Miss T.'s body lay in the ash and dirt. The Myth Eater had turned to stone—the enemy they were all so frightened of. The Winter Warden hesitated only momentarily before rushing to her side and scooping her in his arms.

  What has she done? He thought to himself. Staring down, her hair was strewn across her face, her green eyes opened and relaxed, and her lips were pulled tight in a faint smile. Mister D. approached next, worry and concern etched across his face.

  "I've lived a long time, but I've never seen a Myth Eater defeated." He glanced back at the stone body and shivered, quickly looking away. "Let's get back inside and hope that there was only one headed this way."

  They all walked quickly back inside and waited with bated breath.

  "Will she make it?" asked the Boy with the Red Violin, gripping his violin case to his chest.

  "Bastion, I need you by my side," Mister D. called out.

  Bastion, the clockwork boy, quickly ran over and stood next to an empty table.

  "Lay her down here," he said, clearing everything off the table. The Winter Warden gingerly laid Miss T. down. Moving in slowly, he placed his forehead against hers, focusing every ounce of thought and will, leaving no space between them.

  Live. Please live. Whatever price you have to pay, let me pay it. Just please live. The Winter Warden pleaded in his mind, hoping she could hear his thoughts.

  "I'll do my best to buy us some time," Mister D. said, his eyes already black, his coat no longer a beautiful gray but a rich, feathered black suit. "I need you to trust me and my son. I won't take her unless it's absolutely time."

  Finally breaking away from Miss T., the Winter Warden looked at Mister D. His eyes glowed a cold light blue. With a single nod, he stepped aside. Only Bliss caught the Summer Warden holding the pommel of his blade during the exchange. She wasn’t sure whose side she'd take if a fight broke out, but the idea of it amused her. She smiled gently, leaned back into her chair, and addressed her boy.

  "She has broken one of the Five Rules. The punishment is taking hold of her soul," Bliss said. The boy visibly began to shake. "There is rot in her soul, clutching and crawling up every inch of her. Next will come the withering of her mind, so that no other words can be spoken. Finally, her body. This punishment is unique to each person. I’m not sure what will happen to her, but when the time comes, avert your eyes. Until then, understand and watch."

  The whispered voice of Bliss came only from the boy's shadow, her tone final, not a suggestion.

  "Not helping, wench," Mister D. quietly whispered under his breath. Bastion's hands, raised over Miss T., began to hum, then drum, then form closed fists. Spooling out his fingers, he stretched them across her body, hovering only inches away, emitting a soft light.

  "She's deteriorating faster than expected. I’ll try to help slow down the effects, but this is far beyond me, Father," Bastion said.

  Placing a reassuring hand on his son, Mister D. replied, "Do what you can, son."

  With a quick nod, Bastion poured his whole focus into keeping Miss T. alive. The stone in his center began to glow brightly, steam billowing out from between his joints, and the light at the end of his fingers intensified, cocooning her in a gentle glow.

  "Well, isn’t this a shit show?"

  All eyes whipped to the front door as a man dressed in a dark maroon suit and black shirt walked in.

  "You left the front door open? That’s pretty risky. You might just let anyone in." His face had no skin or muscle—he was a bone man. Where his eyes should have been, there was only a black, empty backdrop with two burning lights inside, one green and one yellow.

  Shutting the door behind him, he clicked his tongue as if berating a child.

  "Tsk, tsk, tsk! Wow, you really let this place go. What, you leavin’ the ashen black door open?" he said, emphasizing the last words in mock severity. "This place has lost most of its character, its essence of self, its ‘joie de vivre.’ But I’m sure a fresh coat of paint will shape that right up." Sarcasm oozed off every word. "Then you let y’all host… fight a Myth Eater… alone? Tsk, tsk. Y’all have really sunk low. Without someone to remind you of the basics, who will keep you in line?"

  Taking a protective stance in front of Bastion, Mister D. spoke first. "Bastion, my boy, don’t stop. Put your full focus on her, okay?"

  Bastion hesitated, then hissed a one-word reply: "Understood." He quickly snapped back his focus.

  "Tell me, thief," Mister D. hissed the last word. "What hole did you slither out of that brought you here?"

  The Bone Man’s coal-flame eyes locked onto Mister D. "Hush, child. I’ve outlived three of your stations, and I will outlive you, sure as the day is long. You’re still playing pretend in your mother’s shoes. Pitiful." His words billowed from his mouth like a thick, black miasma, dispersing just before hitting the floor.

  "He may not garner your respect, but I am the oldest here, and I WILL hold you to tradition. A proper introduction is in order," Bliss said.

  The Bone Man stared at Mister D. for a few more moments before slowly turning his head and bowing at the hips to Bliss. "My apologies, fallen goddess. I should show more respect to a group of has-beens who have spent too much time trying to establish a ‘true space.’" He gestured to the entire space. "You’ve done such a good job," he added sarcastically.

  Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

  The tension in the room grew palpable.

  "I think you should shut up or help us, stranger," Benjamin said, irritation filling his voice.

  "Don’t let him provoke you,” the Night Beetle warned. “That’s how he gains his power—through debauchery, deception, and dissent. Only the truth will counteract his choking words.”

  The Bone Man placed his hands where his heart should be. "You wound me. Gasp, how will I ever recover?"

  It was only when the Winter and Summer Wardens took a threatening step toward him that he stopped advancing. He froze for a moment, then took a step back. "Hello, boys. Long time no see," he said, pressing his hands up in a calming gesture.

  "Not in the mood for any of your jokes or quips,” said the Summer Warden. “Tell us your name and who you are properly, or..." His words trailed off, eyes sliding over toward the Winter Warden. "My counterpart and I would love nothing more than to vent some frustration." The Winter Warden's sword was already out, its edge not yet pointed at the Bone Man, but ready. The Winter Warden let out a snarled, grunted exhale.

  "Wow, tough crowd. Okay, I’ll play ball, but not because you told me to, but because I want to," the Bone Man said. The room collectively rolled its eyes.

  "I am called many names—King of Lies, God-Eater, and my personal favorite: ‘Slayer of the Last Dragon,’” he began. “But this place requires truth, and the truth is: I sold my true name long ago, just like the rest of you."

  Leaning back as though he was a pastor at a church about to deliver a grand point, he exclaimed, "I am a universal truth. I am the Ivory Throne. I am just an honest bag of bones." Leaning forward as if to share a secret, he added, "You can call me Bones today. Just Bones will do."

  "Hey, you yuck, where’s your mortal companion? Even the creepy lady has a kid, which is still not okay in my book. If it were up to me, I’d take him away right now," Benjamin said.

  Benjamin didn’t notice, but the boy with the violin flicked his eyes over to him and back. The movement was infinitesimal, but hope in the presence of his lady was costly. Now was not the time to dream with his second mind.

  "Twice," Bones said in a quiet voice. "Twice now, you’ve disrespected me without any provocation. A third time, and I will take your breath, mortal man. Now, on your knees."

  As he spoke, Benjamin began to choke. Crouching down to his knees, he wheezed, his breath quickly returning but only while he remained on his knees. The Night Beetle only stared, but her eyes became brighter.

  "Benjie’s got a point," Mister D. said, taking another threatening step toward Bones. "You flaunt yourself like a peacock to us and yet fail your basic common law."

  "Fail? No, I excel. Unimpeded and undistracted." Then, gesturing to the room, Bones said, "However, y’all keep collecting glaring weaknesses. Look at them. They are reflections of each of your insecurities."

  At that, the immortals all faltered.

  "I mean, really, you can’t tell me none of all y’all knew?" Bones said, glancing across the gray structure. "Mortal companions are to help you remember, but they can also fulfill a second agenda. Take Mister D., for example. In his rapidly growing loneliness, he ‘chose’ to take a companion who could never truly die. Honestly, a bit on the nose. The Wardens,” he continued, “taking only animals as theirs, are so afraid of the judgment of others that they pick creatures that can’t speak."

  "And probably worst of all," he nodded at Bliss and the Night Beetle, "humans." He spoke with a hiss at the end, the sound like nails hitting a chalkboard. "A pilot with all the fiery emotions you lack, Beetle. And Bliss, a boy whose innocence remains despite his circumstances. You could never understand, so you deem to control."

  “And then there’s that… thing.” Bones leered at LunaMontis. “I don’t really know what that is. Give me five minutes, though, and I’ll find a way to make fun of you.”

  LunaMontis stared, unamused and unwilling to engage with this immortal of dissension. They continued to drink their coffee while Aurum flew up to the ramparts to preen.

  The smoke that leaked from Bone’s mouth was now much thicker, beginning to leech the last bit of life from the place. Slowly scanning each face and locking eyes with them, Bones finally settled on Miss T.'s unmoving form.

  "You all bore me. I couldn’t care less about this place and about all of you, but she’s earned my respect."

  Walking over to Bastion, Bones stretched out a hand toward Miss T., only to be stopped by both the Winter Warden and Mister D.

  "Do you think you can just talk nasty to us and not get the smackdown of your life? We wouldn’t be caught dead letting you anywhere near her," Mister D. said. The Winter Warden nodded in agreement.

  Bones made a cheek sucking sound, then, presuming command, snarked at them. "Damn shame, that, since I’m the only one who can save her!”

  "Bullshit. You’re the King of Lies,” Mister D. retorted. “You’re probably going to finish the job once you’re close enough. She’s a truth speaker, and you, well, mate, you’re a right piece of shite.”

  "She lied about a whispered truth," Bones said, his eyes never leaving her body, but he directed his words pointedly at Mister D. "You are correct, mate," he emphasized the last word, almost spat. "I am the King of Lies. She stepped into my domain and called me to her. Honestly, that’s how I found y’all. And since I’m the King of Lies, as ya kindly acknowledged, I have the authority that truly matters right now."

  Finally, his eyes locked with Mister D. "I can take it from her. I can take the lie and swallow it whole."

  The room stood alert—heavy.

  "But to do so could split her very being wide open,” Bliss interjected. “You would be essentially cutting out the infected portion, leaving her broken into too many pieces to get the one." Bliss was never really one to help but to cause a fight, and she was getting bored and wanted to stir the pot.

  The Winter Warden squared his shoulders, placed a hand on Bone’s own shoulder, and stared down menacingly. This was a warning that he wasn’t completely convinced. Grabbing the Winter Warden's arm with his pointer finger and thumb, Bones responded.

  "Which is why, Bliss, I intend to replace it with a different lie—well… a lie… of sorts," Bones purred, giving a menacing, yet coy smile.

  "Enough!" the words shot out like a shockwave from the Night Beetle. "No more games, Bones. Speak plainly."

  Bones, looking offended, placed the back of his hand on the crest of his bone-white forehead. "Truly, there is no love for the arts these days." Breathing out heavily, he replied. "Fine. My plan is to simultaneously remove the lie from our darling little Miss T. and give her a story about a lie. That way, she can still wrestle with nature in the context of its truth, freeing her from the curse that follows the whispers. This place holds some truth, and a Myth Eater devours nobody. We all walk away happy."

  The pits of fire Bones had for eyes glared up at the Winter Warden. "I know you understand what’s at stake here if we lose her seat,” Bones continued. “You need me, and to be honest, I need you… all… I need all y’all.” Bones bobbed his head around as he confided in the group.

  Leaning in, the Winter Warden leveled his eyes with Bones. For a long moment, he stared, then withdrew, staggering away to the far side of the table, tension tight in his shoulders.

  Quickly moving to Miss T.'s side, Bones whispered, "It just has to be you, doesn’t it?" Hovering his hand over her chest, where her heart was, he leaned his bone-white face over hers. "Stay alive, my counterpart. I’m here,” he whispered. Then, drawing open his jaw, the tormented black smoke billowed like a cloud waterfalling out of his mouth.