spirals. Shrubs seemed to have been trimmed to curve and flow around one another to create colourful patterns. An oddly familiar thorny bush in one corner was twisted upon itself, folding upwards until it blossomed like a flower.

  Strangest of all however, was that at the centre of it all, sitting upon a weathered park bench, was a single, haggard lost. Mickie looked at the lone figure, and was startled when the figure looked back. It was a man, dark skinned with wide eyes that held a manic gleam.

  ‘By the blood, look at that one.’

  Miz-Mag murmured, seeing the lost at the same moment Mickie had.

  ‘What is… oh.’

  Kalistra came to a halt beside the branded man, startled by the strange garden and its occupant. The lost’s mouth began to move, as if to speak. Only, if the man was saying anything at all, it was too quiet for them to hear.

  The lizard machine forgotten for the moment, Mickie took a slow step forward, eyes on the gaunt mortal. Kalistra followed closely behind as he stepped into the green space, her hair fanned out in all directions.

  ‘These plants, their shapes, they remind me of something.’ The gorgon spoke in hardly more than a whisper. ‘It’s not perfect, but Mickie, I think they are mimicking…’

  ‘Runes.’

  The branded man finished, and pointed. To one side, just off the garden path, the loamy soil appeared to be almost glowing. Only, it was not the soil, but something else, something just beneath it. Kalistra squatted down and brushed aside a thin layer of dirt. Row upon row of runic script became visible, tiny characters that flowed in shapes and lines as twisted as the garden around them.

  ‘In all the abyss.’

  Kalistra said, breathless.

  ‘This is…’

  ‘The rent cannot be repaired.’

  A raspy voice came from right beside Mickie. Both he and Miz-Mag started, spinning to find a husk of a man in ragged cloth.

  ‘The cycle fails.’

  The lost said, having somehow snuck up on them. Kalistra slowly rose from the ground, but did not interrupt. None of them had heard one of the ragged mortals speak before.

  ‘The beast must be fed. The beast cannot be fed. The strings direct. The strings about my neck. One which sings and one which shapes. They are gone but I cannot breathe, I cannot see, I cannot…’

  His voice grew higher as he spoke, before trailing off. The lost man’s head fell to his chest for a moment, before snapping back up with a gasp.

  ‘The forge must not wake. The beast must be fed. We are the skin upon the bones and how we itch.’

  The man staggered backwards, arms flying to the sides of his head, pulling at long, matted hair.

  ‘And the words. Stop the words. Always the words. Oh, oh, oh…’

  The lost wailed, reaching a fever pitch. He held the final note, the sound draggin like nails on a chalkboard. Then the man collapsed into the grass, going still as a statue.

  ‘What in all nine stinkin’ circles, was that?’

  Miz-Mag asked after an extended silence. Neither Mickie or Kalistra had an answer for the little demon. None of them knew what to make of what they had just heard, or the limp lost who had delivered the speech.

  ‘Is he even still alive?’

  The demon muttered, leaping from Mickie’s shoulder to the body of the ragged man. It listened for breath then delivered a few quick jabs to the lost’s neck. They elicited no response.

  ‘Well, he ain’t dead at least, which I suppose makes sense. Never heard of anyone dying from talking before.’

  A shadow flickered overhead and something heavy landed on the remnants of a nearby building.

  ‘Everyone! Something is happening!’

  Ziz projected its voice loudly, extending its long neck towards them. The primordial hesitated when it saw them standing beside the collapsed man.

  ‘What is happening?’

  Kalistra asked before it could say anything else. The young avian shook itself, a ripple passing through its feathers.

  ‘The lost, it’s the lost, they’re gathering in the middle. I saw them when…’

  Anything else Ziz might have said was cut off as a sudden, reverberating bell sounded from somewhere out of sight. It vibrated through the ground, clacking Mickie’s teeth and rattling his bones. Then, as if responding to some unknown challenge, there came an almighty roar.