The Heightened accept me into their ranks without rancor. I’d worried when I saw the state of them that they would be so afraid of their captors that they’d turn me over in an instant, instead I am able to fall into their groups and be unnoticed.

  I sleep with my back against another and with someone pressed close enough to me that I can feel the heat of their breath on my cheek. It isn’t so cold that we must huddle this close, it is for the companionship. These Heightened are cowed, they seek out the touch and presence of others to ground them in the moment and keep them from the deepest of despair.

  As the rising cycle lightens the sky we wake and the Heightened busy themselves about the tasks of the day. They are not confined to the settlement as I had assumed; we rise together and I walk out of the clearing in the company of three others with no supervision from the Marked who are still either abed or reclining.

  The Heightened I travel with are quiet until we are well out of earshot of the Marked. The one who’d first greeted me at the butchering turns to me with wide, furious eyes.

  “What in the Blazes are your doing? Who are you? Why are you here?”

  She’s tall, the top of her head is level with the bridge of my nose; black hair held back in a loose plait with strands flying about in the breeze. She’s clenched her fists and her arms are strained as she glares up at me.

  The other two Heightened stand back warily. A man and woman, both slender and worn.

  “Peace, Heightened. Peace.”

  “Peace?” She spits to the side and presses a finger into my chest. “What is your game? You stroll into camp like you’ve any business being there and put us all in danger. What are you here for?”

  “I’m looking for friends, I told you.”

  She scoffs. “Right. Friends. No one comes looking for friends.”

  “Well, I do. They’d have arrived recently, in the last week.”

  “New people come and go.”

  The man chips in from the side. “They’re probably helping build the static.”

  She nods. “That’s right, they’re probably all taken to the Static. The fiery Marked is making people build a whole…I don’t know, palace? Took three of ours for it just last week.”

  “Building?” I look at them. “That doesn’t sound terrible. Isn’t it better than the dungeons?”

  “Better? Maybe. Hard labour. They have us bring in wood and stone as far as other segments or those mountains in the distance. If you think that’s better, then sure.” She crosses her arms. “None of that explains why you’re here or how you got here.”

  “I walked in.” I grimace as I remember Caleb hanging from the stake. “I hadn’t realised how cruel people could be.”

  “Where have you been that anything is different?”

  “I’ve been traveling. Besides, that’s not important, I need to find where these friends are being held. Can you help with that?”

  “No.”

  “Then I should leave and find someone who does.” I turn to walk back the way I’d come to join the village, back towards Heric and our copse.

  “Wait!” She grabs my arm. I am stronger than she is, as strong as a Marked I think. I could pull away and she couldn’t halt me, but I stop. I look back at her. “You can’t leave now. They don’t look like they’re paying attention, but they count us out. They’ll know we left as four and came back as three. You’ll be gone but we have to deal with the repercussions.”

  “What will they do?”

  “You saw what they did to Will. That would be us, but worse.”

  Do I care about them? I pass my eyes over each of the three, my eye flashes symbols that tell me nothing, and I sigh. These are not my people. I don’t really have people, but these are certainly not mine. I could walk away but what comes next? They will be hurt, badly, and there will be an alert. Marked will start across the land to hunt and find me. Without Heric that would be too dangerous.

  “Fine. I’ll come back with you today, but if I can’t learn anything then I’m going to have to leave tonight.”

  “And how do you plan to do that?”

  “I am looking for friends, I never said I didn’t already have some.”

  There is something in her eyes now; it’s a spark, a small thing that hasn’t yet been crushed in the fist of the Marked. I think for a moment that she will smile, but the light fades and she looks away.

  “Unless you have an army of Marked ready to pounce, I’m not sure what good it will be.”

  She jerks her head at the others as we set off again. We walk in silence for a while, but the others start muttering to one another, then chuckling and their conversation flows. It is not long until the black haired woman joins in and I am left at the outside, a stranger, a threat.

  I learn their names as we move through the rolling hills to the edge of a sparse copse of trees. The black haired woman who spoke with anger is Mela. The other woman is Seeple and the man Usyk. They are soft, the other two. Their bodies might be roughened by their labours, but their hearts are still fluffed from a life of plenty. They care for one another, catching eyes and small touches of their hands. I don’t understand it myself.

  We gather sticks that have fallen and dried. I am handed a leather contraption that straps over my shoulders and wraps about the sticks so that I can carry a load far larger than I could with arms alone. I’m spreading my sticks as the Bright cycle comes and passes its brightest point and clear my throat to gather Mela’s attention.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  “I haven’t seen any monsters in this segment, except those we were skinning.”

  “You won’t. There’s so many Marked here that they banded together and hunted them until there were none left.” She shrugs. “The architects haven’t seen fit to replace them.”

  “Was that so they could send you out without escort?”

  “They sent us out before the monsters were killed, they don’t care much for our casualties. Unless you’re one of their favourites, of course. Then you get to spend your time with the Marked and get a seed from the dungeons.”

  I nod, my sticks are neat so I drape the straps over the pile and pull them taut with two knots to hold them in place. I’m proud of what I’ve done until Mela clicks her tongue, reaches over, and redoes them in a fashion I’ve never encountered.

  “Thank you.”

  “Learn fast or you’ll make us look bad.”

  The way back is subdued; the closer we are to the settlement the sourer the moods turns until our heads are as bowed as our backs when we walk past the Marked. There are fewer that I can see, and my eye tells me the same. Three Marked in the camp and over one hundred Heightened. Still, they wouldn’t stand a chance even in full revolt, the gulf between us is too great.

  “Damned shade sucking…” Mela bites her tongue and her eyes flash with fury as she looks at Will, still splayed out the log. His lips are chapped and cracked, the blood on his back has dried into his deep wounds and yet his chest rises and falls.

  “This can’t last much longer.” I whisper to her. “His suffering will be done soon.”

  “I don’t want his suffering done. I want him to live, damn you.” She hisses back at me, drawing eyes from the Heightened. My eyes slip across to the closest Marked. It’s the same one who greeted me the the day before. Cadil, I’ve learned.

  Cadil stares at me with something indiscernible on his face. I think we’ve escaped ire for a moment and I even shrug off my load of wood but we are not so lucky. Cadil strolls over to us and looks up. He’s smaller even than Mela and I can see in the twitch of his cheek that he hates that.

  “You seem to be having a good time. Maybe you need some heavier work? The construction always needs more bodies.”

  “We’re tired, honoured Marked.” I lean down in an obsequious bow. It should have been ludicrous to any right minded person, but Cadil preens as I lower myself to beneath his eye line. “Apologies, Sir.”

  “At least one of you curs actually understands proper respect.” He tilts my head up with the handle of his weapon. A brutal cleaver, short and thick to match its owner. “I can’t place you. You’d think I’d remember a face as memorable as yours. This scar…” he taps my face just beside my eye where my skin is puckered from Oran’s burn. “I’m sure I’ve seen its like before, though, with the way the fire Marked tosses about his brands, I’m sure I’ll see more again.

  Cadil throws his head back in laughter; it’s like a stuck animal, guttural and grim. He taps his cleaver against my cheek and turns away, ready to walk back to his lounging place. The spirit of foolishness invades my body in this moment and I open my mouth it should have remained shut.

  “Honoured Marked Cadil, Sir.” He pauses, he turns his body in a slow, deliberate motion that brings his slitted eyes to rest on me with lids narrowed.

  “Perhaps not quite so respectful after all.”

  “Apologies, honoured Marked. A thousand apologies. Might we remove and tend to this Heightened now his punishment is meted? If we wash and tend now he might return to your service.”

  “Why would I want a thief back in my service?”

  “As you say so it is, honoured Marked. But is not one more to serve better than fewer?”

  Cadil rubs a hand across his face the looks to the darkening sky. “More is a headache. Do you think I like watching over you Heightened? With your scurrying and scrounging?” He steps close once more and his face is beside mine, still bent in supplication. “You bring me nothing but trouble. Except…”

  Cadil stand up, spry, and claps a scaled hand onto my shoulder “What a wonderful plan, little Heightened. What a wonderful plan. Come, let us free your friend so he can become once more a member of our little society. Come, come.”

  Cadil leads me by the shoulder; his strength is enhanced by his mark so I must move with him, though I feel the pressure and think that perhaps I might be able to push back against it if I try. I won’t, though. There are two more Marked watching this strange act as he leads me to the vine bound man.

  “On your knees, Heightened. Free him.” He pushes me to the ground and points towards Will.

  “I have no blade with which to cut the bonds, honoured Marked.”

  “But I’ve already told you. You’re a scurrying little creature, Heightened. And what do the scurrying little creatures do? They gnaw. Bite it. Free your friend if it matters so much to you.”

  I look back to the crowd of Heightened. They’ve all gathered. A hundred of them silently watching, emotions warring across their faces as they see the calamity. What happens if I cannot free him?

  Then Mela. She meets my eyes and there is such sorrow in the lines she’s too young to have earned.

  I reach out for the first vine and I almost lose a hand as Cadil’s cleaver slams into the log beside me.

  “When did I say you could use your hands? Gnaw, little creature. Bite and chew.”

  I swallow my anger. I’m sure I could take him. If I rise now and lash out I can bite into his throat and he won’t have time to react. Or his scales will turn my teeth and fists away and he will use whatever gifts the architects have bestowed on him and tear me into ribbons.

  No. I won’t fight now. Heric is coming tonight and together we will kill Cadil if we can, and the others. If not, I will add him to a new list that contains only one other name. Oran.

  I find the vine near to Will’s right wrist with my mouth; it’s rough. I bite into it and taste the bitterness of vegetation and the sickly metallic tinge of old blood. I want to gag but I force myself ahead.

  All the sounds that the clearing hears for an hour are my grunts and Will’s moans as I slowly part the fibers and wear down the vines until, finally, he slides free with a cry stronger than I thought he could make.

  I collapse now too; I’ve put everything into the task, my jaw aches, my teeth feel like they’re about to shatter and I am spent. There is a prideful joy in what I’ve done. I could have looked away, my mind was telling me to turn my gaze up and never acknowledge the man’s pain. It was my foolishness that I thought smothered that drove me and I know that it has made me better.

  “Well. I didn’t think you’d actually manage it. Deal is a deal, I suppose. Come get your thief.” Cadil walks away a few paces as the bravest of the Heightened dart in and drag Will’s whimpering body away. Mela leads. “Oh. Right. The dungeon has reset. It’s time for an expedition, but it looks like there aren’t enough Marked to go in.” He walks back to me with a grin from ear to scaled ear. “You look like a brave little creature, half monster yourself with your mouth all bloody like that. Pick five and take them in with you.”

  I push myself to my feet, up and up until I tower over the little man. I have no more obeyance to give him. “That’s a death sentence.”

  “Not my problem. Take five with you or I’ll kill ten.”

  “You can’t do that.”

  His slap sends me reeling; I stagger back against the log and my hand slips. I fall back to my knees as my vision darkens at the edges. I shake my head and stand.

  “I can’t choose who dies…honoured Marked.”

  “Then more die.” He shrugs. “Your choice.”

  “I’ll go.” I close my eyes and hope that I heard wrong. Mela is too brave. Too righteous. I was right that I saw the spark in her and I am so saddened that I was correct. My heart hurts more as four more Heightened step forward. Brave and true and utterly stupid. Why? Why would they throw themselves into death for nothing?

  The dungeon breathes and I feel the warmth of its summoning on my tender face.

  If I go into that dungeon, Heightened and alone, then I will note emerge again. I won’t ever realise my dream, I’ll never reach heaven.

  I should try to run but the Marked…they will kill me before I leave. There’s nothing I can do. Nothing. My plan was foolish, I’ve learned nothing of worth and now I face an impossible choice.

  “I’ll go.” My words slam heavy into the ground.

  Cadil smirks. “Of course you will.”