The morning was warm. Thick, swirling clouds filled the morning sky. The Cradle had become even more agitated since I’d last seen it at night, its orange glow shining so violently that the sunrise paled in comparison. It was the day before Solstice. But more importantly, today was the day.

  Today, we’d be going inside the Cradle.

  The haunting images from yesterday still lingered in my head. The words tugged at my consciousness. It was hard to fathom that thesy weren’t merely born from Alicia’s imagination. No, she had really seen these things inside the Cradle. Perhaps they were waiting in the darkness there, visions of apocalypse, twisted reflections of who we were. Again, I pushed the thoughts away, filled them with the light and warmth I knew from Polaris.

  Emily was waiting to go down with me. She’d cleaned up since yesterday, her pink hair tied back as well as it could be, her uniform dry and free of debris, all as expected. Despite the long trek here, she must have spent hours and hours more last night fixing it up. Still, she had an energy and cheerful demeanour about her, and I tried to muster up the same. She gave me a smile. “Ready?”

  “Of course.”

  “Perfect.” She chuckled. In one hand, she was gripping the needles of her Complement, polished to a shine. In the other, she held a rolled up sheet of paper, bound by a string. The map.

  Uncle Saul placed his hands on our shoulders. “Okay. Remain calm no matter what happens. Be careful. The Cradle will do everything it can to make you stray, to drive you off the path. You must disregard it. You must block it out. The first lock is relatively close to the entrance. Let’s make this quick, okay?”

  “Understood,” we replied in unison. My eyes drifted to our partners. Jake sat quietly beside Alicia, playing with a clump of snow between his fingers. Alicia’s eyes were glued to the ground, her Complement circling them both in lazy circles.

  “You okay?” I asked her.

  She looked up for a moment, smiling weakly. “Yeah. Don’t worry. I’m just a bit nervous. Guess that’s why it’s Emily going in with you. And not me.”

  “Nervous for me? You don’t need to be afraid, Alicia. Nothing’s going to happen.”

  “Thanks,”

  “Benjamin, are you ready?” said Uncle Saul. Benjamin?

  “Yes.” The soldier sided up behind us, his ashy blue-grey coat blowing in the wind. He looked over the two of us before speaking. “Let’s get this over with, alright? You won’t need to worry about me. I’m not afraid of what’s inside.”

  “You should be,” I mouthed. I could barely believe it. Of all the people who could possible come with us, it was him?

  “I look forward to working with you, Benjamin,” said Emily, giving a polite bow and offering her hand.

  He hesitated for a moment before shaking her hand. “Let’s just go in,” he said. “I’m just following orders.” He didn’t even acknowledge my presence. That was fine with me. Better than dealing with the insubordination he’d shown a few nights before.

  My uncle held up the key before the Cradle. Waves of light danced upon its smooth surface before it unfolded like a flower, revealing the inky depths within. The crowd around us stepped back, but I stepped forward. The darkness drew my eyes. I needed to go inside. I had to. But this time, I didn’t need to fight that attraction. I simply let it lead me forward.

  And Benjamin followed, muttering something under his breath.

  The slope descended ever onward into the darkness. I led the way, putting one boot in front of the other, always careful not to lose my footing as Alicia and Jake had. After just a few steps, the sunlight faded away, and soon we were descending further with only the light that I could muster. Even that rapidly faded as we continued our descent, and by the time we reached the bottom, I felt my light being devoured by the still air.

  My feet sank into the ground. It was soft, shifting beneath my feet. Like sand, but not sand. The ground was made of scales. Thousands upon thousands of scales covered the ground as far as the eye could see. With each footstep, hundreds of scales skittered out of the way, thousands of little legs running across the unmoving husks of their counterparts. Were they dead? Something deep in my gut told me that they weren’t. They were asleep.

  Although my light was swallowed up by the darkness, it hardly seemed to matter. Instead, a dull, glow shone from everywhere and nowhere at once. I could just make out the outlines of the shapes that towered above us, monolithic pillars that rose from the ground and disappeared into the shadows above. Evenly spaced about two meters apart, they seemed to stretch on and on forever. Their surface was rough to the touch, sparkling under the faint light. They were made of scales too. Everything here was made of scales. My skin crawled. I pushed the thought away.

  Emily unrolled the map. It was surprisingly easy to read in the dim light, the silver paint catching the ambient glow and nearly glowing. Orienting the map against the slope behind us, the needles of Emily’s Complement flew into position, gleaming silver pointing the way forward. “This way.”

  We started in silence, for a few blissful moments before Benjamin interrupted it.

  “What is this place?” he asked, “It’s so...”

  “You should’ve probably found out before coming inside with us,” I said.

  “This is the Cradle,” said Emily. “The heart of the Corruption. The place where the gift of Polaris was corrupted by Antares and turned into... all of this, and all of that we see above.” She gestured around at the empty vault around us.

  “I’ve heard that story before. Is that really what you believe?” The nerve of this guy. Who did he think he was? “Your instructors aren’t here, you know. You could tell me what you really think.”

  “It is,” said Emily. “It is what I really think.”

  “Do you have a better answer?” I asked.

  “Look around you. How can this place be so much larger on the inside? The thing clearly doesn’t have room for this. It must be some sort of... trickery. An illusion. Orentican eyes. Or something like that. How could this possibly be a real place? And how could it be responsible for everything you’ve seen outside?”

  “Is it so hard to believe what you see with your own eyes?” asked Emily. “This is real, soldier. That’s the truth. See the scales beneath our feet? Those above the ground are the same. You know this. Then what else could you believe?”

  “That’s exactly it. I can’t believe what I see with my own eyes. Eyes can be tricked,” he said. How simple he saw this. How wrong he was. “And I don’t suppose you have a real explanation. Only more of the same superstitions that your instructors are constantly going on about. I could barely get through that horrible briefing they gave me. Stay on the path. Watch out for Antares. Antares this, Antares that. But look, this place is empty. Where are all those dangers? Or could it be that this isn’t all it’s hyped up to be? Just a waste of time for your Patron to send you on to keep you—”

  “Don’t tempt fate,” said Emily. “Benjamin, you don’t need to accept the truth. But if you can’t, at least acknowledge the danger of this place. There are many shapes that Antares’ scales can take; do not be deceived by them. Our partners have witnessed this; we can only hope that ours will be easier to overcome. I ask you to accept our authority at least in here. Please, stay on the route and do not stray from it.”

  “I’ll do what’s right. I’m not here to let children like you order me around. And I’m not just going to give into the fear that seems to infect everyone as soon as anyone so much as mentions this place.” He continued onward. “But I’ll keep what you’ve said in mind. Even if this place is real, I do wonder what cruel tricks this place could possibly play on me.”

  “This place?” said Emily. “More than you could imagine. Benjamin, I don’t know how you’ve lived your life so far, but there are truly unbelievable places in this world. And you’ve just entered one.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that.”

  We marched. Our boots crunched in the scaly ground as we wound between the pillars following the chosen route. As the ramp behind us vanished into the darkness, the full scale of the Cradle unfolded. The columns were all identical and evenly spaced, giving the eerie impression that we weren’t moving at all. Emily marked our route carefully, tallying our steps as we went, her needles swivelling like a compass to point us as the map directed. Without her tracking, progress would have been impossible.

  There was one thing that did seem to be changing as we continued on our path. The ground shifted more and more beneath our feet, scales agitated by our presence. They were waking up. A dull hum permeated the air, like the buzz of the forest, but lower pitched, sometimes fading to the periphery of my perception only to rebound with an intensity that shook my bones. There was no obvious danger in the unstable ground. Only a feeling of unease. But that feeling was more than enough.

  “Help!” A voice cried out from far off in the distance. It was soft, barely discernible, but the sudden noise cut through the air nonetheless. Benjamin immediately swerved to face the sound, straining his eyes to try to see its source.

  “Left,” said Emily, turning sharply in place.

  I followed suit, but Benjamin nearly stepped off the route. I grabbed his sleeve and yanked it in the correct direction. “Focus.”

  “Didn’t you hear that?” he asked.

  “Of course I heard it. But We can’t afford to be distracted. Keep marching.”

  “What do you mean, distracted? That’s—”

  “Keep. Marching.” I sensed his motion before he even started, gripping his sleeve to stop him before he had the chance to ruin everything. “Stop. Don’t move.” I sighed. It seemed every hint of his confidence had left as soon as this voice had called out. “Whatever happened to not being afraid, Benjamin? To not believing in those ‘silly superstitions?’”

  “Help!” The voice seemed closer.

  He pulled his arm out of my grip. “You don’t understand. I need to go there. Now. I know what you say, what you believe, but it’s wrong. That voice is... I need to check it out. I need to find him—”

  “You don’t.” Emily’s silver eyes were glowing nearly white as she slowly walked towards him. “Don’t be afraid, Benjamin. I understand the things you hear are frightening, but you must not falter. We are in a dangerous place. Be strong.” She put a hand on his shoulder. “I understand this is distressing. The voice is one that you recognize. But don’t be deceived. The voice is coming from the Corruption. From Antares. Come on. Trust me at least this much. I told you that this a powerful place. Do you believe it now?”

  “I... But if it is, then that voice must be—”

  “It doesn’t matter. Whatever you see or hear is false. Whether this place is real or not, no? So ignoring it. It’s for the best.”

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  Her words seemed to convince him, and, taking a deep breath, he continued on the trail. Emily walked beside me. “You’re more patient than I would’ve been,” I whispered.

  “Patience is expected of us, Iris. We are Polaris’s servants.”

  She was right, of course. But it was still hard to do. I bit my lip as we continued. We kept walking through the unending space, following the path in silence. The voice calling for help soon faded, or was drowned out by the dull buzzing that permeated the air.

  Finally, we arrived at our destination. The first lock was much as expected, a small sphere, almost a recreation of the Cradle in miniature, sitting on an ornate pedestal that rose up from the scales below. It reminded me of the models we had practised on back home, though this was clearly more... alive. Its surface glowed with moving patterns, masking the mechanism inside. But not for long.

  “You’ve been told to watch us, right, Benjamin?” said Emily. “Then watch.”

  “Yes, I’ve orders to watch,” He said, though he didn’t seem to be paying much attention to us. His voice already seemed distant and dreamlike. Instead, it was our surroundings that he scrutinized, as if there was something waiting for us in the shadows. There wasn’t, of course, at least not anything that could lay a hand on us.

  Emily’s eyes met mine as we approached the lock. She put her hands around it, using her telekinetic powers to feel out the mechanism within. It only took her a few moments. “Come closer,” she said, guiding my hand to the top. “Heat please.”

  The surface was cold to the touch. I kept my hand pressed against the freezing surface, taking deep breaths to focus my power. Unlike on the battlefield, these locks required precise control. I felt the threads of flame snaking through my veins toward my fingertips. I tensed my muscles, holding back the flames, letting a thin but steady stream of warmth flow into the device. “Tell me when,” I said.

  “Keep going.” Emily’s hands were fixed on both sides of the lock, fingers quivering as they doubtless manipulated the delicate gears and levers within. I heard a few soft clicking sounds, followed by the tapping of marbles being released into the machine’s depths.

  The surface light flickered, then died, glow fading to reveal the glassy surface and the complicated machine within. Marbles clicked and whirred along their tracks, spinning turbines and reaching weighted locks, keeping the mechanism live. At the centre of the sphere, there was a brass funnel, a black pit descending into the depths of the cradle, right through the pedestal. When the marbles fell in, they’d tumble down into the depths of the machine, the great lock that held the treasure in place.

  It was almost like a game.

  “Do you ever wonder why the lock is... the lock?” I asked. “It’s almost tailor-made for us to open it.”

  Emily chuckled. “Well, they say Altair himself designed these for his sister. A lock so devious none would be able to solve it. At least, not without going mad from the illusions first.”

  As if in response, the voice resumed its calling. “Help! Is anyone there?” Emily and I ignored it, focused on moving the little arms and tracks to get the marbles into the funnel. But from the corner of my eye, I noticed Benjamin grow alert. He turned to face the source of the voice, staring out into the darkness.

  “Stay alert,” I warned. Now that the surface was transparent, it was much easier to fiddle with the mechanism. Emily and I both knew what to do, and so we moved wordlessly, shifting the marbles onto tracks that slid down into the funnel. Into the darkness.

  The voice grew louder. Closer. “Help me, Benjamin,” it called. The soldier grew more agitated, his boots crunching in the scales as he paced feverishly around us. I tried my best to ignore him. We were about halfway there. The mechanism was beginning to unravel, clockwork pieces grinding to a halt as we knocked the bearings out of the system one by one.

  “Done,” Emily exclaimed. A wave of relief washed over us. The lock clicked, everything within returning to rest as the last few marbles swirled into the funnel and disappeared into the pit, their bouncing within the brass pipe making a chorus of echoes that quickly faded away to heavy silence.

  Benjamin broke the quiet. “He’s just over there.” He pointed to a figure lying a few metres off, among the scales. Its body sprawled painfully, bloody, battered, limbs bent in awkward, unnatural gait. It crawled along the ground. It looked human.

  “You think you recognize him,” said Emily. “But this is not... whoever he is to you. Or was.”

  “So you say,” he whispered. “But if this place is real... perhaps he is too. Couldn’t that be the case?”

  “It’s not,” said Emily.

  He hesitated for a moment, but ultimately agreed. Perhaps it had been the sharp certainty in Emily’s voice, conveying the truth behind her words. Or perhaps the soldier was just feeling addled from the sights. We started on the long path back, turning our backs to the pitiful figure that writhed on the ground. It would not distract us. This would be a success.

  “Help me, Benjamin. I can’t last much longer.” Its voice was hoarse. Broken. I locked eyes with Emily. We both knew what was going to happen. But neither of us were fast enough to stop him from sprinting to the fallen soldier, scattering the scales in his wake. As he crossed between the giant square pillars, the ground erupted from beneath his feet. The walls shifted, sheets of scales roiling and crashing in great waves that separated the three of us.

  “Emily? Emily!” I called, but my voice was muffled by the storm of scales around us. I lost my footing on the unstable terrain and tumbled to the ground.

  The scales were waking up.

  The ground beneath me sloped down, a yawning pit opening to swallow me up. The sound of falling scales filled my ears, growing from the tinkling of chimes to a thunderous roar as they tumbled ever more quickly down into the darkness. I scrambled to find any grip on the falling ground, but the scales simply slipped beneath my fingers. I tumbled down into the abyss, curling into a ball to brace myself for whatever awaited at the bottom.

  I fell in the darkness. Scales buffeted my uniform and scraped against my skin. I didn’t open my eyes for fear of what I might see in the turmoil. But as quickly as it started, it stopped. The scales hit something solid, the bottom of this hellish sandpit, and quickly piled up to cushion my fall. And when I finally opened my eyes, I was face to face with...

  It was Alicia.

  She stood before me, silver eyes and indigo hair and sky-blue uniform that were all so familiar to me. She smiled, reaching out a hand to help me up. But of course, it couldn’t be her. Right?

  “Alicia?” I got to my feet. Behind her lay the pile of scales, gently sloping upward. On all other sides, the scales stayed rigid, moulded into glimmering walls of sand that towered far above to where we had been walking just moments ago. There was no way to go but forward. No way to go but through her. “Alicia?”

  “What’s up?” my partner replied.

  “You’re not... inside the Cradle, right?”

  “Yes I am,” said the Alicia standing before me.

  “Of course I’m not, Iris. Why would I be inside?” I trusted the voice in my head far more than the one before me. This had to be an illusion. Still, I had to admit, it was nearly indistinguishable. How did this place know what to create?

  “Iris, don’t listen to her,” it said. “This place is playing tricks on your mind. It’s mimicking her voice in your head.” This Alicia closed the distance between us, placing its hand on my shoulder.

  I brushed it away. “Leave me. You’re not Alicia.”

  “I am,” it said. “What are you talking about? It’s me. The real Alicia. Don’t you see? Antares sent a false Alicia up out of here, to trick you. Even now, she’s fooling everyone. Even you. I thought you’d notice. I can’t believe you don’t recognize your own partner.” It reached its hand for mine, but I stepped back before it could get its claws on me.

  “Don’t touch me!”

  “Are you okay, Iris?”

  “Yeah. I’m fine. There’s just a little illusion.” Of course this story was a fabrication. If Alicia had really been trapped in here, she’d have been far more excited to see me, far more teary-eyed and touchy. She’d have never approached me with such a cold demeanour. Its feeble attempt to throw me off had only strengthened my conviction. No trick of Antares would be fooling me today.

  I took a deep breath, letting the heat well up in my chest before exploding in a flurry of blows. The puppet burned away before me, blackened patches of scales falling away in chunks. The false Alicia screamed, but already the illusion was breaking. Its voice didn’t match my partner’s in the slightest, its human veneer melting away to reveal its true form, a writhing mass of scales, their bodies clambering over each to try and maintain the semblance of a human body. Charred to ashes, they finally collapsed, the remaining live scales scattering underfoot.

  Having settled down, for now, the slope back up was manageable. I made my slow ascent, step by step, careful not to slip and tumble all the way back down again. Several times, I very nearly did just that. But soon enough, I reached the top and surveyed my surroundings.

  The interior was as vast and empty as it had been before. Even the pit of scales, where I’d been just moments ago, was rapidly closing up, scales filling in the gap back up to the surface level. For a second, I contemplated trying to shine my light, before remembering that that was nearly useless here. “Emily!” I called first. Then, with no reply, “Benjamin!”

  “There you are.” The voice was Emily’s.

  But was it really her? It was as if she’d appeared out of thin air. I scanned her body carefully for any discrepancy, any hint of warmth in her cold, silver eyes, or any blemish on her neatly fitted uniform. “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Can you stop staring, please?”

  “Sorry.” I hadn’t realized. “I’m just making sure you’re not another illusion.”

  “Another?” She raised an eyebrow, but didn’t pursue the topic further. “Whatever. You know, you really scared me back there. I’m glad you’re safe.”

  “You’re acting awfully calm, given what happened.”

  “Iris, staying calm is the only thing we can do, right?”

  “Right,” I said. “What about Benjamin?”

  “What about me?” Since when had he been standing behind me? The soldier stood gripping his rifle tightly. His breaths were ragged. His posture was very poor. He’d been so irresponsible. I wanted to strangle him on the spot, to slam him against the scales and smother him beneath them. But I managed to compose myself, taking a deep breath, steadying my shaking hands and holding them close to my side.

  Emily pursed her lips. “Iris? What’s wrong?”

  “You!” I glared at him. “How could you run off the trail like that? Do you not care at all for your own safety? For the sake of everyone here below and everyone there above? That was incredibly reckless. You’re extremely lucky to still be breathing.”

  Rather than apologize, he looked away. “I get it,” he whispered. “I thought... never mind.”

  I wanted to say more, but Emily put her hand on my shoulder. “Not now,” she said. She was right. His recklessness had put us in danger, but there was no need to agitate him further. No need to risk another incident. At least the lock had been broken. At least we’d made some progress. Emily’s Complement flew into the air, the needles leading the way back toward the entrance.

  We walked back in silence.