The loudest sound in the oppressive heat was the frantic click-clack of a wrench in Ezy’s hands. Across from her, Mara remained still, her amber eyes boring into the suffocating darkness.

  Trenn sat between them, his eyes closed. A dull pressure throbbed behind his eyes as his mind drifted down the sealed corridor.

  His clairvoyant sight followed the parallel brass rails, the twin lines of metal narrowing until the dark swallowed them. His hearing pushed into a profound silence, a dead air that swallowed all sound and offered nothing in return.

  The click-clack of Ezy's wrench stopped.

  "See anything yet?"

  Mara’s head snapped toward her, a glare that could have chipped stone. Ezy flinched.

  Trenn’s head gave a slow, imperceptible shake. A single bead of sweat broke free from his temple, tracing a path down his jaw.

  A deep thrum vibrated up the brass rails. Trenn’s eyes snapped open.

  “Something’s coming,” he rasped.

  Ezy’s wrench clattered to the stone. Mara was instantly on her feet.

  Trenn’s eyes slid shut again, his senses plunging back down the tunnel. “It’s a cart,” he reported. “Gnomish design.”

  His clairvoyance resolved the dark shape. “Moving fast. From the direction of the mainland.” The image sharpened. “A modified chassis. Two Gnomes. No helmet.”

  The motor whined, then hummed to a stop. Two figures hopped from the cart. A burly, shaven-headed Gnome rested a hand on the wrench at his belt. The leaner of the two swaggered as they went back-to-back, scanning the shadows. He had white straight hair styled upwards in wavy spikes, and a fresh stubble.

  A choked gasp tore from Ezy’s throat. She yanked her head back, her face pale. "Holy shit," she whispered, her hand clamping down on Trenn's arm. "That's Zeen."

  Zeen and his companion pushed their cart to the gate, their grumbling voices echoing in the quiet.

  "You said this would be simple," the burly Gnome muttered.

  Zeen produced a heavy brass key.

  "First Giant Ants—"

  "Hey, I warned you about those," Zeen interrupted, shoving the key into the lockbox. "And my plan worked, didn't it?"

  A series of protesting CLUNKS echoed from the lockbox as Zeen put his entire body into turning it.

  "And now we almost died to Kobold traps," the burly Gnome shot back. With a final, groaning shriek, the iron gate swung inward.

  They pushed the cart onto the elevator platform as the burly Gnome heaved the gate shut, a shadow detached from the wall and slipped through the closing gap.

  The gate slammed home with a deafening CLANG.

  A grinding rumble vibrated through the stone as their voices faded and the elevator began to rise.

  Ezy slumped against the cavern wall. The wrench slipped from her fingers, clattering on the stone.

  Trenn waited.

  "Zeen," she said, her voice quiet. "He's a friend. From the Tinker's Guild." Her gaze dropped to the floor, a faint flush rising on her soot-stained cheeks. "We apprenticed together. He was always ambitious. Never followed the rules." She shook her head. "I didn't know he was doing this. Whatever this is…"

  The giant mushrooms of the glade pulsed, casting a spectral glow. Trenn stood before Lady Yradone.

  “Lady Yradone,” he began, his voice low. “I have a question about the nature of tethers. Is it possible to sever a connection that another person has with a place?”

  The Gnomish regent’s ancient eyes held a profound, patient understanding. “A fundamental bond, such as the one you are thinking of, is more than a simple magical link,” she explained. “It is a source of identity. Of power. Of purpose.”

  She walked a slow circle around him. “It can be done,” she said, stopping. “But it requires the original bond to be weakened. Frayed,” she paused.

  “You must be tethered to that person, and your bond must be stronger than the one you’re trying to break.”

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  His bond with Mara was a complex tapestry of light, forged in battle and blood. But her tether to the Mana Forest was a deep river of ancient energy that plunged from her core, anchoring her to its lifeblood.

  “I will show you,” Yradone said. “Feel my connection to this place. Find the tether that connects me to the mushroom circle.

  Trenn projected his senses. With his clairvoyance, the tethers were easy to find. He didn’t need to “feel” or “hear” their hum; he could see them.

  The regent’s connection to her site of power was strong, but not as strong as the connection Mara shared with the Mana Forest.

  “Now, find the tether that connects us,” she continued.

  Trenn found it immediately. It was a thin but powerful thing that vibrated with a stark, luminous energy.

  “You see, these tethers are fluctuations of Mana. They are made of vibrations, pitch, resonance… match them. The same way you modulate your Mana to match the Element of Sound. Make our tether a match of the one I share with this place.”

  Trenn could feel it. It was simple. It was much easier than trying to match a specific element from memory. All he needed to do was modulate his Mana to—

  The tether that connected him to Yradone snapped.

  She smiled. “My link to this place was the strongest of the two; therefore, my tether to you is the one that failed. If our link had been the strongest, I would no longer be connected to this place, young Wild Mage,” she paused.

  “You’ve learned quickly. Continue your training, and your control of Mana will soon rival mine.”

  Bomber was stretching its wings overhead. It had been cleared by the vet this morning and had been flying ever since.

  To keep an eye on it, Trenn decided to join Mara in her Guardian work today. Her forearms and hands were completely healed, her fur regrown.

  They were gathering reagents for Alchemy. She worked with a detached economy of motion, her gaze distant and unengaged. They worked in a practiced silence, Mara acknowledging Trenn when he needed guidance.

  “Mara, I'm going to have to leave for the mainland soon. Whether it’s through this tunnel, or a boat,” he said, not looking up from the pouch he was filling. “I have to find the Order. I need to get back to Earth and save my family,” he paused, uncertain of how to ask.

  “Did you think about what Ezy said? Are you… Are you coming with us?”

  She shook her head from side to side. Trenn sighed.

  He secured the pouch, the pull of the drawstring feeling final. He looked up at her white fur against the forest’s deep green.

  “Okay. But when I’m done… if I can get it done,” he said, his voice barely a whisper, “I could come back?”

  Her hands went still. The rhythmic snipping of her claws against the moss stopped.

  Her response, when it finally came, was flat. “You could be dead.”

  The silence that followed was a sudden void in the forest's hum. For a long, agonizing moment, she did not move. She turned her entire body to face him, and the expression on her vulpine features was a mask of impassive calm, her amber eyes revealing nothing.

  Her stillness was worse than any snarl. It was a deliberate wall, built of silence and distance.

  Trenn was left staring at her back, the space between them now a vast, uncrossable canyon.

  "I've been looking everywhere for you guys!"

  Ezy burst into the clearing, her anti-gravity pigtails bouncing as she strode toward them. She was breathless, her face flushed.

  "Zeen," she managed, planting her hands on her hips. "I confronted him. I asked him why I shouldn't tell my mother everything." She shook her head, a flicker of grudging respect in her eyes. "He made a compelling argument."

  A second figure stepped from the shade of a copper-barked tree. Zeen moved with a swagger, a wide, knowing grin splitting his face.

  "Very compelling," he clarified. "Ezy can't turn me in without admitting she stole the gate key. A significant breach of the Schedule."

  He pivoted instantly, his gaze settling on Trenn.

  "But this is an opportunity," he said, spreading his hands.

  "An opportunity for who?" Trenn asked, his voice flat. A familiar weariness settled in his bones.

  "For everyone!" Zeen declared, his grin widening. "The Guilds are slow. The Schedule is safe. But safe is another word for stagnant." He gestured back in the vague direction of the Hive. "They see a collapsed tunnel full of monsters. I see a trade route. A new future."

  A smuggler, Trenn thought. The realization wasn't a surprise. Zeen radiated a kind of ambitious, corner-cutting energy that guild regulation couldn't contain.

  "My associates and I are... entrepreneurs," Zeen continued, choosing his words with care. "We're establishing a foothold on the mainland. A Wayrest. All we need is to secure this side of the path," he paused.

  "The Old Tunnels are infested with Kobolds. You're the Heroic Goblinslayers! Kobolds should be no trouble! It's a match. You get rid of them for us, and my associate and I show you the way to the mainland. A direct, transactional arrangement."

  It was a direct path to his goal. It was also a deal with a man who used blackmail as a negotiation tactic and was openly planning to break a quarantine that protected the entire Hive. He looked at Ezy, expecting to see a flicker of doubt—a revolt.

  Instead, her eyes were shining. "He's right, Trenn," she said, her voice filled with a sudden, passionate energy. "The Guilds are stagnant. They rejected the Stomper. Zeen... he's like me. A free thinker stuck in a bureaucracy."

  Zeen sensed his hesitation. "Look at it this way," he said, his voice becoming a conspiratorial murmur.

  "You need to get to the mainland. You'll need allies there, a place to rest your head. Fill your belly. Help us, and you'll have more than just passage. You'll have friends, a place to stay, and a way back to the Hive, if you need it."

  He looked at Mara. Her back was turned, her shoulders rigid. She offered nothing. Her silence was a suffocating weight.

  "Mara?" Trenn prompted, his voice quiet.

  She finally turned. The look on her face held none of the anger he expected, only a profound, weary exhaustion.

  "Another deal," she murmured, the words meant more for herself than for them. "Another plan. Another 'perfect match." She shook her head, a slow, tired motion. "You truly are a Wild Mage. One day they’ll have songs about you, too."

  She looked at Zeen with a complete lack of interest.

  "Do what you must, Trenn," she said, her voice devoid of energy. "Find your way home. I… believe in you. I’ll help you. We’re a team… until you leave."

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