The night did not just grow darker; it grew dense, as if the atmosphere were being pressurized by the weight of the prison hidden in the indigo shadows.
Inside the Main prison, the other guard stood like a tall, unmoving statue at the main entrance of the hall. He was blocked directly in the center of the doorway, his shadow stretching out across the dirt floor like a long, dark blade.
Behind him, the hall was thick with humid, heavy air that smelled of old woodsmoke and the sharp, sour scent of dried sweat.
Tolu was a small, still shape trapped in the middle of the room. She was barely visible behind the thick, dark wooden bars of her cage, which poked out of the ground like the ribs of a giant skeleton.
The lead guard leaned his shoulder against the main support post—a thick, dark tree trunk of seasoned ironwood. His eyes moved in a slow, careful sweep, watching the way the torchlight made the shadows dance.
With a steady, practiced motion, he lifted his heavy Totokia club. He just let the weight of the heavy wooden head fall forward, hitting the post with a loud, hollow crack.
Thock—
The sound echoed off the thatched walls and shook the bars of Tolu's cage.
Thock—
Inside, Tolu jumped. She jerked her head up toward the sound. Her skin was still shiny with sweat in the dim light, and the salty streaks of dried tears were tight on her cheeks.
Her eyes were wide, the pupils shrinking as she stared at the guard's back.
The night didn't just break; it was surgically unstitched.
The Bati let out a low, bored grunt—hnn-h-h—and shifted his weight, his heavy feet making a dry shff-grrit sound on the packed earth.
The replacement shift stepped into the vacancy, and the air felt suddenly hollowed out.
"What the heck has happened? Where are they?"
The lead guard observed the empty spaces where the perimeter watch should have stood.
His partner spat into the dirt. "They must've got their heads in the gutter. Probably slinking off for a rest."
They descended from the raised platform, the bamboo ladder emitting a distinct, sinewy groan under their mass.
They walked toward the inner defenses, their gait heavy but rhythmic. As the lead Bati climbed toward the outer fortification, he noticed the discarded ladder leaning against the bamboo palisade—a jagged, out-of-place geometry.
His jaw tightened in a controlled fury. "What the hell? These sloppy men can't even do one single job." He snapped his head toward his partner below. "They left the ladder out. Let's see what ridiculous excuse they have for this failure."
They dropped to the earth, landing with a heavy thud, not loud, but possessing a dense, Subterranean Thrum. They moved around the perimeter, their confusion morphing into a clinical wariness.
Within seconds, the lead guard's eyes widened.
Two limed-haired bodies—the previous shift—lay unnaturally still on the ground, their forms looking like collapsed shadows. Their weapons lay askew, the polished ironwood dull in the grass.
"No. Not sloppy. They're dead." His voice was a sandpaper whisper, filled with a sudden, forensic shock. "We have killers in our midst."
His partner stepped off the ladder, his eyes locking onto the deadly crimson stain blooming across the neck of the nearest man.
Before they could raise the alarm—before the air could carry a shout—a sudden, high-pitched shriek ripped through the quiet night air. It echoed from the path leading down the headland toward the sea.
"What is that noise? Forget the bodies! Check it out."
They leaped toward the path, abandoning the dead. The second guard stumbled on a thin line of sennit hidden in the grass.
He stopped, bending low, his large shadow momentarily smothering the evidence. He waved his hand.
A tight annoyed and sternness bellowed the lead Bati. He followed—wet shush-thud down the headland.
"What do you see?"
The guard looked up, his face a mask of professional disdain. "It's a trap. A clever one at that."
From the shadows of the palisade, Kanka's voice was a jagged rasp. "Let's go, Tantei! Let's go, let's go!"
Tantei exploded from cover, racing toward the dark timber ladder of the entrance. He watched the Bati—moving at a fast, alert walk, not a panicked run—heading toward the diversion. His breath hitched.
The lead Bati performed a final, wary scan and saw a figure—Kanka—scrambling over the bamboo, a quick blur against the black wood. "They are heading toward the captive!"
Despite their urgency, the Bati's pace was hampered by the slick, anaerobic mud.
Tantei and Kanka landed hard inside the ironwood palisade, their bare feet absorbing the bone-deep jar of the impact. The sound was a heavy, fleshy thud-slap against the slick earth.
They raced to the ladder by the raised earth of the Vale ni Loka.
Tantei pressed his hand flat against the rough, heavy timber of the entrance, his heart pumping hard against his ribcage.
He slipped through the low doorway into the dark interior, where the air was thick with the damp smell of earth and fear.
"Tolu."
Her head snapped up. In the obsidian gloom, her eyes held a glassy shimmer of hope. She surged forward, her movements a frantic blur. "Guys!"
Tantei caught her in a single, necessary embrace—finally made flesh. "It's okay. We gotta go now." He pushed her toward the narrow supply exit.
"Tantei. Kanka—" Her voice was a cracked whisper of disbelief.
"Save it for later."
The trio slipped through the opening.
Tolu reached out, her fingers grazing his face. "Oh my—what happened to your lip?"
Kanka lowered her hand, his expression a shrugged-off void. "It's fine. It's fine."
Tolu followed, her rough clothing snagging briefly on the ironwood splinters with a dry skritch. Her movements were stiff, fueled by a frantic, chemical confusion.
Kanka pressed behind her, his breathing sharp and audible. Tantei paused at the exit, ear flat against the wood.
He could hear them—the Bati—their footfalls a shushed, rhythmic pounding on the wet soil, moving with organized speed. He risked a peek.
He saw the massive silhouettes, their limed hair catching the amber torchlight as they scaled the ladder with constant, guttural groans.
"Pull your head back."
The groaning of the bamboo stopped, replaced by the thud-thud of heavy feet on the ramparts.
"Go, quickly!"
Tantei peeked again. The perimeter was momentarily clear, filled only with the distant mutters of the search party.
"They left. Come on."
They burst out onto the ladder.
"You go first." Kanka patted Tolu's back.
The ladder creaked—a strained, wooden whine, but their movements were precise.
They made a slow, deliberate run toward the inner wall, soles pressing into the wet ground to mute the impact, knees bent, eyes scanning like frantic owls.
"Climb up, fast."
The ladder groaned under their combined weight.
Kanka seized the high, moon-bleached bamboo stakes and scrambled over with the speed of a desperate animal. Tantei followed, his hands gripping the bamboo—creak-creak.
SUDDENLY—
"Hey!!"
A booming yell shattered the silence. A Gata battle-axe flew through the dark, its heavy beak performing a violent, gyroscopic rotation before it slammed into the ladder.
—Splintering-Gong—Cannon-Crack—
The vibration traveled through the wood and into Tantei's marrow, the ironwood beak biting deep into the bamboo.
Tantei, out of pure, frantic instinct fell backward to prevent the splinters.
As the shadow of the giant stretched over his pinned body, the sound stopped. The silence returned, but it was a hollowed-out silence, pregnant with the weight of the ironwood club about to fall.
Tantei realized then that the Rewa hadn't gone quiet—it had simply held its breath to watch him die.