Pluton possessed impressive combat skills. He quickly proved that he knew just where to punch to render the limbs thoroughly weak. He was swift, nimble, and tricky. But Raechi declared an unexpected second round when Waverly tripped him just as he tripped her.

In that round, Pluton kept wary eyes on her, revealing that it was his first time tying with an opponent.

"Very clever." He smirked with a squint. "You surprised me there. I now have reason to believe you're not as sluggish as you seem."

When he grabbed her good arm and made to twist, Waverly locked his legs with hers and kicked forward. Again, they both fell – face flat to the ground. Raechi's growl proved she was far from happy with having to declare a third round, especially when the fight was not as interesting as she had hoped.

By then, Pluton was eyeing Waverly as one would a fallen tree branch on which they had tripped far too many times.

"Will you tell me what you're doing here?" He asked, back stepping lightly.

"None of your business." She replied, keeping both eyes on his hands and feet.

He halted with a pout. "Aw, come on. I can tell you're alive, y'know. You're still warm. My guess is you're just as unlucky as me and hoping to get out of here, isn't that right?"

She paused to think. "Maybe."

"You can't let me win, but you can't win either, and if Raechi loses her patience, she'll set the dogs on us both." He tsked. "You don't want that. I know. So, I'll make you a deal."

Waverly's gaze surreptitiously traveled to Raechi, perched on a high bench in front of a stone table covered with bleached food. As a result of the distance, it was possible she could not hear squat, but the frown on her face was as distinct as daylight.

"What deal?" She asked, engaging in frequent strikes so that Raechi would not detect their ongoing conversation. Funny thing was, she felt it a much better alternative to sit and discuss with Pluton. He seemed very much like the comfortable, interesting type to be around.

"I don't like those bloody dogs, and trust me, you won't like them either." He threw a casual peep at Raechi. "I let you pin me to the ground and you get your dagger, but I get to come along with you."

"Why?" She frowned.

He swiftly came to restrain her from behind and whispered into her ear. "Because you're my ticket out of The Loathe as I am yours to getting what you want. There's no time. Do it now!"

Without waiting for more prompts, she flipped Pluton over her shoulder and he fell on his back with a hard thud. Raechi broke into boisterous laughter and a brief applause as she approached.

"Didn't see that one coming now, did you, Pluton?" She sneered and made an attacking gesture to which he flinched in response. Then her hateful glare settled on Waverly. "For the prize, come with me. You're not so bad, snail."

The prize was a crooked dagger shaped like a thunderbolt with a wooden hilt that sported several holes and depressions. The blade was, thankfully, keen as even Calaire. It drew blood upon the slightest touch, and Waverly had to be extra careful when belting it. As soon as Raechi disappeared back into her station, Pluton snuck out.

"Why do you tiptoe?" Waverly asked in wonder.

But he only grabbed her arm in haste, and they took off down the narrow road. There, he gave an answer.

"I owe her a debt." He seemed uncomfortable as the words left his lips.

Waverly quickly put two and two together. "You fight for entertainment to clear it off. You've been on the lookout for a means to escape, and here I am."

His sly smirk returned. "You're clever. . . and smart. I'd like to think those are two very different words."

"I wonder why you think escaping to The Coath will be more beneficial. It's just as unpleasant as this layer."

"Yes, but The Coath is a free place. No soul is held bound nor controlled by a thousand pound master."

Waverly's face paled in disgust. "It's ripe with diseases and temptations and discord. There's nothing good up there."

He stopped in his tracks and heaved a sigh that sounded much like one of relief. The streets were totally clear. Everyone seemed to have dispersed in search of the so-called pass they believed was lying about somewhere.

"If so, why do you aim to return?"

Her head reared. "Because I was never meant to be down here. I'm not dead."

"Neither am I." He said and pulled her dagger free before she could object. The next second, he had drawn blood from his index and was showing it to her. "See? I still bleed. I don't belong down here any more than you do."

As she replaced the dagger in its sheath, she watched him pace about as though he could not recognize the environment and seemed to have trouble remembering which road to take. Also, he looked to be in haste for some reason. Muttering a curse, he peered from left to right.

"It's to the outskirt in that direction."

He turned to the path with a grunt. "I knew that already."

In silence, they traipsed out of the city and all the way back to the river. Its sloshing came louder, waves rolling outward with white foam and enough steely magnificence to rival the sea and intimidate whomever was caught underneath its folds. Thankfully, not a single soul was within sight.

Pluton watched the currents, his eyebrows furrowing deeply. He seemed displeased by the obstacle that was the river before him.

"How did you get across?" He wondered, chewing on his bottom lip with an intent stare fixed on the water. Every so often, his eyes would wander to the bushes or the open beach.

"I fell in."

He looked briefly at her. "So, you swam?"

"I think “pushed around” is the proper phrase. I would not call that swimming."

He scoffed a laugh, returning to stare at the waters. "You're an interesting thing. I mean that as a compliment, sincerely. Nothing ever wows in these parts, I'm sure you noticed."

"The people are interesting."

Exhaustion was settling fast on her, and as she sauntered over to a corner of the turf to sit, she prayed Pluton would think of a means for them to make it across the river without the need to get wet. She hated the idea of having to swim again. Additionally, a nasty feeling that warned of a possible ambush had started to creep up the sole of her foot.

"Those gee-eyed, half-witted, sheets in the wind?" His cackle was short-lived. "And they mindlessly follow that cittern-head of a leader called Duke Fletcher. It's no wonder they're all still a circus of roving vagabonds in such a big city, and imagine that!"

"Why?" She queried, mostly because she was curious. Her eyes took in the trees. They were of strange kinds she had never seen.

"Why, it's their curse. It's what they suffer when they drift here."

"How come you don't suffer it then? Aimlessness and. . . the properties of a roving vagabond?"

Pluton walked the length of the little beach like a land surveyor. "I told you, I'm alive."

"How did you get here?"

He threw her a look. "None of your business."

She nodded in casual concedence and muttered, "Fair."

For a moment, Pluton's eyes stayed on her, then he paused altogether in his survey. "Y'know, a woman who knows how to sweep a man off his feet – literally – and handle a witty rejoinder with as much grace as you do is a woman I find gripping."

Waverly fixed her gaze on him.

He seemed to flinch. "And I can't help but wonder about what truth lies beneath all that focus in your eyes. You're hardly distracted."

"If I risked it, someone would steal my dagger, and I wouldn't last very long without one."

He humphed aloud. "You strike me as a Lady."

"I'm sorry, do you mean to say that, otherwise, I am. . ." She lifted an eyebrow. "masculine?"

He heaved a sigh. "Good gracious, no. No. I mean you show the behaviors of a Lady – of The High Houses; prim and aristocratic in speech and in mannerisms. The only thing that would throw me off that theory is how well you can grip that dagger of yours. Believe it or not, I am able to sense a good warrior from a hedge away and you have the makings of one, though without enough proof. Maugre, you tripped me thrice."

"The third came with your permission."

"It would've come without it nohow." He reasoned. "You have a hardness about you that tells me you've witnessed much. You are no common traipser."

"Are you going to spend eternity dissecting your suspicions about me, or are you going to figure out a way to cross the river?"

Pluton hummed. "There it is again. That straightforwardness. I admire it, really. You can't be thrown off course so easy. Now, tell me how you came to arrive the beach."

Again, she did a retelling of her unfortunate accident. Pluton stroked his chin with acute attentiveness.

"How did you come to be at the top of the waterfall?"

"I was searching for a way out."

His tone sounded hopeful. "Did you find it?"

"If I had, I wouldn't be here now, would I?"

"Where is this waterfall?"

She turned and pointed. "Farther upstream. But it would take us ages to walk down there, and I truly cannot walk such a long distance. I feel much too spent."

"I noticed." He frowned. "You behave as though you carry a weight invisible to the eye. Queer! Hmm. If you cannot walk, then I'll have to carry you on my back."

"What?" She paled, thinning her lips.

Pluton chuckled knowingly. "Come now, this isn't my first time helping a fair mistress in distress. Besides, I owe it to you. You're about to get me out of here."

"You've gotten it all wrong, Pluton. I don't know the way out yet."

"But it's in your plans to find it, no?"

"Yes, it is."

"Satisfying enough for me. You're resourceful, and I don't doubt that you'll succeed in no time. So, here! Get on my back so we can get to the fall then figure out the rest from there."

By the time they arrived the falls, the sky had taken on an ominously dark shade, and a strange haze enveloped the land below so that it was impossible to even guess what was ahead. Lucky enough, Waverly recalled the way some of the safe side of the turf was patterned; and the number of steps they could walk before they touched the cornerstone of the cataract; and the surface where the rapids could sweep them should they step unsuspectingly. Soon, they were standing on the safe side, far from even droplets of water from the cascades, but close enough to the steep steps that led up and down the cliff.

"Uh, I left a torch somewhere up there." Waverly pointed up. The haze were so dense they made her eyes feel blind. "If we're lucky and it hasn't gone out, it would be of great use."

"The current is too swift." Pluton worriedly stated. "One misstep and we'll be tumbling to our deaths."

"Its turbulence seemed to have tripled within just a short period of time." She noted. "It didn't gush in such great volumes and the sloshes were not this loud. We have to be extra careful."

"Do you aim to find something else up there other than your torch?" He asked in a tone of concern, but the expression on his face was concealed in haze. "Y'know, you should stay down here while I go get it. I think it's safer, just in case I miss my footing. You can have a go after me. It won't be very nice if we both toppled down from that height at the same time."

Pluton started up the steps before she could find the words to object, but she kept shut and allowed him go. The simple truth was that she did not desire to risk another fall and appreciated the fellow going before her. Her body felt weaker than before irregardless of being carried all the way. By some miracle, Pluton reached the top in the darkness. A fuzzy highlight of him in a motionless poise was all that she could make out, but it was enough to confirm that he made it.

He ventured into the cavern and was gone from sight for a few minutes.

Just then, Waverly sensed movement. Lots of it – slow and otherwise, undetectable movements. Dull yellow glows began to dot the haze and before she knew it, she was looking at a huge number of dead faces, all sporting torches and weapons. Her previous haunch had been correct after all.

"It's her!" Someone yelled. "She's come in search of the pass, just like we suspected."

The crowd roared in unison and charged. Waverly unsheathed her dagger in readiness to defend herself, but a figure plummeted from above – right over her head – to stand in the way of the approaching crowd. Pluton's sudden appearance startled the entire riot to a halt.

"Square your goons off, Fletcher." He warned, waving his firebrand to shoo the front row.

"Of course you are in league with this high jink, Braund Pluton." The nobleman, Duke, scowled, brandishing his blade. "Step aside. We have a pass to find."

"There aren't any passes here, you airheads and scallywags." Pluton disclosed. "There's only nothing but a roadless, water filled cavern."

"Then what are you doing here with her?" A man accused pointing at Waverly.

"I came to help retrieve her torch, and here it is."

Duke growled in anger and lurched forward to grab hold of Pluton's collar. "Liar! I know what you're up to, maggot, but does the fair vixen? You desire to go back to the She-Devil. You want another bargain."

"What's it to you then?" Pluton huffed, trying to pry Duke away. He dropped his firebrand to make use of both hands.

Waverly gingerly picked up the stick. It had burned almost to the stout end, but was good for a few more hours. Should the fire go out, she doubted the possibility of finding another, and the agitated crowd was not exactly made up of a generous bunch either. Until she brought the flames close to herself, she did not realize how horribly cold she had been all along. The warmth, though welcoming, came as a shock.

"Beshrew you!" Duke spat, staggering back from being roughly shoved. "You selfish knave! You will abandon us again. I was right to think little of you. You have no honor!"

"What does honor matter down here, Fletcher? If you claim it so much, why hasn't it saved you yet?"

Duke focused dark eyes on Waverly. "You have no idea who you're dealing with. You so much as draw out directions for him, he'll double-cross you like the foul rapscallion he is."

Pluton wheeled to look at her for a few moments, but she could still grasp no more than the outline of his face. However, the grave look on hers did not go unnoticed.

"Don't listen to him." He implored with a small laugh.

"I don't intend to," She stated blankly. "But I did listen to you. “You can't be thrown off course so easy”? You wish I was, didn't you?"

"That was not what I meant."

She stepped away and aimed her dagger's point at him when he came near. He lifted both arms in surrender. "You stay away from me, or I'll drain every single drop of blood you've left in you."

"Careful whom you deem lousy. She may be smarter than you are." Duke chuckled. "Pluton has no right to leave The Loathe after all he's done to us. He fooled us into thinking he could lead us out if we helped him find a pass. For a while, it felt like teamwork. We formed a bond amongst ourselves that quickly became unbreakable brotherhood. And at last, we did find a pass. But he tricked us and took it alone. He visited the witch matron in secret to bargain his life back, but his plan failed, and she sent him back here."

"Is that why you were being so furtive about being seen?" Waverly asked weakly. Her glower had long died away and she doubted there was any strength left to even manage a rise in her tone.

"I'm not very fond of crowds." He replied with an innocent shrug.

"He's been hiding from us for ages, listening in on our conversations in the hopes of being led to another pass." Duke went on, rejoining his crew of angry men and women. "I suspected that should he encounter you, he would attempt another escape."

"That's why you let me go." She reasoned.

"Yes. But we tailed you both. You should thank us for unveiling Pluton's enterprise before it was too late."

"To the dogs with your need of gratitude." Waverly snarled quietly, refusing to compromise. "I came in alone. I'll leave alone. And I swear to Selene that if any one of you tries to follow me, he won't live to tell the others what he saw."

She hefted the torch and looked at Pluton. "I hope you become wiser than this. A bargain, of whatever kind, with Hekate is not worth it."

With that, she paced from the crowd.

"She knows the way out of here, I promise." Pluton said aloud in an angry growl. "She's my only chance of leaving this place for good – our only chance. If we let her go, then we're stuck here forever."

"E's go'h a point, fellas." A man piped enthusiastically. "We can led' er lave."

"Stop the vixen!"

Before Waverly knew it, she was grappling with three people and more were joining in. They grabbed at her, attempting to restrain her arms, but she wriggled free and fended them off with her new dagger. Without warning, someone launched themself at her and they keeled into the rapids together. The water tossed and slapped her about, escalating her anger and upset about getting wet again.

Eventually, the currents separated her from the straggler. She fought to swim to the surface, but found that she was being dragged down by something that tugged continuously at her waist.

Even though it was impossible to sense anything in the chaos, she was aware of the rope coiled around her midsection that had come loose. She became conscious of it yanking her down to the river bed – where the currents did not reach and it was a lot calmer – to see its ends embed under a fat lump of moss-covered rock. Suspicious of what the object was, she pried the solid lid off and gaped at the opening covered by a translucent film that protected it from vacuuming water. Overwhelmed by relief, she reached for the viscid film and was shocked when it peeled off, subsequently sucking her in.

She came up into more water, surprised that she was still under. But when her head broke through the surface, the whitish turf of The Loathe was gone - replaced by a vast empty landscape.

Soon, she had splashed up to land, coughing and heaving. The river was a lot calmer on this side, running almost motionlessly, until it vanished into the horizon in both directions. For a while, she sat there, wondering which way the water came and which way it went, and why she was suddenly feeling less and less tired.

"Hullo there, lassie!" Came a voice from behind. "Hullo, do you need some help?"

Waverly shut her eyes from being faintly pleased by the mere sound of the speaker's voice. She rose and turned to face him and he came to an abrupt halt mid-float.

"By gum!" Ghost exclaimed, floating forward in a hurry. If he were solid, he would have either lifted her into a hug or crashed into her with one – either way, it would have been bear sized. "Oh, good grief! Oh, dearie me! I knew you'd come back. I just knew you would."

She could not help the smile that graced her face. When he came up close, she could have sworn she saw into his eyes, and he vibrated so much that he was beginning to look like dispersing smoke.

"Hello again, Ghost." She beamed. "I'm very glad it's you I've met first."

"As am I. Truly I was afraid you wouldn't make it back, but I reminded myself over and over that as long as you could survive The Hoax, then you should most definitely brave The Loathe. And here you are!"

She gestured to the river. "Did you know I was going to come back out that way?"

"Oh, dear no!" He chuckled in mild astonishment. "If there's any such thing as luck down here; or a coincidence rather is what I'd call it, but, by gum, I was just passing by. I'd gone off to visit Pamola and was well off on my way back when the river began to swirl. . ."

He faltered as his attention shifted to the river. Waverly heard the frown in his voice. "Just like it's doing now."

Turning about, she saw that the river really was swirling into a big, underwater tornado. The force of it shook the ground and rattled stones all about.

"Er, did you by any chance make some new friends?" Ghost seemed far from afraid, but he did sound worried.

As several heads popped out of the sea storm, Waverly began to back step. "Not the very friendly kind."

"Then off we go. Now!"

Sprinting across an empty plane was much better than a plane covered in ruins, but the greater disadvantage with the former laid in there being no place to hide. For a length of time, Waverly ran with Ghost – in a straight line – without any shelter in sight. She had already begun to doubt that she was back in The Coath, until figures appeared in the horizon – of mountainous rocks.

"There!" Ghost cautioned. "Pamola's ravine. Go to it! Tell her I sent you."

"Where will you go?" She shouted as he floated in a different direction. The idea of seeking refuge with a very unfriendly water guardian was no form of solace, but she could vouch Pamola would be less eager to unhinge her head than the approaching storm of a crowd.

"To Zors. He and the others must know you have returned. Go, now!"

Without a moment to lose, she made a beeline for the ravine. Because she was approaching it from the rear end, the rocks looked a lot more different than she had seen them from the front. The nearer she came, the harder she prayed that Pamola was in a good mood. Ghost had once returned from her waters, laughing. That alone told her the water spirit had to have a soft side.

She halted when she reached her destination, leaning against the overheated stone to catch her breath. The roaring crowd was nowhere within sight.

Yet.

It seemed that by opening the underwater portal, she had equally given them a free pass. All of them. Including Pluton. Out of nowhere, curiosity overcame her and as she staggered further toward the ravine, she wondered the sort of nerve Pluton had to have walked up to Hekate to strike a bargain. Duke mentioned that the bargain was for Pluton's life. Why he wanted his life back was no business of hers. What he had promised Hekate in exchange was the real mind-boggler.

She curved into the bend and found Pamola's pool exactly as it were the first time she had seen it.

What offer could he have possibly made the goddess?

Given her current predicament, her mind grew desperate and began to wander quite furiously for an answer to the question. If there was the possibility of buying her way out of Nys, then she was willing to pay the cost. Yet she doubted – as a result of personal agenda and all – that Hekate would accept anything from her no matter what it might be.

But then again, in order to leave, she did not really need permission from any other than her main host. Nys could as well be her ticket out rather than Hekate. The idea was actually flawed to a great extent, but the mere theoretical possibility was enough to excite Waverly and make her ponder it.

Pamola's pool was quiet in spite of the murky flood that should have left a loud slosh in its wake. Glancing up, she glimpsed the cave that had once acted as a fortress. Then came the thought of going into it because that seemed a better alternative than whatever form of protection Pamola could offer. Though she doubted her pursuers sought to bring her harm, she figured they would anyway since they were an aggressive bunch.

At her feet, the ground began to rumble, growing louder with the passing seconds. The turbulence became so intense that she lost balance and staggered to find it.

Soon enough, she lost her footing and tumbled right into the pool.

The moment she went under, everything became still. Noise died out, and the only thing she could hear was the oddly magnified sound of her own heartbeat. She felt weightless and as no motivation to swim came, she allowed herself float. As it were around her, so was it inside her. She felt unnaturally calm.

Then, her body straightened all of a sudden and she fell right on her feet – inside a forest.

From the density of the environment, she reasoned it was actually a jungle. The smell of rain and clear wind came as refreshments to her senses. Opting to explore the unusual and foreign tropic, she made her way further in, crossing over fallen trees and ducking under low hanging branches. Her eyes roamed the cluster of vegetations and not once did she wonder why she was in it.

All of a sudden, she spotted what looked like a makeshift shelter in the distance. Before it laid a crackling fire and someone bent over that tended to the flames. Upon recognizing him, even though his back was all she saw, she beelined in a sprint.

"Jud!" She called excitedly.

Just then, reality warbled and, for a second, she glimpsed Judson rising to turn around before she felt herself blinking away slime.

Someone had yanked her right out of the pool.

Her eyes lifted and she found a curious creature peering closely at her. It looked feminine, with vines for hands, doglike teeth protruding out of its strange mouth, beady eyes, and pale skin covered in a thick film of slime. The stranger thing was that the creature was unusually big. Even though it had legs, it floated about eight feet from the ground.

Waverly shuffled back, certain that the creature was Pamola, and that Pamola was none other than a Succubus. Whether as a result of the slime caking her from head to foot or the sight of Pamola, her features contorted with great disgust.

"Ugh!" She exclaimed, lifting an arm to examine the great drool that spluttered from it. "That is the foulest pool in the whole of Nys!"

Pamola's piercing scream tore through Waverly's middle like hot knives and shook the ravine. For fear of damage to her eardrums, she covered both ears and shuffled to a stand, but the Succubus did not stop shrieking. At some point, the noise began to sound like upset cries. It was then Waverly understood what she had done.

She held out both hands. "Pamola?"

The Succubus squirmed and shook midair, oblivious and agitated, her extraordinarily long hair slapping against the rocks behind her.

"Pamola, I apologize." She shouted at the top of her voice. At that the creature fell calm, turning with a look of sheer surprise. "I didn't mean to upset you. Please, forgive me."

That being said, she focused on wiping off as much slime as he could off her skin whilst Pamola watched in silence. The task was frustrating because even as most of the mucus came away, she still felt slippery and uncomfortable. Her eyes traveled to the river – a line in the horizon. There was no way she could go to wash in it without being seen.

As if aware of her state of distress, Pamola inched close. On impulse, Waverly's head retracted. "Er, I must thank you for pulling me out before I could drown."

The Succubus opened her mouth to speak, but the sounds that came out were unintelligible screeches. It made Waverly wonder how Ghost managed to communicate. Perhaps he was fluent in Nysan Succubus.

"Ghost sent me here." She went on, recalling that she was meant to mention so. "I believe you are acquainted."

Pamola reached out and her viny hand split into slender fingers that she used to touch Waverly's face, igniting a forgotten memory in the latter's mind. Her jaw dropped as she stared open-mouthed at the Succubus.

Just then, Ghost found them.

"Oh, you are safe!" He sighed in relief. "Those instigators have caused quite the ruckus within mere moments of arriving here. They've clashed with The Balderdash. Their leader is a hoodlum and a surprisingly prim one at that. He won't listen to Zors at all. He's made the most ridiculous demands. Can you believe it?"

He paused enough to notice the pair blinking at him, and that Waverly was partly covered in goo.

"It looks like you fell into Pamola's pool." He stated, chuckling. "I understand. Pamola tells me I fell in on my first day too. I don't recall such a thing, but I believe her."

At that, Waverly remembered her mission and that she still carried a burden of memories yet to be dispelled to their rightful owners.

"Where is Zors right now?" She questioned.

"He is currently speaking to the prim hoodlum, who is called Fletcher, just beyond the stone pines."

"Where is that?"

"Quite far from here, but no worries. Reek will bring you away immediately." Ghost turned and whistled, summoning the Aur.

She climbed up Reek's back and until he rode away, her eyes lingered on Pamola.

Ghost seemed to notice the oddity because he floated close to her and whispered, "Is there a reason you stare at her that way? You need not pity her for being lonely. She has managed it for longer than you can guess. Besides, she is not particularly fond of company."

Waverly nodded in absentminded agreement because her mind was still seething with the images that had floated into her brain following Pamola's touch; memories that the creature somehow stored in her fingertips. That ability was proof enough that Pamola's powers were of a different sort. It was impossible to tell whether those memories were real since Hekate had already succeeded in befuddling her mind so that she could not tell truth from falsity, but a certain kind of conviction came, assuring her that all of it was true.

Choosing to let things be for the meantime, she focused on reaching Zors and the rest of The Balderdash so she could return their memories back to them.