Roy Harper ducked beneath the low-hanging pipe, following his new boss through the maze of sewers beneath Grim Aegis. Lines of white stone gave just enough light to the tunnels that he couldn't see through the shadows directly above him. The wastewater of the levels above ran to the side and burned Roy's nose with each breath.

His new boss was nothing like his brother, a shorter man with bone-white skin wearing a pinstripe suit and smoking a cigarette. However, it wasn't like Roy had much choice. With his brother dead at the hands of some outlaws, it was hard to find work for a former slaver.

"You playing it cool back there, Harper?"

"No, sir," Roy responded quickly.

"Good, there's a difference between playing it cool and keeping it cool. Those who don't understand it die an early death, you hear?"

Roy didn't understand the difference at all. He just knew what a Finger could do to him if he responded the wrong way. Out of the ten applicants to join the operation, he was the only one who had survived.

"Mind the webs." His boss ducked beneath a long, thick line of white web, its outline barely visible in the long sewer hallway.

The webs were too large for a spider to make. Each thread was easily as thick as one of Roy's fingers, and he didn't think he could cut through them, even with a sword. However, he didn't dare touch them to find out.

"What are the webs all for, Mister Deadman?" Roy asked as he crouched down through the line of webs.

Snap. Snap.

"What they're for is the reason we're down here." Mister Deadman snapped his fingers before forcing them into his pockets. "Sorry, that's a habit I need to break while we're down here. We don't need anyone to hear it and investigate. That would be uncool."

Roy could say the same thing about them talking but also needed answers. He knew as much about the job as Mister Deadman had revealed during recruitment. All he knew was that it was easy and paid well, which were the two things he needed now that his and his brother's business had gone other.

He should have learned more about the trade before William died. However, how was he supposed to know that kidnapping 'Thorn Queen' Leah would end up with 'Sword Saint' Sayed skewering his brother dead? It wasn't his fault.

"Now, here we come to the main room. Keep your head down, you hear?"

They stepped away from the sewer's smells, coming into a larger room covered wall to wall with webs. Across the walls, glimmering like eyes in the dark, were gemstones of various colors and intensities. Roy licked his lips. He could make a good profit if he nicked a few of those and ran. When he looked back to Mister Deadman, though, the old man was watching him with shaded eyes from his hat. Roy didn't like that look.

"You thinking something untoward? Because that would be very uncool, you hear?"

"I'm not thinking of nothing," Roy said, quickly locking his eyes to the floor. "I just thought the crystals looked nice, is all."

Snap. Snap.

"Keep it that way." Mister Deadman scowled before putting his hands back in his pockets. "This is the reason we're here, you hear?"

Roy looked up, raising his eyebrows, "We're guarding these gems?"

Mister Deadman gave him a look that said that he was an idiot without actually saying it, and Roy quickly looked away. He didn't get it at all, but he was just a Knuckle now. Mister Deadman was a Finger and his boss.

Snap.

"These crystals here are the reason this operation can even happen." Mister Deadman raised one hand before snapping his finger. "These crystals keep all of Grim Aegis under control and keep some of the most powerful people on Erth modified until we can cement our power here."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the plan." Mister Deadman sighed. "Something you new recruits don't know. No one's ever been able to topple an Empyrean island and take control. Not the revolution, not any faction of the Underground. We're going to be the first to turn a key island into a trade haven, a place to spread our goods out across the Twelve Kingdoms, you hear?"

Roy looked up at the crystals before looking back down at Mister Deadman.

"And what do they have to do with that?"

Mister Deadman sighed.

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"Play it cool," he whispered to himself. "These gems aren't gems. They're the memories of everyone who comes into Grim Aegis. Miss Malone's curse lets her trap people up in her webs, you hear, and when she does that, she takes who they are. The crystals, gems, whatever you want to call them, are their true selves. So long as we have them, we have anyone who comes here trapped."

"Right." Roy scrunched his face. "But why not just kill them?"

Snap. Snap.

"The same reason anyone does anything—power," Mister Deadman said. "The more strong people we gather coming through, the stronger Miss Malone's curse gets. Eventually, we'll be able to stand up to even the Scions if they decide to come snooping around, you hear?"

In truth, Roy didn't understand how any of it worked. William had a curse. He could create objects in what he called their 'true form.' Roy always just thought they looked like letters. Curses could be powerful. That was why normal people didn't want anything to do with them. However, curses didn't make a person invincible. He didn't understand how trapping more people would make Miss Malone stronger.

"Just know your job is to patrol the sewers, you hear?" Mister Deadman said, rubbing at his eyes as he walked away. "Now, play it cool. Don't touch the crystals, and stay out of the webs. Come on, and I'll show you where the rest of the Knuckles sleep."

Roy followed after him, making sure to duck under the webs as they walked deeper into the sewers.

Charles didn't understand Ortega in the slightest and was starting to regret choosing the outlaw for help as he followed him through the alleys. It was costing him a lot to maintain his curse on the man, but at the same time, doing the trick again would take even more out of him. It was hard enough maintaining his rejection on his own mind.

"And where are we going exactly?" Charles finally asked as Ortega looked around at an intersection.

"The park," Alex said. "I need a quiet place."

Charles spat before reaching into his pocket for another Red Phoenix cigarette. He drew one out and lit it up, taking in a deep drag of nicotine before motioning Ortega to lead on. It wasn't like he was any worse off than before he had enlisted Ortega. He could give the idiot a chance.

Ortega eventually took them to a park, which was empty as the moon rose to its apex in the night. Ortega picked a place far from any nearby buildings across the street, sitting in the grass with his legs crossed and closing his eyes.

Charles took another drag of his cigarette.

"So, we're going to sleep in the park. That's how you're solving this?"

Ortega snorted.

"No." He opened one eye before leaning back on his arms. "I haven't done this before, but I thought I would try it."

"Closing your eyes in a park?"

"Look, we can both agree that whatever is causing this memory issue is probably a curse, right?"

"Thought that was fairly obvious." Charles stuck his hands in his pockets, his eyes wandering to the park's entrance gate.

"Back on Aherlow, I had a temporary boost to my own curse. It let me see connections I normally couldn't, which is part of the Path of Will."

"Pretend I don't know what you're talking about."

"It's a technique the Military Police use to sense the flow of aether," Ortega said. "Curses use aether, so if you can sense the flow, you can figure out what's affecting you. I've never done it, but I came close back on Aherlow."

"And you did this back on Aherlow? You were there when Tartarus went down?"

"I'm the reason Tartarus went down." Ortega smiled up at him.

"That made it a lot easier to get here. The place was practically in ruins outside of the docks." Charles whistled.

"So give me a minute, and I'll see if I can feel this out."

Charles shrugged but did as he asked, stepping away from Ortega and toward the gate. He couldn't shake the feeling they were being watched.

Shadows danced in the alley as he watched them, and just before he turned back, he saw a flash of red cross through the shadows. It had only been a moment, but he was sure he saw it. He reached for his gun, pulled it from the holster, and held it ready. He didn't have it pointed at the alley, but he could bring it up and shoot faster than he could be charged if he needed to.

"I got it," Ortega's whisper carried to his ears, and Charles reluctantly holstered his gun.

He kept an eye behind him as he walked back toward Ortega. He was more certain than ever that they were being watched. The second he fully turned his back, he expected whatever the red blur was to jump at him.

However, if he charged at it, it would probably run. That put him in a delicate situation. He felt it was better to know what was coming after you, and letting it get away would be the worst option. So, he decided to keep his cool and be ready to react.

"What in the tarnation are you doing?"

Ortega stood, his hand in an almost fully closed fist in front of his chest. To Charles, it looked like the kind of performer he had seen before on an island. A mime, he thought it was called. It was all pretend games involving invisible objects.

"There's a connection here," Ortega said, pulling at the invisible thing and walking toward the alley. "There's one coming off you, too, though you probably can't see it."

"And you're going to follow it." Charles followed him, watching the shadows as they exited the park and out into the street.

"You have any better leads?"

Charles had to admit that he didn't. Ortega had already made more progress than he had in his last few days on the island. He could follow along for the possibility that Ortega had it right. He didn't have to tell Ortega about any of that, though.

Ortega stopped in the middle of the alley.

"They're not going to the same place," he said. "Yours goes down the street; mine's further down this alley."

"We'll figure it out when we see where it leads." Charles shrugged. "Just keep going."

Skrrt.

Rocks scraped across the alley in front of them, in the shadows, and Charles drew his gun, training it on the source of the noise. From the shadows, a small figure stepped into the light, its red cloak flowing in the breeze and its blue eyes glowing in the dark. It was human, but something was off about its skin. It was too pale to be a human, and etchings across its face were visible in the moonlight.

Bolton didn't like that one bit. A creepy figure showing up in the middle of the night and following them was nothing to take lightly. It could even be the cause of all their problems, finally getting caught out in the open.

Click.

"Hold it." Charles pulled back his gun's hammer.

"Wait," Ortega said, holding up his hand, covering the figure from Charles's sight.

"Now ain't the time." Bolton sighed, lowering his gun.

"The string's connected to her." Ortega stepped forward, kneeling in front of the figure. "I think I know her."

"Alex," the figure whispered before charging at Ortega and wrapping its arms around him. "You're back!"

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