When Roy had first met the Governor, the man’s rheumy eyes had flashed at Dimestra’s plea to remain present in the room while Roy received the details of his assignment. Perhaps the Governor had hidden his shrewdness beforehand to seem unaware, but in truth, his insight was broader than Roy had known. Now he could see it for what it was: The Governor could somehow, and not by magical means,seesomeone grasping for power before they even moved a muscle. If not from sorcerous practices, then had he learned this talent from his predecessors, the previous Governors?
Percival glanced over a shoulder, silently bidding Roy to follow. He did, his tread slow, and his fear went with him.
They both rounded the corner, wisps of mist threading around their boots. The air was heavy with petrichor, lichen, and the substance that Roy had encountered in the last chamber. A narrow tunnel stretched before him, winding like a hollowed intestine. Golden candlelight and the long shadows cast by Roy and Percival shivered in tandem as though in some tenebrous waltz. As they passed through the tunnels, burnt orange light pierced the mist and illuminated the skeletons lying sprawled upon the earth. With each one he passed, unease twisted tighter and tighter around Roy’s stomach, cinching it closed. The dead watched him in the cold, grim quiet, damning all he’d accomplished, paltry though those accomplishments might be.
Cobblestone eventually gave way to gravel, which was, again, strewn with remnants of the fallen. It never seemed to cease. Bones lay scattered upon the ground, a trail leading into unhallowed territory. Femurs, ribs, and clavicles gathered among the mist, other bones jutting from the fog like shark fins rising above the ocean. It looked like a murder interrupted, some simple tragedy made messy and complex by unforeseen complications.
Roy couldn’t turn away, so terrified by yet oddly curious about the events that had transpired here. How long ago had this happened? How many people had been involved in this ambush? Was that what had occurred here? An ensnarement laid by a trespasser? A voyage into the dark gone awry?
These souls will find no release, Roy thought.No answers and no Above. This silence is their purgatory.
A dry hacking sound interrupted Roy’s musings.
Percival was hunched over, his back muscles straining through his tunic. He shivered, shadows fluttering along the slope of his neck and through his hair. His skin fluctuated between shades of sunset and relentless dark. He cleared his throat, and his breathing soon steadied into a healthy rhythm. Roy reached out, as if to pat him on the back or console him—he wasn’t quite sure himself—but pulled back, not sure if Percival would welcome such succor.
Instead he strode onward, but came to an abrupt stop himself when a burn crept through his chest like a wildfire. He coughed, his heart slamming against his rib cage. Skeins of dust shot out from his lips in bursts and trailed through the air in ribbons. He bore the pain for a moment, but it soon subsided.
He inhaled deeply, and like a dreamworld covering reality, the insides of Roy’s eyelids projected episodic visions, as had happened before. He saw green splotches of moss splayed over skulls and bones. He saw the mouths of blurred faces stretched out into screams which rippled and warbled, reverberating against the stone walls. He saw hundreds upon hundreds of scholars dead and dying, throats cut to the bone, fingernails torn and bloodied, widened eyes gouged and dangling from bleeding sockets.
And there was something far beyond, some spectral figure he couldn’t quite see.
Then the world rushed back to him, his vision distorting and bending at the corners. He bent over and grasped his knees, panting, pulling in deep breaths, only for bone-dust to catch in his lungs.
Roy coughed. “The visions, Percival... I can... I can see them now. They’re becoming clearer.”
“We might beseeingthe visions,” Percival said, “but they’re notshowingus anything. It feels more like a closer view of our surroundings, but nothing more.”
Roy shook his head. “No, there’s something about these new visions. I felt a pressure behind it, the same as within the walls. Some sort of force? I’m not certain. Maybe... Maybe that dust has something to do with it. I didn’t see the visions so vividly before as I did when I was coughing.”
If Percival registered that, he didn’t let on. “We’ll wait until we get deeper into the tunnel. That chamber can’t have been the only one down here. Share all the theories you like when we arrive someplace worthwhile.”
Footsteps sounded ahead of him, and Roy lifted his head from where he’d been bent over, clearing his throat, and saw that Percival had already walked on. He looked somewhat like a wraith in the gathering dark.
When Roy quickened his pace, Percival laughed. “I was wondering when you’d stop trailing behind me like a hound.”
“I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, please, you’ve been slavering for my attention since you caught me in that reading room. Thatwasthe look in your eyes, wasn’t it?”
“I was once convinced that you were arrogant and in need of a smaller ego, but I judged wrong. Perhaps all this time, throughout the entire game, you’ve just been delusional.”
“I’mthe pragmatist between the two of us, darling.” Percival pinched Roy’s cheek and shook it. “Don’t forget it.” Roy shoved him in the chest and Percival stumbled back, a wild grin stretching his lips. “Andyouare in denial.”
“Of what? Your self-obsession? Your infatuation and satisfaction with having made a game of our survival? Ofusingme only to further your own ends?”
Percival seemed a little flustered, his cheeks splashed with a deep red blush, but he only propped a hand on his hip and said, “By the Scribes, you’re no fun. Come on, darling. I’m here at your disposal. What other witty remarks have you prepared for me?”
“Even if I had any, I’m sure you’d find some way to knock them all down.” Roy smiled. “Or at least try to. So, if you would be so kind, I’d appreciate your silence on the matter.”
“Unfortunately, kindness is not in my repertoire.”
Roy rolled his eyes. “I could have told you that.”
He expected a sudden shift of behavior, a chink in Percival’s armor of good cheer, but he was as amused as before. “Not the most convincing remark, but I’ve heard worse. Mostly from you. And you may try to paint a different picture, but years of having a charming personality has won me great insight into others’ minds.” He winked. “And yours is clearer than a pane of glass.”
“What do you see, then, Percival?” Roy asked. He knew Percival wasn’t yet done donning his masks and hiding his past, even with the game over. But, in the darkness, Roy didn’t feel nearly as tense as he did in the library. He found himself envious of Percival’s ability to conceal himself at any given time. “What do youclaimto see?”
Percival regarded him sidelong, his mouth frozen in that unrelenting smirk. “A liar.”
