A huge splash of cold water struck Ash square in the face. He lurched upright, sputtering, and turned to find Paul standing over him with an empty bucket and a grin that suggested he'd been looking forward to this for some time.
The room was empty. It was Just the two of them.
"Rise and shine."
Paul set the bucket down.
"Big day ahead of you, fool. Up."
He turned and walked off, still smiling.
Ash stared after him, cold and dripping with indignation. Though — if he were honest with himself, which he rarely was — this wasn't entirely terrible. He couldn't recall the last time water had touched his face since leaving home.
'Does this even count as a bath? I genuinely don't know.'
Ash shook the thought off and stood.
'Why did I dream about that? Of all things.'
He paused.
'...At least it was me getting hurt. Not anyone else.'
"Hey… fool. What are you still doing in there? Let's go."
Ash groaned and stepped into the corridor. Already moving. People in rough, worn clothing shuffled past in both directions, most making quiet sounds of misery at the hour. Paul stood at the far end, already retreating when he called back.
"Come on. Do I have to shout every five minutes? Because I will. I genuinely don't mind."
Ash exhaled and quickened his pace.
They walked in silence... the kind that settles between two people who haven't yet decided what they are to each other. Eventually they stepped outside, and the cold arrived immediately. Snow drifted down in slow, loose curtains around the settlement.
Ash glanced down at Paul's feet. To his surprise, Paul was barefoot, walking across snow-covered ground with the total unconcern of someone who had made his peace with it long ago. He watched this for a moment, couldn't find a way to raise it that didn't sound peculiar, and said nothing.
Then Paul looked at him sideways.
"You're not going to ask where we're going?"
Ash kept walking.
Paul's jaw tightened.
"Hey. I'm talking to—"
Ash cut him off, and said in a flat and indifferent tone.
"Take me wherever. I don't care."
Paul studied him. Then let out a slow breath.
"Boy... is something wrong with you? And I mean that sincerely. Is there actually something wrong with you? I heard from the troopers that you walked onto Matthew's ship by yourself and locked yourself in a cell. Voluntarily."
He paused.
"Genuinely one of the strangest things I've ever heard. And I've heard a great deal of strange things."
Ash looked at the ground.
"Mr. Paul. Where are we going."
Paul regarded him for a long moment.
"...I planned to make a whole thing of it. Tell you you'd find out when we arrived. Build some suspense. But you've completely killed the atmosphere for that."
He stopped walking and looked out at the grey distance ahead.
"We're going to work. The only work there is for men like us."
"Which is."
"Mining."
He started walking again.
"Pickaxes. Rocks. That whole situation."
Paul glanced at Ash.
"Actually, that reminds me. Have you ever swung anything? In your life. A stick, a bat, anything with a handle."
Ash's eyes shifted slightly.
"A sword."
Paul looked at him.
"A sword?"
"Yes."
A pause.
"I'm the finest sword master in the world."
Then:
"Currently."
Paul held his gaze.
"Sure. All right. If that's true, a pickaxe won't trouble you. Moving on—"
Ash's attention had already drifted. He'd caught sight of a woman pushing a cart near one of the buildings, and something clicked that had been nagging at him since the night before. He turned to Paul.
"The women. They're kept separate from the men?"
Paul blinked at the shift, then exhaled.
"Yeah. That's how Apex operates. They bring in whole families, makes people feel safer, more cooperative. Then once you're inside, they divide everyone. Men go to the mines. Children get folded into trooper training... most of them. Some refuse and end up with us. The women cook and manage the settlement's interior, but they also go outside to farm and gather outside the walls."
His voice dropped.
"That last part is the dangerous one. Outside the walls."
Paul shook his head.
"We lose more women than men. By a considerable margin."
He glance at Ash.
"Don't get attached to anyone here, especially women. I've watched people do it. Never ends well."
"I won't," Ash said flatly.
Paul frowned.
"What do you mean, you won't. Like it's already decided."
"It is."
"But why so—"
Paul narrowed his eyes.
"Wait. Hold on. Are you into men?"
Ash stopped walking.
"What? No. That's not what I—"
Paul clapped him across the back hard enough to knock a step out of him, laughing.
"Relax, relax. Messing with you. Just wanted to see if you could actually make a face."
Still grinning.
"You can. Good to know."
Ash exhaled through his nose and kept walking.
They reached a building near the middle of the settlement. Inside, Ash's eyes went immediately to the structure at the center of the room. It was large, rectangular, freestanding Like a doorframe leading nowhere. Just open space inside a frame, and yet something about it felt wrong in the way certain things feel wrong before you understand why.
He'd never seen anything like it.
Beside it, a man sat at a table with a computer and the unhurried expression of someone who'd long since stopped being surprised by anything.
"Mr. Paul..."
He looked up as they approached.
"You're late. Mining Team 64 went through twenty minutes ago."
"I know, I know. New member."
Paul jerked a thumb at Ash.
"Had to make sure he was properly awake."
The man's eyes crinkled.
"Ah. The morning shower?"
"The morning shower."
Paul clasped his hands.
"So... who are we paired with today?"
The man pulled up a tablet, scrolled briefly.
"Team 64... team 64... here. You're with mining team 86."
Paul closed his eyes.
"No."
"I'm afraid so."
"The new team? Run by that arrogant boy who's going to get someone killed?"
The man spread his hands.
"Mr. Paul. I'm just the portal administrator. I read the assignments. I don't write them."
Paul pressed two fingers to his temple.
"One day. One day that boy does something reckless and it falls on my team, and I'm going to—"
He stopped.
"Fine. It's fine. Just... fine."
He turned to Ash.
Ash wasn't listening. His eyes had settled on the small placard beside the computer, the kind updated each day:
Days Without Accident: 173.
'That's actually impressive,' he thought. 'Someone must be doing something right.'
Paul pulled him out of it.
"Hey... Go to the room on the left. Get changed. There should be something in your size in there."
***
The changing room was already busy. Men pulled on gear, buckling straps and adjusting closures. Ash found an open locker. Inside: a heavy canvas work shirt, reinforced trousers with thick knee padding, and boots with dense soles that had clearly been resoled more than once. He dressed in the set closest to his size.
Ash also noticed, for the first time, what everyone wore across their faces: a metallic half-mask, covering nose to chin, perforated at the front. Not quite a muzzle. Not far off. The kind of thing built to permit breathing and little else.
'What is this fashion.'
He ignored it and stepped back out.
Paul stood waiting, already dressed, holding two pickaxes. He looked Ash over.
"Not bad. Here—"
He extended one. Ash took it.
"That's your tool and your weapon out there, if it comes to it. You're a sword master, So I'll trust you to figure out how to swing it."
Paul set down the second axe and lifted one of the half-masks from the table beside him.
"Hold still."
"What is th—"
Paul pressed it to his face before he could finish. The device hissed and expanded mechanically, sealing itself across nose and chin with quiet precision. Ash tried to move his mouth. He could not. His lips were shut fast. Even when he tried to hum. Nothing came out.
Paul watched him with a calm expression.
"The single most important thing you'll wear today. Where we're going, any sound that isn't the earth itself is a death signal."
He let that settle.
"So... no talking, obviously. No clapping your hands together, no cracking your knuckles, no sneezing if you can manage it. If you must sneeze, press your arm to your face and pray."
A beat.
"And do not, under any circumstances, pass wind in there."
Ash narrowed his eyes.
'Pass wind? What in the hell is going on in there?'
"Any sound you make that isn't stone on stone will get us all killed. You, me, everyone within range."
Ash stared at him.
'What is in there?'
Paul sealed his own mask, nodded once, and turned toward the frame. They stepped toward it, and the structure lit up, a sudden vivid luminescence filling the open doorway with light and nothing and everything all at once.
The portal administrator at the desk gave a small wave.
"Safe travels. Try not to die... we're on a streak."
Paul rolled his eyes visibly and stepped through. The moment he did, he was gone.
Ash stood at the threshold. He'd read about portals. Heard accounts. Never stood before one. He stared at the glow where Paul had been, and then the portal administrator leaned forward.
"Oh... hey, kid. Probably should have mentioned this earlier, but the portal doesn't agree with everyone. Some people come through the other side fine. Others..."
He made a vague, unpleasant gesture.
"Try to keep your mouth closed. Given the mask, that's actually useful advice for once."
'Keep my mouth—'
Ash stepped through.
Like being folded and unfolded by something with no understanding of the shape of a person. Compressed, drawn sideways, released all at once into open air.
When it stopped, he stood still. Ash opened his eyes and his breath caught.