Ice Labyrinth
Level Up Harem — Book 4
By Machine George
The Frozen Bell has been ringing for three centuries. It’s time to answer.
Jace and his party head north into the ice. The Frozen Bell’s signal is flickering amber at the northern edge of the Architect network—and if it falls silent, everything they’ve built will collapse. Nine days remain before the fracture reaches critical mass and its sympathetic vibration damages the Sky Tower beyond repair.
A new ally joins the climb: Liara Voss, the Last Custodian, who sealed herself in ice three centuries ago to keep the Bell from being weaponized. Ivy the golem librarian learns what it means to feel. Syl the dryad crosses frozen root-ways no forest spirit should survive—because her family needs her.
New characters join the party:
- Liara Voss — Frozen consciousness merged with the Bell, ghostly presence in the ice
- Syl — Dryad who manifests physically at great cost
- Ivy (full member) — Golem learning to feel, sensitive to cold, curious about intimacy
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Chapter 1 — Northbound
The Harmonic Chart pulsed with the rhythm of a dying heartbeat, and Jace had been watching it for three days.
He stood before the projection in the base’s main room, his arms crossed, his shield leaning against the wall behind him. The chart had been their greatest asset since the Sky Tower — a live map of the Architect network that showed every Waypoint, every resonance thread, every whisper of the ancient system stirring back to life. But right now, it only showed him one thing: the Frozen Bell’s signal, flickering amber at the northern edge of the projection, pulsing faster than it had when they’d first returned from the Tower.
Fourteen days had been the Envoy’s estimate. The window before the Bell’s fracture reached critical mass and its sympathetic vibration damaged the Sky Tower beyond repair. That had been five days ago. Nine days left now, and the intervals between pulses were still shrinking.
“You’ve been standing there for an hour.”
Jace didn’t turn. He knew Mira’s voice — the particular blend of concern and deflection she used when she was worried and trying not to show it. “I’m reading.”
“You’re brooding. There’s a difference.”
“Brooding implies I’m not thinking. I’m thinking.”
“About?”
He gestured at the chart. “About whether nine days is enough. About what happens if it’s not. About whether the Envoy gave us that window because it’s accurate, or because they wanted us to move before we had time to be afraid.”
Mira moved to stand beside him, her tail curling in that slow, deliberate way that meant she was running calculations of her own. “The Envoy’s cryptic, but they haven’t lied to us yet.”
“Not lying and being accurate aren’t the same thing.”
“True.” She bumped her shoulder against his arm. “But standing here staring at it isn’t going to make the pulse slow down.”
He knew she was right. He knew she was right the same way he knew the sun would rise and the cold would bite and the Bell would keep ringing until someone answered it. But knowing and acting were different thresholds, and he was still crossing the space between them.
“Jace.”
He turned. Elara stood in the doorway to the shrine alcove they’d built into the base, her hands clasped in front of her, her eyes carrying that quiet warmth that had been steadying him since Book 1. “The sleds are loaded. The dogs are ready. Nadiya’s finished the route maps. Ivy’s packed her journals. We’re waiting on you.”
The weight of it settled onto his shoulders — not accusation, but expectation. They were ready. They were always ready. The question was whether he was ready to lead them into another Waypoint, another trial, another chance to fail the people who trusted him.
He glanced at the shrine alcove Elara had built in the corner of the base — a small shelf with a candle, a bowl of water, and a woven cloth bearing the Warm Hand’s symbol. She’d been spending time there every morning since the Envoy’s visit, her prayers growing longer as the departure date approached.
“What does she ask for?” he’d asked once.
“She asks that I be worthy of what I’m being asked to carry.”
“And does it work?”
“It keeps me centered. That counts.”
Jace looked back at the chart. The Frozen Bell’s glyph pulsed amber: once, twice, three times.
I’m coming, he thought. Just give me a moment to breathe.
Aloud, he said: “How’s the cold-weather gear holding?”
Elara’s expression softened, recognizing the deflection but allowing it. “Tamsin outdid herself. The linings are self-warming — she used some kind of weave that channels body heat back into the core. Nadiya’s already tested it in the yard. She says it’s warmer than her desert gear.”
“High praise.”
“She also said she’d rather be in the desert.”
“She always says that.”
“True.”
Nadiya’s voice drifted in from the training yard — a low, melodic whistle that cut through the morning quiet. She was testing the sled lines, her ears tracking every note of the Bell’s distant song. Jace had noticed that she’d been spending more time with the Harmonic Chart than anyone else, reading the northern Waypoint’s pulse with a focus that bordered on obsession.
“She’s hearing it,” Elara said softly, coming to stand beside him. “Through the ice. Through the ground. Through the air. The Bell’s song is everywhere up north, and she’s already tracking it.”
“Is that going to be a problem?”
“I think it’s going to be an asset. Nadiya’s ears are the most sensitive instrument we have.”
“So much rides on sound.”
Jace finally stepped away from the chart, crossing to the table where the rest of his gear was laid out in precise rows. Shield straps, double-checked. Spire Conductor, fully charged, its internal crystal glowing with stored resonance. Tamsin’s prototype — the resonance capacitor, installed into the Spire Conductor’s housing, a palm-sized disc of interlocking copper rings that hummed with stored energy. He touched it, feeling the faint vibration against his fingertips.
Beside the capacitor lay the reed-rings — five bands of woven green fiber, each one keyed to Syl’s life-signature. She had sent them through the root-channels a week ago, along with a message that had arrived folded in leaves: “The northern channels are cold but alive. I’ll be listening. Wear these when you cross the Frostfang.”
Jace picked up his ring, sliding it onto his finger. It pulsed once, warm, and settled against his skin like a second heartbeat. He could feel Syl’s presence at the edge of his awareness — distant, but present. Listening.
“Tamsin said it’s still in prototype stage,” Mira said, joining him at the table. “One use per charge. Thirty seconds of complete resonance silence. She wasn’t sure if it would hold in extreme cold.”
“Then we test it in the field.”
“That’s what I said.” Mira’s grin was sharp. “She called me reckless.”
“What did you say?”
“I said ‘thank you.'”
Jace shook his head, but the corner of his mouth lifted. “You’re going to get us killed with that attitude one day.”
“One day, maybe. But not today. Today we’re going north to answer a bell that’s been ringing for three hundred years.” She picked up her pack, slung it over her shoulder. “That’s pretty good for a rogue who started this series picking pockets in Rogue’s Alley.”
He caught her arm before she could leave. “Mira.”
She stopped, looking back.
“Thank you,” he said. “For being here. For being ready. For — ” He paused, searching for words that didn’t sound inadequate. “For making this feel possible.”
Her ears went pink. She cleared her throat. “Yeah, well. Don’t get used to it. I’m only here for the cold-weather fashion.”
She disappeared out the door before he could see her blush deepen.
[Due to length, the full first chapter continues on the next page… but you can read the complete book on Amazon now!]
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Continue the Adventure
Book 1: Starter Dungeon
Book 2: Desert Raid
Book 3: Sky Tower
Book 4: Ice Labyrinth — Available now on Amazon (Kindle Unlimited)
