Morgan stepped onto the fifty-third floor, the first of Moonlight Sonata’s licenses for the day. A part of her always rolled her eyes at the climb it took to get up here, but she was used to it by now. At least getting down was easier. They could just jump down the center of the spiraling stairs, flitting through world after world until they hit the ground. Sure, some of them wouldn’t survive a fall like that normally, but that was why magic was useful.

Julian and Chelsea followed close behind. Morgan’s lieutenants didn’t even have a hitch in their breaths. That was to be expected for Julian, a powerful swordsman, but Chelsea was a mage, focused almost entirely on cultivating the powers of her Emberflame, and yet managed to keep up with the physically focused Embers. The rest of the guild poured off the stairwell after them while Morgan looked around.

They were on a cliffside high in the mountains, at almost the exact point where the snow began to dust the peaks. Sparse clouds floated not far above their heads, allowing them to see out into the infinite sky. Far across the way was another mountain, but the two only came together miles below in the verdant valley. There was a bit of a chill in the air, but Morgan breathed easily. She wondered briefly if that was because her Emberflame sustained her through the low air density or if it was just easily breathable regardless.

Not all of the guild members were as tireless as her and her lieutenants, so she called for a few minutes’ rest and tried to stand still even if she wanted to bounce impatiently. Julian and Chelsea were watching the pass, where the only path led away from the ethereal stairs.

“Julian,” she called, catching his attention. “You ready?”

The lithe man grinned and jogged over. “Course I am. Are you? Not still recovering?”

Morgan narrowed her eyes. “You kidding? Now, rune or no rune?”

“Let’s go vanilla today. I have to win sometimes, you know.”

“Sure you do.”

Morgan chuckled and pulled out a coin, then paced off the length of the platform where they’d landed to find the middle. Her guild members perked up as she did so, a couple wishing one or the other of her and Julian good luck, while the rest jeered good-naturedly.

Chelsea approached Morgan and took the coin from her when offered, then spoke in a low tone. “You should just let him take point. He needs the practice more than you do.”

Morgan looked at her incredulously. “He doesn’t need the practice! He’s plenty strong enough. Besides, I want to run point.”

Chelsea shrugged. “Yeah, yeah. I’m gonna hold it closer to him, though.”

“Traitor!” Morgan hissed at her friend. “You should seriously just ask him out.”

Chelsea flinched, glancing around to see if anyone was close enough to hear, then turned a baleful gaze on Morgan. “Shut up, Morgan.”

Morgan smiled innocently, and Chelsea rolled her eyes, then walked to the center. The mage’s Emberflame ignited, and the coin floated out of her palm. She promptly retreated to a safe distance.

“Ready?” Chelsea called, her voice raised since even in the middle she was at least thirty feet away from either Morgan or Julian. Both Morgan and Julian kept their eyes on the coin, each nodding once as Chelsea looked at them and focusing. Both their Emberflames ignited, fire filling their gazes as they waited for the go-ahead. Moments later, without warning, Chelsea shouted again. “Go!”

Morgan pushed off the ground, flashing through the air as fast as thought, her right arm outstretched. In less than a second, she covered the intervening ground, palming the coin and slipping past Julian, who’d barely made it half the distance despite his own incredible speed. She slid to a stop, and their contest was over.

Her guild shouted and clapped, laughing as she held up the coin and grinned. Only Julian looked at her in shock as he came to a stop himself, turning to face his guild master. He quickly approached her.

“You cheated,” he accused. “You have a rune!”

Morgan tilted her head in confusion. “No, I don’t. What are you talking about?”

He studied her closely, then pursed his lips. “There’s no way you didn’t have a rune. You’re almost as fast as me without, but you just ran circles around me. Figuratively, I mean. Just because no one else is fast enough to notice doesn’t mean I won’t. Unless you’ve been holding out on us this whole time.”

“I obviously haven’t! And what do you mean ‘almost’?” Morgan scoffed, though her thoughts quickly ran elsewhere. Julian had seemed a little slower than usual. She turned her gaze inward, closing her eyes, and found that indeed no, there were no runes currently drawing at her strength. Her Emberflame did look like it was burning a little brighter than it had before, though.

“If you really want point that much…” she heard him saying, and she felt a pang. She cared more for the contest than point position on their delve team. She didn’t want him to think she would cheat to win, as much as she preferred winning.

She shook her head as she searched. “No, I’m serious. I don’t have a rune. I don’t see any draws, either.”

Morgan opened her eyes again, rolling up her sleeves and looking down at her arms, which were bare of anything but her tattoos.

“Well,” she said. “That’s certainly strange.”

***

Lyle continued his observation of the steps, occasionally sprinting out—without a torch, of course—to see how far he could make it and get a more holistic view. At one point the steps were cycling so quickly that it was practically a continuous loop of movement, and yet the surface of the water somehow remained undisturbed. Then, blessedly, it began to slow.

It took nearly an hour and a half for the cycle to slow to the point that Lyle felt he could make his way to the platform safely. When he was ready, he took another torch from the brazier, noting that there were only two left now aside from the one he was holding, and jogged onto the path with his black blade in his right hand.

As with his attempt earlier, he wasn’t moving fast enough to avoid the fish, which he now deemed razor-fins. That meant he had to continually cut them down and risk the torch going out for a longer period of time. Still, it was safer than sprinting with the vulnerable flame.

With the steps’ periodic rising and falling still slowing, he was able to make it to the center of the lake again without putting out the torch. He left a lot of dead razor-fins in his wake, though they quickly sank into the depths or were torn apart by their fellows. When he reached the centermost platforms, he turned right on a path that formed a circle between the four sanctuary stones. He reached the next one over in just a couple minutes, and was now closest to one of the beaches that held an unlit brazier.

His journey continued, a constant and careful dance of slicing leaping fish out of the air and safeguarding the flame. The pathway was beginning to speed its cycle again. He would have to be very quick if he wanted to make it back to the beach where he’d obtained his torch before he was forced to wait on one of the sanctuaries for at least an hour. Though he thought of them as sanctuaries, he wasn’t completely convinced that one of those tentacled creatures wouldn’t drag him from his perch to his death, so avoiding that would be good for his peace of mind.

He lowered the torch carefully into the brazier when he reached the beach, his eyes on the water behind him for any sign of attack, but no new terrors emerged. The brazier lit up as the wood within caught fire. It blazed high with an oddly purple-tinged light. The fire consumed the torch in an instant, forcing him to jerk back his arm to keep from being burned.

After pausing for the time it took to make sure the newly-lit fire didn’t go out, Lyle sprinted back onto the path, feeling a weight lifted from his shoulders now that he didn’t have to restrain himself. He made it to a sanctuary platform just before the path sank and did a double take when he realized the pattern had switched directions. This time, the platforms closest to the shore had begun to sink first, and the pattern worked its way inwards. That meant getting to the center would be easier, at least, but it could make his trip back to the orange flame that much more difficult.

He nearly made it to the beach where he’d been attacked, but the pattern was against him now. As Lyle had suspected he might, he was caught on the last platform before the beach, unable to continue because of the increasing speed. He settled down, unfortunately without a fire to chase the damp chill away, and ate some of the snacks he had packed in anticipation of a long challenge.

He finished a piece of beef jerky just as a dessicated hand slapped its palm on the edge of the platform, startling him out of his wits and causing him to drop the rest of the bag, which slid into the water.

Lyle groaned as he lost his food and glared at the zombie-creature as it slowly clawed its way out of the water. It was covered in lake weeds, shells, and barnacles, and its eyes were a milky white, but it was humanoid, and it reached its human hands out to grasp him. Lyle backed away at first, testing it to make sure it wouldn’t suddenly lunge once it was within range, but it continued its lethargic efforts to claw at him. When it got close enough, a flash of his blade sliced off its hands, and he kicked it off the platform. It grunted, sounding almost annoyed, as it sank back into the depths of the lake.

“Well, guess the platforms aren’t safe anymore,” Lyle muttered to himself. He spun as another slap sounded behind him.

The zombies didn’t get harder to kill, but they kept him from resting for any length of time as he waited an hour for the pathway to slow. By the time he made it to shore again, he was getting tired and wondering if it would be safe enough here that he could take a nap.

Nothing followed him onto the beach but he decided that he would be likely to never wake up if he fell asleep here, so he grabbed a torch and began what he hoped was his final trip over the lake. He made it without any pauses of more than a few minutes, meaning he only had to deal with a couple of zombies in addition to the usual jumping razor-fins.

When he dropped the torch into the second unlit brazier, it burst up with a green flame. Nothing attacked him, but there was no apparent way out of the lagoon, either.

“Alright, so how do I leave? Is that the end?” Lyle said quietly to himself as he scanned the lake and the other beaches. Something caught his eye in the center. A distortion manifested in the dead air—the way out.

Lyle began running again and noticed the steps of the pathway stayed up until he stepped on them, at which point they lit up and sank. He paused on one of the safe platforms to see if anything new would hinder him, but besides a couple more zombies, there was nothing out of the ordinary. He continued his advance towards the Tear.

As he neared the center, Lyle noticed a large swath of water surrounding the portal begin to swirl and roil like it was nearing boiling temperature. Or like there was something large shifting underneath it. He slowed his approach and watched it carefully.

Lyle reached the platform nearest the portal and turned back briefly to see that all the stones he stepped on continued to sink behind him. He turned forward, realizing that if there were going to be a fight, he would have to finish it quickly or it would end with him in the water at the mercy of whatever beasts lurked below. Fortunately, extra steps had risen in a second circle around the Tear, but the question now was whether that would be enough. A circle still connected the sanctuary platforms, and the new one sat fifteen or so feet inwards, connected by a short path extending from each sanctuary.

A gargantuan serpent rose out of the lake, water pouring off of its crest and its enormous teeth glinting in the low light. Iridescent scales cascaded all the way around its body, providing armor to the flesh underneath, and its head alone seemed the size of a city bus.

“Shit.”