Jak and Daxter: Legacy

Chapter 14: Lady Unne

"Jak, you're doin' it again."

"Doing what?"

"Wearin' that goofy, wide-eyed, 'hello, I'm new here, would ya like to rob me' look. Pretend someone pissed in your drink and walk down the street like you're off to go knee cap 'em."

Jak readjusted his posture and expression. "Like this?"

"I said 'irritated', Jak. Not constipated."

Jak groaned and dragged his fingers down his own face, gripping at the skin. "I hate this place. And are we in Canalside yet?"

"You'll know when ya start seein' waterfalls and it smells less like garbage."

"But all of Haven smells like garbage."

"I said 'less like garbage', didn't I?"

"I need a bath."

True to Daxter's word, they eventually came upon a place full of waterfalls that smelled less like garbage. The buildings here were sturdier than in the district they'd come in through (which Daxter had informed him was called the Slag), adobe-like with white stone buildings stacked atop each other like bricks, hundreds of uniform, gridlike windows cut into their sides, and pipes running through and out of them.

Jak surmised the brass pipes must have been here first, of Precursor make, then the houses and shops had been built around them. Water flowed from them at all levels into canals in the middle of the streets. It was somewhat clean compared to the black river in the Slag, but nothing like the crystal waters of Sandover.

The mist and rush of the waterfalls and the occasional hum of zoomers overhead jostled memories of a better place. If he pretended hard enough when he closed his eyes, he could once again see the jungle river back home and rainbow birds soaring through jade canopy, the air fresh, everything warm and light and safe.

I miss Sandover, he thought as he opened his eyes again. And I never thought I'd say that.

Like in Brightport, there were many shops in Canalside, though more space stood between them, and they were more elegantly decorated. So many jewelry, art, clothing, and instrument stores beckoned to them on their way down the streets, their items and music woven in styles and in harmonies he'd never seen or heard before. Punctuated between were the savory scents of street food vendor stalls tickling his nose, and his stomach would always rumble in reply, scratching even harder when he remembered how much food they didn't have in the pack on his pauldron.

"I'm going to eat all of that someday."

"I could swipe some, if ya want?"

The way Daxter licked his lips and looked over the food with sparkly eyes as they passed one made Jak instinctively put his hand on Daxter's scruff and pinch, now well-trained to look for such signs.

"Hey, what's the big idea?"

"Down boy."

"But-"

"No."

Daxter crossed his arms and drooped his ears. "You're no fun."

After turning a corner, the buildings at street level around the bend changed. They were near matches for many of the wooden tribal huts in the south, but displayed all four colors of eco together in a rainbow of banners. There were crystal lamps instead of eco gas ones, and - to Jak's grinning delight - plants, vines woven over eaves, and flowers and little trees in pots beside doors and windows.

Long eared folk of every hue were abundant. The older ones wore simple southern garb. The main difference from those back home was that they wore shoes. The youth seemed to have adopted northern clothes, though still kept their ears long, and wore neck scarfs or arm bands of their eco's color.

"Why didn't you tell me this was here?"

"Oh, Wise Junction? Kinda forgot it was here, actually. It's not even its own district, but it's where the few bumpkins in the city live together."

A flutter of hope flew in his heart. Maybe Haven won't be so bad? Maybe we could even find a place to stay here?

In the middle of the street, further down the road, awaited the largest structure. Its dark wood outer walls were carved with depictions of Precursors and celestial night sky, and hanging from the hip-and-gabled eaves were eco crystals in a repeating pattern of all four colors, hewn into the shape of dew drops.

Through the archway to its courtyard, a little pond glimmered, hugged by glowing yellow starblossoms. In the water's center, atop volcanic red glass on a mossy island, sat a perfectly round light eco crystal, clutched by a four-fingered hand of brass.

Even at this distance, Jak could feel it pressing on his dark eco wound, but just like the one in the Precursor Basin city, the crystal didn't set it off like Erol's light eco in Brightport had.

The dark eco must react differently to light eco when it's contained, Jak thought. Does the crystal imprison it somehow?

Behind more of the building's walls rose the top of an enormous weeping willow, its strands fluttering like long green hair in the wind. A wrought glass tube sign containing eco over the front gate glowed in Precursorian, "The Willow House". Milky floral scent greeted them as they walked into the garden courtyard. Just as they reached the door, it whipped open.

Out walked a young woman with long ears. She wore a hybrid between a dress and sage's robe with an off the shoulder neckline. Her sleeves cascaded at the top in layers, then were snug from the elbows down, long square panels draping beneath. The skirt was embroidered with rivers and stars atop midnight blue silk. A brass hairpiece like the furl of an ocean's wave shone in her hair around a sky-colored bun.

Eyeshadow that matched the swirls of blue paint on her cheeks glittered as she blinked blankly in surprise.

Jak gave a little head bow and backed away, hoping he hadn't scared her. "Sorry, didn't see you coming."

She gave a saccharine, cerulean-lipped smile back and nodded. As she walked by, Jak looked back. She held a loaded pistol behind her with her finger on the trigger, which she subtly tucked into the wide sash of the large bow around the back of her waist as she turned the outer wall corner and left.

That's bizarre, Jak thought, exchanged a puzzled look with Daxter, then continued.

The Willow House's door rang with sage's chimes as Jak and Daxter entered. A large receiving room waited beyond, its floors polished light wood, the walls covered with wallpaper that showcased rural scenes of long-eared folk by mountains, villages, rivers, and forests. Brass vases held fresh cut lunar roses, their centers white and edges dyed in a rainbow of colors, and somewhere close by Jak could pick out the soothing trickle of water. The room smelled of pipe smoke and aged pine, though the same floral perfume of the courtyard danced lightly between their darker notes.

At the front counter stood two people. One was a northern human in fine green clothes on the customer end, and someone Jak couldn't see behind them on the other.

"Mr. Blott is offering you good money to have all the girls there tonight. Thousands! And the Baron will be there! In what world can a woman like you even think of refusing?"

A woman's voice like sparkling starlight replied, "In a world where reservations are valued, my sweet. You know how much me and my ladies love Mr. Blott. But we also love our other customers. And we've already made promises to entertain at their establishments."

"They can't surely be paying you more than what he's offering?"

"Reservations."

The man slammed his hands on the counter. "If you don't have a girl of every color there tonight, Mr. Blott will be very upset. And you know how he gets when he's upset."

"Look, I understand the predicament you're in." A delicate hand patted the man's. "He's your big, big boss, and you're the ever loyal employee who just wants to please him. I can offer him both of the girls that are free tonight, but no more. Surely two greatly talented and beautiful eco artisans are better than none?"

He made a sound akin to growling, then crossed his arms. "Fine. But at half price."

She giggled. "You wouldn't want my girls to starve, would you? Two artisans, full price, but I'll throw in a full reservation for the lovely Mr. Blott of all my girls at a later date for one night of his choosing, at three quarters of the regular fee. How about that?"

"I… suppose that will do."

"Good, now let me write up that agreement for you to take to Mr. Blott, hmm? Oh, and one more thing-"

There was a shuffle of something being slid across the counter. "These are for him. Be sure to bring them to him for me along with the agreement."

"Sash Orange Chocolates? How did you-?"

"A little green birdy that attended his last party told me he had a fondness for them. And here is the reservation agreement. Have him send it back to me a month in advance of when he wants to use it."

"Well… that's quite kind of you. Thank you, Lady Unne."

"You're very welcome. Precursors bless your day."

He turned around and headed for the entrance. As he walked by Jak, his pleased demeanor changed to one of disgust. "What are you lookin' at, leaf-eared street rat?"

Daxter stuck out his tongue at him as soon as the man's back was turned.

When Jak glanced back at the counter, Lady Unne was apparent in every sense of the word. She had golden hair in an elaborate bun, and wore a headpiece like the blue girl had, but in the shape of a radiant sun, as if it were dawning from her skull. Her dress was similar to the first woman's, but yellow, copper, and white, so long she looked like she was floating when she walked.

She pulled out a long brass pipe and lit it, putting the stem to her cherry lips and reclining on a white velvet seat behind the counter. She inhaled deeply, amber eyes closing, the golden shadow on her eyelids gleaming under the dim light. She sighed out smoke with slow relief.

After the exchange she'd just had with the customer, Jak didn't want to disturb her peace, but she froze midpuff when Daxter started ruffling around in Jak's pauldron pack. She looked Jak over, relaxed again, and continued her inhale, savoring every last bit of it before exhaling and rising through the furling clouds.

He timidly walked up and bowed deeply to her. "Ma'am… I don't mean to bother you. But someone asked me to deliver something to Tess Unne."

Daxter leapt to the counter and left the sealed letter before her, nudging it forward with his nose. When he didn't turn around again to return to Jak's shoulder, instead trilling at her and wagging his tail, Jak wondered why he was being so friendly all of the-

Jak glanced at her blonde hair and felt like smacking his own forehead. Of course.

She reached out a hand, pet Daxter's head, then took the letter. "I am. Where did you get this?"

"Sig. We were going through the Underport together. But he couldn't fit through a certain part, so he asked me to get this to you. The bridge was closed. He said he'd visit when he could."

"Couldn't fit? Has he been stuffing his face with Mrs. Cian's cookies again?"

Jak scratched the back of his head. "He said it was a new part of his arm, or something. But he did pick up some cookies on the w-"

She burst out laughing, deep from her belly rather than the light giggle she'd shared with the northerner before. "That man can't help himself, can he? Well, I'll be glad to meet with him when he returns. And I'll tell him his errand boy was ever so polite and sweet, if I may have his name?"

"Uh, Jak?"

Daxter pawed at her hand and squeaked, his head cocked.

"And Jak's adorable ottsel too, of course," she said, scratching Daxter's chin. With her other hand, she dug through her sleeves and then held her fingers out. A few black circles of metal clinked into Jak's palm as he took it.

"What is this?"

"Payment."

"Like… orbs?"

"Ahh, you must be new to the city. Yes, much like orbs down south, but they're called coins. I threw in an extra for your sweet little ottsel. Buy him a treat with it for me, hmm?"

At her wink down at Daxter, the ottsel started wagging his tail harder than ever before. Jak grabbed him and put him on his shoulder, then bowed again. "Thank you for your kindness."

Outside, as soon as they turned the corner around the outer wall of the Willow House, Daxter blurted, "I'm gonna marry her someday."

"So… where now?"

"Well, we've tried the Slag, Canalside, and the Port. Anywhere up higher would be too expensive. Plus, those snobs would probably take one look at ya and clutch their purses real quick."

Jak sighed. "Of course they would."

They'd been searching for a place to stay all afternoon. Every inn they'd approached either was suddenly closed or had no vacancy when he walked in. At first, he'd wondered what bad luck he had. But after the tenth time, he started to get suspicious.

He waited nonchalantly outside of the last one, back against a pillar, arms crossed, pretending to admire the skyline. Northern humans and other races walked in and out of the same inn freely, those going in with suitcases and bags miraculously not coming back out.

"I don't know what's worse. The people back home, or the people here?"

"People find a way to be shitty everywhere."

"They sure do."

"Well, what about that temple Sig mentioned? He said they might be able to help."

"I'm thinking that's our only option left. Where to?"

Daxter guided him to the south district, which had three names. The first part they walked through was Cogshadow. True to its name, most of the buildings were beneath Mar's Bridge, pooled up around its legs, tucked between old spare gears no longer attached to the top, or suspended off the side of it with massive pipes as their foundations.

The buildings got noticeably more ramshackle past the bridge. Steam filled the wet streets, leaking through wooden hovel windows, creeping around corners, following dirty faced folk who trudged on by, many of which Jak noticed were Yin, Klaww, and a race he'd never seen before.

They had legs like a bird's, scaly and taloned, and a feathered torso, but their hands were more similar to the Babak and humans. Their faces were primate-esque as well, made of saggy skin, mouths usually in a naturally pouty, disapproving frown. The other large differences were the long feathers on their arms and on the crests of their heads, and their eyes, which shared the colored irises of humans', but over black sclera.

In the middle of the east side of the district were lines of tents and stalls in the small alleys between factories. When Jak had asked what a factory was, Daxter's reply was, "places where lots of limbs are lost and crap gets made", which like most of Daxter's colorful explanations, still made no sense to him.

At the far end of the district, tucked in a crooked corner, rested an eye-soothing pocket of green foliage around a stone building with holes in the roof and sides, patched with wood planks and drapings of sun bleached cloth. Daxter tapped on his shoulder and pointed towards it.

The temple was full to bursting with people. Children watched the sunset listlessly from the open windows or ran about, and adults stood around in acquiantanced throngs, faces tired and dirty, everything they owned slung over their backs in patchwork rucksacks. Most were southerners like himself, though a few Babak and some of the bird-like folk he'd seen outside were also there.

Jak was suddenly very aware of his new racing clothes and the pistol on his hip when he walked in. He tried to keep to the edges as he entered, but he stuck out like a fire in the night, and the looks he garnered ranged from disappointed to disgusted.

In the temple itself, he recognized elements of southern religious traditions, from the ash urns in carved pockets on the back wall, to incense burners frothing with both ambersinge and the sweet tang of yenu, and the incorporation of eco colors in the decorations, but some parts were new to him.

There was a leader figure at the door dressed like a sage, though she wore a white robe and sashes of all four colors instead of just one. Blessings were sealed depending on the visiting parishioner's choice; the very few green folk had the familiar cedar sap rubbed down their nose's bridge, but others used water, volcanic ash, or a white mud-like paste.

The bird-like people passed around a pipe of sorts as they conducted their services in one corner, and the Babak by the back chanted and used a hand gesture that looked as if they were taking something from their heart and pushing it into the earth.

Most of the people were not praying, however. A line had formed behind a less elaborately dressed leader off to the side. Unlike the main leader, he looked like he hadn't slept in days, his yellow hair in messy, sweaty repair, furiously scribbling away at something on the podium he stood at. No one left him with a smile, and few traveled to where he'd pointed behind him, instead storming out.

"That's all you can give to us? Our homes were taken! We have nowhere else to go!"

"I understand, ma'am, but many people here are in the same boat. We have to be fair to everyone. Give everyone the same chance. If we had more resources-"

"First, those tyrants take over our village, then the cheap imitations for sages in their disgusting city have the gall to tell me they can't help?"

"I was trained by a real sage, ma'am."

"Obviously not!"

She slapped at the podium. Papers and a pen went flying. The two children behind her clinging to her skirts could hardly keep up as she stormed out.

Jak sat on the floor by the burners, watching the line, waiting, understanding as time went on and he heard more stories that Glowrend hadn't been the only village that the Baron and Erol had targeted, though no others had been bombed, simply taken over, their sages thrown out. As day died to night, the line started to dwindle. Only when it was a few people long, Jak went up.

The yellow-haired sage at the podium didn't look up at Jak as he neared, only adjusted his spectacles. "Name and need?"

"I-I… um, Jakan Kur."

A scribble. "Mm-hmm?"

Jak lowered his head in shame. To be so low as to beg for help, especially when others probably needed it more… the elderly couple behind him, the young woman with three children, the preteen twin brothers at the back of the line...

"I guess I don't know what I need. I'm new to the city. No place said there was vacancy to stay, and I need work."

"The waiting list for a job through our connections is a year."

"A year?"

The sage flinched a little, likely suspecting another tirade. "Used to be they took as many southerners as they could. But it drove wages down. Northerners complained that too many of us were working in the factories, and we accepted lower pay, so less of them were being hired. The Baron and our delightful prince put a limit on how many southerners can be hired, hence the wait. If you can channel, the wait is moreso a month or two. Can't promise it'll be sagely work, though. Likely house servitude. Training little ones to channel or keeping boilers running."

"There's nothing that's faster?"

The sage set his pen down and sighed. "The brothel's always taking people."

Jak's cheeks burned.

"I'll take that as a 'no'. Well, I can either add you to our waiting list, or you can try your luck with some of the factory owners. They don't take kindly to southerners usually, though some might hire you under the table. You're a good bargain, you see. One they may be willing to risk the law for."

Jak sighed. "And… anywhere to stay?"

"Lucky you. We have one space left open. You're only allowed one night and one meal, though. There are too many folk passing through here for us to offer any more."

Jak froze. He couldn't see the people behind him, but he could easily picture their faces upon hearing that, especially the elderly couple's only mere feet from his back. Without hesitation, he replied, "I'd rather someone else take the spot and food."

"Very well? Well, I wish you luck, young ma-"

"Do you need any help?"

Daxter dug little claws in his shoulder, but Jak ignored him.

"We can't pay you."

"Not for pay. I can channel. I was taught to offer help when it was needed." Jak gave a gentle but threatening shoulder shrug to Daxter, who started prickling his claws again. "So if there's anyone with wounds or bones in need of mending. Or if not, just general help-"

"My, a green channeler?" He adjusted his spectacles again. " I haven't seen one of you in years. You're a long way from home."

When he looked skeptically at Jak's hair and eyes, Jak raised a hand and summoned a flicker of green eco behind his other hand to hide it from others.

"How trained are you?"

"I was a sage's apprentice."

"By the Precursors… we've had some green channelers here before, but none on the level of sage-trained. There are so many that could use your help. Normally, healing skill of that caliber costs hundreds, and only northerners are allowed to work as official doctors..."

"So, is that a yes?"

It was Kunino all over again, though far less bloody. They'd set him up in a walled, dead garden behind the temple away from prying eyes, and many folk filed from the temple's back entrance, almost none with less than two ailments in need of healing. He could tell most had never seen green eco work before; as he sealed their cuts, mended their bones from factory accidents, and drew out infections, their eyes gleamed with jade light and hope.

Exhausted, he'd slumped to the ground midway through the night after all had been attended to. As he fell asleep, the last thing he saw was a little girl with blue hair outside a small gap in the garden wall, peering at him curiously. She stood there for a while, then reached in, picked a dead flower, and left.

The next thing he knew, he was in the garden again with the temple at his back, the suns rising, and the sound of stirring industry chugging around him. A threadbare blanket was draped over him that he hadn't remembered putting on. Daxter was curled up next to him, a half-eaten dried fish between his twitching, dreamstruck paws.

As Jak watched the suns rise and chewed on his last piece of jerky and dried fruit, he realized something inside himself was mending, as well: a feeling that he perhaps had been the shield between someone's life and death at least once the night before, and it gave him hope for a cure of his own, someday.

It was then that, upon glancing up, something stunned him to the core. The steam of the waking factories was still only at ground-level, having not yet had time to rise to obscure the sky. There, in faded, gigantic letters, "Hagai Industries" rested on the side of the largest factory by the part of Old Town that brushed up against Haven Port. Jak blinked once, twice, and then a third time, making sure he was reading it right. The same name always stared back.

As the morning went on, the suns moved behind the factory's black metal frame, casting all of the district - and Jak - beneath a deep, dark shadow. The factories' steam rose again, obscuring the name once more.

It's probably a common last name, he thought, then fell asleep again.

"I hope you understand what that healin' might have cost ya."

Jak and Daxter were making their way through Haven's lower districts again, and had been since that morning. The sky had grayed and started to sprinkle by noon, and every single factory or shop they'd visited and asked if they were hiring told him they didn't need help (or graciously left out 'no tribals need apply' signs on the windows), but Jak's spirits were higher than ever.

He looked up at the ottsel on his shoulder. "Hmm?"

"Look, I wasn't tryin' to convince ya to not help at the temple last night out of bein' a jerk."

"What do you mean?"

"You're a channeler. An extremely well-trained one. Ya heard what the sage guy said. But word gets out about you, there could be slavers hauntin' our tracks in no time."

"You really think any of those people would do that?"

"Desperation can make people do bad things. They might sell ya out just to feed themselves. Or someone bad might have walked by and seen ya."

"Oh," a pang of fear nibbled at his stomach, eating his good spirits away. "And here I thought I was being a hero."

"Ya were. It's just that heroes don't survive long in Haven. No one comes out of this city without a sin or two. Let's just cross our fingers no one rats ya out. In the meantime, we gotta focus on a place to stay. Then work."

"Got any ideas, Mr. Haven Expert?"

"I do. But you're not gonna like it one bit."

When they got to where Daxter had led them, Jak indeed didn't like it one bit. They were descending into Sewerhusk through a different entrance than they'd entered Haven with. The center of the city beneath the pillar was a massive hole into the earth, crisscrossed with pipes and cogs, with a single brass metal path winding down in spirals around the hole's edge, every step bringing them farther away from the light of day, into the dark of the city's underbelly. The reek of sewage punched his nose in unrelenting blows before long.

"Dax, I'm not sure there's enough breathable air in Sewerhusk to survive a whole night."

"Don't worry. It's totally liveable."

"We're gonna smell like shit."

"Newsflash, Jak, we already smell like shit. We're in Haven. It's a pretty permanent perfume."

Jak sighed. "I went from a nice, warm straw bed in a revered sage's hut... to a sewer pipe. Moving up in the world, eh?"

"We could always cut your ears down? Then we could get nice, fancy beds?"

Jak covered his ears and glared at Daxter.

"Thought so."

The instant they entered the maze-like part of Sewerhusk again, Jak immediately felt the urge to bathe and hurl. Daxter jumped to the ground from his shoulder and led the way down winding corridors, pawsteps placed as if he'd made this journey many times before. How long they'd ventured, Jak didn't know, but wherever it was, he'd seen no other people for a while, and the air turned from fetid to somewhat fresh.

They arrived at a round hollow. An opening in the ceiling's center brought blessed clean air from outside. It was wet in the middle from water that drip drip dripped down, but there were dry spots on the edges, just large enough for Jak to lay down on.

"Ah, good ol' hidey spot. She hasn't changed a bit."

"You lived here before?"

"Eh, not really lived. More like hid out in when I needed to. It'll keep the rain outta our fur. And no one ever ventures this far into Sewerhusk, so we're safe."

"Where exactly are we?"

"Technically outside the walls. Hence the better smell."

"Makes you wonder just how far these pipes go?"

"All throughout the planet."

"The planet?"

"Yup. You can get to anywhere on this rock with these. Precursors built 'em."

"Even as far south as Sandover?"

"Even farther. Under the sea. To lands on the other side."

Jak took a seat in one of the alcoves. "Precursors never knew when to stop, did they?"

"They never did anything half-assed, that's for sure. Why do ya think these Havenites hate 'em? Dark and light eco aren't the only ones locked in a dick measurin' contest."

Daxter started nudging leaves away from and dusting the floor with his tail. Jak did the same with his hands, then-

A loud bang.

They glanced at each other, then at where it'd come from. Its echoes clattered against the walls. Jak slipped his hand to his pistol, ready to pull it out.

Another bang. Pistol drawn, Jak hid close to the entrance and tucked around the corner. Daxter took cover behind a short jut of machinery on the other side of the doorway.

Footsteps. Jak's heart raced. He and Daxter exchanged looks, the ottsel's eyes glinting in the dark, then Jak held his breath. The footsteps stopped just in front of where they were hiding. Jak could hear them breathing.

"Mister?"

Jak let out a quiet sigh of confused relief. A little girl. He holstered his pistol, but remained hidden. "Hello?"

She screeched. There was the sound of a few steps taken back. A minute of uneasy silence on both sides passed.

"I-is there a ghosty in here?"

Jak caught Daxter's stare. They shrugged at each other. Daxter put his pistol away, nodded to Jak, got back to all fours, and squeaked as he peeked around the corner.

"A kitty! Wait, were you the one that said 'hello'? If so, do you know where that leaf-ear man went?"

Daxter said nothing.

"Oh, so you're not a talking kitty. Then who...?"

Daxter squeaked again as she neared where Jak was hiding, trying to paw at her leg to get her attention. She ignored him and looked around the corner. Wide, violet eyes beneath blue hair met Jak's. She gasped, then held her breath and froze.

Jak tried to smile. She screamed.

"Kitty, run! It's a leaf-ear ghosty!"

The girl scrambled back out into the pipe maze. Fear poked at Jak's heart. She looks like that girl I saw in the temple garden. She must have followed us somehow without us knowing. She won't know how to get back out, she'll just get lost.

"Kid, wait! Come back!"

Daxter bounded ahead and managed to bite at the girl's pants leg and pull her back before she could get very far. She tore it away from him, tripped, then scrambled behind a large cog sticking out from the wall when Jak caught up.

She and Jak played a game of hide and peek, Jak trying to catch her eye around the cog and not scare her, the girl retreating behind it every time she saw him. Jak took a single step forward and crouched. "What are you doing down here? You could have gotten lost."

She leaned out further than ever before. Her ears were cut and she wore near rags, and her feet and face had splotches of dirt. She stared timidly from behind tangled blue hair.

Jak smiled at her silence. She reminded him of his younger self. "I used to not talk much, either. You don't need to be scared, though. I won't hurt you."

"Are you a…?"

"Leaf-ear ghosty?"

She shrugged as if it was the only possible explanation and wasn't sure why he was questioning it.

"Nope. See, even the kitty likes me," Jak reached his hand out to Daxter, hoping the ottsel would get the hint. To his relief, Daxter came to him and let him pet him for a second, understanding the cue. "And do kitties usually like ghosts?"

"No. Are you going to eat me?"

"Eat you?"

"Mama said leaf-ears eat children. That's why she told me to stay away from people like you. But I saw you at the bad people temple and healing those other leaf-ears and apes and birdies."

Daxter gave a tail whip. 'See, I told ya,' it meant.

"You did, did you?"

"It was a really pretty green. I've never seen something like that. Is that eco?"

Another tail whip from Daxter. Jak took the hint. "Are your parents nearby? Do you need help finding them?"

"I never met my da. My mama died a year ago in a factory accident. I live on Rubin Street. Do you wanna come see my house? I built it out of boards myself. And I added a new blanket to cover the door yesterday. It's really neat, actually."

Pity tore through his gut, eviscerating him to numb shreds. Even Daxter drooped his ears. "I… I'm sorry to hear that. Are you safe where you live?"

"Yeah, sometimes. Sometimes mean people come by looking for me. But I know where to hide. But one of them hit me with a knife the other day. At first, it only hurt, but now it's a weird color. Mama always told me that was bad."

"Do you need help?"

"Well, that's why I got excited when I saw you with the pretty green stuff, healing people."

"I suppose…"

He looked to Daxter. Daxter gave a subtle head nod.

"Come here. Where'd they get you?"

"My shoulder."

She peeled back her tattered shirt from her neck as she walked up to Jak. Sure enough, there was a wound of clean-cut nature on her shoulder, from something with a sharp edge. It had a small, but distinct smell to it, and the center was black.

"Definitely infected," Jak said.

"Am I gonna die!?"

"No, but it's a good thing you found me. Can I heal it for you?"

"Well, duh… that's why I tried to find you. So that you could."

Jak smiled and chuckled. "I see. Now, hold still."

Jak didn't need to concentrate hard to call forth green eco. His helping the folk at the temple the night before had replenished his reserves tenfold now that the universe had had some time to receive his generosity and pay him karma for it, and it was the most vibrant he'd seen since after Kunino. He barely needed to touch the eco to her shoulder before the infection faded and the cut sealed up, good as new.

"There. Now, let's fix those, too."

She had many scrapes on her arms and knees, a bruise on her hand, and a cut on her nose. He healed all of them, grinned when she giggled as the green eco touched her nose, then patted her head. "All better, right?"

"Thank you, mister! I'm sorry I got scared of you."

"Well, this place is pretty spooky. Do you know how to get home?"

Her puzzled and fearful violet eyes met his, then fell to the floor. "Well, I would leave, but if I ever get hurt again, how will I find you?"

"Oh, I…" he scratched the back of his head. "I'm not sure I'll always be in the same place. But you can always come back as long as I'm here."

Daxter nibbled his arm. Jak gently pushed him away. "Here, me and kitty will guide you back out, and make marks along the way so that you can always find your way back. Deal?"

Her eyes were glittering. "Deal!"

Jak and Daxter did as Jak had promised. He'd taken out his sword and made cuts on the walls as Daxter led the way, making sure to double-mark each one, but put them at eye level for her so that they might not be so obvious for older intruders. At the end, he guided her back up through Sewerhusk's entrance, patted her head again when she hugged his leg, and gave her one of the coins Tess had given him before she skipped away, a little glimmer of sunshine eaten by the shadows of the alleys beyond.

That night, as the stars were twinkling through the hole in the Sewerhusk hollow's roof, Jak ran a hand through his wet hair, shuffled closer to the fire he'd made, pulled his blanket tighter around himself, and sighed.

"So, we made it..." Daxter muttered, wringing his tail out.

Around sunset, it had rained, and both had taken the opportunity to use the water dripping into the hollow to bathe for the first time in, as far as Jak could remember, days. Clean, warm, and feeling like he'd done something good, he was content, even as his stomach rumbled and he knew it'd be a mealless night where he'd be forced to sleep on a metal floor.

"We did, thanks to you."

"If circumstances were different, I'd apologize for bringin' you to Haven."

"It's not all that bad. It smells and it's dirty, but there's some nice people here. The temple. Wise Junction. That blonde woman at the Willow House."

"You're damn right she was nice. Ah, what a woman!"

"You barely even know her."

"I took one look at that babe and knew, just knew , she was primo quality. And she winked at me."

"She probably thought you were just a cute animal."

"Jak, I am a cute animal. I told ya, babes love me. That yellow eco sage pet me. Lady Unne pet me. All smitten with my big-eyed charm! Like I said, ya better not bring that Keira girl of yours around, else I might steal her from ya."

Jak rolled his eyes. "She's not mine."

"How often ya think about her?"

All the time, Jak answered silently, but instead muttered, "We've been best friends since we were kids. That's all we ever were."

"But ya wanted to be more, didn't ya?"

"I don't know. I never thought about her that way."

"Ya said she was cute."

"Well, yeah, she is. Doesn't mean she thought the same about me. It would have been weird if we had been together, anyways. I was a green sage's apprentice. Usually they don't have partners."

"Why not?"

"They live too long. And... other people don't."

Daxter raised a brow, then his expression melted. "Oh."

"I once asked Samos about it. Like, how did he cope with it? Did he still miss those he'd lost? Because as nice as living a long time seems, that'll be me someday, too. Well, if this dark eco doesn't kill me, first. But then I've got that to look forward to."

"Well, how long do green sages live usually?"

"The longest I've heard was two thousand years."

Daxter whistled. "You're gonna be a damn old coot. Ha, I can just picture it now: Jak, so ancient that dirt asks ya for stories about the olden days, hobblin' around and bein' more grumpy than ya are now."

"You're probably right. That's how Samos turned out."

"So what did he say? 'Bout dealin' with losin' folk, I mean?"

Jak closed his eyes. "He told me thought about them every single day, and no one remembrance hurt any less than the last."

"Sheesh! What a comforting guy!"

"That was Samos." Jak opened his eyes again as he remembered something he'd wanted to ask Daxter about. "Hey, you know that Hagai Industries factory? What do they make there?"

Daxter froze, then curled his tail over his face as he laid down in a ball. "Mostly guns. That's why our pistols say 'HI' on 'em. And they make soap, too, oddly enough."

"Do you know who created it?"

"No idea. But Mr. Blott runs it now, last I heard. His family's been keepin' that joint chuggin' for a century."

Jak furrowed his brows. Then it clicked. "That's the name the guy in the Willow House mentioned."

"Yeah, Krew Blott. He's one of the richest in the city, besides maybe the Jin family and the Baron and Erol, of course. That grunt was right: Lady Unne denyin' Mr. Blott was pretty bold. That's why I know she's primo quality."

"Well, I suppose any woman you'd be with would have to know how to take a lot of shit. You don't even have your body back yet, though."

"Heh, my real body would knock her outta the park, lemme tell ya."

"That good looking?"

"Jak, is that even a serious question? Of course I was good lookin'."

"Oh, of course. How could I even have questioned it?"

"Exactly! Ya should be ashamed of yourself for even thinkin' otherwise."

Jak chuckled and shook his head. "Please forgive me for my dumb bumpkin misunderstanding."

"You're forgiven."

They fell to slumber not long after that. The next thing Jak sensed after the numb of sleep was an animal screeching, shadows with pipes and knives in hand circling the hollow, and a boot in his gut.

"This the one, kid?"

Before Jak could realize what was going on, too focused on the burning, flaring ache in his stomach, he caught sight of a little girl with violet eyes nodding. Then, everything went black again as the familiar perfume of slumberwrought punched his nose.

Weightlessness. Shifting up and down. Then, as his vision returned, Haven glowed and gleamed outside a glass barrier above. Jak made the mistake of muttering something, though he didn't know what words he'd used.

"Shit, greeny's awake."

"Then knock him out," came a voice ahead.

Jak instinctively knew to hold his breath as slumberwrought was pushed to his nostrils. He pretended to relax his body and let his head droop again.

"This is good stuff. Gets 'em out in no time. How many more are we taking tonight, by the way?"

"A few. The next was called in by Canalside."

Take people? Jak wondered. He tried to remember what had happened. He'd fallen asleep in the Sewerhusk hollow with Daxter, then he'd heard Daxter squeal, someone had kicked him, and…

The violet-eyed girl. Realization jabbed him in the gut harder than the boot had earlier. Daxter had been right. Again. For the millionth time.

The pulse of fear pounded in his heart. And where was Daxter? His eco wound prickled. As he made the slightest of movements, shackles shifted coldly at Jak's wrists behind him.

We need to get out of here.

"We taking them all to the usual spot?"

"No, gotta bring 'em up high this time."

"All the way? What happened to 'discreet'?"

"Too many folk could-"

There was a squealing. Jak dared open his eyes a crack, knowing by heart who it was. Through the bleariness, he could tell he was inside a zoomer with black cushion seats, given the way the scenery rolled outside the window above, and how it felt like they kept careening up and down. The voice near him came from a brute of a middle-aged man of cut ears and knives on his belt, gleaming like a collection of silver teeth. On his lap was a little burlap sack, where growling snarled from.

Ahead, the vague suggestion of a pale, thin man sat in a seat in the front of the zoomer, one hand on the wheel.

"I told you to throw that rat out the window, Kang."

The man next to Jak shrugged. "I thought he might make a cool pet."

"Well, shut it up, before I decide it might make a good meal."

Kang patted the bag and gave it a sympathetic look. "Don't worry, little guy. I won't let him eat you."

The zoomer halted to a sudden stop. They lowered to the ground, the hum of the engine dying as they landed. Kang left and the driver followed, allowing Jak a moment to open his eyes fully and wriggle towards the burlap sack.

"Dax ," Jak whispered.

"Stinkin' Precursors, you're still awake?"

"What's even going on?"

"We're bein' snatched. But this doesn't seem like any normal slavin' heist. They were blabbin' a lot when you were out earlier. Somethin' about roundin' up as many people as they could for some 'dark warrior' thing. Might be a fightin' ring or somethin', the way they talked about it."

"Any ideas on getting out of here?"

"Two words: Jak smash."

"If I could call it out on demand, I would."

"So I get them to hurt me, easy."

"It's not that simple. And I'd rather you not get hurt. Or that I kill someone."

"Jak, they kidnapped us. I think that merits beatin' 'em up."

Jak sighed and looked around the zoomer's interior. There were no keys to be seen, and nothing that he could use as a weapon. He glanced down at his chest. That might be our only option. Not that I want to even try. What if I could get Daxter out of the bag, though? Could he free me? Or be a distraction?

"You still good at stealing keys?"

"Jak, I'm good at stealin' everything."

"If I get you untied from that bag, could you get the keys off the guy and unlock me?"

"I think he'd probably see me."

"Just do the cute innocent thing you did with Vend. You know, let him pet you, act sweet?"

"Jak, I thought I told ya not to talk about that nightmare ever again."

"Slavery it is, then?"

"Agghhhh... Fine. Just get over here and free me."

Jak wriggled closer and then remembered his arms. Shackled.

"Dax, when I lift you, push against the opposite side of the bag."

"Will do."

Jak strained his neck to reach forward and bit into the top edge of the bag, where the drawstring was, then pulled back. Daxter did as he was told and the lip opened. An orange head peeked out.

"Okay, now what? How much time do ya think we have before they're back, anyw-"

The zoomer door creaked open. The man looked down at Jak and Daxter, then blinked blankly a few times as he glanced between the ottsel and where Jak was still biting the burlap bag.

Jak tried an innocent grin.

"Shit! Pey, get back here!"

Before Jak could react, Daxter slipped out of the sack and launched at Kang's face. Kang screeched as the tornado of claws and teeth and orange fur lashed his face. Jak inchwormed his way out of the zoomer, fell to the cobblestones, picked himself up to his feet, and then body slammed Kang.

They fell to the ground. Kang pinned Jak down, fresh cuts with tufts of fluff and oozing red on his scowling face above, but soon he lost focus and lurched back, trying to pat down his own belly, belt, and back as an orange streak zipped around him, something shiny and jangling in hand.

"You little shit! Get back here!"

Daxter flung to Jak's shoulder, then climbed down his back and started trying different keys on the keyring he'd stolen. Jak got back up again and started to run as fast as he could, Daxter still upside down and trying keys. As far as he could tell, they were just on the border of the Slag and Canalside, judging by the pipe waterfalls ahead and the dusty, crater-pocketed area behind.

Canalside at night was a whole new place, one that would have sent Jak's heart thumping even if he hadn't been running for his life.

What had looked dull and bleak at day, was now a world of shimmering lights and reflections. Wrought glass signs like the one over the Willow House were common, their shapes filled with different kinds of eco that made them glow in the dark, and the waterfalls reflected their light in glossy panes. Folk of all kinds mingled on corners under eco lamps or outside of bars and shops, their neon-lit forms wreathed with smoke and mist.

There were gasps of surprise as Jak barreled through their throngs, and not far behind was Kang, pushing the groups apart as soon as they'd shaken off their stupor to congregate again.

"Any luck?" Jak asked, taking a turn into a quiet alley.

"There are like twenty keys on this thing! How am I suppose-"

Click! The shackles clattered to the ground behind. Kang tripped on them and tumbled to the stones. Daxter took the keyring and threw it over the side of the street canal as Jak continued to run.

"Who needs guns when you've got claws and swipin' skills?"

"Speaking of, where are our guns? And my sword?"

"Uh… yeah, they took those. And the little money we had left, and…" Daxter ruffled through Jak's pauldron pack. "Those assholes! They took my fish!"

"Great."

"Well, we got away with our lives. That's good, ri-?"

Jak collided with something and toppled backwards. As he rolled over, trying to get back to his feet, a boot slammed down on his leg. Jak collapsed again, then was lifted from the ground, ankle aflame, hands scrabbling at the fist now clutching his collar.

The man was the same driver from the zoomer. He looked up at Jak with green, giddy eyes. Daxter tried to scratch out at him, but with his free hand, he took the ottsel by the ears and threw him against the nearby wall, a loud clang breaking the silence as Daxter met the metal.

Jak grit his teeth. Suddenly, nothing mattered but the echo of Daxter hitting the metal beating at his ears. He tried to kick at the slaver and put his hands on the arm that held Jak up, attempting to bend it in opposite directions with each hand, hoping the dark eco would kick in as he did so.

His dark eco wound burned, but nothing happened.

Jak glanced at Daxter on the ground as much as he could. Come on, Daxter's hurting!

It was then that Jak realized there was a fresh puncture in the slaver's arm, the injection site showing a peek of glowing red eco.

"I promised a sage-trained green channeler, and I don't underdeliver," the man said, taking out another pair of shackles from his long coat, easily ripping Jak's hands away with supernatural strength and clasping the shackles' metal claws over Jak's wrists, their bite icy.

Daxter peeled himself from the ground and wobbled and walked towards them. He looked ready to leap up and attack, but the slaver followed Jak's worried gaze and smiled. The slaver kicked Daxter as hard as he could, launching him, Daxter whining in pain. Then he booted him once again, following to where Daxter landed, making sure to time it just as he tried to get up.

Daxter limped to his paws and backed up, avoiding the slaver's looming form in zigzag retreat, glancing at Jak in a sort of apology. Jak motioned his head for Daxter to just go. Daxter looked between Jak and the slaver one last time, then started to painfully run away. The slaver pulled out a pistol and chuckled.

Something cracked. Hot blood coursed between Jak's fingers as he took the man's arm that held him up once more, and this time, managed to split it in different directions. The slaver's face lost its drug-induced rage and amusement. Horror replaced them when he twisted back and caught Jak's eye.

The slaver let Jak go, careening backwards, his pistol clattering to the ground. Jak fell and got up without a flinch, pulling at the shackles until they creaked and broke apart with a plink of a split, then launched himself in a hazy, molten veined fury at the slaver. As had occurred on the bridge in Riverjoint and on the Mistarch, Jak was lucid, knowing precisely what he was doing in this recurring dark eco dream, and enjoying every little last second and punch of it.

At the end of the fight, the slaver's face sufficiently red, Jak took him by the neck with a single hand and slammed him into the same metal wall Daxter had hit earlier, a man sized dent cratering the panel.

Bloody fingers pawed at Jak's arm. "Red eco," he choked out. "You didn't have any on you. How...?"

The pulse of the slaver's jugular thundering beneath his palm felt so good. Jak held him there for another few moments, basking in the sensation. The slaver tried to blurt something out, probably an apology or a begging for his life, but all Jak heard was that delicious, fragile thump, thump, thump, th-

A flash and a bang. Something grazed the side of Jak's arm he held the slaver up with, then split a hole into the metal wall.

"Put 'em down!"

Kang's voice. Jak glanced at the new wound on his own arm, gave no reaction, and then turned around, the slaver still in hand.

"Look, we'll let you go! Just give Pey to me and-"

Jak killed Pey with a single squeeze, then dropped him like a toy he'd gotten bored with and started walking towards Kang. Kang backed up, lowering his pistol all the while, smoke still trailing from its trembling muzzle. Eyes wide, as if he were watching a demon approach, Kang ran.

A purple energy sparked from Jak. He tensed his muscles and felt himself start to disappear and dissipate and pull forward, feeling where he was and where he wanted to go at the same time, Kang far ahead and just out of reach simultaneously-

"Jak!"

That voice. Jak jolted to a stop, back where his body truly was, whole again. Something orange limped up to him. "See? We're safe now. I'm safe. Just take a deep breath and think about flowers and trees and… Jak, you okay? Jak?"

The fire in Jak's veins retreated to the pit in his heart, then smoldered back to numb space. He put a wet hand to his own forehead, blinked a few times, then recoiled as the fangs of mortal reality ripped into him.

Pain. Bleeding. Exhaustion. Without thinking, he stumbled on as long as he could, trying to get away from his sin still warm behind him, footprints of blood and an ottsel following him down the muggy street.

He collapsed in an unfamiliar alley corner, trash for his pillow, rain for his blanket.

"-under arrest."

Those were the first words he heard upon coming to. Jak glanced up, men in red with rifles standing over him, dawn sky at their backs. One grabbed him by his wounded arm and dragged him out of the alley.

"I didn't mean to," Jak mumbled through shuddering gasps, not certain he could withstand the pain now radiating on his bicep.

"You are hereby charged under section three, title four: vagrancy on a public city street."

Before he could understand what was going on, or even ask what the word vagrancy meant, the Krimzon Guards around him paused, looking off in the distance.

Jak realized he was in a world of plants and wooden buildings: Wise Junction. He followed their gaze as much as he could with the little neck and eye strength he had. Something radiant as a sun was nearing.

"There he is!" came a sweet voice from that direction. "Wait, officers! Please!"

The owner of the voice came up to them, bringing with the smell of lunar roses and pipe smoke.

"Oh, Jak! My poor little brother! Where have you been?" The figure leaned down and patted Jak's blood-sticky cheek. "And what happened to you?"

Jak didn't respond, eyes too assaulted by the riot of copper and white and blonde above, body in nauseating pain.

"Lady Unne?" asked one of the guards.

The other shook his head. "We are conducting an arrest here, ma'am."

"My good men." She stood up again. "Please, I beg of you, this is my brother. He went out last night after someone had stolen from one of my girls. He was just trying to be heroic! Did you get the coinpurse back, Jak?"

Jak groaned in reply. Tess heaved him up with surprising strength, reached into his shirt, and pulled her hand back out with a sudden coinpurse in hand.

"Oh, you did! Thank the Precursors! But you didn't have to get in a fight over money! Officers, could we just forget about all this? I will take him home and heal him up. My poor little Jakky, all bruised and hurt."

The guards looked at each other. The kinder one shrugged. The stern one got in Tess' face. "We're arresting him, ma'am."

What Tess did next, Jak had no idea, but it consisted of a certain look into the eye and a placing of a hand on the guard's.

"Look, how about I make it up to you for all this?"

She pulled two rolled letters with wax seals of a willow tree from her sleeve and offered them. "Here. It's a voucher for my Willow House. Use it for a free hour with any of my artisans. How does that sound? Maybe to help heal a wound? Maybe to entertain at a party? Or if money's tight, it should fetch you a price almost as pretty as my ladies."

The stern one froze. The softer, younger one looked between Tess' hand and his fellow officer excitedly.

"Heroes like you keeping our streets safe don't often have the kind of coin for an opportunity like this. Such a shame. I'm sure whoever you choose would love to meet one of our valiant protectors. It would be such a new experience for them to talk to men like you. And there's a second one here for you, too, my sweet."

The softer, younger guard immediately snatched one up at those words. All airs of determination on the stern one melted as he slowly took his own.

"Now, I will bring my silly brother home. Be sure to turn in that voucher a week before you want to use it."

Tess hoisted Jak's good arm over her shoulders and started dragging him towards the familiar building with the willow over the top down the street. Daxter limped forward as they got near, having hidden behind a bush, and he whined at Tess.

"Don't worry, little guy. Your friend is safe now."

"Thanks," was all Jak could manage to say.

As they met the perfumed courtyard of the Willow House, and as the shadows of a few heads peeked from the entrance ahead, Tess shrugged. "No worries. I do have some questions for you, though."