The Heist That Wasn't (But Kind Of Was)

Morning arrived with all the subtlety of a marching band, complete with actual trumpets heralding the start of the "Official Hero Mission to Save Everything." Mia stood in Master Inventor Celia's workshop, looking at what could charitably be called "armor" and more accurately be described as "a steampunk fever dream that had collided headlong with a medieval knight's worst nightmare."

"It's not pretty," said Celia, displaying her handiwork with the proud grin of a parent showing off a particularly homely but well-loved child, "but it should keep you alive."

The device looked like medieval armor and a Victorian diving suit had smashed into each other at high speed, then been reassembled again by steampunk fans who had access to magical materials. The helmet itself had at least six crystal filters, two magical air pumps, and what appeared to be a periscope.

"Tell me that periscope is functional and not just for decoration," Mia said, attempting to lift the helmet.

"Functional. You can look around corners without exposing yourself to immediate magical corruption. Useful for sneaking around."

Mia spent the next hour familiarizing herself with her new equipment, under the suspicious watch of a group of palace guards whose expressions ranged from astonishment to poorly concealed disgust. The suit was heavier than she'd expected but surprisingly well-balanced. The air filtration system gave a constant low thrum that was strangely comforting.

"Magical charge should be good for eight hours," Celia said, watching several gauges and crystals. "Emergency backup will give you an extra two hours, but only if you switch over to it before the main system fails."

"And if I don't switch over in time?"

"Then you'll get to see firsthand what magical corruption will do to unprotected humans."

"Which is?"

"Nothing immediately fatal, but you'll probably be growing extra limbs within a few days."

"Extra limbs?"

"Don't worry—they're usually functional."

Mia didn't pursue that line of inquiry.

At noon, she was mounted on a horse specially trained to carry riders in cumbersome magical equipment, leading a small escort toward the Blighted Wastes. The party consisted of Kael, Captain Reis, two Royal Guardsmen, and a supply wagon driven by someone whose official title appeared to be "Emergency Magical Evacuation Specialist."

"Cheap thrill," Mia said upon hearing about their driver's occupation.

"We prefer to be prepared for anything," Captain Reis replied tactfully.

The landscape gradually changed as they traveled south. The surreal beauty and vibrant colors of central Eldoria gave way to pastels, then to areas where the grass itself seemed tired. Ins the late afternoon, they were traveling through lands that seemed as if someone had slowly drained the life out of everything.

"The corruption sets in insidiously," Kael said, riding beside her. "You don't notice it at first, then you glance around and everything seems a little off. The colors are off, shadows fall the wrong way, and the air has a tang."

"Stale disappointment," Mia finished, smelling the scent even through her suit's filters.

"That's pretty close."

They camped in the last settlement before the Blighted Wastes themselves began—a big, fortified outpost called Haven's End, which Mia thought was either very optimistic or very ironic. The outpost was staffed by volunteers who took shifts of a few months at a time to avoid overexposure to magical taints.

"We get a lot of heroes coming through," Captain Thorne, the outpost's commander, a veteran woman with sharp eyes, told them during dinner. "Most of them are quite confident going in."

"And coming out?"

"We don't see as many of them coming out."

"That's reassuring."

Captain Thorne examined Mia's mechanical armor, which she'd worn to dinner both to test how well it stood up to extended wear and because removal and reapplication took twenty minutes. "This is quiet. Something. I've never seen anything like it."

"It's a prototype. Totally untested."

"All the better. At least if it breaks, it'll be a learning experience."

That evening, while Mia was conducting final equipment checks, Kael approached her with a small wrapped bundle in his hand.

"From Elena," he said. "She made me promise I'd only hand this over to you when you were preparing to go into the Wastes."

Inside the bundle was a compass that seemed to be made of crystallized starlight and a note in Elena's handwriting.

"This compass does not point north," Mia read. "It points to what you need most. Don't use it for navigation, but heed it when all else ceases to make sense. And don't skip lunch. Heroes who skip meals make poor decisions. -Elena"

"She's very practical for a mystical healer," Mia observed.

"It's one of her better qualities."

The compass needle was spinning slowly now, conflicted between several different directions. Mia tucked it away safely in one of the many pockets of the suit.

"You know," she said, watching the sun set behind the corrupted landscape before them, "six months ago, if someone had told me I'd be wearing steampunk magical armor and preparing to break into an evil fortress, I'd have advised them to seek professional help."

"And now?"

"Now I wonder why it has taken this long to come across work this fascinating."

The dawn came too early, bringing with it a pewter-striped sky and air that stank of rust and broken dreams. The Blighted Wastes themselves lay out before them like a fever dream—trees that had once been oaks, now twisted, pools of water reflecting colors that had no right to exist, and in the distance, Shadowhold's black spires stabbing the corrupted earth like accusations of the sky.

"Last chance to change your mind," Captain Reis told Mia while she was double-checking her equipment.

"I've been changing my mind for the past week," Mia replied, re-checking her helmet seal once more. "Strangely enough, it still hasn't taken."

"The support team will remain here for three days," Kael told her. "If you haven't returned by then."

"Then you'll either think that I've accomplished something wonderfully heroic, or failed in a spectacularly informative fashion."

"More or less."

Mia activated her suit's systems, watching as a number of gauges fell into the acceptable levels, and took a breath of recycled air filtered and magically cleansed. From the back of her helmet's faceplate, the Blighted Wastes looked more like a trial by fire than certain death.

"Well," she told herself as much as anyone. "Time to go infiltrate an evil stronghold with nothing but customer service prowess and stubborn problem-solving."

She headed toward the black spires on the horizon, her mechanical armor humming contentedly in the poisonous air. The support team called out final encouragements and good luck after her.

Two days' travel through ground that could kill her, and then a try at breaking into a fortress that was half out of the world, where she would try to disable a magical control system using nothing but determination and guesswork.

The Jeweled Blade pulsed at her hip, its rhythm matching her heartbeat, and Elena's compass spun once before settling, its needle pointing steadfastly at the black fortress.

For the first time since she'd departed Willowbrook, Mia was certain she was exactly where she was supposed to be.