He expected the cloaked man to do something, anything, but the man just stood there. Cloaky was as motionless now as he’d been the first time Sorin had laid eyes on him. In fact, Cloaky had had so little reaction to anything going on that, now that Sorin had a few seconds to study the figure, he was convinced that the man wasn’t actually present at all.
Some sort of sending magic, maybe? Easy to find out.
Sorin walked past Amistra’s headless corpse. Cloaky didn’t move. The exact range to sense another person’s soulspace rank varied, but it was generally accepted to be no more than a few feet. For Sorin, he’d always found that he could feel it from about five feet away, though sometimes as far as seven.
In this case, he didn’t feel anything at all. It was like Cloaky wasn’t even there, which was in fact exactly what Sorin was starting to suspect was the case. He came to a halt in front of the illusion, then casually ran it through with his sword.
“Are you satisfied?” Cloaky asked.
“I suppose. Did you expect me to stand there and let your thugs torture an innocent old man just because you were looking for me?”
“Yes. Given everything I know and suspect, I would have thought you’d outgrown any heroic urges a long, long time ago.”
“Oh? And what exactly do you know and suspect?”
“You are an outsider. You are far more experienced than your rank would suggest, and you are skilled enough to easily beat three climbers who should all be stronger than you. You possess the Liminal Gateway sigil. Your soulspace is decorated with the mosaic.”
That… is a lot more accurate than I’m comfortable with. Shit, is this guy’s Liminal Gateway messing with mine? Is that why I couldn’t create a new sign before?
“You’re him, right? The Black Hellion. Samael. I hear you’re a smuggler beyond compare. Bet I know how you accomplished that little feat,” Sorin said.
The cloak twitched into a slight nod. “What color was your home?”
“Blue. Yours?”
“Orange.”
Same color Zellick went into, probably. “This one seems a bit harder on the lower floors than I remember mine being.”
“Mine as well,” Cloaky—Samael—said. “It is why I have stalled my own climb for so long. The climbers here are unable to meet the expertise I need. I had resigned myself to climbing alone rather than do what you are attempting to do. It is a foolish waste of your time. Those children will never last.”
There was some truth to that. Sorin had often thought the same thing, especially when he considered how reckless Rue was. Odric probably had the best odds of survival on his own, but his ability to judge a situation went out the window once his sister got herself into trouble.
Not like I’m any better. Just look at the last two minutes of my life.
He’d had legitimate reasons to fight, but it almost certainly would have been the better decision from a tactical perspective to let one or two of the thugs drag the old man off before attacking. Samael knew how to use that against him now, which boded ill for anyone Sorin associated with.
“And I should do what instead? Join up with you?”
“Yes. Precisely that,” Samael said. “Two climbers who conquered their home towers, able to grow in power beyond their rank and with the ability to walk the silver road through the void beyond the tower. Just think of what we could accomplish.”
“You’re not the kind of man I want to work with. I couldn’t trust you not to stick a knife in my back if it benefited you.”
“You’ll change your mind,” Samael promised. “Or you won’t, and I’ll make you. It wouldn’t be the first time.”
Sorin walked through the apparition. They couldn’t harm each other, not now, and there was work to be done. He kicked aside the rubbish and debris covering the seven-tower sign, then held a hand out and started channeling anima into it. It only took a few seconds of concentration to overcharge Ice Blade enough to fire off a chunk of ice heavy enough to shatter the symbol carved into the stone.
“What are you doing?” Samael asked.
“No point in leaving this around if people know where it is,” Sorin said.
Sorin was reasonably certain that Samael was using a weak version of Clairvoyant Projection. Samael would only be able to move his illusory avatar a few hundred feet at absolute most, and probably less. Now that Sorin’s business here was complete, he had no reason to hang around and wait for stronger, higher-ranked climbers to show up.
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As much as he would have loved to have a civil discussion with the other transported climber, that wasn’t going to happen. Samael’s willingness to talk was concerning, and, considering how little information he was giving away and how many overt threats he was issuing, he was probably stalling for time.
“You cannot win this,” Samael called after him. “I’ve had too much time to prepare. I have too many climbers on my side. There is no escaping your fate.”
Cultures probably varied in subtle ways from tower to tower, but Sorin was pretty sure some things were universal. The gesture he signed back at Samael as he walked away was one of those things.
* * *
God, I hope this works, Sorin thought to himself as he finished carving the sign in a new wall. He was over a mile away, closer to his dead drop site and hopefully nowhere near any Hellion gang members. His working theory was that, with the original sign destroyed, a new one on Floor 0 would work. After all, that was what he’d had to do when he’d made too many on the higher floors.
Of course, if it didn’t work, then his only option would be to make a break for the portal hub and hope there weren’t too many climbers standing between him and freedom. Even taking the time to try this instead of fleeing directly to the portal was a risk, but it was worth trying. Besides, it wasn’t that much of a risk. The logic was sound. It should work.
Gathering up the supply packs, he reached into his soulspace and activated Liminal Gateway. A shudder went through him as the strange soulprint pulled him through the sign and onto the liminal pathway. Yes! I knew it!
The path looked different now. It was subtle, just a slight adjustment to the angle it ran to the next nub. Sorin took it as confirmation that the sign’s physical location in the tower influenced the liminal path. Whether that would matter in the future as the soulprint hopefully grew, he wasn’t prepared to guess.
He took the path quickly, not wanting to spend any more time than he had to looking into the void. Halfway there, he stopped and peered at the nub leading to the nightmare bats. That can’t be good.
Black cracks ran through the nub like veins that slowly ate away the image. For the moment, it was still solid enough, but Sorin wondered what would happen if he attached a new location to his path. The shift had obviously damaged this one, and it might fall apart completely from the inside. This particular location didn’t matter in the long-term, not since he’d already gotten what he needed from there, but it was a stark reminder that he didn’t know the rules of his new reality.
Disturbed, Sorin hustled away from the cracked nub and hoped that he wasn’t about to find something similar near the end. Thankfully, he wasn’t that unlucky. About ten feet before the trail fell away into darkness, he reached his destination and found it whole.
Despite it being only late afternoon when he returned, Rue was taking a nap while Odric and Nemari kept watch on the far side of the camp. Oh, I see. She’s not sleeping. She’s pretending while she eavesdrops on them.
Whatever they’d been talking about—Sorin had some guesses he’d be willing to put money on—the conversation ended when he appeared. Nemari jumped to her feet, a lick of flame already appearing in her palm, but she relaxed when she saw who’d entered the camp. “That is creepy the way you just came out of nowhere.”
“You’ll get used to it,” Sorin said. He unshouldered a backpack and started dropping bags. “So, good news or bad news first?”
“Might as well start with the good,” Rue said as she sat up and pretended to yawn. Sorin squinted at her, but she pretended not to notice.
“Right… Well, good news then. Bradford is willing to help us, albeit at a bit steeper price than market rate. He knows we’re deep in the floor without a portal home. Honestly, I think if it wasn’t the Black Hellions threatening us, he’d have stayed out of things instead. As it stands, he’ll act as our fence and push whatever we find through his business and pick up whatever supplies we request. I have a dead drop site set up not too far away from the Meat Grinder which should be easy for me to hit once a week.”
“That’s a lot better than expected,” Nemari said. “What went wrong?”
“Run in with the Black Hellions. Killed three of them, two weaklings and a rank 8. Then I had a little chat with the Hellion-in-Chief himself. He is… very strong. I’m guessing able to use at least a few C-rank soulprints, which puts him up past rank 25.”
“How’d you get away?” Rue asked.
“He wasn’t there in person,” Sorin explained. “It was some sort of sensory projection ability that let him see the fight and talk to me, but not physically act. Honestly, I got very lucky, because there are gulfs so big that no amount of skill can bridge them. If he gets personally involved in the hunt for us, staying ahead of him is going to be almost impossible.”
They were all silent at that for a moment. Finally, Nemari asked, “If?”
Sorin nodded. “I got the impression that he learned what he wanted from our brief conversation. We’re definitely still in danger, but I’m not sure he cares enough to come out and do anything about us personally.”
“And what exactly did you talk about?”
“Climbing,” Sorin said. “Whether it’s better to climb solo or as part of a team. What he wants from me and how I have no interest in giving it to him.”
“That’s suitably vague. Are you going to share the specifics or just leave us in the dark?”
“I thought I’d do the second one,” Sorin told her seriously. “I have my own business that I have good reasons for keeping private, Nemari. I’m willing to work with you all, but if you can’t accept that, we can part ways.”
It wasn’t fair. Sorin knew that. But this was a hard line for him, one he wasn’t going to budge on. The most he would do was say, “As far as I understand, other than Rue’s handler’s interest in her specifically, the Hellions don’t actually care about or have a problem with any of you. As soon as they find out we’ve parted ways, you’ll all likely be significantly safer.”
“But not actually safe,” Rue said. “With or without you, the Hellions still want me. So I’m staying.”
“And I’m not abandoning my sister,” Odric added.
Nemari alone might have objected, but Sorin already knew what she was thinking. Her own family had turned on her, had imprisoned and abused her, and had been in the process of handing her over to a dangerous criminal to save their own hides. If she left now, she’d be an independent with no one supporting her and enemies looking to settle scores.
“If you want to leave, we’ll make sure you get back to the portal hub safely,” Sorin said before she could decide. “We can do that much, at least, but after that, you’re on your own.”
“No. I’m staying. It’s like you said. The only way out is to keep climbing higher.”
