The big one effortlessly suspending me far above the ground isn’t particularly large for his breed, but the strength of his grip is absolute. Still frenetically struggling to keep my hood down, I only catch fleeting glances at him and one other behind him. How did they sneak up on me without drawing my attention? Even the rats can’t hide from me at this point. Are there any more of them down here?

  “Like some random forsaken wandering the sewers in the asinine melancholy they do would know about that high rung drama,” the partner in back shoots back dismissively. “You just want to vent some frustration.”

  Not knowing what else to do, I relax slightly and bring out my status to check the map of my surroundings. There’s two red dots representing these big ones, but nothing else. If I can sneak away from my captors, then I should be able to flee through a rat hole to the surface, easily evading them. However, this grip. He’s so ridiculously strong! How?

  “I’m not refuting that,” the strong one laughs, jiggling my body with every deep, gasping breath. “But you never know. Wouldn’t be the first time Kyklos has surprised us.”

  Thinking quickly, I slide my hands down to the strong one’s iron grip and focus. Drawing energy from core to hands, I will them to empower. Become stronger. No, that’s not enough, more. More. More!

  That’s it! A surge of strength floods my hands, and I fight to tear the big one’s clenched fist from my throat. Managing to wrap all my tiny fingers around a single finger, I fiercely wrench and pull at it, hoping a sudden pain may jar him into letting go.

  “Oh?” the partner coolly observes in surprise. “Maybe I’m wrong after all. That’s surely no forsaken. Why in the world would some skilled spend time down here of their own accord?”

  “See?!” the strong one enthusiastically expounds, holding his trophy higher for all to see. “He may be little, but he’s full of mysterious surprises to be pried out one way or another.”

  Slamming me against the wall, I gasp, desperately bringing my hands back up to lock my hood in place. The heavy impact splatters noxious substances in every direction, spraying the strong one in the face.

  “Hm, on second thought, let's head back up to Thomas’ command for the interrogation. Tired of being down in this slop, and it’s so damned dark.”

  “Agreed,” the partner enthusiastically answers.

  Walking back up the main tunnel, the strong one clumsily drags me along behind him on the ground. Trying to kick and resist doesn’t slow him in the slightest. It’s somehow worse than being carried by Vastra’s annoying giant. He only takes brief possession of me to explain his pointless jobs, then sends me on my way. I can’t imagine this situation working out so easily in my favor with these two.

  Up a manhole and onto the street, a few big ones passing glance at the strange trio, but move on after noting my captors’ outfits. Is that normal? Is this the security Garret’s projection threatened to send after me? They’ll surely disrobe and search me at their destination. Why else take me? They’ll see, they’ll know, they’ll steal my life. All of this will have been for nothing!

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  In the depths of desperation, I forcefully seize hold of my mind to calm myself back down to discipline. Focus, focus, focus. Think, think, think. Plan, plan, plan. What do I need? If I can’t get away, then how do I survive?

  I carefully allow the folds of my hood to reveal the surroundings. There’s not much to see other than the typical bustle of the town’s streets. It’s not the city, but Tarnas still has so much energy to it. Most of the big ones don’t even bother looking at us. However, one particular individual catches my gaze.

  Another little big one, like the ones that captured me in Figeholm. He watches me with an intense curiosity. Briefly, our eyes seem to meet. A mutual connection of sorts is formed, although I couldn’t explain how or why. Allowing one hand to drop, I grab at the amulet tucked inside my leathers, carefully injecting it with energy in the same fashion as the scrying stone back at the library. The energy flows from amulet to eyes and back again, forming a kind of closed circuit loop, completing a contract. I feel my face growing warm.

  “What was that?” the partner exclaims, stopping and turning towards me. “Did he do something?”

  “What’s he going to do?” the strong one carelessly questions back, lazily holding me up for the other to inspect. “He may have skill, but he’s not that skilled.”

  The partner extends his hand and forcefully removes my hood, suspicious.

  “It’s just some kid?” he blurts out. “I’m not sure if that makes all this more or less questionable.”

  “Maybe he’s a runner?”

  “Alright, I’ve already agreed that this is interesting. We won’t solve anything out here on the street,” the partner complains before turning back to continue walking.

  That worked? The amulet fooled them into thinking that I’m that little big one. As long as they don’t remove my leathers, then hopefully I’ll be safe. Assuming this arcane mask lasts long enough? Being right up against my skin, I try moving a miniscule amount of stable energy to touch and inspect it. It feels solid enough, as if it won’t dissolve quickly. It’ll be enough. It has to be enough.

  Finally, the pair slips into a discreet alley off the main street. The strong one slams open a small door on the side of one of the large buildings. Quickly stepping inside, the partner quietly shuts the door behind us.

  “Team two is back!” the strong one shouts. “Prepare an interrogation room. And food! I’m hungry.”

  “We ate right before we went on shift, you glutton.”

  “Nothing wrong with a little midnight snack, Padras,” the strong one vigorously insists, beating his chest with his free hand.

  A smallish, uniformed figure in long robes glides into the room and waves for the duo to follow. As we head deeper inside, I feel several pulses of energy sliding against the surface of my skin. Is this place probing me? Will it prevent me from using my songs? Gathering stable energy onto my palm to check, it doesn’t seem that way. What is this place?

  The attendant waves us towards a small door. The big one harshly tosses me inside against the rear wall, and then my captors smoothly follow my lead. Coughing and gagging air back into my freed throat, I prop myself up off the floor. The room is empty save for three chairs and a small table. All the furniture sits awkwardly against the strangely curving surface of the cell floor. The walls and ceilings also bend, almost as if we’re inside some kind of concrete bubble.

  The door slams shut and a loud screeching erupts as the strong one intentionally drags a chair across the ground before taking a seat blocking the exit.

  “Easy part’s over, pup,” the strong one declares. “Time to spill the beans, else life’s about to get real difficult.”