Chapter 42.5: Whose Mercy
Josh Wall Josh Wall

Chapter 42.5: Whose Mercy

Falling to a knee and sucking air back into his lungs, Minkus suddenly heard and understood what the man had said. He spun to face the room, rubbing at his scorched chest. Whatever that prod had been designed to subdue, it wasn’t an asura. The shock from it had burned a ragged hole straight through the stolen uniform. If it hadn’t been for Minkus’ magic, first absorbing part of the blast and now streaming into him to heal the burn, he knew he wouldn’t be on his feet, if even conscious.

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Chapter 42.4: Converging Schemes
Josh Wall Josh Wall

Chapter 42.4: Converging Schemes

While Wepp made his way down the steps and along the northern wall of the room, Minkus leapt to the main floor and took off at a jog through the center of the chamber, glancing only long enough at each green tube to determine whether Ventyr or Yissa were inside it. At least, he tried to only glance at them.

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Chapter 42.3: Containment
Josh Wall Josh Wall

Chapter 42.3: Containment

Kikka and her companion continued toward them, and there was literally nowhere to go but past them. Even if there had been another side room to drop into, Minkus wasn’t certain Wepp could manage lateral movement; it was taking everything in him just to put one foot in front of the other. Wepp was doing a good job of keeping his eyes off Kikka, though, letting them wander from point to point on the ceiling or along the glossy floor-stones. Minkus too avoided too much eye contact with the pair. Jinkke, or even Penny would have chided him for shying away from eye contact with someone who didn’t even know him, but Minkus could feel Wepp’s anxiety creeping in beneath his own skin.

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Chapter 42.2: Incursion
Josh Wall Josh Wall

Chapter 42.2: Incursion

At the other end of Thaumacore’s eastern wing, Minkus stepped out of the sunlight, through the daunting front doorway, and into the main corridor of the complex. He tugged at the collar of his stolen Inquest uniform. Starched stiff and fitted to the slender guard he’d taken it from, the whole outfit pressed in on him like a crunchy, woolen sausage casing.

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