The Comfort Of The Knife

Technically our next stop was the Staircase on the outskirts of town. The area was far enough away to be called wilderness. A fact the trees, redwoods, reminded us of with their cyclopean nature. Wide as houses and tall as ten they still found a way to stand close together. It was why you couldn’t see the hill, or the sun. The Staircase was at the base of one of these trees. Where the roots formed a sort of arch beneath the stump. Dirt steps covered in moss descended down into its adumbral depths. A path from Realspace into the Underside.

“Huddle up, guys,” the crew lead called out. I pulled away from the entrance and hustled over the best I could. The Undersuits we wore were bulky. Modeled after Old World hazmat gear. Though these were a decided upgrade and the only way to guarantee a curse won’t attach itself to you. A fact enough of the crew took seriously to warrant everyone leaping into their suits. Just standing near the Staircase was enough to worry them.

“Since we have some new crew members with us I’m gonna ask y’all to pair up senior to junior.”

The seniors in the crew grumbled. The crew lead shouted back, “Hey, we all had our first descent. We’re only here cause we had seniors keep our dumbasses alive. Now pair up.”

Despite their grumbling, this wasn’t a surprise to any of them. There were always folks who joined up with a hunter crew. Most were highschoolers like myself—too broke to pay for capture and no inheritance to make summoning easy. This would likely be our first and last descent. The rest of them were legacies most likely. Eager to descend and be baptized into the life.

Unlike everyone else here, I hadn’t realized I’d be joining up until a few days ago. Happened after I combed over the entire house and didn’t find a single circle left for me. Between that and the lack of money, whatever Dad’s plans were had died with him. As such I stood there like I was caught in the nude while strolling home. Astonished at the speed with which I became the odd woman out.

“Temple, you’re with me,” the woman from earlier said. She didn’t look happy about it, but not really sad either. Just kind of bored.

“Sure. What do I call you?”

“Any chance it can be Boss Lady?” she asked.

“None.”

She circled me, a dog intrigued by something new.

“Is there a problem?” I asked.

“Only that Undersuits don’t have enough room for you to have a ladder up your ass,” she said.

“What happened to it being a stick?”

“I know, it’s a classic. But you’re not typical now are you. You need a whole ladder up in there to feel something.”

I groaned and she smirked up at me. I glanced over to the other hunters who held back chuckles from the routine she had pulled me into.

I said, “What happened to showing sympathy?”

“Must have misplaced it in the same spot you left yours. Maybe the Knitcroft girl can help us.”

I pushed her aside and went to grab our kit. She hounded me with the quiet refrain of a chicken’s squawks. Kept it up until our kit was in hand. Then she was all business and took off to join the crowd reforming.

One of the kit team stopped me. “Hey, Amber can be so annoying you’d think it was her Court. Just, don’t mind it because out of everyone here she’s the best hunter. Stay close to her and you’ll stay safe.”

“Thanks,” I said before I went after her. When I neared her I asked, “Amber, how’s the kit looking?”

The Undersuit’s helmet perfectly framed her scowl. “Not cool Derrick,” she called out to the guy who spilled the secret of her name. She looked back to me, “Kit’s good. Our phones should work once we’re down below—you do have a phone right?”

I reached into my suit pouch and pulled out the sorc-deck that was often my “phone” and “computer.” It’d been all but useless since the temple burned down.

“Damn, daddy didn’t believe in keeping you up to date huh?”

My fists clenched at my sides, but she didn’t care and just continued on.

“When we’re down there we’ll sync to whatever will be our comms channel. You should already know the crew one. Rest of the kit is standard. Four water pouches to attach to our suits, twelve binding capsules, a security shrine, and a map from the territory survey done yesterday.”

She closed the backpack that held our kit. Then threw out her hand for me to help her up. Amber groaned the entire time. Blamed it on her “elderly bones,” and tossed me an expectant look in hopes I’d dispute. She was as attractive as the moon. Possessed by a gravity that made you sneak glances her way and pulled you into her bullshit.

A teasing smile crossed my face as I gave her nothing. We both knew it was the tax for her “jokes” and joined the growing line.

While we had arrived in one van, the entirety of the hunter crew spanned at least five of them. Smaller crews from smaller towns and some that were more itinerant in operation. The desire for safety and general etiquette kept conflict minimal despite the motley we had. Our crew lead—and thus the lead for everyone in assembly—took his spot just to the side of the Staircase.

“Everyone, we’ll be descending now. As you pass onto the Staircase you’ll be given the target list. We’ll be down there for the day and meet back up at basecamp the following morning. Wish you all luck hunting, and may we all ascend back to the Real.”

“May we all ascend,” the crowd called back.

The line moved relatively apace. When we were handed our target list I snatched it before Amber could get her hands on it. Flipped through it until I spotted Melissa’s name—technically her family’s name. I traced my finger from it to the target entity, a symbiosnake. All of her family bonded to them starting out. Rather fitting, a safe choice for safe people. I hadn’t expected anything else of Melissa.

“Head in the game, Temple. We’re going down,” Amber said, her elbow jabbed into my side.

I folded the list until it could hide in my palm. Then, lockstep with Amber, I set foot on the Staircase. It was. . . softer than expected. Had a sort of marshmallow quality to it. I took my next step, then another, and another. With each one my hesitancy was brushed aside to reveal a dirty sort of disappointment.

There was reverence and terror at the way people talked about Staircases. Unlike entities which had become mundane, these still lurked beyond the light of knowledge having claimed the deeds of Old World myths for themselves. They wore the raiment of fairy circles, hell mouths, and the bifrost. You could stand on one and learn the entirety of how Real and Conceptual space interacted. It was even said that sometimes you would see someone ascending or descending from another point in time.

“How’d you get on this hunt, Temple?” Amber asked.

I said, “My mom and dad used to go on hunts with these guys. Offered me a spot once they heard about what happened. Didn’t have any other options.”

Amber hmm’d softly in response. The endless darkness we walked in caught the sound and buried it. Made the Staircase hum with a deep vibration that snuck up your bones. Resonated with all the disappointment you buried inside. It took us thirty minutes to reach the Underside

***

When we arrived, I realized that all the magic I wanted in the Staircase was found here. As darkness gave way to light my eyes grew in astonishment. The trees here dwarfed the ones in Realspace. Unbound by physics—by anything Real—they had ascended beyond something as simple as the word, “tree.” The bark had curtained the horizon and any canopy was unseen. Gave way to a darkness, a Gloom, that would brook not even the memory of light. My vision became crimson and my cheeks moistened. I knew it would be doom to dare myself to see for the underpinning of sight was light—no, was Star? Could these marry—

My head snapped to the side and my eyes shuttered. The only dark I perceived was the pitiful black of closed eyes. I gripped my head to take hold of sense and righted myself.

“Fuck, Amber, that hurt,” I spat.

She nodded with glee. “Good. If it didn’t we’d have a problem. Now, look at me.”

I opened my eyes. They stung. Amber’s face became the totality of my vision. She operated my head this way and that in examination. Drew backwards to present me a thumbs up.

“Good news, your sclera are still white, your pupil is still a circle, and your blood is already drying.” I stared at her in confusion. She shook her head, “And here I heard you were a good student, Temple. They’re the Three Tests for Underside exposure.”

I pushed past her. I wouldn’t let her luxuriate in the win. Unfortunately she walked fast.

“Body, Mind, Condition. Fail any of them and it’s suggested you be hustled back into Realspace or Realspace-like conditions. Which, if this was a full on hunter company, we could provide the latter. If you get exposed then you’re done,” Amber intoned.

I whirled to face her, my face hot and teeth bared. She smirked amusedly.

“Finally got that ladder loosened. How’s it feel to connect with an actual person, again?” she asked.

It made no sense to me. My heart rate fell and my anger cooled.

“I’m not going to be a risk to you,” I said. “Just, let me do my job.”

Amber’s face fell. I didn’t know why my request hurt her.

“It’s not—okay. Quick way to avoid Underside exposure by way of sanity degradation. Blink.”

I did. Her lids shuttered fast as a journo’s camera. “A lot,” she added. “If you blink you can’t stare. Can’t stare then you can’t try to understand. If you can’t try to understand then you avoid comprehension. Don’t stare at anything. Even if you think you saw something strange. Especially if you think you saw something strange.”

We padded down toward basecamp. The ground was an uneven mass of interwoven roots the size of trains. A trait that had me look away before I attempted to understand anymore. Most of the crew was scattered off on the hunt already. Amber gestured at the backpack.

“Grab the map. You’re navigating,” she said.

I scrounged it out from beneath the water packs. Wiped away some of the condensation. Unfolded and pinned it with my fingers to Amber’s back.

“Try to find a direction that’ll let us capture the most targets,” she instructed.

My eyes roamed the map and I took in the sheer variety within even this local slice of the Underside. While the dominant Court that set the territory was Cultivation, the Spring Court, in every direction were localized territories belonging to a myriad of Courts—including Mutation, the Court the symbiosnake belonged to.

My heart’s sails tilted angle and thoughts of Melissa caught them. Feeling billowed out in me—hurt billowed out of me. The Court of Mutation’s territory was Northeast; far out of the way with very little overlap to other Courts. I warred with myself; one side intent to turn from her—sparing her the corruption of my presence. The other, hungry for her every smile and flayed by every tear. I had promised her.

“We’re headed Northeast,” I declared. Amber turned her head and ran her gaze over me. Examined my decision for the hair thin crack of self-doubt. Then shrugged.

“So we are,” she said.

***

I set a hard pace for us. We were behind the other crews and I couldn’t let Amber—for all she annoyed me—suffer too much in loss of captures just so I could honor a tossed away promise. We walked until the roots gave way to cerulean waters the color of the sky. Rode its unseen currents on a barque formed from clouds.

Soon though our cloud ship began to curve brushing a flower field. Amber interlocked her arm with mine and we leaped from the ship into the field. We plummeted further than I expected—the flowers were taller than me. As we traveled the field the flower’s petals fell down in a pleasant rain and wilted before they touched ground. While the flowers above bloomed anew.

We were forty cycles before the field gave way to a gargantuan yonic tunnel of double-helixed vines, the entrance to Mutation. I stood on the cusp and marveled at the undulations of the vines.

“Temple,” Amber said. My eyes flicked to her. “Check the map.”

I blinked my eyes and unfurled the map.

“Path has us set through Wanderlust and Rebirth to reach here,” I said.

She quirked her brow, “Reach here?”

“It’s a good boundary spot. We have some targets here and then catch what we need on the way back,” I said.

She gave way to my hurried passing. Called to my back, “That’s some efficient thinking, Temple.”

I throttled the map in my fist. She didn’t have to twist the knife if she knew. Not that she knew, but Amber would look at me as if she did. Her eyes would twitch from my lips to my eyes. Then they’d crinkle with the joy one had in finding a novel sentence in a book. She acted like I was so readable that it didn’t matter if I actually was.

When we left the humid tunnel we emerged out onto a cliff face that gave us sight of the writhing labyrinth below. Laid out like entrails the walls would bloat into the shape of buildings before deflating back into an amorphous barrier of meat. The map had named the territory, the Shifting City. An understatement.

As we descended the cliffside path, Amber chose that moment to reveal her entity. She formed her hand-spell, inflated her cheeks, and blew. It didn’t matter that technically her breath couldn’t escape the airtight seal of the Undersuit. She had performed the motions and invoked the Concept behind them. A cloud of butterflies spiraled into open air just off the path. Conjured from nothing, they clumped en masse and from within their overlapping wings peeked two eyes the color of lime juice.

Amber continued walking. “This is Nahey,”

“A pleasure,” I said. To which the clump of butterflies tittered ever so softly.

Amber glanced back at me mischievously. “Oh Temple, to seduce someone’s entity is scandalous.”

I chuckled and passed her. She looked after me with bemusement.

When we reached street level Amber settled to the ground. She removed the security shrine and propped it up.

“Nahey is going to scout for us,” Amber said. At that, Nahey took off.

I asked, “What about us?”

Amber cast the hand-spell to activate the shrine. A translucent egg of force grew around us.

“We get to know each other,” she said.

“Do we have to?”

“No, but would you rather silence for potentially hours while we wait?”

I removed the counselor’s compendium from my own backpack and resumed reading. Amber huffed. She huffed every time I turned the page. Her gaze assailed my forehead. I made it two chapters.

“What do you want to know?” I asked.

Amber’s mouth split into a cat’s grin. “What are you here to hunt?”

I tried to return to the book. She yanked it from my hands. My eyes returned to where she had been, and I blinked. Forced my eyes to face her where she was.

“I don’t know.”

She dropped into a squat. Head balanced on her knees. Our eyes equal.

“Interesting. Did you know before he died,” she asked.

“Yes.”

“What was it?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Try.”

There was no mirth in face. Her lips were but a plush line held taut. I would find no slack in this endeavor. So I tried, and found the tips of my conscious mind graze a barrier I hadn’t seen. You couldn’t see this kind of block. Could only find it when forced against it like she had done to me. Pressed as I was, I realized it wasn’t completely solid. There were holes and cracks. A keyhole through the pain.

“A thought-fish,” I answered. My mind pulled away from the wall and my cheeks felt moist. “Are my eyes bleeding again?”

Amber shakes her head. She had her hand on mine.

“Remembrance. You wanted to be a researcher?”

“I did.”

“You still can,” she said. I believed her. When the smirks were gone and the trickster sparkle of her eyes dimmed you would too. The magic she held over me was softer than sorcery. It was comfort and permission. I could let go—

A screech ripped through the air. My hand leapt from beneath hers and the warmth cooled. All around us the flesh-structures of the labyrinth deflated. Gas and fluids evacuated in a wet screech from an alien throat. Our eyes were still locked. I could still see the way she had proposed. I blinked instead and found my feet.

“That option burned down with the temple. I’m looking for other ones.”

Amber nodded and flipped through the compendium. She noted my dog-eared pages, and followed the trail of my thoughts.

“Options like Rot? Or maybe Virtue, Tyrants, Sacrifice, Glory, or Upheaval? Good luck on finding your way to the last one,” she said before she tossed the book back to me.

She pointed. “Those are the kind of Courts someone looks at when they want to kill a motherfucker.”

“My teacher is bonded to a Tyrant entity. Keeps great classroom order,” I said. Amber scoffed at the fragility of my rebuttal.

“Fine. Is that what you’re hunting for, a way to teach?” she asked.

“No. And I don’t want to kill one motherfucker, I wanna kill five.” My body shuddered from letting go of the burden of secrecy. Still, I held her gaze.

“If you think it’s right, why struggle to admit it?” she asked.

I sneered. “Cause people like you can’t handle me saying it. The same way my teachers can’t handle me sitting there. I’m tainted by death.”

“And seek to deal it,” she added. “Temple, most of us adults lived through the Changeover. We’re all tainted by death as we saw to the murder of the Old World. We can handle it. What we can’t handle is seeing a child born to a peace unimaginable seek it out. They don’t want to be there when you find it.”

I stormed over to Amber to leverage what few inches I had on her.

“If not me, then who?” I asked.

“Who what?”

“Who avenges my dad?”

She didn’t look away when she asked me this. “Does he deserve to be avenged?”

Nahey tittered quietly. I had my fist raised but it hadn’t fallen yet. Just hung there—quivering, frozen—undecided. My body moved slowly as I refamiliarized myself with its control. I drew back from Amber.

“What did Nahey find?” I asked.

“She said she found a castle of some sort in the center of the labyrinth,” Amber answered. “Apparently it’s not shifting.”

“Meaning it’s not Mutation,”

“And not on the map.” Amber grumbled, “Don’t seek out unknown Courts in summoning or in hunting, advice number one.”

“Everything known was once unknown. Can Nahey lead us there?”

Amber twirled her finger and Nahey took off toward the castle. We followed close behind. We made lefts at pagodas, rights at pueblos, and cut through a gap a wall made by five fleshy yurts lined up entrance to entrance. The castle came into view not long after. It was a Gothic thing sporting a hundred golden fleches that dripped down the castle walls like dollops of melting wax. These light-catching lines framed windows of kaleidoscopic glass. Which split the light emanating from within to create a localized rainbow that stained the world in its colors.

I was yanked back behind its boundary by Amber.

“You can see enough from here,” she said.

I shook my arm free. “What if our target’s inside?”

Amber narrowed her eyes. “We passed a nest of symbiosnakes on the way here. If you care about our target then we turn back.”

“What if the thing I’m hunting for is in there?”

“You don’t know what you’re hunting for.”

I turned back to the castle. My heart beat a furious melody. There was no sensible reason to enter. We didn’t know the Court and thus we didn’t know the dangers. Yet I yearned all the same. An ominous portent in hindsight.

Before I could answer, it emerged from another part of the labyrinth. Something fleshy like a salamander. Plates ran along its spine as if an armadillo. It scurried atop fifty pairs of legs. While its face was skink-like and dotted by six tar-black eyes that wept endlessly.

“A lindwurm,” Amber spoke softly. The entity, the lindwurm, was sensitive to its own name. She swung us out of sight as its head rose to give a half-hearted once over of the area. We heard it leave—its walk the refrain of a platoon at march—and only when the echo died did we move.

I flipped through the compendium to find whatever that was. Amber lowered my arms.

“You won’t find it. It’s not on the Public Record.”

I asked, “Then how do you know what it is?”

She glared at me. “How do you know?” I asked again.

“Changeover. Watched a cult use five of those shits to poison a river down to its ontological foundation. Far as I know it never got cleaned.”

I stared at her in awe. “You saw them make the Black Vein?”

“Eh, it’s not a big deal. Everyone saw something historic in those days. Though back then it was just traumatic.” Amber glanced toward me and scowled. A cruel smile had wiggled across my face. It was rude not to listen—adults rarely spoke about their memories of the changeover—but my mind was busy imagining my dad’s killers weeping tar-black tears from behind their masks.

“What Court is it?” I asked.

“Desecration,” she answered.

My tongue ran across my lips. The taste of the word was smooth and cold. Two perfect traits for what would be the method by which I exacted revenge.

“Amber, I’m going to hunt the lindwurm,” I said. She watched—probably in horror—as I raced into the castle intent on making its power my own.