Her servant, Flint, and several members of the Evolutionary Guard, waited nearby. They packed together about a hundred meters away, cowering beneath an ancient tree that had been dead for many years. She didn’t have to look to know that each one of them had strained necks from gawking at the massive surroundings of the Maze cavern. None of them had ever been here— Alexandra had broken a sacred rule bringing them down, not to mention the risk involved. As she gazed at the vacant doors, so long closed, now open, she thought that other sacred rules might be broken soon. Very soon.

Much of her life, she had acted a part, played a role. She returned to that now.

Standing up, she summoned an odd mixture of rage and confusion, pulling in what she needed from the Flaring discipline. She marched toward her entourage with an inspired, terrifying gait, and enjoyed—not a little—the fear that sparked in their eyes. With a booming voice that belied her diminutive stature, she spewed an onslaught of words at them, high-minded nonsense purposefully designed to mean nothing while also geared to scare the living hell out of people.

They jumped into position, surrounding her, matching her speed, wisely keeping silent.

Nicholas was watching, of this she had no doubt.

With less control, she might’ve smiled. But she didn’t smile.

She raged. She needed to be alone.

“Flint, after we get back, you have the night off. Everyone has the night off.”

On they went, leaving the Maze behind.

Land, as foreign as the planets.

Isaac clung to the rusty flakes of the railing as salty spray blossomed in the air with each bump of the ship’s prow upon the shallowing waters. Droplets licked his face in icy patches, a thrill that almost matched the awe of seeing a world he’d only ever known from the lips of old men and women. From stories told around a flickering fire in the night, shadows alive with the possibilities of the past. Of horrors and fears, replacing the joys of once was.

You sound like a grandpa, he thought.

A long line of sandy beach awaited them, the slow creep of the ocean eroding the flat coast with endless patience. Beyond that yellow-white beach, Isaac might’ve expected what he’d seen all his life, rising swells of green forest and jutting rock, eclipsing the horizon with jagged peaks of volcanic stone. But instead he saw a vista of human-built invasions of nature, endless blocks and pillars of civilization, buildings competing with each other to be the tallest or the ugliest. He’d heard of cities his whole life, had even seen pictures in the few ancient books they possessed on the island he’d left behind, but never could any of that have prepared him for what lay before his eyes.