JUDICATOR JANE 6 - CHAPTER 51

Canyons and Cliffs

Standing at the edge of a vast gorge, Jane planted her hands on her hips, eyes scanning the rugged landscape that stretched before them. Jagged mountains twisted between steep valleys and sun-scorched gullies, a stark and unforgiving terrain that drew a hard line between the verdant Mandala of Beauty and the wild, desolate lands to the south. The endless fields were finally behind them—but now, in their place, lay a labyrinth of stone and shadow.

To her right, Melindra and Dyle were bent over the ancient map they’d brought from the Mandala of Fortitude archives, tracing their fingers along faded contours and uncertain landmarks. On her left, Veralaktus stood, relaying the latest on their provisions with quiet authority.

“When the fields were abandoned, it seems an attempt was made to raze them—presumably to prevent us from reclaiming any supplies,” she said. “But their fires did little. Most of the foodstores remained untouched, and what damage was done quickly burned out. As such, our resources are more than sufficient for the final leg. Fortune has smiled on us again, it seems.”

Jane gave a distracted nod, barely hearing her. Her focus was fixed on the treacherous path ahead.

Melindra exhaled and tapped the map. “This is it. Or as close as the map can tell us. Integra should lie somewhere in that tangle of rock and stone.”

Dyle rubbed his chin, his brow furrowed. “When I first arrived in the Mandala of Beauty, I crossed paths with a group of freedom fighters smuggling slaves south. We traveled past these mountains, but stayed west of them—avoiding this entire stretch. I didn’t hear anything about a Dirthian city, but I was warned these mountains are a maze. Twists, dead ends, sheer cliffs. Moving an army through here? That might be impossible.”

Jane stroked her chin thoughtfully. “A maze, huh?”

Melindra offered cautiously, “Perhaps this would be a good opportunity for you to fly ahead—use your Luck to pinpoint the entrance.”

Jane narrowed her eyes, considering it. That was true—either she or the Darkwing Skimmers could scout from above. But would it help?

“No,” she said finally. “Even if I spot the way in, it doesn’t mean the rest of you can get there. We still have to navigate the terrain. Flying doesn’t solve the bigger problem. I think we treat this like the Terrazene Labyrinth—I’ll choose the route, and we move on foot. That way, no one’s left behind, and we keep pace. It’s a city right? There has to be a path, or some ancient road—something.”

Melindra hesitated. “And the freed humans? The dragonkin? They’re coming too?”

Right… Jane sighed. “For now, I guess so. We’ll deal with that once we know whether this Dirthian city is even the answer we’re hoping for.” She turned to Dyle. “You said there were free cities in the south, right?”

He nodded. “There are. Not perfect, but better than the Mandalas.”

“Then spread the word. Let everyone know we’re close. If they want to leave, they can. If they want to come with us, they’re welcome—as they’ve always been. But now that we’re closer to a land of actual freedom, some might think twice about following a demon horde into the unknown.”

She turned back toward the chasm, the sheer emptiness of it humming with a strange allure. We’re so close now, I can feel it.

“Come on,” she said intently. “Let’s not waste the daylight.”

***

Dyle watched from a distance as Jane paused at yet another fork in the path. She stood at the center, spun slowly with her arms outstretched, then suddenly stamped her foot—choosing neither of the obvious routes. Instead, she clambered up and over a shattered boulder, vanishing from sight. Curious, Dyle followed, the others close behind.

On the other side, a hidden path revealed itself—twisting downward into a broad gulch. His eyes narrowed, picking out broken curbstones half-buried in rubble. There’s a road here, he realized. She was right.

Behind him, the demon horde advanced without hesitation. No questions. No doubts. He shuddered as one particularly massive creature—its eight crablike legs clicking against the stone—skittered past him. There were no words to describe the force Jane now commanded. It was as if every nightmare he’d ever feared had stepped into the waking world and fallen in line behind her.

Then Melindra passed him in silence, her crimson cloak trailing behind her like blood on silk. That sent another chill through him. She was a living legend—whispered about across Arcadia alongside names like Belgoth the Storm Wizard. Lord Tygal had only said one thing about her: if you ever see her… run.

“I found her in the Netherrealm,” Jane had said offhandedly one evening. “She’s been helping me ever since.”

Jane herself… she was still in there. He could see glimpses of the girl he once knew, flickering between her sharp commands to demons twice her height and that unyielding determination to return to Arcadia. But whatever she’d become… that was his fear. Not the demons. Not the sorceress. Not even Gral’gor, who now, even more than before, carried the air of a living weapon. No—Jane was the most frightening thing of all. What he’d seen above the Mandala armies still haunted him. She wasn’t just powerful—she was unstoppable.

Whatever pride he once had in his own combat skill had quietly dissolved. He was walking among giants now. He just had to avoid getting crushed beneath their feet.

“Come on, Dyle, this way!” Jane’s voice rang out, cheerful and full of momentum. She stood ahead on a rising slope framed by jagged stone pillars, waving him forward with a grin that lit her face.

He mustered a smile, waved back, and pressed on. A part of him still wondered if his entire journey had been for nothing—Jane hadn’t needed rescuing. Not from him at least.

But he shrugged the thought away. Regret wasn’t worth the energy. He was here now. Maybe she’d need him, maybe she wouldn’t. If he was just another tool in her overflowing toolbox… that was fine.

Seeing that smile again?

That alone made everything worth it.

***

Cutting from one barely defined path to the next, Jane climbed, slid, and darted through the tangled maze of rock and stone, eyes locked ahead, laser-focused. Another etched paving stone caught her eye—half-buried under gravel and grit. I knew it! It’s a road! A pulse of excitement surged in her chest.

She glanced back, trying to temper her enthusiasm. The line of demons following her stretched in a steady, silent rhythm. She spotted Balostroze casually pulverizing a boulder blocking the way, clearing the path for smaller demons like it was nothing. Oops. Maybe I should be doing that with my Gavel of Repentance. She shook her head. No time—just keep going.

She picked up speed, eyes scanning for the next break in the path. But the route didn’t twist this time—it pressed forward in a narrow corridor flanked by sheer canyon walls rising forty feet or more. A natural funnel, directing her onward.

Until it didn’t.

Without warning, the path ended at a towering stone wall—seamless, ancient, and identical to the cliffs on either side. A dead end.

“What?” Jane muttered, skidding to a halt. She scanned the walls around her for an opening, a cave, anything. Nothing. “Okay…” She closed her eyes, spun in place, and stomped down, hoping her Luck would nudge her the right way. But when she opened her eyes again, she was still facing the same wall. “Well that doesn’t make any sense.”

The demons began to gather behind her, breath heavy from the climb. Melindra pushed forward through the crowd, her gaze flicking from Jane to the sheer stone wall. “A dead end?”

Jane folded her arms, nodding forward. “Looks that way. But my Luck is still pointing in that direction.”

Melindra stepped forward, tracing her fingers along the stone, her eyes narrowing as she inspected every crack and crevice. Then she shifted to the canyon walls on either side, repeating the same careful study. “I see…” she murmured. “Yes. It’s close—very close. But not identical.” She drew a slender blade from her side and scraped it against the wall.

Jane leaned closer, watching as dust and debris flaked away. Beneath it, faint, straight lines began to emerge—too clean, too deliberate.

“This isn’t natural,” Melindra announced. “Someone built this wall. And a very long time ago.”

Jane nodded slowly as the faint outline of bricks or tiles began to reveal themselves beneath layers of mud and time. “Alright then—let’s see how sturdy they made it. Everyone stand back.”

As the crowd backed away, Jane summoned her Gavel of Repentance, sizing it to a manageable ten feet. With a running start, she leapt and brought it down dead center.

The wall exploded, crumbling like dry plaster beneath the blow. Dust billowed outward. She took a few extra swings to be sure, reducing the barrier to rubble.

Waving the cloud of grit aside, she stepped forward. The wall had been thick—at least five feet deep. But beyond it, a new path extended into the shadows.

“Well,” Jane said, brushing the dust from her hands, “that solves that problem.” She turned and flashed Melindra a thumbs-up. “Let’s keep moving.”

Without waiting for a reply, she darted through the opening.

This time, she didn’t have to go far. The path soon opened into a vast clearing, and beneath her boots, a carefully maintained road emerged—smooth, tiled, and clean. Ahead, it looked as if the canyon itself had been hollowed into a partial dome, the stone walls rising high above in a graceful arch. Overhead, the last sliver of sun was dipping out of sight.

Walking into it, she saw every inch of ground was paved and pristine. It was also deathly quiet—not a soul in sight.

And on the farside—carved directly into the canyon wall—stood two towering rectangular doors, each over thirty feet high and flanked by intricately carved stone pillars.

Jane drew in a sharp breath. “That’s it. It has to be…”

Her voice dropped to a whisper.

“Integra. The capital city of the dwarves.”