The laughing God's Gambit

CHAPTER 4: The link breaker.

Boom’s workshop looked more like a tornado had blown through than any kind of doctor’s office. Ferris sat wobbling on a rickety stool, watching her rummage through jars stuffed with who knows what. Lyria just stood by the door, arms folded, trying her best to keep all the chaos at bay like that was even possible.

“Alright, stuff to make it work!” Boom announced, holding up a jar full of swirling purple smoke. “I’ve got bottled-up regret, a splash of a broken promise, and… let’s see, some lazy vibes from a bard who flunked out.” She shook another jar. Inside, a sluggish gray slug barely twitched.

“We are not using a slug,” Lyria deadpanned.

“It’s not a slug, it’s an idea!” Boom snapped, like she’d just been insulted. “Fine. Regret it is. More mellow anyway.” She popped open the purple jar. Suddenly, the whole place reeked of old roses and missed chances. Ferris felt a weird pang for a dog he’d never even owned.

“Now, the thingy!” Boom darted over to a table and came back with this small silver disc, covered in the tiniest, weirdest lines. It looked like a coin a worm had been chewing on.

“What’s that?” Ferris asked, inching away.

“A link breaker! I built it myself. It vibrates just right to mess with your bond a little. Not enough to cut you off, but you won’t feel every twitch from the other person.” She grinned, eyes wild. “At least, that’s the plan.”

“That’s the plan,” Lyria muttered, sounding bored out of her mind.

“It’s the best I’ve got right now! Alright, blood and hair. Gimme.”

Ferris sighed and jabbed his finger with the needle Boom handed over. When a drop of blood hit the disc, it sizzled and disappeared like it couldn’t wait to be inside. Lyria, making a face, yanked a dark hair out and dropped it on the disc. The thing started to glow blue.

“Nice! Now the hard part. I need you both to use a bit of magic. Just a spark!”

“My magic’s blocked by these,” Lyria said, shaking her cuffed wrists. “And it’s all over the place, anyway.”

“Maybe the bond will get around the cuffs. Come on, try! Happy thoughts!”

Lyria didn’t look convinced. She stared at her hands, focusing. Nothing happened. Then, a faint gold light broke out no sword, just a soft glow, like a tired sunrise. Weak, but better than nothing.

“Good! Now, Fox your turn! Think dark and spooky!”

Ferris concentrated. He could always feel that Ghost-Thing, like a cold weight in his chest. He pushed at it until his fingers shimmered, almost see-through. His head throbbed.

The disc started to shake, humming so hard Ferris’s teeth buzzed.

“Great! Hold it!” Boom twisted a knob on some clunky device aimed at the disc. Sparks jumped, the hum climbed, and the air got all tight.

Suddenly, the bond on Ferris’s wrist went hot, then ice-cold. He gasped. Lyria flinched, her light snuffed out.

He felt her emotions and more than that, her memories. A crumbling stone hall. A crown tumbling from a dead hand. Ash in his mouth, the taste of defeat. It wasn’t just a thought it was like he was actually there.

Go! her voice screamed, echoing in his head. Save yourself!

He shouted, falling off the stool.

Lyria’s magic flickered out. She was panting, eyes wide, angry and shocked. She’d felt his memory too. The dragon’s roar, the stench of burning treasure, the terror of giant scales.

They stared at each other, both breathing hard, like they’d been shoved into each other’s nightmares.

The humming stopped. The disc glowed soft blue.

“Nice! It worked!” Boom scooped up the disc. It was freezing cold. “The wedge is in. Things should stay quieter now no more hearing every little feeling. Probably.”

“Probably?” Ferris groaned, rubbing his head.

“The bond’s still there. You’re still stuck together, just… not as noisy. Big stuff might sneak through, if it’s bad. Keep this on you. If it breaks, the whole thing falls apart. Plus, you’ll both get a killer headache. At the same time.”

Ferris slipped the disc into his pocket. Instantly, Lyria’s presence faded. The connection was still there, but the endless background noise was gone. He actually felt relieved.

Lyria flexed her hand, face blank. But he could see it in her eyes she was rattled. She’d seen his fear. He’d seen her shame.

Finn’s voice echoed from the stairs. “Break time’s over. Trouble’s here. Cops are searching every house in the district. Reward’s gone up. They’re paying folks to rat you out.”

He tossed two cloaks onto the table. “Put these on. You’re sleeping in the boiler room tonight. It’s hot, it’s noisy, nobody goes down there. Leave at dawn through the sewers.”

“Sewers,” Lyria spat, like she was being sent to the gallows.

“Want to walk the street with your face everywhere?” Finn shrugged. “Boiler room’s this way. Don’t touch anything important.”

The boiler room was just as promised: pipes clanging, gears grinding, a furnace blazing away. The heat slammed into them. A little clearing between coal piles was all the space they got.

“Home sweet home,” Ferris muttered, tossing off his cloak. Sweat already stuck his shirt to his back.

Lyria stood by the door, eyes scanning the shadows like she’d rather be anywhere else.

Then the sewers. And then… He stopped. Then what? They were still tied. Still wanted. Still broke.

We cut this bond. For real. Then we leave each other. Her voice wasn't open to talk.

Sounds good. He found a clean spot on the coal and sat, leaning against the wall. The disc in his pocket buzzed gently. The silence was heavy, but now it was just silence, not her anger or his nerves.

Time passed slowly. The heat was bad.

Your debt, Lyria said, not looking at him. To the dragon. What did you take?

He laughed. I didn’t. That’s funny. I lost a bet.