Chapter Thirty
Yun
I stared at the heart, something inside of me drawn to move closer.
A hand wrapped around my arm, stopping me, forcing me to break the one-sided staring contest to find Corsa there.
“Not again,” he said softly. “You won’t pull the same trick twice.”
“So why set up near the heart?”
“Because this is where the dungeon is strongest. This is the place where I should be.” He sighed, then shook his head. “You don’t understand because you haven’t seen.”
“I’ve seen more than enough,” I reminded him. “I was here for six months.”
“Yes, but I was still learning this place back then. I didn’t understand the depth of the world here, the reality behind it all.
Corruption plays with a person’s mind, and while you saved me from that, it took a great deal of time to truly understand how The Pitt works—well, how any of the dungeons work.
Come on, let me show you where you’ll stay. ”
I wanted to yank away, but I knew better. There was no reason to fight a grip I couldn’t loosen. Better to bide my time, to wait for a better opening.
We only walked about twenty feet before we came to a clearing with…a house? I blinked, staring at the structure, not understanding what I was seeing.
This wasn’t a house that had been dragged here from our world. Instead, it appeared more like a cabin—rustic and small. In fact, it reminded me of what Kenyon had said about his cabin, about the place in the mountains he’d wanted to take me.
A pang in my chest hit so hard I tried to ignore it.
“What is this?” I asked.
“Our home. I realized once you were gone that I couldn’t expect you to remain sleeping in the dungeon on the ground. I knew we would meet again, that you would come back to me, so I spent time to ensure we would have a proper home.”
I blinked slowly, looking at the thing, struggling to make sense of it. It made me laugh, the sound uneasy. “We aren’t here playing house. You think this is going to make a difference? A fucking cage is still a cage, no matter what you make it look like.”
He shrugged as though he didn’t really care.
“If you want to sleep on the dirt, you’re free to.
However, I’ve ensured that the beasts in this area will trail you and keep you from approaching the heart, or traveling far from right here.
I don’t see a point in harming yourself by refusing a comfortable bed and home, but that’s still your choice to make. At least come inside to see it.”
I didn’t want to step foot inside that house. Partly because Corsa had made it and I was petty, partly because it felt like accepting my life here, and partly because I didn’t want to be closed in anywhere with him.
Still, I heard Carter in my head, reminding me to look for opportunities, to look for weaknesses. Better I know what I had at my disposal in general, so I didn’t agree verbally, but I went to the door.
There was no lock on the handle, but why would there be? It wasn’t like he had to worry about being robbed. The hinges squeaked as I pushed the door open, the inside brighter than I would have expected.
It had no true windows, though there were long slits at the top of the walls, above where I could see or easily reach, probably for air flow.
They lacked glass, which explained the ash that rested on the surfaces inside.
There was a table and a bed, both made from twisted branches that resembled what was found in The Pitt, but not exactly.
“Who made all this?” I asked. The Corsa I’d known hadn’t given a damn about making anything, and from what I’d heard from my squad, he hadn’t had the skills before he’d been corrupted.
It had been a long time, but I couldn’t imagine him practicing during those years. In fact, I’d purposely ignored the idea that he’d been here all those ten years, partly because I couldn’t imagine surviving it myself.
“Someone I know.”
I turned to find him in the doorway, my eyebrow lifting. “How do you know people? You’re stuck in a dungeon…”
“Again, there is a lot you don’t know. Don’t worry—you’ll learn. You will see the doorways that appear, the connection between here and there.”
“A portal? I’ve seen it, and up until I got sucked in here, I was there in the other world.”
Corsa shook his head. “No. You know our world, but there’s another. Have you really never realized that the dungeons are nothing but the collision of two worlds?”
“Everyone knows that.”
“No. I don’t mean our world and the dungeon. There is another world, one that exists entirely outside of ours. Dungeons occur when the two collide, when they impact each other. They can’t actually exist in the same space, so a dungeon is created, a twisted mixture of the two.”
I just stared at him, wondering if this was all just some fantasy his mind had concocted to make sense of a world that just didn’t make sense. I’d seen people do that before, seen them lie to themselves so easily if it helped them endure the insanity of life.
Except, something about the way he spoke, about the materials the cabin was made of, it all kept me from fully discounting him.
“You’ll see,” he said, tone condescending, like he knew the truth but understood I was too stupid to accept it—yet.
“Until then, there is food in that cabinet above the sink. It doesn’t need to be cooked, but if you must warm something, use the dish above that.
” He gestured at a crystal near the corner, one I’d glanced over without noticing.
It was the size of a chair, dim, but glowing faintly now that I looked at it. I moved closer to find heat escaping it. It wasn’t strong, not like a fire, but the subtle heat warmed the entire cabin.
“What is this?” I asked.
“A power source from the other world. It’ll keep the cabin warm, but if you set one of those plates on it, it will transfer more heat there to warm the food. Don’t touch it, however.”
I yanked my hand back. “Why?”
“It can burn. It’s mostly safe, but it can flare from time to time.” He twisted his head, looking toward the wall as though he could see farther. Lines appeared in his expression, annoyance there. “I’ll return. Stay here.” He didn’t wait for an answer, the door closing behind him as he left.
I waited only a few minutes before cracking the door and peering outside.
No sign.
I slipped outside, the area quiet. He’d gone somewhere, but he’d done the same thing before as well. He hadn’t spent all day by my side, and I’d rarely seen him other than when he’d needed me.
It surprised me that he hadn’t demanded guiding yet.
After ten years, I would have thought he’d jump right on that, but he hadn’t.
It bothered me, because I wasn’t na?ve enough to think that implied something better.
I didn’t think it meant he was going to leave me be or respect my choices.
Instead, it felt like I knew something far worse was headed my way.
The draw from before hadn’t left me, either, so I headed toward the heart. Nothing else seemed to move around me, no sign of the guards he’d claimed were there. The trees thinned and broke into a clearing that had the heart.
It reminded me of how I’d fallen asleep right here so many times.
It hadn’t drawn me in as it did now, but it had been the only landmark I’d had back then.
Once the portal had closed, when Corsa had moved me away from the buildings there, there had been only trees and ash and the dark sky.
This one location had given me a sense of place.
“It’s the same,” I whispered to myself. Already I wondered if I was losing my mind, like I was preparing the idea of being locked here by myself for so long.
The opening was only around twelve feet across, the soft soil showing no signs of footprints, nothing to imply anyone or anything walked through it.
In the center was a raised stone platform, gray and pristine, like nothing had ever touched it.
So much in the dungeon seemed ash covered and ancient, but not that.
On top of the stone was the heart, floating there just above the platform, though it did look slightly different. It still shone, appearing like obsidian, but now a crack ran through it.
Had I done that? By touching it, had I actually cracked the thing?
I thought back to the intense pain, to the way it had scrambled all my senses. I didn’t remember it cracking, but what did I know? Everything had been so overwhelming that I could have easily missed it.
I took one step toward it, then another.
I paused when I realized what I was doing. I wouldn’t discount picking the same way out again, especially if things went as they had before, but I couldn’t do that yet. I had no idea what touching it would do this time.
What if it destroyed The Pitt? I couldn’t risk the espers who were trapped inside, the civilians still hoping for rescue, or my squad.
No, if I saw no other way out again, I’d grasp that heart as tightly as I had the last time. I doubted it would save me a second time, but I’d take whatever it gave out.
Just not until the portal closed, until I knew my men were free and clear of this place. After that? Well, I didn’t much care what happened to this nightmare or me. Maybe the best thing for everyone was to hope another swing destroyed the dungeon so it could never harm another person again.
Corsa’s warning struck me again. Was he just mad?
Another world? One I’d never heard of? It didn’t seem possible, but I couldn’t deny it, either. I knew better than to think the Guild would tell us everything, that they didn’t have their own secrets.
Still, it struck me as too fantastical, too different from what I’d understood.
My foot moved before I wanted it to, before I even realized I’d taken a step, bringing me into the open clearing and toward the heart.
I won’t touch it, I repeated in my head. I just needed to see it closer, see if I felt any different about it, if I could sense the energy from it.
Except before I could take a second step, a beast larger than Spot or Pear came down in front of me from the sky, its huge wings spread out, larger than the length of my body, its clawed feet sinking into the dirt in front of me.
I stumbled backward, hitting a tree behind me that kept me upright.
The monster didn’t continue, didn’t come at me, but its snarl said it wouldn’t allow me any closer.
Well, it seems Corsa told the truth about that at least.
I wasn’t going to be getting anywhere near the heart anytime soon.