Alchimia Rex

They moved as if possessed of a single mind. It wasn't the case, of course; it was merely that each individual in the group was keenly familiar with every other. Before Noah could so much as voice a question, she found herself being yanked by four different Mousegirls.

An overwhelming sense of purpose was glowing out of them, and it muted any ability she had to form a protest. Sulphur led the charge out of the hut and towards the gates, all the while Noah was surrounded by at least a dozen Mousegirls on all sides. Anyone attempting to get close or ask questions would be intercepted by the "director." Questions would be quickly shot down, and the guards would allow the small horde through more amused than concerned.

The moment they passed the gates they took a quick turn off the road, their numbers dispersing until only Sulphur and three others remained. Noah considered fighting them off while she still had the chance, but the notion felt like it would only make her situation worse. She knew a gang when she saw one, and needlessly antagonizing them could get her into deep trouble.

Their path led through the unused streets, moving out of sight and away from anyone else's attention. The maidens dragging her across the city kept flickering between earnest concern and a desire to help. The emotions of some kind of familial bond to her kept flaring out with protectiveness.

It was hard to process that they'd consider her, a total stranger, in such a way.

It was equally hard to measure how much of a mess up this was. The plan had been for a nap and a quick discreet entry into Sinco. To watch unimpeded and ignored. Were all Mousegirls this tightly knit? Now she wasn't sure. The lot in Aubria and Astunes had never struck her as very coordinated or daring.

The group led her all the way into a small tunnel that had been discreetly tucked away between two tightly packed houses. Even the Mousegirls, as small as they were, had to squeeze through the gap and into the hole. The tunnel was deep, and forced them to hunch over as they moved. The sole reason Noah allowed herself to be led there was that not one of her escorts held a shred of ill intent.

She recognized the smuggler's tunnel; the design was familiar to her. The corners were rounded into archways, the earth smoothed over. The whole thing was meant to be able to be usable with the least amount of space possible.

Within moments, the tunnel broadened into a room that had the same scent as the hut. "This is the special nap place," Sulphur explained. "If you can't find somewhere safe, you can come here. There are a few other places like it."

"Unused, now," Another of the escorts piped up. "The Lord gives us very safe nap spots."

"Are there other ways to come here?" Noah asked.

"Many." "Lots." "All over." "But not near the shore. Lord wants to dig down." "Said it's dangerous." "We buried the tunnels there."

"And… from outside the city walls?" Noah nudged.

Sulphur regarded her for a moment. "You have a secret to keep. Partner in danger?"

Noah caught herself before she could answer, tightening her jaw a little. "Maybe."

With only a nod of acknowledgement, they continued on their trek. The group took her into a series of bifurcations, weaving between tunnels as if at random, before eventually reaching a rather large chamber the size of a small house.

The first thought that crossed Noah’s mind was that she’d entered a space where a mad-man had been imprisoned for decades. Every available inch of space that wasn’t the ground was covered in letters, numbers, runes, and diagrams. Noah wasn’t sure what she was looking at, only that all of it seemed to spiral around a singular central drawing that’d been carved out of the stone in exhaustive detail.

It was the drawing of a winged wheelbarrow, soaring across the sky with a Mousegirl seated on top.

Noah didn’t understand what was going on until her guides had turned to look at the image. Their feelings took a tone of reverence and awe. It was a blinding kind of hope.

At the opposite end of the chamber stood their messiah, gray metallic hair betraying that she was a Metalmouse. Dressed in simple dirt-addled cotton, the maiden was carving away at the stone with a murisium pick. Her hands were a blur of activity even to Noah’s eyes.

“Rafie!” Sulphur called out, reverence and trust thrumming through her.

The maiden in question halted her progress, turning around and raising her goggles to take a look at them. The moment she lay eyes on Noah, her eyes widened. “Tigermouse?” she whispered in disbelief, quickly approaching.

“Uh…”

“Her name’s Noah. She’s new here. Threshold.”

“I am Rafaela.” A short curt nod followed.

“Rafie for her sisters.”

The others fell silent at a wave from the Metalmouse. “We could use your help,” she declared, stepping forward and offering her hands out to her. Silver eyes bore into Noah, the maiden looming over her.

“Help?” Noah frowned.

“Tilly was a Tigermouse. She helped the horde understand the complicated things.” She nodded again. “So long as one of us could understand, then she could help the others understand.” The maiden gestured at the glyphs and numbers littering every part of the room. “This is a very complicated thing, teaching is very hard and slow. The horde must learn these things to make it a reality sooner.”

She was about to make some complaint, but stopped herself, looking at the others.

“Her partner might be in danger,” Sulphur provided.

“The Cog-Horde protects their own,” Rafaela declared with a serious nod, reaching out to grasp Noah’s hands. “This includes your partner.”

“Especially against bad Lords.” Another of the Mousegirls added, and they all shared nods with each other.

The honest intent was mixed with a vindictive anger. It was easy to tell something had happened, but Noah didn’t care much. Everyone had a sob story. “It has to be a secret from the current Lord.”

Rafaella hesitated. There was a sting of betrayal at the consideration, but it was quickly overwhelmed by determination. “We protect our own.” She nodded, squeezing Noah’s hands. “But our Lord is good, he is of the horde. He can be trusted.”

“This is important to my partner,” Noah insisted.

“She is threshold, she doesn’t understand,” Sulphur gave their apparent leader a soft pat on her shoulder. “You didn’t trust either. She needs time.”

Acceptance followed, Rafaella sighed, biting her lip. “We keep this secret from the Lord. For now.” She gave a sharp look. “It cannot be a forever promise. The Lord holds many secrets, and his wives are sharp. The white-cat stalks all.”

A grave nod was shared, and Noah felt a sense of begrudging respect and fear coming out of the Metalmouse.

“We can work with that.” Noah didn’t mention that they would leave if anything felt off or if they got the slightest whiff of danger. It would hopefully give them the time and opportunity to learn more about what was going on in Sinco. Maybe even find a way to break Brye’s bond with Mark safely.

Their priority was escaping the Boss's clutches.

“It is a deal.” Releasing her hands, Rafaella tugged her towards the wall she’d been carving on.

“Woah, woah.” Noah stepped back, pulling herself free of the grasp. “I’m here only to scout things out. My partner’s safety comes first.”

The frustration was practically palpable, but Rafaella didn’t press on. Crossing her arms, she looked at Noah sternly. The two mice kept their ground, each measuring the other. The Metalmouse was the first to relent, letting out a sigh and moving her hands to her hips.

“What do you need?”

“Information on the Lord.” Noah raised her hands before any complaints were aimed her way. “Whatever isn’t a secret would be a good place to start.” She could worm out more important details given time. “Like how he took over the city, or what those trenches are outside the wall.”

The mice shared glances with one another, nodding once before the others turned to leave.

“If you wish to understand the Lord, then you should know about the Cog-Horde first,” she said, gesturing for Noah to follow. “Many of us were originally owned by Mister Rollo. We worked in the elemental stone mine, at least until it began to dry up.” She entered one of the tunnels, squeezing into the space and waiting. “When I ascended into a Metalmouse, the Lord bought me and began construction of the Lightning-Vault. He wished to use it to make it easier for him to ascend maidens. I helped because I wanted my sisters to grow stronger too.”

Noah was no stranger to the concept. There was no shortage of people claiming they knew exactly how to guarantee a maiden would ascend into some more powerful form. Swindlers in particular could find it very lucrative selling oils or “secrets” detailing how to turn your everyday Doggirl into a Terrielle or Pitbelle or a Hound. Only a dullard wouldn’t see some merit in ascending a maiden or twelve in their service. And the nobility was just as prone to these schemes if not more so.

“It was a mistake.”

There was a finality to her statement.

Noah didn’t need to ask whether there had been any eventual success to it. If there had been, it was doubtful the man would’ve lost the city. Anyone who unlocked such a secret would become an unstoppable force. But in the end, it was an impossible dream. Like elixirs for immortality, or potions that could turn maidens into humans.

“When the feral rush came, people started disappearing inside the city. Some of us had found out it was a predator, but any who reported it would go missing soon after. It became clear the threat was working with the Lord in some way.” Their meandering came to a halt in another room. “Tilly among them.”

This room had a ceiling low enough that Noah could reach out and touch it. On the walls, someone had carved out names. A quick glance confirmed at least fifty, perhaps closer to a hundred. The solemn way Rafaella nodded at the wall could only mean these were the names of those that had been lost.

“We formed the Cog-Horde to survive. We recruited most of the mice in the city and shared the secrets of how to avoid the predators,” Rafaella stopped, turning around. “Vampires,” she declared. “We didn’t know about it until later. What we do know is that Thorley became more aggressive when they stopped showing up. He withheld food from the city to try and hold out, but that was when Lord Rick appeared with the tribe.”

“Convenient,” Noah pointed out.

“We thought so too,” Rafaella nodded in understanding. “One of his wives was a Fledgling.”

“Was?”

“She ascended a few weeks ago. But the leader can be trusted; she-” Her ears twitched; the maiden cut herself off and shook her head. “No, that is her secret.”

“She ascended.” Noah frowned at that. “Into a Vampire?” The silence was confirmation enough; she felt a knot suddenly forming in her gut.

Alarm bells were ringing pretty loudly now. For a moment, they stared at each other; Noah felt a shortness of breath coming to her.

Rafaella stepped back. “You want to run away.”

Noah caressed the hilt of the knife on her hip. “Are you going to stop me?”

The other mouse shook her head. “You have not tried to hurt us; we have no reason to hurt you. It is not our way.” She pointed at one of the tunnels. “That is the shortest way outside if you must run.”

It could be a trap.

The thought popped up unbidden. Noah hesitated in her step, fighting against old instincts. She was a maiden now, not a human. She had ways to verify; she wasn’t helpless to treachery as she was before.

“Give me your tail.”

Rafaella frowned, then nodded, turning around to allow Noah to grip her tail. The Metalmouse squeaked with a little surprise, but Noah focused on the feelings coming out of her.

“Think about this Rick fellow. Focus on that.”

At that moment, she thought she’d gone blind. Rafaella’s emotions exploded with such tenacious feelings of veneration that they drowned out all else. Noah had to grit her teeth to avoid recoiling away, focusing on the undertones. There was awe and respect, gratitude and trust, debt and apprehension. The emotions were tempered by duty and purpose, a sense of belonging to something greater than any individual could ever hope for.

Noah swallowed. “Now… think about the tunnel, about letting me leave.”

The emotions swirled and changed, becoming regret, sadness, acceptance, and failure. There was no subterfuge, anger, or smugness. It was as much confirmation as she needed to have. She let go of Rafaella’s tail and bolted for the exit.

Her mind churned, fear gripping her chest.

This was not the first time she’d witnessed this.

Brye felt about the Boss in the exact same way.

It was clear they could not trust impressions of this Lord. Rick could not be openly approached.