The three of them followed Vostock to the private suite. Vostock was more than happy to have more people to talk to, so much so that he insisted on paying for it himself. Said it was “research.” The golden-masked fellow plied them all with wine and drink. Tosh and Bors thought they could drink this man under the table, but the masked man continued to speak, ask questions, laugh, and drink as Bors’s and Tosh’s words grew more and more slurred. Before long, Tessa was deep in her cups and snoring softly on the table with Nix curled up in her jacket hood.

Tosh looked at the sleeping girl and shook his head. Such a youthful girl can’t hold her drink, but she is a marvel.

Vostock slammed down his tenth tumbler of blood gin and let out a contented sigh. “I wish to take you to my home. Please, Friend Bors, Friend Tosh? Bring the youth?”

Bors glared at Vostock. “Why? Why bring the girl?”

“If not, the temporal wave will make us lose her.”

“What?”

Vostock pulled out a thick disk. “If she doesn’t come, she will worry. She won’t know where we are, and we can’t have that. Do not worry, I have a portable transmat device here that will fit all of us. Coming?” he asked as he pushed a button on the thick disk without waiting for a reply.

Before any of them could say anything, there was a flash of light, and they were in a different place. Tosh felt a shift and was dragged to the floor.

“Where are we?” he asked, looking around.

“Why, my home,” Vostock said with a laugh. “The Home of the Nine Hammers of the Ram.”

Tosh was shocked by the sheer luxury of the palace the three found themselves in. “Sumptuous offerings” was a pale descriptor of the place. The walls were made of gold, and murals of strange animals and unknown alien planetary vistas adorned the walls, ceiling, and frescoes on the floor. Some were made with gems used as common art supplies. The food offered was more than he had been given when he was a youth in House du’Vaul, and even when he was with his father for a dinner party with one of the Twelve Families, the fare provided by Vostock and the rest of his Collective made the food from the Twelve Families taste like sterile air and food paste.

Upon arrival, Vostock was met by another masked and similarly adorned form. “Please, you must meet the others. This is Burble,” Vostock said, indicating the one who met them at the cavernous door to the complex. This one had a silver mask and green orbs for eyes.

“You are a strange one,” Burble said, the dark eyes of the mask falling first on Tosh. Moving forward with a mincing step, the form closed in on Tosh. When the figure was closer, Tosh detected perfume in the air. His family had traded in things like that before he left. The scent tickled Tosh’s brain, conjuring a memory of his mother kissing him on the cheek. “You’re such a beautiful young one, my little jewel,” she had said.

“Are you well?” Burble asked, leaning closer.

Tosh shook his head and focused on the mask. Since it was closer, he saw the silver was real, not some plated metal. Burble also had six fingers on each hand, with two thumbs that looked strange and alien, one on either side of the hand.

“What delineation are you?” Tosh asked.

“Why, my child, we are not descended from some common stock of near-humans. We are a pure strain. The trueform of Man!” Burble said with a laugh.

Tosh looked at the thumbs and shook his head. “I think otherwise.”

Bors coughed. Tosh looked over to see the large man shaking his head. He mouthed, “Too many.”

Tosh shook his head at the barbarian. He turned back to the masked person. “You can’t be pure human.”

“But we are. We have transcended,” the masked form said, the last few words a singsongy praise. The form made a gesture like a gesticulation to the roof.

Tosh turned his eyes upwards and saw more of the mural that had started in the antechamber. Before he could get a closer look, the form reached out to grab onto Tosh’s right arm. “You. You could be one of us as well.”

“How so?” Tosh asked.

The masked man chuckled. “Many ways.” A wicked grin mixed with the words made Tosh uneasy.

“Please, you must be tired from the journey. Shall we eat and rest?” Vostock asked, pulling Tosh closer to him, leading the three deeper into the complex.

“What do you do here?” Tessa asked. She looked a little nervous, and Nix was curled tight around her shoulder, his head snapping this way and that, tasting the air and giving disapproving hisses.

“We mostly think and ponder the ways of the universe,” Burble said from Tessa’s right. The girl shied away from Burble and Vostock. She kept close to Bors, and the barbarian extended an arm and hand for the youth to take, which she did with a thankful look.

“Yet, we met you—”

“Out and about, yes,” Vostock said, spinning around and clapping his hands. “I am the Seeker for the next few hundred years. I go out and seek those who might need help, or who seem interesting. Or will be fun company.”

“So, we’re here because we’re good company?” Bors asked.

Burble turned the silver mask toward Vostock. “Well, yes, someone will think you are fascinating company.”

“Come, you should speak to the head of our order.”

“Who?” Tosh asked.

Vostock turned mum, which Tosh thought was strange. He then watched as the hallways branched out again and again, some ending in staircases, others to what he thought were lifts. Once, he turned to see a group much like their own motley crew walking around a corner. He stopped and was about to ask what that was when Burble muttered, “Time dilation. Happens here sometimes.”

Tosh looked at them. “What?”

“We don’t have time,” Burble said. “The ceremony will start soon. The Head of the Order wishes to speak to you all before that.” She then looked at Tosh, and Tosh felt exposed and laid bare before those jade-colored orbs. He, too, moved a little closer to Bors.

A sound that started to rattle then thunder through the rich hallways picked up the deeper they went. Something in Tosh’s brain trembled at the sound, deep in the lizard brain. He cut a quick look to Tessa and Bors, seeing Tessa’s body flinch back and even Bors’ hand tremble as he touched his sword.

“Tell us again, why did you choose us, Vostock?” Tosh asked.

Vostock was more animated now than he had been since their arrival in the House of Nine Hammers of the Ram. He turned and grabbed Tosh by the arms. There was real strength in his hands. “I’m sent out to find people in need of help.”

“Desperation?” Tessa said.

“Something like that, child of the Gate,” Vostock said.

“How did you—”

Before she could respond, Burble cut in, “Quiet child.” She touched Tessa on the head, and she stopped talking, her eyes growing glassy. She began walking more like an automaton than a person.

Bors roared and tried to swing at Burble, but Vostock was at the large man’s side in the blink of an eye. He grabbed ahold of Bors’s arm and whispered something that sounded like, “Quiet.” The large barbarian calmed and started to move quietly along, much like Tessa.

Vostock and Burble turned their masked faces to Tosh. “I will go and won’t say anything,” Tosh said, holding his hands up. “No need for that.”

“Good,” they both said at once, and Tosh followed, dread roiling in his stomach.

“That’s a good ape,” Burble said.

Tosh was silent even at the jibe.

Following the pair of masked beings, Tosh found himself in a large-domed chamber with a half-dozen other masked forms. They all were about Vostock’s middling height, a few a little plumper and one or two skinny, robed folks. All had masks of different metals. The one Vostock approached wore a mask of something akin to silver, but there was a different luster to it.

“Leader, I present—”

The leader held up a hand. “You three come at a wondrous time. We were about to start the ritual. Questions are for after.”

Tosh was silent as the group of masked forms moved around an oblong table he hadn’t seen when he first entered the chamber. On the table was a woman, who could have been a copy of the woman from the Drumgag’s lair. She was chained by golden shackles at her wrists and ankles and stretched out spread-eagle in the center of the table. She was still as stone and covered by only a diaphanous green tinged gown.

“Why is she—”

“Relax. It’s for your own good,” Burble said. “She is a liar and a thief.”

Tosh didn’t know what to do. Bors and Tessa still looked glassy-eyed, and he didn’t think he’d get out without their help. So, he stayed and watched and waited.

The leader in the platinum mask threw up his hands, and the others did the same. Soon, there was a glow coming from the assembled group, not from their clothing but from their outstretched hands. It also came from the woman herself. The glow was joined by a low, guttural chant that came from Vostock and the others. It grew louder and louder in an odd echo that issued from the mouths of those around the table. A blue light started to come from the woman. She started moving, then her body went as stiff as a board. She rose from the table, her wrists and ankle cuffs straining to keep her from floating away. A rictus of pain was on her face.

The glow rose from her, and as the chanting grew louder and louder, the buzzing in Tosh’s head grew more and more intense. Tosh felt as though his skull had filled with wasps. It grew to a crescendo, and then all the sound left the room.

The glow, first as a trickle, then faster and faster, left the woman and entered the gathered people, though not Tosh, Bors, or Tessa. As the light left, the woman dropped to the table, flopping like a ragdoll. She gasped and cried, weakly mewling and coughing. “Please,” she gasped, turning to the masked forms. “Please release me. You can’t treat the Eye of Saturnalia this way.”

Tosh was stunned. A woman? We were sent to find a woman?

At that moment, Bors shook his head. “We have to do something, brother,” he said.

“What? They can easily destroy us,” Tosh said.

“Very true,” Vostock said. He gestured with his hand, and large, white ape-creatures appeared from the shadows, grabbing Tosh, Bors, and Tessa with ease. “Now, we will have to put you away for a time. Until you choose to either join the Collective or die.”