Chapter 3: Part 10 - Recompense

Jean had never seen anything like the golden city of Tarir. It was a glittering, extraordinary monument in the middle of the thickest, most inhospitable jungle. It soared to the very heights of his imagination, seemingly beyond anything human hands could build.

It was also completely deserted.

They had no way to know for certain that the game was leading them this way. According to Gullveig, though, there was little else of note in this part of the jungle. Tarir would surely appeal to Yinn's sense of grandiosity, making it the most obvious choice to end the round.

The great gates to the north had been wide open; there was no-one to stop them as Roan led the way inside. A maze of rooms and stairways lay beyond, threaded with gleaming watercourses and studded with jewelled panes of glass. It was simultaneously the eeriest and most beautiful place Jean had ever seen.

The centre of the city didn't change that first impression. Tarir was incredible, but it was also unnerving. Too big, too silent, too... everything.

"There's someone there." Vasha had been walking at Roan's side. Now she raised one hand, but it shook so much that she quickly lowered it again. Jean's chest constricted in sympathy, but he kept his distance. His efforts to comfort Vasha, however well-intentioned, seemed only to have unsettled her more.

The creature she'd pointed at was some distance away, a floating golden sentinel every bit as silent as the rest of the city. Jean saw multiple hands dart towards weapons, but the creature ignored them.

"They're called Exalted." That was Gullveig. She hadn't armed herself, unless you counted the dagger she hadn't put down once since they left their camp in the jungle. It was a tiny sliver of a thing, but Jean had no doubt she could do serious damage with it. "They protect the city."

"Dangerous?" Roan asked on a growl.

Gull shrugged, shifting the weight away from her injured leg. "Isn't everything, out here? They're not hostile, though, as far as I know."

"They used to be human," Auri put in. Her voice, quiet and dreamlike as ever, made Jean shudder. He suddenly found he didn't want to know about these Exalted, or Tarir, or anything else in this strange place. The whole city felt too much like a tomb.

"There should be researchers," Gull said, taking a few limping steps forward. "The asura love this place. You can't spend time in Rata Sum without hearing rumours about Tarir."

"Another one of Yinn's games, then," Vasha said. "Everywhere we go, he hides the ordinary inhabitants from us. He might have done the same here."

Abruptly, Marissa pushed past her, stopping at the front of their group with her hands on her hips. "There's no mesmer magic here, at least not on a grand scale. Tarir is every bit as deserted as it looks."

"How can you be sure?" Vasha asked.

Marissa turned a look on her that was pure distaste, making Jean wince. Even now, they were determined not to like one another. "Because I'm getting a taste for Yinn's magic and there isn't any of it here. As for the little rat himself... He'll have his disguises, no doubt."

"We're not here for Yinn," Roan said. He gestured to the open plaza with a swipe of one claw. "Spread out. This key's got to open something."

Jean was sure he made no attempt to move closer to Vasha; nevertheless, there she was, only a few feet from him as the group drifted apart. She stared at him for a moment, then moved off across the grass. She didn't complain as Jean followed.

"Did you talk Marissa into coming after us?" she asked, once they were out of earshot of everyone else.

Jean watched one of the Exalted float soundlessly past, apparently paying them no heed. "It was a joint decision."

Vasha's laugh sounded strained. "Really? That doesn't sound like your family."

"Marissa wants to honour our alliance," he said, which were the only words he could think of that wouldn't sound like a lie. "Of course, she wants to win the game, too..."

"But she wants to get one over on Yinn even more."

"That's about the shape of it. But we all want to win. We wouldn't be here otherwise."

Vasha's mouth twisted. "I wanted the same, when we started. Now... I'm starting to think playing for survival is the better option."

"You could walk away," Jean said, but it was half-hearted. There was something about this game that had got under everyone's skin. Even when it was no longer about winning, they couldn't back out. Marissa wanted to beat Yinn, Jean himself wanted to stay close to Vasha, and Vasha... Maybe she felt she had something to prove.

"Do you think we're the only ones left?" she asked.

"The only team? How can we be?" Even as Jean spoke, though, he wondered at his own optimism. Tarir remained deserted; if there were other teams on their way, they were far behind. Could the jungle have wiped them all out? Would Yinn let the situation get so dire? If it drove the Valparis and the Marauders into direct competition again, Jean couldn't help thinking that he would.

A shout drew his attention away from Vasha, back to where the others were gathering on the far side of the plaza. Vasha was gone before he could stop her. Those shared moments of danger in Timberline Falls felt like a lifetime ago. The closeness he'd hoped this alliance would bring them... Maybe, if the wildlife stopped trying to kill them, there'd be time to talk – or maybe Vasha was determined never to let her guard down again.

Jean was the last to reach the group. Marissa had both hands in the air; she seemed to have just dispelled some kind of illusion.

"More of Yinn's tricks," she said in distaste, as the air shimmered and cleared.

Roan grunted. "Says the mesmer. Your kind are all the same."

Marissa didn't dignify that with a response. Instead, she bent to run her hands over the newly revealed chest. It was about the length of Jean's forearm, plain and scratched. It was also quite clearly out of place in glittering Tarir.

Marissa straightened. "There are no more spells. It appears to be safe to open."

"Says the mesmer," Roan repeated, but he was already pulling a key from around his neck. It looked tiny and delicate in his massive paw, but he fitted it into the lock with perfect finesse. There was a click as the key turned, another as the chest's lid popped up – and then silence, as they all stared at the contents.

"How underwhelming," Marissa said.

Jean had to agree. The chest was lined in sapphire velvet, but all it held was a single scroll. Was this really what they'd trudged all the way across the Silverwastes for? Scores of Mordrem, the Labyrinth, risking their lives at every step – for a piece of paper?

Roan picked it up, a snarl rumbling from his chest as he scanned the contents. "Riddles."

"They must be clues to the next round," Vasha said. She had one of the game's invitation cards in her hand, which flashed with the same bland message they'd seen before. HERE ENDS ROUND THREE! PLEASE RETURN TO RATA SUM FOR FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS. Jean wasn't sure whether to feel disappointed or relieved.

"Clues that we'll be taking." Marissa held out a hand to Roan. "I think we can all agree that's the fairest course."

Jean's breath caught in his throat. Surely they could make it back to Rata Sum before they had this discussion. Besides, couldn't riddles be shared? If Marissa pressed the matter now, they were all going to be at one another's throats–

Roan folded his arms, the scroll sticking out past his elbow. Violence seemed to simmer just below the surface of him, coiled around muscle and bone. "Why should we agree to anything?"

Marissa's extended hand didn't waver. "Because to save your sorry behinds from the Mordrem, we gave up any chance of retrieving our own key. We sacrificed our position in the game for the sake of your lives. I think that deserves recompense."

"And because if it comes to a fight, only one team is well-rested, uninjured, and likely to win," Oska added. He had a dagger in his hand that Jean hadn't seen him draw. "Though I'm sure Yinn's clients would love to see you try."

Jean held up a hand. "Why don't we all just–"

"Fine." Roan's voice snapped through the tension like a steel trap closing. His gaze was fixed on Marissa. "But after this, we're even."

"Of course," Marissa said, with a smile. "Until we save your lives again."

Roan's lip curled, but he handed over the scroll. "Don't count on it."

"Well, well, well. Isn't this a pretty picture."

It took Jean a moment to place the voice. At the unnerving realisation that everyone was looking behind him, he spun – and there was Yinn, resting on his cane, a look of sour displeasure on his face.

"You're not real," Jean said, the words slipping out before he could think of something wittier. "I mean, you're not really here."

Yinn glared at him, then seemed to decide not to address such a trifling matter. He was here, Jean realised. This wasn't another illusion. "I'm a little disappointed you haven't torn each other apart yet. The Mordrem came close, I suppose, but that's just not the same."

"What are you doing here?" Roan asked, a hulking presence at Jean's shoulder.

Before Yinn could answer, Vasha had pushed her way to the front of the group, hands on her hips. "This round was supposed to be about problem-solving, wasn't it? Or are your minions feeding lies to any team who'll listen?"

Yinn's eyes narrowed, but he looked almost amused by the accusation. "Teams who seek to circumvent the rules will always face penalties," he said.

Marissa gave a dry laugh. "And yet here we are: penalty-free and a perpetual thorn in your side."

Yinn chose to ignore her. "As for problems..."

Jean didn't miss the way Yinn's gaze flicked deliberately from Marissa to Roan. Were their own team leaders the problems they'd needed to solve all along? Jean was well aware that if he hadn't stood up to his sister, this round would have ended very differently. Perhaps Roan had been equally troublesome.

"In the interests of full disclosure," Yinn went on, "I'd intended said problems to cause you more difficulties. I hadn't expected any of the participants in this game to be so... diplomatic. You seem to have settled matters quite satisfactorily, though."

His gaze fixed on the scroll in Marissa's hands. Jean's heart sank. Yes, they'd shown remarkable diplomacy to get this far, forging an alliance that Yinn had never anticipated – but how much longer could that endure? The single prize at the end of each round would always force them to choose a single winner. Next time they needed to cooperate, they'd hesitate, perhaps long enough to get them all killed.

Yinn tapped his cane on the ground, apparently satisfied by the way they were all eyeing one another warily. "You have your orders. Return to Rata Sum. I'm sure the rest of the teams will be along shortly."

Those that had survived, anyway. Jean looked uneasily towards the grand gates of Tarir. The city was still suspiciously quiet. If there were indeed other teams on the way, the jungle itself seemed to be causing them plenty of 'difficulties'.

A hand touched his shoulder and he turned to find Auri, gazing off in the same direction. "The Mordrem hunger for destruction," she said, almost in a whisper. "Only the fiercest prey will survive."

Jean shuddered. He was perfectly ready to leave this damned jungle and never come back. Auric Basin wasn't the only place rife with predators, though. One of these days, Yinn was going to show his talons – and like the teams still out there, not all of them would survive.