Page 138 of The Ascended
"You weren't supposed to be the weak link," Marx said, but the edge didn't quite reach her tone.
Kyren straightened, indignation momentarily overriding his exhaustion. "Weak link? I've already got all three keys."
"What?" Thatcher stared at him in disbelief.
"Yeah, started in the amphitheater where I swiped an echo key off another contestant—never even knew I was there. Then the city center. Then my manifestation followed me here, where I grabbed the whisper key." He patted a pouch at his side. "All three, secure and ready."
"You got them all on your own?" I couldn't hide my surprise.
"Don't sound so shocked," Kyren replied with a weak smile. "I'm good at what I do."
"Which is what, exactly?" Marx asked, suspicious.
"Surviving." His smile faded. "The echo keys were the worst. They radiate such loud sounds when you get close—it's like your head is going to explode. My ears were bleeding by the time I shoved it into the container. Thought I'd never hear again."
"And yet here you are, complaining at full, albeit muffled, volume," Marx observed.
Thatcher intervened. "We still need echo keys. We should head to the Amphitheater next."
"Grab your whisper keys," I said, gesturing to the ones still floating in their alcoves.
They all grabbed one, pressing the keys against their ears to listen before sealing them safely in our containers.
"Each key shows something different about Memorica. We need to piece together what happened here." I looked at each of them. "The memory keys show moments from citizens' lives as the city drowned. The echo keys?—"
"Consequences, I think," Kyren interrupted.
"The whisper keys have confessions," Marx added. "Something about selling things that shouldn't be sold."
"And I saw Thalor," I said, watching their reactions. "In the cyclone. He appeared above the city. Then he drowned them all."
Kyren's face paled. "But why?"
"Whatever was sold was clearly dangerous," Thatcher said grimly. "Enough to warrant this."
"The memory I experienced," I said slowly, "was from someone with ink-stained fingers. I watched someone in turquoise robes—a priest, I think. He was handing over a scroll in exchange for gold.”
"So they were trafficking divine information," Marx said.
"But we still don't know what exactly," Kyren pointed out, gesturing to the drowned city around us. "The keys show the selling, show the consequences, but not the actual secrets."
"Maybe that's the point," I said, thinking it through. "Maybe we're not meant to know the specifics. Just that some knowledge shouldn't be sold."
"The echo keys will tell us more," Thatcher said.
"Only one way to find out." Marx adjusted her pack. "To the amphitheater. Stay together."
We left the temple and swam through Memorica's ruins, keeping to shadowed pathways and hidden corridors. Twice we had to hide as other contestants passed by—once when we spotted a pair waiting in ambush for an unsuspecting victim.
I wanted to intervene, to stop the ambush before it happened, but Thatcher held me back.
"We don't have time for heroism," he hissed. "We need to get to the echo keys before they're all gone."
"But they're going to kill that person," I argued.
"And that's terrible, but we can't save everyone. Focus on our objective."
I followed Thatcher's lead, swimming past. The sick feeling in my stomach remained, though I couldn't identify it as guilt or shame or something else entirely.
