Chapter Text
“Hah!” Phoenix sat straight up, blinking in the cold white light of the archive house. “Uh—ah—”
No one walked through the hallways. Not King. Not Petro. Not the Collector—Phoenix was the only one here. Phoenix slowly got to his feet, looking both ways for any sign of life.
“Hello?” he called. His voice echoed, and faintly, he heard a returning call—no, not a call. A… giggle?
“Hey!” he tried again, “Is anyone there?” It was a risky move, giving away his position, especially if Petro/Belos was still around, but the eerie silence was almost worse than unwanted attention.
Another giggle, this one louder, then…
“Nee-nee!”
Phoenix surged through the hallway, blind panic taking over his limbs. “Ghost?! Ghost, where are you?!”
He’d thought Jason and Ghost had gotten away—had the Collector caught them later? Was just Ghost here, or had Jason been captured, too? Were they alright?
That ghostly giggle bounced through the hallways, and Phoenix raced after it, somehow never getting closer, even though he knew Ghost couldn’t move that quickly.
Phoenix shoved open the door he knew led to Eda with a small twinge of relief. Eda and Lilith would probably protect Ghost—and he knew there was nowhere else for Ghost to run off to if they were in here.
The puppets inside had vanished, all except one. Phoenix shivered at Darius’ lifeless eyes. “I’ll be right back,” he promised, “I’ll—”
A cold, hard hand caught his wrist as he passed the puppet, and Darius’s head whipped around. His eyes no longer had that glazed, puppeted look to them—they were real and living, somehow, still inside of a puppeted body, but flesh and blood.
“Why did you leave?” Darius asked. His mouth moved up and down mechanically, but his eyes, those real eyes welled up with tears. “Was I not good enough for you?”
“What? No, I—” Phoenix blinked back tears of his own. “Darius, I never—”
“You replaced me! All those years spent wondering what had happened to you, and you forgot about me? You promised you would protect me, but look what’s happened to me!”
“He’s good at that.”
A chill ran down Phoenix’s spine, and even though he couldn’t break away from Darius’ viselike grip, he twisted his head around to see Jason, balancing Ghost on his hip.
“He always says he’ll protect you,” Jason continued, “But then he sends you away. Into danger. He says he’ll protect you, but he always, always fails.”
“I tried,” Phoenix begged, “Jason, I tried. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for this to happen. I tried to keep you safe, both of you. I—”
Bright light blinded Phoenix, and when he blinked it away, he saw puppeted forms of Darius, Jason, and Ghost pulling up and away from him.
“No!” Phoenix lunged upwards, but they were already out of reach, and they quickly disappeared from view.
Where did they go?
Who else got caught?
How do I get them back?
“Whoa—” One of Hunter’s friends, Luz, caught Phoenix’s shoulder. King grabbed him in a hug, while Eda stood behind Luz, casting him a worried look. Everything around them was still those cold whites and blues with occasional pops of color, but Phoenix didn’t recognize their surroundings from the archive house. “Hey—Phoenix, right?”
Phoenix blinked, disoriented by the change in location. “Uh—yeah—where—what—”
“I don’t know.” Luz sat back. “We just woke up a minute ago, too—the Collector trapped us all in some… nightmare… and the light glyph woke us up.” She flinched guiltily. “I’m… sorry about Jason. I really thought he’d make it back to you.”
“He did.” Phoenix couldn’t stop staring at the sky where Jason, Ghost, and Darius had disappeared. “How long…?”
Luz rubbed her arms. “I don’t know. It’s hard to tell time here.”
Eda winced. “We didn’t even see you there for a second.”
King let go of Phoenix, pacing around. “Hey, uh, I’m glad we’re all awake and reunited, and I definitely want to know what everyone’s been up to, but we gotta find a way out of… whatever this is before—”
The sky flashed white and pink, and the Collector descended with a dramatic sigh and headshake. “I don’t get it, King. I really don’t get it. You either, Phoenix. I thought you loved playing our games! Why choose these… itty bitty spiders over me?”
“Because your games stink, squirt!” Eda called, one of her arms transforming into a claw.
The Collector had come alone—where had Petro gone? Phoenix put one arm out, edging in front of Luz and King, but Luz quickly whipped out a magic staff, standing with Eda. “And spiders! Are awesome!”
King dashed out from behind Phoenix. “Yeah! Especially the itty bitty ones!”
A momentary flash of hurt crossed the Collector’s face. “You act like I’m doing something bad!” he shot back defensively, “But I’m just having fun!”
King glanced back at Phoenix. “Trapping people and scaring them and controlling them? That’s not fun, Collector. Phoenix tried to tell you that.”
“I was going to let him go, wasn’t I?! I only got mad because he tried to take you with him!”
“Hey, don’t forget, everyone nearly died from the draining spell!” Eda added.
“Psh. So?” Collector held out their hand, a toy forming in his palm. “Toys break all the time. You just fix them.” He snapped the doll’s head off and reattached it for emphasis.
Luz blinked. “Do you… not understand what death means to mortals?”
“Phoenix knows what I’m talking about!” Collector said cheerfully, “After all, Belos broke him pretty good, and he’s fine!”
Phoenix winced. “Well—that was—”
Collector jumped up into the air, their powers sparking around them. “Don’t worry! I don’t wanna scare you anymore. I think we can all be great friends. So. Let me show you some of my favorite games!”
The ground rumbled beneath them, and walls shot up, hiding the Collector from view.
“A maze?” Luz yelped.
Eda transformed completely, sprouting wings and feathers. “Let me check the top—no use wandering around if we can just fly out.”
Her voice had that same eerie, echoey quality it had when Phoenix had met her—this must be what the elixirs allowed her to do with her curse.
I wonder if they’d do that for me?
Eda launched herself upwards in a rush of wind from her wings, but before she could get very high, the maze behind them shook. A giant face chomped its way towards them, half yellow, half purple, just like the Collector—no, it was Collector.
Eda swooped back down, scooping up King. Luz offered Phoenix a hand to get on her staff.
“I think I can outr—”
“This isn’t a time to be self-sacrificing, get on!”
Phoenix let her pull him up behind her, and she took off, hurtling through the maze after Eda and King. The giant Collector head chomped closer and closer.
We’re not going to make it, Phoenix realized, I’m dead weight.
It wouldn’t have mattered even if they had been faster—their next turn led them to a dead end, and before Phoenix could even consider a way out, the Collector was on top of them, and his jaws closed easily around Phoenix, Luz, and the palisman.
Just as quickly, though, they opened again, and the maze tumbled around Phoenix. Luz’s palisman broke her fall, but Phoenix landed heavily on one foot, and his ankle twisted, sending him stumbling forward a few steps before falling. Little shocks of pain shot up his leg from his ankle, and he hissed. Already, he could feel his ankle throbbing and getting heavier inside of his boot.
“Whoa—” Luz gave her palisman a proud, congratulatory scratch while the Collector yowled in pain, but quickly knelt next to Phoenix. “Are you okay?”
“I think it’s just twisted,” he grunted, “I’ll be o—”
“I’ll just fix it,” the Collector interrupted loudly, but somewhat garbled while he sullenly held his swollen mouth, “Watch.”
They snapped their fingers, and Phoenix’s foot whipped back into place—and over, twisting too far with a snap. Phoenix bit his hand with a strangled scream.
“Oops!” The Collector snapped his fingers again, and Phoenix’s foot twisted again, this time stopping when it was straight. “There, that’s right.”
“Oh my gosh,” Luz yelped, “Eda, could you—”
Eda’s talons sliced through Phoenix boot, and Luz drew a glyph. Vines wrapped around his injured foot and hardened, securing it in place.
“Do you think you can keep going?” she whispered.
Phoenix nodded faintly, even though his stomach churned from the pain. “I think s—” his now-broken ankle sent a wave of throbbing pain through his body, and his arms responded, shifting to claws. Luz’s eyes widened, and she jumped back away from him.
“I’m not possessed,” he said quickly, “Luz, I promise it’s not that—I know it looks bad, but—”
“You’re not walking on that,” Eda declared, giving he and Luz a brief, confused glance, “You’ll make it worse.”
“Collector!” King yelled, “Phoenix needs a break! He’s too hurt to play!
“Yeah!” Luz joined in, “Time out!”
No—that would get him turned back into a puppet. “Wait—you said you wouldn’t control us anymore, so you have to just send me to the archive house!” If he could manage that, maybe he could find and free everyone else—or at least figure out where Petro and Belos had gone.
Collector heaved a dramatic sigh. “Do you promise you won’t run away this time?”
“Promise,” Phoenix said quickly. And for once, he meant it. He’d get the others out, but then he’d wait. He owed Collector that much. But Jason, Ghost, and Darius didn’t.
“Fiiiiiiine.”
Collector snapped his fingers again, and Phoenix’s surroundings just sort of… switched to the archive house, in the dark of the Collector’s room, with none of the usual twisting or flashes of light that Phoenix associated with teleportation.
Petro dug through the drawers, looking for something, and Phoenix’s eyes narrowed. He launched himself at the other grimwalker, tackling him to the ground and pinning him neatly. “You! You told him to destroy our house!”
Petro grinned easily, looking totally nonchalant, despite his vulnerable position. “Sure. Best way to get you all crawling out of your hidey hole.”
Something was off. Petro sounded like… himself. Those weren’t Belos’ words. And, Phoenix realized, Petro’s eyes shone magenta, rather than blue.
The hairs on the back of Phoenix’s neck rose, and he threw himself to the side just in time, a familiar blade slicing through the air where he’d been. Phoenix sprang to his feet, whirling around to face the new threat.
Belos had picked a new body—one of the Collector’s puppets, a witch with green hair and one long dangling earring. Petro climbed to his feet.
“Surprise!”
“Wha—” Phoenix spluttered, “Why—how—”
“More efficient to have me acting on my own.”
Belos scowled. “In theory. I thought I told you to make sure the Collector brought back Caleb. Not this one.”
“Not my fault he’s obsessed with this guy for some reason. Why don’t you try corralling the brat? Oh, that’s right. Because if he saw your face, he’d send you hurtling into the nearest wall.”
“Watch your tongue. I’m the only reason he’s out there playing his ridiculous games instead of in here hovering over us. Luckily, it’s not too late to fix this… error.”
Phoenix shuffled away from the two of them, quietly jumping into the air before they could stop arguing long enough to remember he was there. The lower gravity in this room made walking easier on his injured leg, and he soared effortlessly through the air.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Phoenix twisted to avoid another blow from Belos. He’d lashed out too late, though—Phoenix reached the door and bolted, dragging his deadweight leg behind him. Luz had done a wonderful job splinting his ankle, but still, every step sent little stabs of pain up his leg.
Behind him, Petro crashed out of the room, closely followed by Belos. Phoenix quickly turned down a hallway and out of their sight, breathing heavily. He couldn’t outrun them, not like this, he knew. But they’d only been at the archive house for a day at the most—he’d spent weeks, maybe months, here. He couldn’t run. But he could hide.
If he could make it to Darius (was he in the same place? Or had the Collector put him somewhere new?), he thought he could remember a light glyph well enough to wake him up. Then at least he’d have backup. But then, what if he couldn’t wake him up before Belos and Petro caught up to him? Belos would remember Darius, he was sure, and he’d leverage that against Phoenix if he could. Phoenix couldn’t put him in danger like that.
“Phoenix?!”
Phoenix nearly slammed into Odalia, but skidded to a stop just in time. “You! Wait, no, I don’t have time for you.”
“Oh, you saw that thing, too? Horrible, isn’t it? I’m lucky I got out with my life.”
Phoenix edged around her, glancing behind him anxiously. “Yes, well, it’s currently chasing me, so—”
Her eyes glinted. “Is it?”
She touched the pendant around her throat, and an oracle spirit sprang out, lunging towards Phoenix. Phoenix grabbed it by the arms, wrestling it away from him. “Hey!”
“Better you than me, dear. Best of luck!”
Odalia disappeared into a side room, while the spirit drew back, reevaluated, then tried to tackle him again. Phoenix’s arms shifted, and he let them, slinging the creature across the hallway into the wall.
Before he could run again, something slammed into his back, a familiar pulse of magic. Phoenix stumbled forward, twisting around to see Petro holding an artificial staff.
“Where did you even get that?” he groaned.
“Stopped by the keep on our way here,” Petro said nonchalantly, “Pretty handy.”
Belos was only steps behind Petro. His eyes widened when he saw Phoenix’s arms, but Phoenix didn’t stick around to see what he had to say about it, bolting again.
He wasn’t going to make it. He knew it in a sinking, hopeless feeling deep in his chest. There was nowhere to run, and they were too close behind him—one warp from Petro would end this chase. The only thing he might have been able to hope for was that the Collector would come to bring him back, but it seemed like they were too busy with their games.
Phoenix pivoted, planting his feet to face whatever would come after him. Was it a fight he could win? Probably not. But whatever Belos and Petro were planning, he’d stall them here as long as he could. Phoenix dug through is pockets, hoping to find some leftover glyph, but his hand closed around a small glass bottle instead. Evelyn’s explosion potion. He’d completely forgotten he’d taken it from Petro. Better than nothing.
Only Belos came around the corner dragging his stolen body along, Petro nowhere in sight. Phoenix checked the hallway behind him.
Where did he go?
Belos took a step closer, and Phoenix threw his arm out, hoping to knock him backwards, or at least make him think twice about getting closer. But the cursed mud only flew a few feet before splatting uselessly on the ground and inching back towards him, almost like it was afraid. That same fear he’d felt in the pit started to creep through Phoenix, starting in his fingertips and working its way upwards.
Belos shook his head with a cluck of his tongue. “Not as easy, as it looks, is it? Allow me to demonstrate.”
Before Belos could make another move, Phoenix hurled the explosion potion as hard as he could towards Belos, saying a silent apology to the witch whose body he was inhabiting. The potion slammed into the floor, exploding in a crack of stone and a cloud of dust. Phoenix coughed, backing away from the explosion.
Two blue eyes gleamed in the hazy cloud, and Phoenix’s stomach dropped.
Not enough.
Before Phoenix could move, Belos lunged out of the dust, gripping Phoenix’s wrist, his stolen puppet face too close too close to Phoenix’s own. “You’re flailing like a child,” he hissed, “It’s about control.” One hand slammed into Phoenix’s chest, and Phoenix flew backwards into the window with a crack. And Belos was there again, grabbing the front of Phoenix’s shirt and mashing him into the window again, this time shattering the glass. Only Belos’ grip kept him from falling out, but that same grip held him dangling out the window, unable to come back in.
Phoenix wheezed, grabbing Belos’ arm in a desperate bid to protect himself from the dizzying drop below.
Belos smirked that small, cruel smirk of his. “You never were very fond of heights, were you?” He pushed Phoenix out further, jagged shards of the window pressing into his back. Phoenix yelped, glancing again the ground below.
Please
Collector
Anyone—
“Did you really think you could use my own powers against me? Did you think this was a fight you could win?”
He held up one oozing hand, grabbing Phoenix’s forearm even as he clutched Belos’. That deep, overwhelming, primal fear swallowed Phoenix whole, and his arms burned at the touch, the mud bubbling and boiling. His hand fell away from Belos’ arm, numb as when the draining spell from the day of unity had taken over.
Belos’ triumphant face flickered, his eyes losing their blue glow to a softer green.
“Get—out,” the witch snarled in a new voice.
Their trembling hand dropped Phoenix, smacking themself instead. Phoenix tumbled out the window with a strangled scream, clawing frantically at the air.
Sorry, Collector. I really did try to wait for you.
His back slammed into a glowing star, sending the whole thing into a nauseating wobble. Phoenix yelped, scrambling from the edge of the star to the center, and bumping directly into Petro.
“Quit that,” Petro snapped. With a twist of his staff, ropes appeared around Phoenix’s arms, pinning him just a little too tight. “You’ll make us both fall.”
“Why?” Phoenix gasped. He couldn’t get the whole sentence out, couldn’t say “why would you save me,” but based on Petro’s scowl, he understood.
Petro swung one leg over his staff. “Wasn’t my decision,” he grumbled. He hopped off the star, hovering to the side, just as Belos leapt from the window, landing lightly on the star. “I would have watched you fall.”
Belos eyed Phoenix with an unsettling, hungry, pleased look, wiping teardrops of cursed mud away from his eyes. “A body more accustomed to this condition… I think it will last longer, once Raine’s is done.”
Suddenly, the drop to the isles below seemed a lot more appealing. Phoenix scooted away from Belos and closer to the edge of the star. Maybe once they got closer to the ground…?
Petro’s face darkened at Belos’ words, flickering with some emotion Phoenix couldn’t quite read. Relief that he wouldn’t be the one possessed anymore? Anger and hurt that he was being replaced once again by Phoenix?
Belos, for his part, just looked amused by Phoenix’s scramble to get away. “Later, perhaps. This body hasn’t given out yet. And there’s something I need to do before I track down my wayward brother.”
Phoenix glanced again at Petro for a clue, but his face had turned stony and blank—a guard’s face.
Belos turned the star towards the center of the isles, where his keep used to be. “Enough delay. I will finish what we started. Once and for all.”