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“We’re with the Silver Legions,” Principia called to the two golems. “If you can understand me—”

She received an answer in the form of two staff blasts that rocked herself and Ephanie back a half-step, making their formation quaver. An acrid smell rose over the lightning-induced tang of ozone in the air, the sign of a shield charm nearing the point of burnout. Those things hit much harder than the wandshots fired by the protestors.

“Retreat!” she barked, and the squad began backing away as quickly as they could, considering they were climbing damp stairs backwards. The golems remained where they were, not attempting to follow, but kept their staves trained on the Legionnaires. They did not fire again, however.

“That’s a defensive posture,” said Ephanie. “They’re blocking access to that landing, not trying to kill us.”

“Sarge,” Casey warned, glancing over her shoulder, “we are back in range of that cannon. It’s still aiming at us!”

“Veth’na alaue,” Principia muttered, turning to look. At their current height on the staircase, their heads and shoulders were visible above the top, just enough to put them in view of the artillery emplacement. It was indeed still trained on their position. For a moment she held onto the hope that it had been left there and abandoned, but even as she peered up at the mag cannon, its barrel began to glow. This time, it appeared to be building up a significant charge rather than firing right away. “Shit, there’s no cover.”

“Cannons would need to have this platform in their range of fire to clear away attackers,” Ephanie said crisply. “Sarge, I think we have a better chance taking on the golems.”

“No,” said Principia. “Break ranks and get to the far corner over there, just on the other side of the opposite gate. Go.”

She led the way, the others following; they bounded up the last few steps and dashed diagonally across the platform, huddling into the very far corner between the city wall and the stone balustrade. The active mag cannon swiveled to track them, but it couldn’t turn as fast as they could run, and ultimately didn’t manage to turn all the way. Its rotation stopped short of giving it full coverage of the platform.

“Okay, that’s something,” said Merry, who was sandwiched between Farah and the wall. “We’re still in range of the artillery on this side, though.”

“Nobody attacked us from east gatehouse,” said Principia. “Avelea, are they connected?”

“Not directly,” Ephanie replied, “but they could cross the battlements above to reach it.”

“Still no sign of movement from over here,” Principia murmured, her eyes sweeping the scene. “Keep your shields up and attention on the arrow loops; if anybody fires from there, return fire. Sing out immediately if one of these cannons starts to move. Time’s on our side; the Army has to be back in place sooner than later.”

“But we don’t know what kind of timetable that is,” Farah said tremulously.

“Right, which is why we’re not gonna sit here and wait for rescue,” Principia replied. “Listen up: once we start moving we’ll be back in range of the cannon, so we’ll need to work fast. When I give the word, fall into wedge formation facing that mag cannon and rake it. Avelea, how badly can we damage it?”

“With five staff-equivalent weapons, easily enough to take it out of commission, assuming five direct hits—and assuming whoever’s up there doesn’t know to activate its shields. Sarge, you remember our accuracy when we drilled with these things. And that cannon is still charging; the second we’re in its line of sight it’ll fire.”

Prin nodded, scowling at the mag cannon. It was partly hidden from view by the slight protrusion of the gatehouse, but they could see most of it from their position. “Scratch that, then. Avelea, Lang, you’re the best shots. Take position against the wall here and start peppering it. See if you can put it out of action. As soon as that thing is down, we form up and concentrate fire on this door. I want us off this ledge and back inside the walls ASAP.”

“Pretty sure attacking the city defenses is technically treason,” Merry muttered, kneeling with her shoulder against the wall while Ephanie took aim above her head. They fired simultaneously, then kept up a steady barrage, pausing only long enough between shots to keep their weapons from overheating.

Lightning scored black rents in the stonework near the mag cannon, but most of their shots hit it directly. The blue flash of heavy-duty shielding charms signaled that this would not be that easy, but no charm had an infinite charge, heavy or not.

Whoever was at the cannon’s controls clearly agreed; after a few seconds of taking fire, it retaliated. This time, it was fully charged.

The whole squad mashed themselves flat against the wall, raising shields in front of themselves, and even so, it was barely enough. The blast of white light that roared past them barely a yard from their faces was accompanied by a corona of ferocious static electricity; their shield charms flared almost opaque, whining in protest, and Casey’s shattered in a cascade of sparks. A cart-sized chunk of the platform adjacent to them was smashed to rubble.

“Elwick!” Principia shouted a second later, blinking the glare from her eyes. “Report!”

“Singed, not hurt, ma’am,” Casey said, still huddled behind her shield. “Sarge, my charm’s broken! If that fires again—”

“It’s not gonna fire again,” Principia said grimly. “Hold your position. If this doesn’t work, Avelea’s in command.”

She darted out into the open, crossing the platform in seconds and dropping her shield and lance on the way. The elf launched herself into a running jump, landing at the edge of the far balustrade and kicking off it; she spun in midair to kick off the very narrow protrusion of stonework that sheltered the gate, soaring higher in the direction of open space, but caught herself on the edge of an arrow loop. Dangling from it by both hands, she swung her body to the left, and then back to the right, actually running along the wall at a steep angle till she hit the narrow rim of stone again and kicked off, getting a grip on the next loop up.

A figure leaned out of a nearby arrow loop, aiming a wand at her; he was instantly struck by shots from Ephanie and Merry, and fell forward without a scream to lie smoking on the platform below.

“Now that’s interesting,” Merry muttered. “I thought Legion training for elves meant they weren’t that agile anymore…”

Principia was in the middle of another improbable leap when a figure peeked out from behind the battlements shielding the mag cannon, taking aim at her with a wand. Ephanie and Merry immediately fired on him, but the cannon’s defenses absorbed the bolts, leaving him with a clear shot at the sergeant.

A shadow fell across the platform.

The man at the cannon turned to look, then let out a squeal and dived back into cover; Principia paused, dangling from the bottom of an arrow loop and twisting her neck to see what was happening.

Though he landed with as much gentleness as possible, the beat of his massive wings was nearly enough to jar her loose from the wall. Bracing his hind legs on the platform, Ampophrenon the Gold grasped the upper battlements of the gatehouse with his right hand and laid the other on the mag cannon that had been harassing Squad One. With obvious care, he very gingerly turned it to face out to sea.

The cannon’s mounting rent asunder in a shower of sparks, leaving the dragon holding the broken weapon.

“Ah,” he rumbled, staring at the cannon in his hand with an abashed expression that was astonishing on his reptilian face. “Well, drat.”

Setting the cannon down on its ledge, he placed his hand under Principia’s dangling feet. “If I may, Sergeant?”

She gave him a long, considering look before letting go, dropping lightly into his palm. Ampophrenon lowered her carefully to the ground outside the gates.

A yelp cut through the air, and a figure emerged from the battlements above, drifting out into space. Dragonsbane, in her distinctive mask and wing cloak, squirmed as she was levitated above the gates, flailing about wildly with her saber. Behind her, another figure in lavish blue robes appeared, standing lightly on the battlements themselves.

“This isn’t over!” the woman ranted, shaking the weapon at him. “You can kill me, you can kill all of us, but one day—”

“I’m sorry to cut off what’s shaping up to be a really good monologue,” Zanzayed called out, “but you might want to save that one for another occasion, Marshal. The rest of your cohorts are all under a sleeping charm; nobody can hear you but us.”

Dragonsbane halted her gyrations, then very deliberately twisted herself to peer pointedly downward at Principia and the rest of her squad.

“Oh, don’t mind us,” said Merry. “This just got very interesting.”

“I believe the sun has set on this particular bit of subterfuge,” Ampophrenon rumbled, rearing up and spreading his wings. Moments later, he had shrunk down to his humanoid form and stepped off the balustrade onto the platform. “I said from the beginning that we should have been up front with Locke instead of trying to manipulate her, Zanzayed. All this chaos is what results from attempting to play such games with notoriously clever people.”

“You just hate fun, that’s all,” Zanzayed replied gaily, as he and Dragonsbane slowly drifted to the ground.

Ampophrenon grimaced at him, then turned to Dragonsbane and bowed. “I apologize for damaging the cannon, Marshal. Needless to say, I will be financially responsible for that and all damage to Imperial property incurred here.”

“That’s generous of you, m’lord,” she said carefully, “but there is really no way to arrange that without revealing your complicity in this. I’m sure the Imperial treasury can absorb it.”

“Shut up,” Principia said, bending to pick up her lance. “I don’t know what this is, and right now I am past giving a shit. You’re all under arrest.”

Ampophrenon blinked his luminous eyes at her. “Ah… Forgive me, Sergeant Locke, but I don’t think you understand—”

“Here’s what I understand,” she short back, leveling the lance at Dragonsbane and fingering the trigger charm that parted its blades to reveal the firing crystal. “I want all of you on your knees, weapons on the ground and hands on your heads before I have time to repeat my instructions.”

Before any of them could respond to that—which was perhaps fortunate, given Zanzayed’s gleeful expression—the side gate through which they had originally come opened, and a well-dressed man in his middle years stepped out. He glanced once at the scene—the two dragons, the Legionnaires, the improbably-dressed woman in the mask—and cleared his throat.

“Thank you for your commitment to civil order, Sergeant, but that won’t be necessary. My name is Quentin Vex; I head Imperial Intelligence. Perhaps it’s time we had a talk.”

 

Wide slashes were the opposite of proper rapier technique, but Ruda had quickly discovered that whatever magic animated the skeletons ran very thin in each individual specimen; it didn’t agree at all with mithril. The merest touch of her sword sufficed to reduce them to inanimate bone. Thus, she swept the blade around herself in wide, scything arcs, carving a path through the horde of undead and so far avoiding injury at their skeletal hands.

Which was not to say this was a winning strategy; the sheer numbers of skeletons were turning the tide gradually against her and her classmates. It would have been a significant challenge to keep up with them even if they crumbled to dust on each hit, but she was accumulating drifts of fallen bones all around herself, forcing her to constantly retreat in order to retain her footing. And still they came on, no matter how many she felled.

Another of those peculiar golden blasts hit her in the side; there was some pressure to it, but despite what it had done to Shaeine (which had caused her to formulate a theory), it had had no other effect on Ruda, and she had decided not to worry about it.

“Would you quit doing that?” Juniper exclaimed off to her right upon being shot with another of them. The dryad turned and stalked toward the cultist who had fired on her, evidently having had enough. She had been bulling through the undead by sheer brute force; the ones she smashed had a tendency to keep moving, just in smaller pieces.

On Ruda’s other side, Vadrieny screamed in fury at a knot of onrushing skeletons, which fazed them not in the least. In the next second she was being swarmed by them—not taking any discernible damage, but being crawled over by human-sized enemies was enough to hamper even her strength.

“For fuck’s sake, Vadge, they’re not afraid of you!” Ruda exclaimed, cutting down another swath of undead. “Teal, tell your demon to just kill the bastards!”

The cultist shrieked in panic as Juniper got her hands on him. Wrenching the augmented staff out of his grasp, she hurled it to the side, then picked the man up and tossed him into the air. The dryad caught him by the ankle, and proceeded to swing him bodily around, using him as a grisly flail against the summoned undead.

Vadrieny hurled off the last of the skeletons swarming her and pumped her wings once to leap across the sanctuary to Ruda’s side, where she swiped half the undead attacking the pirate into shards. Standing back-to-back halved the area each had to control and made their task suddenly a great deal easier.

“Don’t ever call me that again,” the archdemon ordered.

“Yeah,” Ruda agreed. “Didn’t really think that one through before I opened my mouth.”

One of the remaining cultists was clipped by a skeleton thrown by Juniper in the act of firing his weapon at Vadrieny; the shot went wild, smashing one of the cathedral’s stained glass windows. Apparently they had that much force, at least.

A silver streak zipped in through the open door and discharged a blast of wind at him, followed by a splatter of sleet.

“THIS BUILDING IS A HISTORICAL TREASURE, YOU DEGENERATE POLTROON!” Fross roared, lashing out on all sides with ice—and notably avoiding the use of any of her more destructive spells. Restrained or not, it worked. Even undead had trouble moving with their feet frozen to the floor, and those that got loose were deprived of traction.

“Finally, some fucking progress,” Ruda growled as she and Vadrieny began edging sideways toward the dais where the remaining two cultists stood, now firing persistently at them. In that concentration, the mild blows of the golden shots were enough to impede their advance, though not by much.

Then, the skeletons began to die.

It started in the front corner of the room, with those which had gotten past the students and neared the front doors. They simply collapsed en masse, and a wave of destruction flashed through their ranks. Undead fell to pieces in a long trail as if something invisible were cleaving through them.

Within seconds the phenomenon had ripped across the entire cathedral, then those still pouring out of the doors behind the dais fell as whatever it was passed within to finish the job.

The sudden quiet was astonishing. Juniper halted amid a heap of fallen skeletons, blinking, then looked down at the man in her hand. Blood splattered her, the bones and everything in her vicinity; he was limp and seemed to bend in far too many places.

“Uh oh,” the dryad said sheepishly. “I broke mine, guys.”

The doors, which Vadrieny had shut after putting Shaeine outside, swung open, and all three paladins stalked into the sanctuary, shoulder to shoulder.

“Ah,” said Ruda. “Valkyries. That explains it. Coulda used some of those before. Welcome back, guys!”

She and Vadrieny were slightly off to the side, leaving a clear path between the doors and the dais, along which the cultists and paladins now locked eyes.

“Do your worst!” the man in the center screeched, taking aim with his staff. “A million shall fall, a million shall rise, and all comes to naught! Chaos cannot die!”

Gabriel stepped in front of Trissiny, drawing Ariel and glaring. He pulled back his arm and hurled the sword forward. It was a somewhat awkward throw, exhibiting all of his usual athleticism, but the blade flared blue in midair and zipped across the entire length of the sanctuary, spinning end over end.

The cultist staggered back as Ariel slammed into his chest, impaling him cleanly through the ribs.

Gabriel held out his left hand and made a grasping motion; a phantasmal glove of arcane blue flickered momentarily around Ariel’s hilt, and suddenly the sword wrenched slightly to the side, lodging herself firmly in the man’s ribs and eliciting a gasp of agony from him. Then Ariel jerked backward, sailing across the room to her master and dragging the impaled cultist along.

They came to a clean halt less than a yard from Gabriel, who calmly grasped Ariel’s hilt with his left hand and stepped forward, bringing his face to within inches of the man’s filthy, matted beard. With his other, he grabbed the augmented staff, which the cultist still clutched.

The Hand of Vidius sneered and spoke in a growl that resonated throughout the church.

“Nothing. Doesn’t. Die.”

Gabriel ripped Ariel out sideways and yanked the staff away simultaneously, brandishing both weapons out to the sides. Suddenly unsupported, the cultist staggered, then sank to his knees, whispering something under his breath, before finally falling to the ground. After a few weak twitches, he lay still.

In the silence that followed, they could actually hear the buzzing of Fross’s wings.

“Badass is a weird look on you, Arquin,” Ruda said finally. “Quick, say something dumb before I lose all faith in reality.”

Seemingly galvanized by her voice, the last robed cultist took aim at Gabriel. In the next moment, Vadrieny landed next to him, casually ripping the staff out of his hands and tossing it away, then grabbed him about the neck with one clawed hand and hauled him back to the students.

“You will tell us the source of the chaos,” the archdemon said matter-of-factly, roughly pulling back the cultist’s hood.

This one, thus revealed, was actually a woman. She was as filthy as the others, her face smeared with a grime of blended sweat, dust and caked skin oil, her hair matted and filled with the grunge of the catacombs. Eyes wide and rolling, she stared blankly at a point above Trissiny’s head as the paladin stepped up in front of her.

“The source, there is no source, everything is the source. You don’t see—you should see. You will see, but too late. It shines, but it’s darkness. It’s all. Everything that’s not is is illusion, because it’s illusion. It is and it’s not, you understand?”

“Just like the ones at the prison,” Toby murmured.

“Chaos is very unhealthy to be around,” Trissiny said grimly. “It was a good thought, Vadrieny, but I’m afraid trying to get information out of her is pointless. She’s not even resisting; she just can’t think in terms that would be useful.”

“Unless it’s an act,” Ruda said skeptically.

“Possible, but this is consistent with the observed behavior of chaos victims,” Ariel commented as Gabriel wiped her blade clean with a handkerchief.

“I dunno, they managed to plan and execute all this,” Gabriel said.

“Chaos cultists are known to exhibit a certain animal cunning,” said Trissiny. “It’s the higher functions of intelligence that suffer from chaos exposure; they still have instinct. That’s arguably all they have. Also, let’s keep in mind that the Black Wreath is present and active and has betrayed us once today. I don’t believe for a moment that they are as innocent in all this as Vanessa claimed.”

“They did what?” Vadrieny demanded, turning on her.

“The summoners were a trap,” said Gabriel. “The Wreath was already there, with weapons like these. They claimed to have taken them from the chaos cult, but they used ’em on us and tried to hold us prisoner.” He held up the staff in his hand, studying it with a distasteful grimace.

“What the fuck do those even do?” Ruda demanded.

“These are what the Empire was making,” said Trissiny. “They block divine magic. A cleric shot by one is temporarily unable to cast. Or a paladin, as we discovered.”

“That was the theory I developed,” said Shaeine, striding toward them from the door. “You did say temporarily?”

“Yeah, actually,” said Toby, stepping toward her, “and it turns out Omnu is inclined to override the effect. Shaeine, I’m not certain if this’ll work for you—you’re not a Pantheon cleric. But I don’t see any way it could hurt…”

“Please,” Shaeine said with barely restrained intensity, “try.”

Toby reached out, his aura flaring gold, and laid a hand on her shoulder. Vadrieny stepped up to Shaeine’s other side, squinting against the glow but not backing away.

After a moment, Toby let his light subside. “There. I… That’s it, Shaeine. Any more and we might both burn.”

Shaeine closed her eyes, and a halo of pure silver rose about her. She let out a deep sigh, the obvious relief on her features jarring considering her usual composure. Vadrieny wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders.

“Thank you,” the drow said feelingly to Toby, who grinned back.

“That’s one fear addressed, then,” said Ruda, poking gingerly at the still-babbling cultist with the tip of her sword. When Vadrieny had released her, the woman had just slumped to her knees, making no move to either flee or attack. It was starting to look more and more as if her mind was simply gone. “Now what the hell are we supposed to do with this?”

“She’s no use to us,” Toby said firmly as the cultist continued muttering under her breath. “She’ll have to go into prison with the others. Despite everything, she’s as much a victim in this as anyone.”

Juniper wrinkled her nose. “Are you serious?”

“Yes,” Trissiny said firmly. “She’s not even mentally competent to stand trial. No one sets out to do things like this, Juniper; chaos damages the mind if you get too close to it. There are established legal precedents, here. She is to be considered insane and treated accordingly.”

“That leaves us back at square one, then,” said Gabriel. “With a city-wide disaster on top of everything else.”

“Not quite,” Ruda replied. “Think, guys. Undead coming up everywhere, sure. But this is the only place we’ve seen multiple cultists. They all came pouring out of the catacomb access right under this cathedral.”

“You think the source must be nearby,” said Fross.

“It’s as good a theory as any,” Toby agreed, nodding.

“And we’d better move our asses before the trail gets any colder,” Ruda added. “The chaos-whatsit may be close. We’ve got valkyries, three paladins, and my friend, here.” She held up the rapier. “And one of our paladins knows a thing or two about magic.”

“It’s possible he knows as many as three things,” said Ariel.

“I agree,” Trissiny said, drawing her sword. “Fross, Juniper, Shaeine and Vadrieny, please try to help the Army and the citizens outside. Those of us less vulnerable to chaos had better head below. If there’s a chance we can finish this, we have to take it.”

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“How many fucking skeletons have they got?” Ruda demanded, taking aim with her borrowed staff. She didn’t fire, however, nor did Timms, the Colonel, or anyone else nearby. They were mostly holding staves for personal comfort; the trickle of undead out of the trapdoor was nothing like the previous flood, and so far only two of the search teams had made it out. They rest would be coming from that opening, and thus pouring on an indiscriminate storm of lightning was not an option. Six soldiers knelt behind improvised cover in a semicircle around the opening, blasting undead as they emerged. Carefully.

“The catacomb system is enormous, and has been used as a burial site since long before the Imperial era,” Timms said, her usual calm somewhat diminished by tension. “There are two thousand years’ worth of bodies down there, at least. The answer to your question, Princess, is ‘as many as they could possibly need.’ The good news is that they seem to have used up all the fresher dead during their various uprisings over the last few months. These are all…just bones. Pretty rickety, from what we’ve seen so far. Really only dangerous in aggregation.”

“That’s excellent news!” Fross chimed, swooping back and forth above them. “This doesn’t bear the signs of an actual plague of undeath, just a mass raising. Like mundane plagues, that needs a biological medium to survive and spread. It’s the fresher, wetter zombies that tend to turn people. Skeletons aren’t contagious.”

“Thank the gods for small blessings,” Adjavegh grunted. “No reports so far of people turning, even those who’ve been attacked.”

“Team six is nearing the exit,” the battlemage at the runic array reported from behind him. “They’re meeting heavy resistance.”

The Colonel glanced rapidly around. “Timms, how wide are those tunnels?”

“I recommend against sending anyone else down unless they request it, sir,” she said crisply. “They’re very cramped. Our men and the Huntsmen know what they’re doing. As we were just mentioning, these undead don’t stand up to staff fire.”

“Zeppelin coming in, sir!” called a soldier from the edge of the courtyard. “From the southwest.”

“Hmp,” Adjavegh grunted. “Razsha sent back to Tiraas for scryers… Well, they’re going to be under-utilized here. I need warm bodies holding weapons, not spooks.”

“Sir,” Timms said, frowning, “Major Razsha never sent her request. By the time she’d drafted a report of her needs, the students brought us word of the catacomb situation. There are no Army shipments or personnel transfers scheduled.”

“Well, whoever they are, I intend to put them to work the second they land,” he said shortly. “Soldiers are soldiers, and we need ’em.”

Another soldier dashed up and saluted. “Citizens still trickling in, sir,” he said. “We’re settling them into the compartments farthest from the catacomb access, as ordered. A good half have gone across to the cathedral to hole up with the priest—”

“What?” Timms barked before the Colonel could respond. “No! Who told you to do that?!”

The soldier glanced wide-eyed from her to Adjavegh and back. “I—that—sir, we weren’t given authorization to forcibly move civilians! They can hear the staff fire; a lot of them don’t want to be anywhere near—”

“Colonel!” Timms said, turning to him. “The old cathedral’s sub-levels open directly onto the catacombs! They’ve been closed off since the Church began moving its people out, but there are hundreds of bodies down in those vaults. If this was a mass raising throughout the city…”

“Ohhh, crap,” Juniper whispered.

Ruda drew her sword. “We’ll—”

“Go,” Colonel Adjavegh snapped. “Get those people out of there and back here, and bring whatever priests are still on duty. You have my permission to use whatever force is reasonable.”

She whirled and was dashing out into the courtyard the second he finished. Shaeine and Juniper came hard on her heels, Fross zipping ahead of them; Teal skidded out into the courtyard, shifted, and then Vadrieny was soaring across the square toward the old cathedral. They ducked around several frightened civilians being herded into disused loading bays and a much smaller number of Imperial soldiers supervising them, none of whom attempted to impede them.

The cathedral of Veilgrad was dwarfed by its counterpart in Tiraas, but was far older, and still an impressive building. Tall, with a sloping, gabled roof and an ankh-topped spire ascending from its highest point, it was a landmark visible even above the walls of the city. Now, despite the crisis at hand, the square outside it was eerily empty. Bells still rang out and smoke rose from several directions, but no one seemed to be nearby.

Ahead of them, Vadrieny landed atop the narrow ledge situated over the front doors of the church, waiting for them. Fross joined her a second later; the land-bound students were the last to arrive, but Ruda carried on through the doors without pausing.

“Who’s in charge here?” she bellowed, striding into the sanctuary. People were huddled in the pews and against the walls, some clutching meager belongings; several children were crying, but softly. Aside from that, the refugees were mostly quiet, at least until the students arrived. Juniper and Shaeine were undisguised, and their sudden appearance brought gasps and muted outcries from nearby.

Near the dais at the far end of the sanctuary, a balding, middle-aged man with the beginnings of paunch stretching his black Universal Church robe, rose from where he had been kneeling beside a weeping woman and came toward them.

“I’m Father Rusveldt,” he said, frowning at the trio, then blinking at Fross, who darted in to hover above them. Vadrieny, wisely, had remained outside. “If you need shelter, the church is open—”

“The church is now closed,” Ruda interrupted. “We need to get these people out of here and across the square to the old guild hall. The Army is taking people in and providing protection.”

“Young woman,” the priest began.

“Listen, father, I prefer to treat clergy with respect but none of us have time for this shit right now,” Ruda said. “What’s happening in this city is a mass raising of undead. Wherever people are buried, bodies are rising and attacking. Unless somebody had the foresight to remove all the bodies buried under this church, everybody needs to get out now.”

“Every body in the—” Rusveldt broke off and swallowed heavily. Continuing, he had to raise his voice over the cries of alarm that began to sound from those nearby. “It’s… The vaults are sealed, and have been for weeks.”

“This seal,” said Shaeine. “Is it divine? Does it have a magical component which will turn back undead?”

“I—by sealed, I meant closed off,” the priest hemmed. “The doors are bolted; they’re quite sturdy, I assure you.”

“That’s it, we’re leaving,” Ruda announced, raising her voice. “Everybody out! Across the square to the trading hall. The Army will—”

“There’s access to the catacombs under the old hall, too!” a nearby man shouted belligerently. “That’s no better!”

“It’s a damn sight better,” Ruda shot back, still projecting well enough to be heard throughout the sanctuary. “Yes, there are undead coming through the hold, but there are also soldiers. Most of the Army that’s in Veilgrad is there, keeping that contained. All you’ve got between you and a mob of ravening skeletons here is apparently a fucking lock. Why is this even a dilemma?”

The man blinked at her, glanced at the wide-eyed woman beside him, then gulped. “Um. We’ll follow you.”

Screams rang out at the sudden appearance of Vadrieny in the doorway. She withdrew immediately, leaving only Teal, but people nevertheless scrambled back away from her. The bard ignored this, making a beeline for Ruda.

“We’ve got a situation outside,” she said in a low voice. “I don’t think you can bring people across the square right now. You’d better come have a look.”

“Oh, what the fuck now,” Ruda groaned. “You! Father Priestman! Where’s the access to the vaults in this building?”

“I—the doors just behind the dais, there,” he said, blinking. “You’re surely not planning to go down there?”

“Fuck no I’m not. Shaeine, stay here and keep an eye on those doors; if anything comes out of ’em, shield them off.”

“Done,” the drow said, gliding past her toward the dais.

“Let’s go have a look-see at the fresh bullshit,” Ruda growled, following Teal back to the front doors of the church.

The square was as deserted as before, with the exception of one figure creeping slowly out of one of the streets feeding into it. A gray-furred, seven foot tall figure wearing the shredded remains of what had been a cheap suit stretched across its barrel chest. The werewolf hunched, claws dangling, and stepped carefully forward toward the fountain in the center, sniffing the air.

“Well, of course,” Ruda said fatalistically. “Why the fuck not?”

“Uh oh,” said Fross. “The soldiers have seen him.”

“Oh, hell,” the pirate spat, and darted out into the open, clutching her rapier. She was across the square in seconds, Juniper and Teal right behind her. “Stop, hold your fire! That’s a person, it’s not his fault!”

“Kid, we know what a werewolf is,” the nearest soldier retorted, his eyes on the creature in question. “And we don’t have restraint gear or casters on hand. If it goes for somebody—aw, hell.”

The werwolf drew back its lips, snarling at Ruda, who was now out in the open and within its line of sight. It crouched, ears flattening back and preparing to spring.

“It’s okay, I gotcha,” Juniper said grimly, striding forward. “I’ll try not to let him—”

Before she could finish the sentence, the monster sprang. Its leap was an incredible thing to behold; it shot forward easily twenty yards, and would have made the jump to them from the opposite side of the square had another form not slammed into it in midair.

Both went down in a whirling tumble of fur and skin, landing against the base of the fountain, where the new attacker sprang backward.

The werewolf bounded nimbly to its feet, opening its mouth to unleash a chilling howl.

Scorn bared her fangs and roared right back at it.

The monster rushed her; she met it head-on, and they tumbled to the side in a furious melee of blows. The demon finally got a grip on the wolf’s upper arm and whirled in a circle, hurling it off balance and finally throwing it bodily away; the werewolf slammed into the fountain, collapsing half of it and tumbling into the water.

“Scorn!” Ruda shouted. “Be careful, that’s a person!”

“Yes, yes,” the demon said impatiently. “Not kill, hello!”

She lunged forward, landing upon the werewolf even as it surged out of the water. A moment later they were rolling across the square toward the far avenue, roaring and howling and leaving trails of shed fur and blood in their wake.

“I hate this fucking city,” one of the soldiers announced.

“What is she even doing here?” Juniper asked.

“Dunno,” Ruda grunted. “I’m worrying about shit in the order of how hard it’s trying to kill me. Damn, though. She’s pickin’ up the language pretty quick. Hm… Mithril neutralizes magic. I wonder if I could break the curse with my sword?”

“Silver also breaks the werewolf curse,” Fross said pointedly, “and you know how that ends up. It’d be a shame to kill that poor fellow after you’ve just told two other people not to.”

“You can’t just go stabbing people, Ruda,” Juniper added. “It makes them die.”

“Right. Fross, can you help out here?”

“I think that would just make Scorn angry. I think I can keep ’em away from any people, though!”

“Okay.” Ruda turned and stalked back toward the church. “Now I get to herd a gaggle of terrified bumpkins across a square, carefully avoiding the werewolf-demon brawl going down on the other end of it.” She glanced over at the brawl in question as the wolf picked Scorn up bodily and used her to smash a parked haycart. The demon bounded right back out, brandishing an axle with one wheel still attached. “I wonder if Scorn would agree to trade jobs…”

 

Painfully twisting her torso, Trissiny managed to get one hand onto her belt. She paused, catching her breath—this had been the result of several minutes of effort—and considering her options. She had access to three belt pouches on that side, if she could use her fingertips to twist the belt around. In those pouches… Her belt knife was on the other side. She did have the folding multi-tool knife Shaeine had given her in this one. None of those tools would break a chain, though.

On the subject of gifts, Kuriwa’s ocarina was also on this side, in the same pouch as the small book Raichlin had given her. This would be an excellent time to call for the shaman’s help… But even if she could extract the ocarina, she could never play it with her arms pinned to her sides this way.

Also, she didn’t know how to play it, anyway.

The chains tightened again as they were tugged from the other side of the tree.

“Arjen, stop it,” she ordered. “You’ll just hurt yourself.”

He snorted unhappily, clomping back around to her and gently nuzzling her forehead.

Trissiny leaned into his soft nose, feeling the hot breath on her face, and sighed. “I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t have sent you away… Maybe if you’d been here to help me fight I wouldn’t be in this mess.”

He snorted again, which was almost deafening at that range, and bumped her head reproachfully.

“Can you go check on Frind, please? Maybe you can wake him up?”

The horse lifted his head, whickered softly, and turned to step toward the fallen Shadow Hunter. He carefully nosed at Frind, failing to elicit a response, then whinnied back at Trissiny.

“I guess that was too much to ask,” she muttered, clinging desperately to what remained of her calm. “Goddess, please…”

Help is coming, Trissiny.

Avei didn’t speak to her often, at least not directly, but it had been often enough that she knew the voice. Trissiny barely choked back a sob of sheer relief, slumping forward against the chains. Her magic was still dampened by the disruptor, but at least she wasn’t cut off from the goddess. In hindsight, she supposed that had been a silly thing to be afraid of. No enchanted gimmick was a match for the will of Avei.

More hoofbeats sounded. These were clearly approaching from a distance; Trissiny raised her head again and schooled her features, determined to meet whatever approached with such poise as she could muster in her position.

The horse that trotted into the cemetery was a lean, almost delicate creature clearly bred for racing, which was far from its most notable characteristic. It was coal black, at least except for its legs, which faded into transparency, the hooves all but invisible. Its mane and tail were made of black mist, streaming off it and leaving ephemeral trails in its wake. Most striking of all were its eyes, which glowed a sullen orange, as though lit from within by fire.

Altogether it would have been a very alarming sight, except that Gabriel was riding it.

“Gabe!” she shouted before she could catch herself. He had paused to frown at the riderless Arjen, who neighed a greeting; at her shout, he zeroed in on her, and in the next moment was cantering to a stop beside her.

“I didn’t know you could ride,” Trissiny said, grinning in spite of herself.

“Well, I never tried before,” he said reasonably. “To be fair, I doubt I could ride anything other than Whisper, here, unless whoah what whoah!”

The shadow horse sidestepped away as its rider tumbled gracelessly to the ground.

“Mount and dismount from the left, Gabriel,” Ariel instructed.

“Duly noted,” he grumbled, straightening and brushing off his coat. “All right, let’s have a look at this… Are these chains magical?”

“I don’t know if they’re magical,” Trissiny replied, “but they were put there by magic. Grabbed me like tentacles.”

“Ew.” He grimaced and knelt next to her, drawing Ariel. “Hum…oh, yeah, these are at least half magic. I bet they’d fall apart completely if cut. Ariel, can you…”

“Give me a moment to examine the spells. This is infernal work—I am designed for arcane, which is the worst possible choice to counter it.”

“Right.”

“So you got your mount,” Trissiny said while he held Ariel’s hilt against the chains at her shoulder.

“Yeah,” Gabriel said, grinning somewhat awkwardly and looking up at Whisper, who nickered and nudged him with her nose. “Just as I made it out of the graveyard, actually. It was a risk, moving out—that asshole in the white suit said you and Toby were being held hostage. But I’ve got a few tricks of my own for avoiding attention. See how those Wreath bastards like a taste of their own medicine. I left two warlocks guarding an empty spot.”

“They didn’t notice you were leaving?” she asked incredulously.

“That’s the whole point,” he said with a grin. “I can’t do invisible, but I can make people not notice me.”

“I see.” Trissiny lowered her gaze from his, clearing her throat. It was altogether awkward, being chained to a tree while he knelt next to her. “So, um… You named her Whisper?”

“Oh, I didn’t—that’s her name. Wrynhild told me.”

“Who?”

“Oh, right. Uh, the valkyries I sent into the catacombs are still there, or so I assume, but Wrynhild just arrived. She’s shadowing me. They’ve got other things to do besides keep me company, but considering the volume of undead rising here, more are on their way.”

“There’s nothing I can do about this,” Ariel stated abruptly. “Maybe if you were a far more adept mage, Gabriel, but I would need a lot more power and expertise to unravel these.”

“Shit,” he said feelingly. Trissiny very nearly echoed him.

“In this case, I suggest a brute force approach. Have either of you regained your divine magic?”

There was a pause while they both narrowed their eyes in concentration, then exchanged a dispirited look.

“I see. Gabriel, does your wand still transform into its other form?”

“That’s an idea,” he said, stepping back and reaching into his coat.

“My sword is right there,” she said, nodding at the blade thrust point-down into the soil before her.

Gabriel grimaced. “You’ll forgive me if I’m not eager to lay my hands on that thing. Hah!” He had pulled out his wand as he spoke, and it extended smoothly into a scythe.

“Splendid. That weapon weaves together multiple types of magic; I highly doubt those chains will stand up to it.”

“Right,” he said, drawing back the scythe. “Here we go!”

Trissiny cringed and ducked her head. “Please be careful!”

“You don’t say,” he retorted, and brought the scythe down against the chains on the opposite side of the tree. The blade bit deep into the wood, slicing through chains as if they weren’t there. Instantly, they dissolved entirely into ashes and Trissiny slumped forward, barely catching herself from taking a faceplant into the soil.

“Oh, thank the goddess,” she gasped, straightening. “And thank you.”

“I’d say you got those in the right order,” Gabriel said with a grin, giving her a hand up.

“Mogul said he was leaving a warlock to watch me,” she said, picking up her sword and peering around suspiciously.

“A warlock who probably does not want to engage two paladins, one of whom has working magic.”

“Still, won’t hurt to be careful,” said Gabriel. “I had to leave my Shadow Hunters behind with the Wreath; I owe them an apology. Hope they’re okay. Where’s your guy?”

“Frind,” she said urgently, grabbing her shield and dashing toward the fallen hunter. In seconds, she and Gabriel were both kneeling next to him.

He appeared to be simply unconscious; his breathing and pulse were even, and there was no visible damage to him.

“He appears to have been struck by a category two shadow bolt,” Ariel announced. “That should leave no lingering effects even for a person of average health, but this man is bolstered by a small amount of fae craft. He will likely be conscious within half an hour at most. If weapons such as that are going to be coming into use, it might serve you both to start carrying healing potions.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Trissiny said. “What about Frind, though? Surely we can’t just leave him here…”

Gabriel scratched his head. “I…don’t have any ideas, Triss. I still can’t feel the light, and my enchanting is basically useless for healing.”

“Right now it seems tactically more important to rescue Mr. Caine and return to Veilgrad. The hunter will likely remain unharmed, and if not, losses must be accepted in an engagement like this.”

“Ariel,” Gabriel said flatly, “I appreciate your magical help, but Trissiny is the tactical expert here, and I really don’t care to hear your thoughts on ethics.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Much as it galls me,” Trissiny growled, “she’s not wrong. We have to get Toby and get back to Veilgrad. I…actually don’t think Frind’s in any danger, or likely the others, either. The Wreath was very careful not to actually hurt any of us. They’re still trying to court Vadrieny’s favor.”

He snorted. “I wonder how they plan to explain this horseshit.”

“I don’t doubt they’ve got a story ready and waiting,” she said grimly. “But we can’t worry about that right now. Come on, we’d better get moving.”

With a final, remorseful glance at Frind, she bounded into Arjen’s saddle and watched Gabriel approach Whisper. The shadow horse had no saddle or tack; she wondered how he controlled her without reins. A skilled rider could direct a horse with just their knees, but Gabriel…

“From the left,” she reminded him.

“Right!”

Finally, he was mounted and trotting toward the gate beside her.

“Gabe,” she said suddenly.

“Mm?”

“The place I left you was about equidistant between Toby’s spot and here. If you had to choose one of us to rescue… Why’d you pick me?”

Gabriel didn’t look at her, keeping his face on the trail ahead with a grim stare. “It’s… Tactics. The trick I played on the Wreath won’t hold with me out of their range. By the time I got to either of you, they’d be reacting. Whoever I wasn’t there to help would have to hold out until the both of us could reach him…or her.” He shrugged, a short, jerky motion. “You can both take care of yourselves. Since I was gonna find my last friend probably in dire straits… I wanted to be coming in with somebody who I know will go for the kill.”

Trissiny nodded. “That…was good thinking.”

“I do manage it from time to time,” he said with a faint smile.

She urged Arjen into a gallop, and he followed a moment later. They pounded down the mountain trail, making straight for a warlock who was about to have a very bad day.

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“And this is where we part ways,” said Grip, turning to grin at Squad One. “See you girls in a little bit.” The enforcer slipped silently into a side alley, her footsteps inaudible within seconds.

“Why that one again?” Merry wondered aloud.

“Good choice for this operation,” said Principia, starting forward again. “C’mon, forward march. Grip is a good intimidator; since we’re about to interrupt a bunch of citizens meeting at a privately owned warehouse, that may be a useful skill. If they aren’t as dumb as the ones in the carriage, they won’t attack us or do anything hostile, in which case the presence of scary Thieves’ Guild personnel will be important in getting them to turn themselves in. We can’t arrest people for talking about how much they hate dragons.”

“I really don’t have a good feeling about this,” said Casey. “Any part of it. Even if it all goes well, and disregarding that we’re basically hoping to get people to attack us, I don’t like using the Guild to lean on people like that.”

“And that is why Grip is leading the Eserite side of this,” Principia replied. “I don’t know who else the Guild sent, but she’s good at toeing the line. She won’t let any of them inflict any harm that’s not immediately necessary. Which will mean none; this won’t be more than a dozen people if our intel is correct, and if they do attack trained Legionnaires, so much the worse for them.”

“If our intel is correct,” Merry repeated dryly. “I like how you just say that, as if it’s a given.”

“Nothing’s a given,” Principia murmured. “Life is a sequence of bullshit surprises.”

“When we met this Grip before,” Ephanie commented, “you didn’t seem to know her that well, Sarge.”

“True,” Prin agreed. “Hence, I’ve been taking pains to get the gossip while I was out gathering resources for us. I know what I’m doing, ladies.”

“If I knew what you were doing half the time I think I’d feel a lot better,” Merry muttered.

It was barely past sunrise, and would have been dim even had Tiraas not been shrouded in heavy fog that morning. Fairy lamps were eerie floating witch-lights in the gloom, their supporting poles invisible; everything else was washed-out and obscured by the mist. It was quieter than usual for the hour, creating an impression that even sound was quashed by the oppressive fog, though in truth it was just a matter of people avoiding going out in it. Everyone who could get away with staying indoors this morning seemed to have jumped at the chance.

In short, it was a good morning for clandestine meetings, and for sneaking up on them.

Squad One was passing through a poorer district, tenements rising on all sides; up ahead, less than a block distant but not yet visible through the gloom, was the warehouse district in which the anti-dragon rendezvous was to take place. Grip and the other Thieves’ Guild enforcers would be assembling on roofs around the warehouse in question, preparing for the Legionnaires to make their entrance through the front.

Suddenly, Principia slammed to a halt, peering about in alarm.

“What is it?” Farah demanded. “Sarge? You okay?”

“Sorry about that,” a voice said cheerfully, and a human man in an offensively colorful suit stepped around a corner directly in front of them. He was carrying, of all things, a lute, heedless of the effect the damp air would have on its strings, and wore an absurd floppy hat trailing a long ostrich plume. Beneath his maroon coat and pants he wore a pink shirt, with a loosely-tied cravat of powder blue. “Okay, well, to be totally honest, not that sorry. I do so enjoy a spot of dramatic effect!”

“Who are you?” Ephanie demanded.

“Avelea, stand down,” Principia said curtly. “All of you.”

“Now, now, Prin, don’t agitate them,” the man admonished. “I assure you, I mean you no harm. In fact, I’ve come to help!”

“That,” she said, “may be the most horrible news I’ve ever heard.”

“Who is this guy?” Merry asked her in a low tone while he burst out laughing.

“Ah, haha, me?” The fellow grinned hugely, waggling his eyebrows beneath his absurd hat. “Just a simple bard—no one to be concerned with. Prin’s just being overcautious. Not that I blame her! Anyway, though, time’s a-wasting, and as much as I love pausing to indulge in a bit of banter, you have an appointment to keep.”

“Yeah,” said Casey, “and you’re kind of standing right in the way of it.”

“Oh, but that’s not the one I meant,” the bard said merrily. “Now, I normally don’t give out spoilers, but everything is about timing. What’s happening her doesn’t quite reflect the synchronicity evident in other parts of—well, that’s neither here nor there, quite literally.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Merry exclaimed.

“Lang,” Principia said sharply, “respect!”

“Now, now, she has a fair point,” he said, waggling a finger at the elf. “Here is is, ladies. If you continue on with your mission, well… Things will proceed as they have been. You’ll be one step closer to your goal—but only one step. How would you like it if I could get you to the very end of that ladder? Right now, today, this morning?”

“We’re listening,” Principia said warily.

“Good,” the bard said, grinning broadly. “It may interest you to know that dear Saduko is not…trusted. That fact makes her very useful to her various employers; letting her overhear things is an easy way to get information into the hands of her other contacts. For example, the meeting you are now going to interrupt is a diversion. The real event is on the other side of the city. If you proceed to the south gate, you will find the way…suspiciously clear. Follow the path marked by a lack of the soldiers who should be defending the gate, and you’ll come to the organizers of this little movement. Who knows, you may be able to apprehend them! Probably not, but just disrupting their meeting should be enough to move yourselves out of the quagmire of other people’s agendas in which you are currently stuck.”

“Who are you?” Farah asked, frowning. “Have I seen you somewhere before?”

“You probably have, Farah my dear,” he said with a kind smile. “Not in person, but there are pictures. Anyway! That’s all I’ve got for you, ladies. It’s already more than I’m in the habit of giving most people, but what can I say? A great doom is coming, and it doesn’t suit my interests to have everybody bogged down in pointless intrigue. The rest is up to you.”

“Why are you doing this?” Principia asked tersely.

The bard grinned, and winked. “Oh, Prin. Dear, clever little Prin. Why do I do anything? Because when we’re all looking back on this, it’ll make a hell of a story.”

And then he was gone. There was no pop of disturbed air, no swelling of shadows, no arcane flash. Where the man had stood, suddenly, there was nothing but fog.

“What the hell?” Merry demanded. “Sarge? Who was that? What’s going on?”

Principia drew a deep breath. “Shit. Fuck. Veth’na alaue. It’s never good when they start talking to you directly… Oh, hell, I’m more than half tempted to just ignore that whole thing and go on as we were…”

“Sergeant Locke,” Merry said shrilly, “either you are going to start making sense or—”

“His aura,” Principia interrupted, “was…enormous. The size of the city, almost. It was like standing next to the sun.”

“You can see auras?” Ephanie asked warily.

“I’m an elf,” Principia said acidly. “I am an aura. We’re as much magical as biological. Yes, I can tell when I’m next to one of that size. And it wasn’t there until a second before he appeared. Now it’s just…gone. There’s really only one kind of being that can do that.”

Farah emitted a small squeak; everyone turned to look at her. She swallowed heavily.

“I—I just remembered where I’ve seen him. That guy. In…illustrations, like he said. He—he looked like…” She swallowed again. “Like how Vesk is depicted.”

There was a long moment of silence. The fog swirled gently around them.

“Why us?” Merry asked plaintively. “Why is it always us?”

“Avelea,” Principia said, turning to Ephanie, “what do the regulations concerning divine intervention say?”

Ephanie blinked her eyes twice as if to clear her vision before answering slowly. “If…as long as the deity in question is not opposed to Avei’s aims, and nor is the request they make, a Pantheon god’s orders supersede anyone else’s, excepting potentially that of the High Commander or a Hand of Avei, depending on the circumstances.”

Principia drew in a breath and let it out in a huff. “Szaravid, you know your lore. Does Vesk have a reputation for leading people into trouble?”

“Only people who deserve it,” Farah said weakly. “When he gives advice to heroes in the stories, it’s always good advice. That’s…rare, though. Even in myth. Really, really rare. He hardly ever appears to anyone who’s not a bard.”

“Apropos of nothing,” said Casey, “the last Vesker we met was involved in trying to dupe us…”

“She was as much a dupe as we were,” said Principia. “All right. Well, he wasn’t making a request, per se, but I think I can defend this to an officer if challenged.”

“Are we really going to…” Merry trailed off at Principia’s nod. “Bugger. Never mind the officers; we’d be running off on the Guild. They’re not forgiving types, are they?”

“I will worry about that,” Principia said grimly. “He said going to the south gate would skip us ahead in this. After the unending and ridiculous bullshit this whole thing has been, ladies, I find I quite like the sound of that. About face and march.”

 

Dawn, as always, came late to Veilgrad. The city was awake and alive well before sunrise appeared above the towering mountains that walled off the eastern horizon, its streets lit by a mixture of fairy lamps and firelight that reflected its blend of modern and classic Shaathist sensibilities.

The courtyard of the old trading guild hall which the Army had taken over was mostly in shadow, the lights being positioned primarily to illuminate the bays surrounding it. There were properly enclosed offices, but for the most part the sprawling structure was an open-air market, its roofless central area surrounded by roofed but unwalled spaces, with the actual building along the side opposite its broad gates. Those opened onto one of Veilgrad’s central squares, providing a lovely view of the fountain in the center and the cathedral beyond.

“Yes, it’s less secure than the barracks,” Major Razsha was saying in response to Gabriel’s question, “but security isn’t our primary concern, here. The gate guards are adequate to keep the public out. For purposes of this operation, the main attractions of the old trading hall are its central location in the city and its direct access to the catacombs.”

“I see,” Gabriel said, panning his stare around at the bay in which the Army had set up. Others had been used as staging areas for the search teams being dispatched, but all of those had gone underground an hour ago, thankfully taking the Huntsmen with them. The Shaathists, though eager to be helpful, were also eager to be boastful and several had made a point of trying to antagonize Trissiny. Now, the students and Razsha’s strike team, along with Adjavegh and the mages coordinating with the search teams, were clustered in the roofed bay closest to the catacombs access. Waiting.

Gabriel heaved a sigh and resumed pacing back and forth, Razsha watching him with open amusement. “This is insufferable.”

“This is an actual military operation,” Trissiny said calmly. She had been standing by a pillar next to the courtyard for nearly an hour, radiating patience. “You guys haven’t actually been along on any of those until now; they involve a lot of tedium. There is a reason armies run according to regulations, you know. Patience and enduring long waits are necessary skills in the army. More soldiers are killed by carelessness, disease, and accidents than battle. By far.”

“It’s not like you’ve ever been in an actual war,” Gabriel said, giving her an annoyed glance as he passed.

“Any contest of wills and powers is war,” Trissiny said quietly. He sighed and altered his trajectory to pace on the other side of the bay. Colonel Adjavegh glanced between him and Trissiny expressionlessly before returning his attention to the battlemage overseeing the large rack of runic charms being used to keep in contact with the search teams.

“Hey, Fross?” Trissiny said, still in a soft voice. The pixie had been making a slow circuit of the rafters, and now fluttered over.

“What’s up?”

“How are talking swords made?”

Razsha, standing at the other side of the opening into the courtyard with the rest of her strike team, glanced over but did not move. The other students began drifting closer.

“Ah,” said Fross. “Can I assume you’ve been pondering this since yesterday?”

“I probably should have brought it up at the manor last night,” Trissiny murmured, glancing at Gabriel, who seemed lost in thought. “But, well… The downtime here…”

“Yeah, I getcha.” Fross emitted a descending series of chimes like a sigh. “Well, of course, modern golems operate on logic controllers—their intelligences are assembled, step by step. Which is why they have very simple minds: an actual intelligence is too complex to just build. Honestly, Crystal is probably the most advanced golem intelligence in the world, and I have no idea how Professor Tellwyrn made her. And even she’s got glitches and giveaways that betray her nature. And then…there’s the older method, that was used to make things like Ariel.”

“Go on,” Trissiny urged when the pixie paused for thought.

“Well, Ariel’s much more realistic, y’know? She conversese just like a real person. It takes some long-term exposure to figure out the ways in which she’s incomplete. Her personality is totally static—she can’t adapt or change her behavior at all. Also, she doesn’t really have any compassion or the ability to relate emotionally to other beings. That’s standard for things made in that method. There are some friendlier ones, but that’s very hard to do. It’s because… A magical intelligence made that way is an imperfect copy of a soul.”

“A soul?” Teal asked, leaning forward. The rest of the group had wandered over by now, their attention on the pixie.

Fross bobbed up and down in affirmation. “Yeah. To do that… Well, the procedure is seriously banned, so I was only able to look up the broad strokes. Gabe and I researched this when Ariel first started talking to us, you see. Um… Basically, you have to release a soul from its mortal body and capture a sort of image of it in the instant between its release and it departing this plane. You can’t do it while it’s on another plane, or part of a living person.”

“By release,” Toby said, “you mean…”

“You know what she means,” Trissiny said flatly. “You have to kill someone. Right?”

“Right,” Fross chimed, her glow dimming slightly. “And…that’s not the worst part. This process… Well, it’s incredibly hard to time that exactly right, and even if you do it perfectly, there’s a random element. To duplicate a soul’s function like that… Um. Every successful talking sword probably represents multiple attempts.”

They digested that in silence, staring at the black sword hanging from Gabriel’s belt. He glanced up at them and stopped his pacing, frowning.

“What? Do I have something on my face?”

“Contact, team nine,” the battlemage suddenly said crisply in response to a rhythmic flickering of one of the runes on the control apparatus. A moment later, others began flickering. “Contact, team six…team seven… Teams four, eight and—sir, all teams are reporting enemy contact!”

Adjavegh narrowed his eyes at the display. “This is not a coincidence. How close together are the teams?”

“Triangulating,” she said, fingers flickering across the runes lining the rim of the control rack. “…minimum distance between any two teams is two hundred yards. Team four reporting overwhelming numbers. Team six reporting a severe threat…”

“Damn it,” Adjavegh hissed. Razsha stepped over to stand at his shoulder. “They were ready for us. Lieutenant, signal a retreat. Get them back here!”

“Yes, sir!” the mage said, rhythmically tapping the control rune that made its counterparts in the search team’s hands flicker a coded message.

“That’ll draw whatever’s attacked them back here,” Razsha pointed out.

“We have firepower concentrated here,” Adjavegh replied, glancing at her team and the students, who had now pressed forward to stare at the suddenly flashing runes on the control board. “If it chases them that far, we will deal with it. If any of the teams signal distress, we’ll send forces down to assist, though it may be hard to navigate to them. Lieutenant, status?”

“All teams except two and six have acknowledged—team two has just—wait. All teams acknowledge and confirm retreat order. They’re on the way back, sir.” She paused momentarily, eyes flicking back and forth at the flashing lights. “None are signaling for reinforcements. Team six just downgraded their threat assessment. Team four repeating overwhelming numbers, but not asking for help.”

“Massed skeletons,” Razsha said. “Like two of the cults we took out up here. What kinds of threats are they facing, Lieutenant?”

“Unknown, ma’am, the codes are not that precise. No teams have used the prearranged signal for chaos effects. Team four just downgraded their threat assessment, persistent but falling off—teams three and eight have signaled no further pursuit.”

“Damn it,” Adjavegh repeated. “Either they knew we were coming, or they’ve got an enormous force blocking off the catacombs below a certain level.”

“Given the complexity of the tunnel system, sir, likely the former,” said Timms.

“Agreed. Shift our remaining personnel to cover the entrance, and put the healers on alert for—”

He broke off as a bell began to toll over the city. A moment later it was followed by another from a different direction, and then a third.

“Oh, hell,” Razsha whispered.

“Major!” the Colonel barked. “Get your team out there, see what that is and put a stop to it.”

“Sir!” She saluted even as the other three members of her team sprinted to her side. With a crackled and a blue arcane flash, they vanished.

“What’s happening?” Juniper demanded.

“Those are alarm bells,” said Trissiny, even as a fourth one began chiming. “Some disaster is unfolding in the city, at multiple points. Right as our search teams came under coordinated attack in the catacombs.”

“Should we move out?” Toby asked. “If we can help…”

“Not yet,” Adjavegh snapped. “You! Demon and pixie, get aloft, see if you can spot what’s happening. Report back here, though, don’t rush off to interfere!”

Fross immediately zipped out from under the roof and fluttered skyward, followed a moment later by Teal dashing into the courtyard. She burst alight with hellfire as soon as she was in the open, and then shot straight up.

“The Colonel’s right, we need intel before moving,” Trissiny said tersely. “This could be a ploy to divide our forces.”

Before anyone could respond, shouts and the crack of lightning bolts sounded from the office complex just beyond their improvised headquarters. Everyone was moving in seconds.

Trissiny and Gabriel were first into the office where lay the trapdoor access to the catacombs, watched over by four soldiers. All four were firing their staves non-stop into the morass of bones pouring out of the opening, to little effect. Skeletons surged out like spiders, clawing and clambering over each other in their haste to escape the tunnels. The bones were mostly old, many coming apart from the simple effort of pushing up through their own numbers; many more were blasted to charred fragments by lightning bolts. And still, they kept coming, their sheer numbers pushing into the room through the onslaught. In only seconds, piles of bone fragments began to form around the trapdoor, drifting higher and doing nothing to inhibit the skeletons continuing to crawl over them.

Gabriel shouted something, the words lost amid the screams, blasts, and the dry clatter of bone upon bone; he pointed at the hole with his wand, which swelled in his hand into a wicked-looking scythe. Immediately, every skeleton in the throng collapsed into disconnected fragments. Seconds later, the soldiers ceased their fire, staring at the hole. Pieces of bone poured downward with a relentless clatter, the drifts of now-lifeless bones moving under no force but gravity.

“Valkyries,” Gabriel said into the sudden quiet. “Like I said, that kind of undead is simple. I’ve got nine here; they all went down the tunnels to help the search teams. That means we’re on our own if that happens again,” he added, turning back to face the others.

“Good man,” said Colonel Adjavegh from the door behind them. He was carrying a stave, currently leveled at the hole, but had not fired. “Timms! Get this mess cleared out; this is our people’s exit from those tunnels. We will not sacrifice this position.”

“Getting us to do so was the obvious purpose of that attack,” said Trissiny.

Fross zipped into the room, already chattering as she arrived. “Sir! Colonel! Everybody! We’ve got fires at four places in the city, a lot more people seem to be panicking in multiple areas for reasons I couldn’t see from that altitude, I really suggest getting Vadrieny down out of the air ‘cos I think she’s scaring people even more, and there’s five Shadow Hunters at the gate to the courtyard being stopped by your soldiers asking for Trissiny.”

“Come on!” Trissiny barked, turning and pushing back through the others out of the office. The group moved with her, streaming toward the courtyard, even as Adjavegh ordered Fross to find Vadrieny and get her back down.

They skidded to a halt outside as, with a sharp pop, a spinning wheel materialized out of midair, dropping half a foot to stand in the middle of the opening to the courtyard. It rocked for a second before settling.

Everyone stared at the perfectly mundane, apparently harmless object.

“Okay, I know I say this a lot,” said Ruda, gesturing at the wheel, “but really, now. What the fuck?”

“I don’t sense anything dangerous from that,” Trissiny said, frowning. A silver bubbled formed around the spinning wheel. “Oh. Good idea, Shaeine.”

“Thank you,” the drow replied as everyone stepped carefully around the shielded appliance.

“Let them through!” Trissiny barked at the soldiers in the front, striding toward the front gates. “Raichlin! What’s happening!”

“General Avelea,” the bearded hunter said in obvious relief. “Trouble is what’s happening. We’ve got undead cropping up all over the city. Almost every cemetery and tomb—it’s bad.”

“Shit,” said Gabriel. “All right, where is it worst? I just sent my valkyries into the catacombs…”

“That probably is where it’s worst, but that’s not why I came,” Raichlin said urgently. “We have more trouble than that. There are a lot of tombs and graveyards in the foothills around the city; those started acting up first, well before the cemeteries in the city proper. They’re also spewing skeletons and zombies, but none of them are getting close to the walls.”

“What?” Toby exclaimed. “Why not?”

“Because,” the hunter said grimly, “they are being beaten back by demons. There are warlocks in gray robes at multiple sites, spawning waves of katzils and khankredahgs. They are doing a very good job of keeping the undead in check, but there are other problems. Objects, people and skeletons have started teleporting around apparently at random.”

“Omnu’s breath,” Gabriel said in horror. “If the warlocks are opening multiple dimensional rifts in proximity to a known chaos effect…”

“And this,” Trissiny snarled, “is why you don’t let the Black Wreath help!”

“That has to be dealt with,” Adjavegh barked, striding toward them just as Vadrieny dropped to the pavement nearby, followed a moment later by Fross. “We can’t establish any kind of secure perimeter with that going on. There’s no way to get the civilians into safe areas if nothing’s going to stay put! Fross, find Razsha’s team and brief her—I want her back here immediately. Securing this space is now priority one.”

“Yessir!” the pixie chimed, shooting back aloft.

“You—Raichlin, yes? Can you deal with the warlocks?”

“My people are trying to keep the werewolves from getting into the city,” he said. “What you see here is all I’ve got left. The weres are agitated, too—and transformed even though it’s not night, which is making it worse. If one of them randomly teleports into the walls…”

“This is a catastrophe,” Timms whispered.

“Stay frosty, corporal,” Adjavegh snapped. “Someone has to shut down those warlocks. How many sites are active, Raichlin?”

“At least half a dozen.”

“Then we’ll have to divide forces to deal with them all…” The Colonel drew in a deep breath and let it out through his teeth, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

“We need to send the paladins,” said Ruda. Everyone turned to stare at her. “Think about it—they’re chaos-resistant, not to mention the best choice to stop warlocks, and Trissiny’s horse is big enough to carry all three, so they can move fast. Drop Toby and Gabe at two sites and proceed to the next. Raichlin’s people can guide them; split three ways you can shut ’em down faster.”

“We can keep up with a horse,” Raichlin agreed, nodding. “Even a divine one. For a while, at least.”

“The Wreath will listen to me,” said Vadrieny, “and I can reach them faster…”

“Yeah, but they’re trying to get to you,” said Ruda. “After this bullshit, I think giving the Wreath anything they want is a bad idea. You’ll be needed here in case we have another undead outbreak. You, Juniper and Fross have offensive power, Shaeine can provide shields and healing, and my sword’ll be necessary if a chaos effect happens here.”

“Good,” Adjavegh said crisply. “I like it. Get it done. Timms, signal the barracks to enact protocol… Oh, damn it, which is the one that orders civilians to gather here and in the cathedral?”

“On it, sir,” Timms said, whirling and dashing back toward the battlemage still manning the runic signal array.

“It’s a plan, then,” said Trissiny, vaulting into Arjen’s saddle and holding out a hand to Toby. “No time to waste.”

The sun finally peeked over the mountains, beaming down upon a city in the grip of chaos.

 

Joe almost didn’t want to stop running, so exuberant was the experience of dashing along under the influence of Raea’s blessing. He covered over a dozen yards in each bound, and his feet placed themselves precisely on secure footholds on the rocky upper plane of the Badlands. Was this what it was like to be an elf all the time? If anything, the precise data his senses constantly fed him was a little disorienting, leaping along at these speeds, but he quickly moved past that and into the sheer joy of the exercise. It must have been even better for the others; even McGraw and Billie were keeping up without effort, the gnome with many a shrieking laugh of pure delight.

Dawn had just come when he finally skidded to a stop on a flat stretch of stony ground, kicking up a spray of dust; the others alit beside him, Billie pinwheeling her arms frantically and nearly pitching forward into the cracked ground.

The enormous panther arrived a second later; the other elves had all peeled away as they ran, now doubtless taking up positions around the town.

“Be still a moment,” Raea said, again in her bipedal form. “I need to cancel that blessing on you, and it’s best if you aren’t moving around. Otherwise you may find yourself quite fatigued by the experience. Give me a moment to concentrate.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Joe said, already regretting the loss of the effect—but she was right, there was no way they’d be able to fight like that. He had already discovered that only his feet were enhanced, along with the instincts to control them properly. Actually using his wands while bouncing about like a jackrabbit would have been prohibitively challenging even for him.

While Raea closed her eyes and whispered to herself, he studied Risk. The town was tiny, a bare dozen dusty little stone and adobe buildings clustered around a well. He detected not a twitch of movement.

“Is this the right place?” Weaver asked, scratching beneath his hat.

“Yes,” Raea said curtly, opening her eyes. “You may move again. And yes, they are present—in that largest building, there, just off the central square. My scouts have been in place since sunrise, watching. The dwarves have all been sent away.” She turned her head to face McGraw. “All to the same mining tunnel, unlike their previous pattern. It appears Khadizroth knows we are coming, and wanted them out of harm’s way.”

“Mm,” the old wizard grunted, leaning on his staff with both hands as he studied the town. “I trust you’ve got your folk takin’ care of that as we speak?”

“Of course.”

“Here, now,” Joe said worriedly. “Not to sound soft-hearted, but those dwarves are just doin’ a job. In fact, they were willin’ to leave their homes and risk their lives for the purpose of takin’ Belosiphon’s skull out of commission. Them, at least, we oughtta handle respectfully.”

“Who’s we?” Weaver snorted.

“That is being taken into consideration, Joseph,” Raea said with a little smile. “Dwarves are slow, absurdly strong and incredibly durable, at least from an elf’s perspective. Incapacitating them harmlessly is, if anything, easier than killing them. Meanwhile, we should lay plans while my people are engaged dealing with the miners.”

“No,” McGraw said softly, still staring at the town through narrowed eyes.

“No?” Raea arched an eyebrow.

“No, that’s…what we would do. Khadizroth knows us; he’s fought us, knows our strengths. He’ll be expecting us to come in careful-like, position ourselves an’ try to take out his allies one by one.”

“Yeah,” Weaver said in exasperation, “because that’s the only sensible thing to do here!”

“Wait,” said Joe, “I think I see what he means. Khadizroth’s strength here isn’t just his power—remember what he was doin’ with the Cobalt Dawn? He’s a planner. An’ we know he goaded us out here deliberately, knowin’ how we’d react. So…how would we not react?”

“Hm.” Weaver frowned deeply, then just as suddenly smiled. “Well. I guess the thing we’d be least likely to do is charge in, wands blazing, with no plan.”

“I think not doing that would be an excellent idea,” Raea said sharply.

“Hey, Fallowstone,” Weaver said, ignoring her. “What’s the biggest, explodiest, most ridiculous thing you’ve got in those pockets?”

“Aw, Damian,” Billie said with a huge grin, already pulling lengths of metal out of her pouches. “Just when I think I’ve got a handle on you, y’have to go an’ say somethin’ that makes me all tingly.”

“Ugh. Why do you always have to make it weird?”

 

“That’s them, all right,” the Jackal said, staring out the window of Khadizroth’s office and fingering the long scar running across his right ear. True to the dragon’s word, it had been successfully reattached, but not without leaving a livid mark. “No sign of Raea’s little rats, it’s just the adventurers. The gnome’s doing something…”

“Are they just gonna stand there all morning?” Shook growled, pacing back and forth.

“You know, my boy, you’ve been getting positively antsy since your demon squeeze was sent off on assignment,” the Jackal said, turning to leer at him. “I’m concerned it’ll affect your performance. Wanna step around the corner and work off some of that steam? I mean, I don’t have nearly as impressive a pair of tits, but—”

“Enough,” Khadizroth said firmly as Shook rounded on the elf, clenching his fists. “This is not the time to be sniping at one another. For the moment, things are going well; our foes received our invitation and responded just as planned. This is a critical moment, my friends. They will either step into the noose, or exhibit more forethought than I anticipated.”

“Oh, I hope it’s the second one,” the Jackal whispered, turning back to the window. “It’s not nearly as satisfying to kill a trapped rabbit.”

“In other circumstances, I’d be inclined to agree,” said Shook. “Give me a straight-up, honest fight over this sneaking around any day. But against these guys…”

“They have considerably more strength than honor,” Vannae agreed quietly.

A blue light flashed from the plains outside the town. All four of them stood, stepping over to the window to stare.

It looked like a star ascending skyward; the blossom of pale blue fire burned brightly enough to be clearly visible, even against the morning sky. It soared upward to nearly two hundred feet, and suddenly erupted. Or, more accurately, shattered, dispersing into dozens of blazing points of light.

“The hell is this?” Shook marveled. “They’re putting on a fireworks display?”

“Probably signaling the tribesmen,” said the Jackal with a grin. “Looks like we can expect company momentarily!”

“Ah,” said Khadizroth in a tone of chagrin. “I might have known it wouldn’t be so easy. Gentlemen, if you would kindly cluster a little closer together?”

“Why?” Shook demanded, turning to frown at him. “What’s up?”

“When in an intractable situation,” said the dragon, “sometimes one’s best bet is to simply…shake up the playing field. Unfortunately, our guests seem to have come to the same conclusion. Closer, please. Now.”

“Wait,” said Vannae. “Are those lights getting…bigger?”

“Now!” Khadizroth said urgently, spreading his arms as if to embrace them. A whirling sphere of air formed in the office, sheathing the men inside a transparent bubble of wind, and not a moment too soon.

More than twenty burning arcane charges slammed into the town at nearly the speed of sound, reducing half of Risk to rubble in seconds.

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“Why is it,” demanded the Colonel, “that every time I see you kids, some fresh damn havoc is unfolding?”

“Correlation is not causation,” said Fross, “just for the record.”

“We are bringing you valuable intelligence,” Trissiny said sharply. “It’s not as if we put cultists in the tunnels.”

“Yes, fine, you’re right,” Adjavegh replied. He leaned back in his chair with a heavy sigh. “I do appreciate that. Interesting to finally meet all of you, too.”

“This may very well be exactly the break we need,” Major Razsha said, frowning pensively. “The catacombs, hm. Naturally, we’ve done sweeps of them, but the tunnel systems are plenty large enough to hide in, if somebody were really determined to do so.”

“We’ve not seen any indication we’re dealing with a foe who has that kind of capability,” Adjavegh said, scowling. “At least until very recently. Anyone who could launch a raid on this barracks could evade our admittedly cursory search of the catacombs. And on the subject of which, it seems to me the most likely culprits of that are the Black Wreath, since they seem to be active in the city and admittedly launched an operation against us.”

“I agree,” said Trissiny.

“I’m not sure I do,” Razsha mused. “That Wreath agent’s story is remarkably unconvincing. An organization like that made an admitted attempt on the barracks, and claim they were driven off by chaos cultists? It doesn’t add up.”

“One of us must be getting old, Major,” Adjavegh said sardonically. “You seem to be implying that the Wreath must be innocent because they are obviously lying.”

“I am implying that they may be innocent because their story appears to be a lie. The Wreath are deceivers, and very good ones. If they wanted to tell us a story, it would be a believable and compelling one. I’m not proposing to trust them, obviously… But they do have reason to defer to Vadrieny—and her host—and if they’re as much in the dark as we, it would explain why they don’t have a ready answer to who actually attacked the barracks.”

“Unless that’s what they want us to think,” said Gabriel. “Sorry, Teal—I’ve not dealt with the Wreath, to my knowledge, but I’ve had one good brush with an opportunistic warlock. They’re capable of anything.”

“If they know that we know that they know…” Shaeine shook her head. “That path is a spiral into deeper and deeper confusion. I concur with the Major’s reasoning; the Wreath would be able to point us in the direction they chose, rather than admitting weakness and a lack of information.”

“Hmph,” Colonel Adjavegh muttered. “If this is true, it explains much. The chaos cults have been popping up regularly, and have been strangely consistent in their methodology. If they are all part of the same cult… And operating from the catacombs would account for how they’ve avoided us.”

“It could also explain the apparently greater capability of these chaos agents,” Razsha added. “None of the necromancers we’ve seen so far could do more than raise skeletons. These apparently had an elaborate necromantic construct, and are operating at a higher level of sophistication. They could have been sending up their most erratic offshoots as a distraction while building toward something bigger. Something like attacking the Army.”

A brief silence fell while they all considered this. The meeting was an unbalanced reflection of the three paladins’ earlier session in this office: Adjavegh behind his desk, Corporal Timms discreetly at his shoulder and Razsha standing off to the side. The full group of students made for a crowded space, however, and the rest of Razsha’s strike team was not present this time.

“About those weapons,” Toby began.

“That is classified,” Adjavegh snapped, “and that is all that will be said on the matter.” Major Razsha raised an eyebrow, but offered no comment as the Colonel continued. “Obviously, our next step must be a much more thorough search of the catacombs. Timms, start drawing up shift assignments. I want a sweep-and-harry pattern; if we start at the top and push down, blocking every path out, they’ll have nowhere to run. We’ll find them if they’re down there.”

“Sir,” said Timms, “that isn’t possible.”

“Excuse me?” the Colonel said dangerously, turning to glare at her.

“We simply do not have the manpower, sir,” she said. “Even if all the wounded from the attack were cleared for duty, we wouldn’t. The catacomb system is far too large and complicated, and even we don’t have comprehensive maps. We don’t know where all the exits are, but there are a good many into private residences and businesses.”

“There’s another matter,” said Razsha. “If this is indeed the source of our troubles, it stands to reason the chaos rift is down there somewhere. Going into that… Our soldiers are trained to fight with staves, which are magical. Firing them too close to a chaos rift could be disastrous.”

Trissiny coughed discreetly. “Colonel, the Third Silver Legion is stationed in Tiraas; I can have them here by Rail tomorrow. That would considerably bolster your forces, and Legionnaires are trained for hand-to-hand engagements without magical weapons.”

“I appreciate that, Avelea,” Adjavegh said, frowning into space, “but I’ll have to consider it a last resort. Marching a Silver Legion into Veilgrad would signal something serious is afoot at the very least—it’ll rile the populace and send our quarry deeper into hiding. There’s enough Shaathist sympathy in this city that it may very well cause us additional trouble. Omnu’s breath, Timms, stop that throat-clearing! If you have an idea, spit it out.”

“Yes, sir,” the corporal said. “The local Huntsmen of Shaath have numbers and are experienced fighters with non-magical weapons, both hand-to-hand and at range. They are also likely to be more familiar with the catacomb system than any of our personnel, being local.”

“Shaathist weapons have elemental blessings,” said Toby. “Fae and divine magic, both. Could be risky, going up against chaos.”

“Their weapons can be switched out for non-magical ones,” Razsha mused. “That’d be a hard sell, but probably the only difficult part of involving them. Huntsmen love chasing difficult prey.”

“If we coordinate with the lodge,” said Timms, “and approach this as a seek-and-capture operation, I think it has a much better chance of succeeding, sir.”

“Very well,” Adjavegh said with a sigh. “Contact the Master and brief him. Politely; I do not need that strutting rooster adding to my headaches.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now, as for these constructs,” the Colonel continued. “I gather we can expect more. Arquin, can’t you do anything about undead?”

“Not that kind,” said Gabriel, shaking his head. “That was… Well, basically a golem made from body parts. Most of the simpler kinds of necromancy work by establishing a link between the body and the spirit, either of its original soul or another. That can be severed instantly. If they come at us with zombies, skeletons…no problem.”

“But the bigger things you can’t do anything about,” Adjavegh said sarcastically. “How inconvenient.”

“I can do plenty about them, Colonel,” Gabriel retorted. “Can’t turn them off as easy as flipping a switch, but anything breaks if you blast it hard enough.” Ruda chuckled.

“We should consider the possibility of meeting stiffer resistance down there,” said Razsha. “I recommend holding our high-value assets in reserve and using signal runes to enable the search teams to call for help. Between my strike team and the students, we have some very heavy-hitters on hand. Shame to waste them wandering around in random tunnels.”

“I agree with that, as far as it goes,” said Adjavegh, “but all of these assets are magical, which brings us right back to the chaos problem.”

“Our anti-chaos assets include one mithril rapier and three paladins,” said Ariel. “Mithril will not interfere with chaos directly, but any misfired spells caused by it are still magical and can still be neutralized by the metal.”

“Who is that talking?” Adjavegh demanded, sitting bolt upright and glaring around.

“This is Ariel,” Gabriel explained, drawing the sword and holding it up. “She’s a…kind of magical assistant. A little difficult, but it’s wise to listen to her advice.”

Adjavegh’s glare deepened. “Boy, do you know how talking swords are made?”

“I didn’t make her,” Gabriel said flatly.

“If I might continue with information germane to the issue?” Ariel said pointedly. “Thank you. A paladin’s powers are also magical, but they flow directly from a deity, which is consciously aware of their use and can compensate for chaos-induced misfires. Paladins have been instrumental in sealing chaos rifts in previous encounters. The opposite is true for the two fairies; I strongly advise keeping them as far back as possible. If their inherent magic is disrupted they could be destroyed outright.”

Juniper made a small squeak.

“That applies to you, too, Ariel,” Ruda pointed out.

“Indeed. If Gabriel is going to face the rift directly, I don’t object to being carried by someone else for a brief period. Preferably not the dryad.”

“What does that mean?” Juniper demanded.

“I’m not certain whether that applies to Vadrieny’s demon form, or the opposite,” Ariel continued. “It is a spell effect, but it stems directly from a goddess. The nature of her connection to Elilial is uncertain, given the imperfect fusion of archdemon and human. She might be as impervious as the paladins or as vulnerable as the fairies.”

“We need to minimize variables like that in contact with the rift,” Adjavegh said firmly. “And since we’re dealing with an unavoidably porous perimeter, we’ll need to keep tactical assets topside, as well. Paladins will stand by to be called when the rift or other significant resistance is located. Major, your team and the rest of the adventurers will remain up here to deal with any undead or cultists that make it out of other tunnels. That’ll free up more of our personnel to sweep the catacombs.”

“That’s a good strategy, sir,” Razsha agreed, nodding.

“I’m glad you approve,” he said sardonically.

“What about Malivette?” Fross suggested. “I bet she’d help.”

“I want that vampire nowhere near a chaos rift!” Adjavegh exclaimed. “She’s a good enough citizen now, but there’s no telling what would happen if something messed up her curse. All right, people you have your orders. Keep this quiet until we’re ready to move; we don’t want to spook our quarry. Timms, get to the lodge and talk to the Master; the rest of you, be back here at eight hundred hours. We move first thing in the morning.”

“You really think you can set all this up in one night, Colonel?” Toby asked.

“Son,” said Adjavegh, “this is the Imperial Army. We do what we have to, and find out afterward that we could.”

 

McGraw waved as they approached, leaning on his staff. “There y’are! I wasn’t sure you’d get the message.”

“The whole damn town got the message,” Weaver growled. “As communications go, bright blue signal flares are somewhat less than subtle.”

“Wasn’t goin’ for subtle,” the old wizard said, peering around Weaver’s shoulder at the town in the near distance behind them. “You came alone? I expected some of those Army folks to respond, as well…”

“Lieutenant Taash came partway,” said Joe, “but once we saw it was you, she went back to the station. I think the soldiers are tryin’ not to get mixed up with elves. It’s probably political. Afternoon, ma’am,” he added, tipping his hat to Raea, who smiled in return. The two elves behind her exchanged glances, but said nothing.

“Well, ‘ere we all are, then,” Billie said cheerily. “What’s the good word, Elias?”

“Just been bringin’ our friends up to speed,” said McGraw. “They didn’t see anyone leave the town.”

“So he’s still in the town, then?” Weaver said, glancing over his shoulder. “Fuck a duck, he could be anywhere.”

“No, he left,” said Raea, folding her arms. “We just didn’t see him. Once Elias alerted me, I consulted a spirit companion, who picked up his trail, heading off toward Risk. It was definitely a shaman. Aside from the fact that he is clearly using a quick-travel blessing to boost his speed, no one else could have made it past us undetected.”

“What, shamans can go invisible?” Weaver exclaimed. “Since when?”

“I’m pretty sure the plural of ‘shaman’ is—”

“Shut up, Joe!”

“There are a number of techniques we can use to deflect attention,” Raea said. “I can penetrate most of them myself—if I know to be on the lookout. I’m afraid a shaman who does not wish to be detected usually isn’t, even by other elves, unless said elves are specifically trying. His trail, too, is concealed, but I saw through that easily enough once I knew what to look for. We do not operate from a standard catalog of spells, like wizards,” she added, glancing at McGraw. “Each shaman’s capabilities depend on their alliances, on what they have learned, their sources of power.”

“It’s definitely Vannae, then,” Joe mused, “not the Jackal.”

“Him we would have spotted,” snorted one of the other elves. Like the rest of Raea’s band, he had not bothered to introduce himself. So far, they appeared content to let Raea be the sole point of contact with the adventurers.

“As I understand it,” said Weaver, “not getting spotted is a big part of what he does.”

“Not getting spotted by the likes of you,” the elf said disdainfully. “The Jackal does not prey on his own kind, and not out of any respect for us.”

“You’re pretty confident, for a watchman who just got blazed past in his sleep.”

The elf turned to face Weaver directly, throwing back his shoulders. “Listen carefully, you snub-eared—”

“Friend, don’t,” Joe interrupted. “Just don’t. He’s an aggravating jerk and a lot less killable than he looks; reacting to him won’t do anything but drive up your blood pressure. Ignore him and move on.”

Weaver grinned unpleasantly at the elf, who glared right back.

“Do you boys need to go find a tree to piss against?” Raea asked dryly. The elf snorted, but turned back to the group, giving Weaver a cold shoulder. The bard looked about ready to burst out laughing, but fortunately didn’t.

“The immediate thing is figurin’ out what we’re gonna do,” said McGraw. “From a cursory look, it appears to me like Khadizroth an’ his crew are aimin’ to set up a long game of sniping back and forth at each other. That bein’ the case, it’s probably best to nip this in the bud.”

“I dunno, though,” said Billie. “That daft prick just attacked two Imperial installations. Seems t’me all we gotta do is sit back an’ let nature take its course—K an’ the rest of his cronies’ll be taken care of within the week.”

“That, if anything, increases the urgency of this matter,” Raea said quietly.

“I agree,” Joe said, nodding. “If the Empire descends on them in force…they’ll also get whatever progress they’ve made toward finding the skull. One of the very first things we established in this business is that the Empire does not need to have that skull. I’m inclined to agree with Khadizroth on one point: while it’s best to keep it out of Svenheim’s hands as well, better them than the Empire.”

“You’re cute when you’re treasonous,” Billie said, grinning. Joe flushed and ducked his head momentarily before regathering his composure.

“Treason is when you deliberately sabotage your government’s operations,” said Weaver. “Keeping something dangerous out of circulation and just incidentally out of the Silver Throne’s greedy hands is another matter—or so a good enough lawyer could argue, if it comes to that. Anyhow, the kid’s got the right of it this time. Anybody disagree?”

“Definitely not,” said McGraw. “The original plan stands. We get the skull, we give it to Tellwyrn.” The other elf snorted, but subsided at a glance from Raea.

“Then Khadizroth has substantially accelerated the timetable,” Raea said. “I cannot help but suspect that was his intention; he is too old and too wise to flail about blindly in a situation like this. You did say that Vannae works for him directly, not simply as another of the Archpope’s lackeys?”

“The nature of their relationship is over our heads,” McGraw replied, “but Vannae was with him before the Archpope got his hands on Khadizroth. An’ I concur with your reasoning, Raea. As I see it, his actions here make sense only in the presence of two other facts: Khadizroth thinks the skull is nearly in his hands, an’ he thinks he can take us in a straight-up fight.”

“How d’ye figure?” Billie asked, scratching behind one of her ears.

“Forcin’ us to move up our timetable might make sense if he wanted to knock us out of the game before goin’ back to lookin’ for the skull,” McGraw explained, “but the way he did it, tweakin’ the Empire’s nose like that, started the hourglass running for all of us. The Empire’s patience with all this hogwash just got a lot shorter; both our groups have in common that we need to have this done and that artifact taken off the table before Tiraan agents get fully involved. That means we gotta act now.”

“And that,” said Weaver, “means the dragon is confident of his chances in a straightforward fight against us, considering that he just provoked one.”

Billie sighed. “Shit. All right, then, what’re we lookin’ at? Khadizroth himself won’t be as dangerous as when we last faced ‘im, not with ‘is powers bound. But he’s still a feckin’ dragon, not somethin’ ta take lightly. An’ the Jackal’s gonna be a right pain in the arse any way ye slice it.”

“The Jackal has the advantage if he has room and time to maneuver,” said Joe. “We fare best against him by striking fast and hard; face to face, he likely isn’t a match for us. What puzzles me is this guy Shook.”

“Thieves’ Guild enforcer,” said McGraw. “What he’s doin’ with this group is doubtless a hell of a tale; the man’s capable of putting together and acting on a good strategy in a tense situation, but at the end of the day, he’s a thug with wands. He’s frankly out of his league with this group.”

“Our watchers have observed him interacting closely with the succubus,” said Raea. “I believe they are connected.”

“That…just raises more questions,” McGraw mused.

“The demon is a non-issue,” said Weaver. “Neither her stealth nor her shapeshifting will fool Yngrid; she so much as shows her face anywhere in the vicinity, she goes straight back to Hell. Considering her absence from the meeting, I suspect she’s aware of that.”

“Who?” Joe frowned. Weaver gave him a scathing look.

“His valkyrie, innit?” said Billie. “Anyhow, I’m inclined to agree. Either the demon’s under control, in which case they won’t waste an asset like that by lettin’ her near a reaper, or she’s not, in which case she’ll protect her own hide by buggin’ out.”

“So,” Raea mused. “The dragon, the shaman, the wandfighter, the assassin… And their dwarven allies. This will not be an easy engagement.”

“How soon should we move?” Joe asked. “They’re clearly baiting us to strike quickly…”

“I’m afraid it’s bait we’re better off takin’,” McGraw said grimly. “The more time they have to position themselves, the harder this’ll be.”

“We can be there by dawn,” said Raea. “The blessings I can lay on you all will enable you to make the distance that quickly, and arrive untired. And my people, of course, are already in shape to make the run and fight at the end of it.” She smiled at the elf who had nearly started an altercation with Weaver; he nodded grimly back.

“This’d be a really good time fer Mary ta come back from wherever she’s gallivanted off to,” Billie sighed.

“Darling knows to send her our way if she turns up back in Tiraas,” said McGraw. “No point wastin’ effort on wishful thinkin’. We’d best get our butts on the move.”

“I can’t shake the feeling this is a mistake,” Joe muttered.

“It may well be,” Raea agreed solemnly. “We are certainly being manipulated. But there are some mistakes, Joseph, that simply must be made—and if you must do a thing, it is best to do it quickly.”

“Well, that’s a hell of a pep talk,” Weaver snorted. “I like the classic line better: let’s go kick some ass.”

 

“Ah, there you are!”

Bishop Shahai intercepted the squad as they were trooping back toward their cabin. They halted and turned to her, saluting.

“Ma’am,” said Principia. “Everything all right?”

“You look…rather tired,” Shahai observed, coming to a stop and studying them. Indeed, all five of them were sweaty and somewhat disheveled. “I trust the facilities I arranged were satisfactory?”

“Quite so, your Grace,” said Princpia. “And thank you again for doing it. I’m impressed how quickly you managed that.”

“Getting things done is simple enough in a well-run organization,” Shahai said with a smile. “How did your…practice go?”

“I think we’ll have something impressive to show the High Commander very soon,” Principia said slowly. “Excuse me, ma’am, but all of us could use a turn in the baths. Did you need us for something?”

“I’ll keep it brief,” the Bishop said, her smile fading. “You had a visitor while you were below, Locke.”

“Why does Locke get all the visitors?” Merry muttered.

“Considering the kind of people who come looking for her, I’m content being less popular,” Farah replied.

“Hush,” Ephanie said curtly. “Sorry, your Grace.”

Shahai smiled at her and continued. “Our friend Saduko came around—through the front door, this time—asking to speak with you. She seemed pressed for time; at any rate, when told you were busy and unavailable, she was willing to convey her message to me.”

“Message?” Principia narrowed her eyes.

“Saduko hinted as heavily as she could without saying it outright that she was giving this information without Zanzayed’s orders and possibly against his wishes,” Shahai said. “It was a tip. There is a meeting of this anti-dragon society taking place tomorrow morning. The Conclave is aware of it, but not able to move against them for obvious political reasons.”

“Yes, them laying one scaly finger on Imperial citizens in Tiraas would pretty much explode their talks with the Throne,” Principia murmured. “Well, this is all astonishingly convenient, isn’t it?”

“Indeed,” Shahai said gravely. “The High Commander hasn’t been able to see me since I finished talking with Saduko—which has been only a few minutes—but I do have authority in this matter, and I believe this is an appropriate time to send your squad out. You will interrupt the meeting in question and attempt to apprehend some or all of the activists.”

“What happened to using us as bait, ma’am?” Principia asked.

“This is a variant on the same plan, Locke. When we last spoke, we hadn’t so much as a hint of when or where we might find these people gathered. Now…”

“Excuse me, your Grace,” said Casey, “but…with all due respect…this could not more obviously be a trap.”

“Well, that is an interesting consideration,” Shahai said, nodding. “Locke, Saduko strongly implied her motives were pursuant to your shared membership in the Thieves’ Guild, and her personal feeling that she owed you some help for the trouble she has caused you. Any thoughts on that?”

“It’s…plausible,” Principia said slowly. “Saduko hasn’t done anything harmful to me, exactly; if she did, she’d be in big trouble with the Guild. Eserites are encouraged to con and prank each other, but there are limits. You don’t get a fellow Guild member into trouble with outside forces. Still, that’s a slender thread to hang all this on.”

“Quite so,” Shahai agreed. “Saduko is a woman of complex and perhaps contradictory loyalties, from what we have learned from Bishop Darling, and whatever attachment she claims toward you, the Sisterhood is an organization toward which her fondness must be at its thinnest. It would be a critical mistake, I think, to take her at face value. As such, I’m going to try to make this a joint operation with the Guild.”

Merry began grinding her teeth.

“By…tomorrow morning, ma’am?” Ephanie asked hesitantly. “Is that…feasible?”

“That’s the question, is it not?” Shahai replied briskly. “I need to head to the Cathedral and try to locate Darling; if he’s not there, it may be challenging to track him down. I understand he likes to remain highly mobile in the city. Considering the timetable, if Darling is not at the Cathedral I will likely proceed directly to the Imperial Casino and try to get an audience with Boss Tricks.”

Casey let out a low whistle.

“Don’t eat or drink anything they give you,” Principia advised. “They won’t hurt you, but embarrassing you would be another matter.”

“I have dealt with Eserites before, Locke,” Shahai said dryly. “In any case, I came to bring you into the loop; now, you’ll be wanting your baths, and I have an errand to see to, myself. I’ll speak with you again tonight with more detailed orders.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Principia said, saluting again. The rest of her squad followed suit.

The Bishop nodded deeply to them. “Be wary, ladies. All of this, as I’ve said before, is developing far too fast. Populist movements simply do not assemble so quickly, much less organize themselves as effectively as this one has. I strongly suspect these activists are being manipulated by an outside force—one which may be more willing than the average citizen to harm Legionnaires. You are the bait in this trap, but if I cannot gain the aid of the Guild, the operation is off. I’m not sending you into this alone, not when we know so little. I’ll speak with you again soon.”

She turned and glided away toward the front of the complex, leaving Squad One staring worriedly after her.

“Sarge?” Farah asked hesitantly.

“Inside,” Principia said curtly, turning and leading the way into their cabin.

Once they were all in and Principia had shut the door and double-checked the charms she had placed on every window, she turned to them with a grim expression.

“I’ll be blunt, girls: Nandi Shahai is probably my favorite of the people we’ve had in charge of us since coming here. She reminds me a lot of myself, and that is what warns me not to trust her absolutely.”

“You think the Bishop has it in for us?” Casey exclaimed.

“Not that one, no,” Principia replied, shaking her head. “In fact, I think she’s willing to have our backs, to a great extent. However, I also think she has different ideas than we about what constitute acceptable losses. If it comes down to the mission or us, we may very well find ourselves the more expendable side of that equation. We’ll follow our orders, and her lead…but with every ace we can cram up our sleeves. Shahai is right that all this makes no sense. Everyone is lying to everyone else, and we’re the ones putting our necks on the line. When we assemble tomorrow for the mission, I want you in the new equipment I provided.”

“What?” Merry exclaimed. “We just started practicing with that! We’ve had one set of drills, for barely an hour!”

“And we will do our best not to be in a position where we need to use any of it,” Principia said firmly, “but let’s be honest: that’s out of our hands, and always was. It’s like the Bishop said: every step of this is coming too fast. Everything that’s happened has been way ahead of any reasonable kind of schedule. The fact that tomorrow’s events should not escalate into something truly dangerous at this stage of the game is what makes me suspect they may.”

“Bloody hell,” Merry spat.

“Well said,” Principia said dryly.

“Are we ready for this, Locke?” Ephanie asked quietly.

“We’re going to be as ready as we possibly can,” Prin replied. “For anything. All right; everyone gear off and head toward the baths. I want you to get as much rest as you can tonight. Tomorrow is gonna be…interesting.”

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“Catacombs, huh,” Toby mused, absently tapping his fork against his plate. The morning’s cloud cover had been pushed away by wind and sun, and it was bright and pleasantly warm on the pub terrace overlooking the square. The general mood at the table did not reflect this. “Well, I suppose that explains a few things. If there’s some core of chaos cult activity, that accounts of how these smaller cults keep popping up and getting busted, and why they all have the same consistent pattern.”

“And how they’ve been keeping their heads down, literally,” Ruda added, “though the question remains why the Empire hasn’t caught ’em yet. I dunno how familiar they are with the catacombs, but they can’t be unaware of it. It defies reason to think the Imps missed something so obvious.”

“They’re the ones who just got their central base raided,” Juniper pointed out.

“Yes,” Trissiny agreed, “which is just another of the things about this situation which don’t add up. The local Imperial forces are seriously underperforming against this threat, which means they are either hamstrung in ways that have been hidden from us…”

“Or the enemy is a lot more competent than they’ve let on,” Fross finished.

“Exactly,” Trissiny said, nodding.

They fell quiet, all frowning at their food. Around them came the babble of conversation from the busy pub, but at the students’ table there was only the rhythmic tapping of metal against crockery.

Gabriel reached across and placed his hand on Toby’s fork.

“Uh, sorry,” Toby said with a grimace, putting it down.

“Well, that was our morning,” Ruda said, leaning back in her chair and folding her hands behind her head. “How ’bout you guys? Anything turn up?”

“I can’t say we had a very productive time,” Toby admitted. “We tried hard with those guys, but…” He trailed off, glancing at Juniper.

“They were just broken,” she said. “In the head. I mean, the Imperial guards said they were all crazy, but I’ve noticed when humans say that about someone it usually means they haven’t tried to understand them, but… This time, no. They were crazy. Not one of them could hold a coherent train of thought.”

“That’s a fairly common result of looking too hard at the things that live where chaos comes from,” Trissiny murmured. “It can occur simply from prolonged exposure to chaos energies, but… It’s more likely we’re dealing with some kind of rift, anyway. Hm, how many were there?”

“Seven in the jail,” Fross reported. “We talked to all of them. Well, tried to talk to them. I mostly just ended up feeling sad for them. The warden said there had been four others who died in custody. He didn’t know how many other cultists there may have been originally.”

“Well, sounds like you thought to ask,” Ruda said approvingly.

“It could be important!” Fross chimed. “The less information you have, the more you should try to obtain.”

“Have you heard anything from…you know?” Gabriel asked Teal.

She grimaced. “Not a word. And I have to admit I’m a little glad about it, no matter how much we need the information.”

“Good,” said Trissiny.

“The morning was not unproductive, however,” said Shaeine. “We’ve made arrangements for Scorn to have a proper wardrobe. Perhaps not a large one, but there are limits to what a tailor can produce on short order, and anyway, she does not appear much troubled by vanity.”

“I think she’ll be happy enough not to go around dressed in curtains,” Teal added with a small smile. “It was almost a bust, though. The tailor thought we were playing some kind of prank at first.”

“Why,” Ruda asked lazily, “because you’re a girl dressed like a boy and a drow placing a rush order for clothes for a seven-foot-tall woman built like an ox?”

“It was altogether less troublesome than getting Scorn’s measurements,” Shaeine said serenely. “In any case, the craftswoman we employed was admirably professional after being shown bank notes drawn on the Imperial treasury under the name Falconer.”

“So we’re the only ones who didn’t get anything actually done, then?” Juniper sighed.

“You ruled out a possibility,” said Shaeine. “Disappointing as it may have seemed, that is a vital step.”

“Are you not planning to eat that?” Gabriel asked Ruda, pointing at her mostly untouched plate.

“I had a little snack earlier, as you may recall. Help yourself.”

“Awesome.” Grinning, he pulled it over and tucked in. “You know what, I really like the local food. Does Malivette feed you guys as well as this?”

“It’s a little fancier,” said Trissiny. “Pearl is quite the chef. I think she enjoys having a full house to cook for.”

“And it’s always good to make our hostesses happy,” Juniper said pointedly, “since I don’t think Sapphire is going to forgive you for yesterday, Triss.”

“Um, excuse me?”

They all turned to regard the waitress, who was standing a few feet distant, visibly nervous. She gingerly held out a small roll of parchment, bound by a twist of black twine. “This was delivered for, um, the young lady with short hair.”

“Heh,” Ruda chuckled. “They could’ve just said to take it to the weirdo table and you’d know just where to go, right?”

The girl’s cheeks colored deeply. “I, um… Here you go.” Ducking forward, she set the parchment on the edge of their table, shoulders hunched as if she expected to be struck. “Enjoy your lunch.”

They watched in silence as the waitress scurried off back into the pub. People at other tables were staring, now, averting their gazes only when the students met them.

“Good work, Princess Social Skills,” said Gabriel.

“Gimme that.” Ruda yanked her plate back. “I’m hungry now.”

“Have they lost their minds?” Teal breathed, picking up the roll of parchment. The black twine which bound it had been woven with tiny strands of some kind of dried vine, making an unmistakeable wreath. “I thought these people were supposed to be subtle.”

“What do they have to say?” Toby asked.

Teal slipped the tiny wreath off, crushed it in her fist and stuffed it in her coat pocket. She unrolled the parchment and frowned. “Flower stall, one o’clock. Well, that’s…terse.”

“The less said to and by them, the better,” Trissiny grunted.

“One o’clock.” Teal produced a watch from an inner coat pocket, winced, and started to rise. “Whoof… Assuming they mean the flower stall over by Malivette’s warehouse, we just have time to get there—”

“You sit your butt back down, Falconer,” Ruda ordered. “Finish your lunch. They can wait.”

“You do know who we’re talking about, right?” Gabriel demanded. “Maybe we don’t wanna get pushy with them.”

“That is exactly what we wanna do,” Ruda said firmly. “You remember what that imp said, Teal? These people are obligated to look after Vadrieny, and therefore you, for religious reasons, and at least some of ’em aren’t happy about it. Undoubtedly others will be trying to see if they can work Vadrieny into whatever plans they’ve got. Well, the ideal thing would be to have no contact with them at all—”

“These are expert manipulators,” Trissiny agreed sharply. “The only way to win at their games is not to play.”

“Excuse me, Triss, I must’ve been trying to talk while you were interrupting.” Ruda gave her roommate a baleful look before returning her attention to Teal. “It’s about managing expectations. As far as we want these fuckers to think, we’re the spoiled, buffoonish princess and her weirdo friends who they have to accommodate now and again. Being a little difficult is exactly the approach we want to take.”

“I think there’s good logic in that,” Toby said. “I don’t generally make plans with an eye toward manipulating or inconveniencing people, but with that caveat this makes sense to me.”

“I tentatively agree,” Shaeine said slowly. “If we cannot avoid interacting with these…individuals, making ourselves uninteresting and disagreeable might be our best fallback position.”

“Okay, but we’re still talking about the Bla—” Gabriel broke off, glancing around the terrace; no one was nearby, or seemed to be trying to listen in, but he lowered his voice anyway. “I’m stuck on the point where trying to play mind games with them of all people seems like a fantastically bad idea.”

“This isn’t mind games, Arquin,” Ruda snorted. “Believe me, I’ll show you mind games sometime, just so you’ll know the difference. Finish your lunch, everybody. No rush.”

 

Despite Ruda’s insistence, no one except Juniper had much of an appetite after that, and the dryad was self-conscious about eating while everyone else sat around and watched. They made their way out fairly shortly following the delivery of the note, and found their way back to the alley behind the warehouse, arriving at the flower stand a little less than half past one.

The eight of them were apparently more excitement than that sleepy little street was accustomed to seeing, to judge by the way everyone stopped in their business to stare. The students ignored them, following Teal straight to the stand against the back wall of the warehouse, where stood the same person as before.

“My, you do travel in style,” Vanessa said mildly, not pausing in her work. She was busily wrapping bouquets of flowers together with lengths of ribbon. In fact, her cover was either an actual hobby of hers or she took it very seriously, to judge by the artfully arranged bunches she had already bound together and hung. “A whole party! I suppose I should feel honored.”

“I will say this once,” Trissiny snapped, stomping up to the front of the group. “At the first hint that you intend—”

“At the first hint that you intend anything remotely rough, including finishing that threat, I will be gone before you can snap off a prayer,” Vanessa said with a wintery little smile. “I have no time for games and no intention of getting into any manner of scrap with you, Trissiny. Is this how you treat everyone to whom you come for help?” She transferred her gaze past the paladin, frowning at Gabriel. “Young man, you look like you’ve just found your long-lost sister or something. Which, for the record, you have not, I assure you.”

He closed his mouth and gulped, but didn’t diminish the wideness of his eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean… It’s just that… Well, you look an awful lot like…uh, someone I know. Knew. Used to know.”

Toby was frowning at the woman, too; at this exchange, Trissiny narrowed her own eyes, taking a more deliberate look at the warlock.

“Okay,” said Vanessa, nonplussed. “So, Miss Falconer, I take it all these people have your confidence, and we can speak freely?”

“Absolutely. Ah, that is, with regard to them.” Teal glanced pointedly up and down the street. “Should we maybe go someplace a little more private to have this conversation? There’s a way into the warehouse here…”

“Young lady, you really should learn to pay more attention,” Vanessa said with a smile. “Do you not notice the sudden lack of interest everyone seems to have in us? Do you recall anyone raising an outcry yesterday when I shadow-jumped right out from under your nose? No one will notice us until I see fit to be noticed. And no, Trissiny, before that look on your face blossoms into commentary, none of them are harmed, or being touched in the slightest by infernal magic. In fact, your staring Vidian friend here undoubtedly knows the trick and can explain it.”

“With regard to our inquiries, then?” Shaeine prompted.

“Ah, yes. That.” Vanessa tilted her head. “I suspect I know the answer, but how did you manage to get a Rhaazke up here? Are you positive that’s what you have?”

“We’re sure,” Teal said firmly. “And we didn’t get her here. We rescued her from Leduc Manor.”

Vanessa sighed heavily and rolled her eyes. “Leduc. Right. This wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had the impression someone ought to finish wiping out that family. But getting into Hell and opening yet another dimensional portal would seem to be well above little Sherwin’s capabilities…”

“He didn’t,” said Teal. “He summoned her directly here. Apparently he was trying to get a succubus, and ran afoul of a chaos effect.”

“Mm. Chaos. Yes, that’s about the only thing that could explain it.” Vanessa narrowed her eyes. “So Leduc deliberately tried to summon a child of Vanislaas?”

“We lay about fifty-fifty odds he’ll try again,” Ruda said, leering.

“No, he will not,” the warlock said firmly. “The Wreath will not have those creatures running around the mortal plane. Thank you for bringing this to my attention, children. We’ll deal with Leduc.”

“Enough!” Trissiny exclaimed. “We didn’t come here to give you information. What can you do about the Rhaazke?”

Vanessa sighed. “Sending her home would mean, first, traveling through a hellgate. I’m afraid no one in the Wreath will or can help you there. Apart from the minor matter that doing so is straightforward suicide, it is explicitly forbidden by the Black Lady herself.” She shrugged apologetically at Teal. “You of all people can perhaps arrange an exception, if you were to ask her. But she’s the only one who can help you with that, now.”

“You’re refusing to help?” Juniper said. “I thought you had to help Vadrieny.”

“In any way we can,” Vanessa replied. “What you’re asking is, as I said, prohibited, and for excellent reason. Traffic between the planes in general is disallowed. The Wreath only keep demons we have caught here, and only those which prove amenable to control; we don’t summon our own familiars from Hell. The reverse is true: we don’t go into Hell, nor allow anyone else to if we can prevent it.”

“How come?” Fross asked.

“That dimension has extremely scarce natural resources,” Vanessa said, continuing to bunch flowers. “Very little metal of any kind, and even the stone is…well, it’s not exactly stone as we’d recognize it. There’s some megafauna, which provide the only building and crafting materials that are widely available. We don’t want people going into Hell because we don’t want them taking stuff with them. Just the clothes on your backs would be worth a fortune down there—that would’ve been true five hundred years ago, but with enchantments as common as they are now, every item you bring down there is conferring a vast advantage on someone. And nobody in the infernal realms needs any advantages. The Lady is taxed keeping them under control as it is.”

“Oh, that’s just fuckin’ silly,” Ruda snorted. “How much damage could one person’s effects do to an entire dimension?”

“You do realize it is possible, in theory, to travel to the divine plane from here?” Vanessa said, raising an eyebrow. “The gods try to prohibit that for exactly the same reason. You, paladin.” She wagged a bouquet at Trissiny. “You have an un-killable horse which doesn’t need food or sleep and will come to you at a moment’s thought, anywhere you might happen to be. A sword, shield and armor that will stand up to virtually any power, and which you can also summon across the entire world if you chose. All of those things originate from the divine plane. Do you honestly believe it’s never occurred to anyone to try to get there and acquire more stuff like that?”

She let that sink in for a moment before continuing. “The gods very carefully restrict access. That is one of the reasons they don’t let departed souls communicate back down here if they can prevent it. The same reason we don’t let demons get their claws on the kinds of things we have. Knowing such things exist is one thing; seeing them can provide inspiration to challenge the barriers that keep them from you. No, the Wreath doesn’t go through hellgates, nor allow anyone else to. Even the Empire doesn’t do that, except to send in strike teams and close one. All policies by everyone remotely sane with regard to Hell center on keeping it as isolated as possible. Even if we were willing to make an exception like this, none of the mortal Wreath have the authority.” She shook her head. “Ask Elilial, if you truly wish. That’s all you can do.”

“So…we’re stuck with this creature?” Trissiny exclaimed.

“It could be a lot worse, as you know very well,” Vanessa said dryly. “A Rhaazke is just about the only sentient demon we wouldn’t consider a crisis just for being in this realm. She’s as mentally stable as anyone, and in fact can handle infernal magic without being an automatic hazard to herself or her environs. Teach her the language and the customs, try to keep her out of trouble. I should think several of you could relate to a fish so dramatically out of water.”

“But…what about her family?” Fross asked in a small voice. “They must be so worried…”

Vanessa pursed her lips. “What’s her name?”

Teal rolled her jaw once before replying very carefully. “Schkhurrankh.”

“Schkhurrankh.” Vanessa mouthed the name once more after speaking it. “I will pass that along to our high priest, who can request a message be sent. If the plea comes from Vadrieny, I’m certain Elilial will arrange it. We can let Schkhurrankh’s family know she is all right, and open the question of sending her back home.”

“Thank you,” Teal said feelingly.

Vanessa smiled and made a little half-bow from her seat. “I am pleased to be of service.”

“That’s one thing addressed,” Trissiny said shortly. “What do you know about the attack on the Imperial barracks?”

“Ah, yes. That.” Vanessa shook her head. “I am instructed, against all established policy, personal experience and instinct, to be forthcoming with you about that. Yes, the Black Wreath did move on the barracks to secure those experimental weapons.”

“You injured and very nearly killed a lot of good people for that,” Trissiny growled. “Give the weapons back.”

Vanessa smiled coldly. “We don’t have them.”

“I do not have the patience for—”

“That being the case, kindly let me get a word in edgewise and this will all go much faster.” Vanessa raised an eyebrow archly, shifting on her stool. “I was not personally involved in this, but I’ve been brought up to speed. Running around in carefully-timed adventures isn’t really my thing these days.” She patted her hip. “I understand, however, that the planned robbery was basically a work of art. Weeks of observation and strategy, multiple agents committed, the whole thing carefully designed to create a perfect sequence of distractions and disruptions in the base’s security so our people could grab the weapons and get out, leaving no trace and nobody so much as disheveled.”

“Sounds like you fucked up,” Ruda observed.

“Yes,” Vanessa said with an annoyed grimace. “Because the second we launched our initial distractions, someone else hit the place. Very, very hard. The Wreath’s opening move was calculated to draw away the personnel who would ordinarily respond to an emergency and neutralize the equipment available to those remaining, so when some louse firebombed the infirmary, the soldiers were at a much more severe disadvantage than they would ordinarily have been.” She sighed. “In the ensuing chaos, the Wreath aborted and withdrew. Whoever tried to blow the place up ended up getting the prototypes.”

“Who?” Teal demanded.

“It seems,” Vanessa replied, “there are chaos cultists active in this city. They are the only agents we have identified who even could be responsible, of the interested parties at work in Veilgrad. Malivette has no motive to do this and can’t risk antagonizing the Empire. Likewise for the Huntsmen. The Shadow Hunters and the local Thieves’ Guild lack the capacity. Justinian’s Church would definitely not hesitate to injure troops and steal from the Empire, but the Church has been slowly abandoning Veilgrad over the last several months; I assure you we have investigated that carefully, and the very few remaining agents he has in the city are simple priests, not operatives.” She tapped her just-finished bouquet against the stall’s counter in irritation. “So, we don’t yet know who perpetrated that debacle, but our standing assumption is that chaos-worshiping fools were behind it. They have apparently been a persistent nuisance in Veilgrad recently.”

“In fact,” Teal said slowly, “we just met one.”

“Specifically,” Ariel added, “we met one in the company of a very large, very potent necromantic construct which had to have been the result of considerable labor and resources. The only thing he could think to do with such an important asset was to hurl it at two paladins, who dispatched it effortlessly. These are not long-term planners, or strategists of any kind. Chaos devotees never are; their religious practices have a deleterious effect on higher brain functions.”

“Ariel’s right,” Trissiny said. “Pitting those cretins against the Empire would be a joke. It’s far more likely that you’re simply lying to us.”

“Yes, I’m certain it seems that way to you,” Vanessa said sardonically. “Never mind the damage that would do to the relationship we are trying to cultivate with Vadrieny.” She pointedly turned away from Trissiny, addressing herself to Teal. “We need not pretend that we are all friends, or that we want all the same things over the long term. Right now, though, you can add the Black Wreath to the list of everyone else who wants what you want: to cut down whoever is doing all this to Veilgrad. Our strength is your strength, lady.”

“I think we’d better head over to the barracks,” said Toby. “If nothing else, we know a little more, now. Colonel Adjavegh should be told about this—all of it. The cultists in the catacombs, the involvement of the Wreath.”

“Whoah, there,” said Ruda. “We’ve got sources to protect, remember? Adjavegh doesn’t know we know about his experimental weapons.”

“Well, here’s our explanation right here,” said Gabriel, jerking his head toward Vanessa. “As far as he needs to know, we just learned about it from her.”

“Let us not discuss plans in front of the warlock,” Trissiny exclaimed.

“You seem to be moving on in your campaign,” Vanessa said calmly. “Shall I take this to mean you have no further questions for me at this time?”

“For now, no,” said Teal. “If I think of anything…”

“You have only to ask.”

“Okay, I have to know,” Gabriel said hesitantly. “Miss…uh, Ms., ma’am… Do you know someone named Madeleine? A relative, maybe?”

“Young man,” Vanessa said calmly, “I am disinclined to spark hostilities with paladins under any circumstances, and as Vadrieny’s friend you are entitled to a measure of respect from me. But if you go prying into my personal life, I will not hesitate to hex you. Any lady would.”

“That’s all right, forget it,” Toby said hastily before Gabriel could reply. “Thank you, Vanessa, for the information.”

“Of course,” the warlock said with a languid smile, still bunching and sorting her flowers. “I am only pleased to help in any way I can.”

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“Well, it’s mostly good, right?” Juniper said brightly. “I mean, honestly I don’t expect a lot to come of talking with the cultists, especially if they’re already in prison. If they knew anything useful, the Empire surely woulda had it out of ’em long before now. But it sounds like we’ve got sources of help!”

“None of that is help we need!” Trissiny said stridently. An expression of alarm had descended upon her features as Teal and Shaeine described their odd encounter on the street outside, and not diminished since. “Dragging Eserites into anything invariably leads to more trouble, and accepting help from the Black Wreath is so totally out of the question I can’t believe I even have to say it!”

“It’s funny to me how you assume you have to say it,” Ruda remarked idly from the stairs.

“You don’t,” Teal assured Trissiny. “I know, Triss. Believe me, I know. This is one of the lectures I got most often from the Church. I understand how the Wreath operates. It’d start with one small, very reasonable favor, and escalate wildly from there. The only way to win with them is not to engage them at all. Never let them work so much as a fingernail into a crack.”

Trissiny drew in a breath and let it out slowly. “Right. Yes, you’re right. Sorry, Teal, I should’ve considered you would know all this. The subject just makes me edgy.”

“Rightly so,” Toby said, wearing a concerned frown.

“What worries me,” Trissiny continued, “is that the Wreath are totally without scruples. We’ve got enough trouble in Veilgrad already, and I can easily imagine them making more if they have a presence here.”

“They operate magically, though,” Gabriel said. “If chaos is the problem, that puts them under the same disadvantage as everyone else.”

“Wrong and wrong!” Trissiny snapped. “The chaos isn’t everywhere; all of us have used magic since coming here without having it misfire.” Ruda cleared her throat loudly. “Sorry, most of us.”

“Yeah!” Fross chimed. “If I fall out of the air or suddenly stop existing, guys, that’s a warning sign.”

“More to the point,” Trissiny barreled on, “the Black Wreath are not dangerous because they’re warlocks—or not chiefly. As warlocks go, they are usually more in control and less likely to cause messy splash effects than random self-taught practitioners. They are dangerous because they are crafty, insidious and very skilled at manipulation and…and…con artistry.”

“And we’re back to the Eserites,” Ruda said, grinning.

“Trissiny, we know,” Teal said gently.

“What worries me,” the paladin said, “is that if the Wreath can’t tempt you to reach out to them…they are very capable of creating a need. Causing a problem that’ll make their particular brand of help look especially attractive, possibly even necessary.”

“We’ll have to be watchful, then,” said Shaeine. “What else can we do? I concur, Trissiny, that it is necessary to be alert and aware of the danger they represent, but dwelling on them excessively poses its own hazards.”

“Well,” Ruda said cheerfully, “as the group’s acknowledged expert on both evil and pomposity, Boots pretty much can’t not give a lecture when the Wreath is about!”

“Your commentary is helpful as always, Princess.”

“Y’know, sword,” Ruda retorted, “coming from anyone else, that would be slightly rude. From you? Comedy gold. A real visit from the irony fairy.”

“Excuse me, but those are a myth,” said Fross.

“Okaaaay,” Juniper said pointedly. “Wreath bad. Point made, and made again. But…what about that Eserite corporal? Are you sure she was an Eserite?”

“It’s not as if she came out and said it,” Toby replied, “but she did that coin thing they do and quoted the first and most famous line of the Eserite catechism. I’m pretty sure she’s Guild.”

“Coin thing?” Shaeine tilted her head inquisitively.

“Rolling a coin across the backs of the fingers,” Toby said, holding up his own hand, fingers a-waggle to demonstrate. “It’s… Well, it’s not something official, and it’s not like they punish other people for doing coin tricks, but that particular one is something they often use to signal their affiliation.”

“Huh,” Gabriel mused. “Sounds like that’d be easy enough to fake.”

Ruda snorted, not looking at them. For far from the first time during that conversation, she was peering through a crack in the wall near the ceiling of the dim basement, which afforded a narrow view of the warehouse floor up ahead. Faint sounds of commerce filtered into the basement from above, hopefully enough to mask their conversation. Malivette had assured them, anyhow, that everyone working in that warehouse knew better than to hear anything happening in the basement. “Pretending to be in the Thieves’ Guild is an excellent way for dumbasses to lose the use of their fingers.”

“I’ll repeat my inherent distrust of Eserites,” Trissiny said, frowning, “but in all fairness…this is a somewhat different matter. For one thing, what we dealt with in Tiraas last winter was very unusual; the Guild doesn’t generally operate in any concerted fashion. Eserites don’t like organizations, and only tolerate them out of necessity. One thief hinting she might want to help us is more likely to be just that, not a sign that the Guild itself is involved.”

“Even so, it’s weird,” said Gabriel. “I mean, a thief in the Army?”

“Weird, yes,” Toby agreed, “but not impossible. Eserites are allowed in the Army.”

“I can’t imagine why,” Juniper commented.

“The Thieves’ Guild is the cult of a Pantheon god,” Toby replied. “You can’t just ban them. No smart organization would try to prohibit their membership, either. That’s exactly the kind of thing that would make them take an unhealthy interest. What’s odd is that one would become a soldier. The whole… I mean, army life is pretty much the opposite of what Eserites are all about.”

“Yeah,” Gabriel agreed, nodding. “I don’t know whether to be impressed or puzzled that the Colonel picked the local Eserite for his personal aide.”

Still staring out the crack, Ruda snorted again. “Cute how you assume he knows.”

“Besides,” Trissiny added, “her obvious motivation for joining the Army is to keep an eye on it, or someone in it. Either on general principles or because she wants access to something in particular. Remember our dealings with the guards in Lor’naris, how the quartermaster said their paperwork was a mess? Armies tend to get like that, no matter how well-organized they try to be. Someone in the right position could acquire all kinds of stuff; military gear must be a very lucrative slice of the black market. All of which brings us back to the original point: Corporal Timms is not a danger even close to the Black Wreath, and even may possibly be useful if she wants to, but we need to think very carefully before asking for her help. There will be a price.”

“That by itself shouldn’t be an argument against it,” Ruda murmured. “Nothing doesn’t have a price.”

“What is so fascinating out there?” Gabriel demanded.

The pirate shrugged, finally turning away from the crack and shuffling around on the staircase to face them directly. “Some interesting goings-on in the warehouse. Maybe…well, I’ll check back on that later. For now, it occurs to me all this recapping was premature. I am still waiting to hear about Shiny Boots and her nighttime adventures.”

“Excuse me, her what?” Gabriel turned to Trissiny, raising his eyebrows.

“Ah, yes,” she said briskly. “Well. I went outside the Manor grounds last night—”

“Wait,” Toby interjected, frowning. “Alone?”

“Yes, alone,” she said testily. “Anyway—”

“Trissiny!”

“I know!” she exclaimed. “I’m sorry, it was—look, never mind that. The point is, I met the Shadow Hunters and learned some interesting things.”

“Interesting how?” Shaeine asked quietly.

“Interesting,” Trissiny said slowly, “in a general sense. They’re actually a fascinating group, and a lot more personable than people have implied to us. Also potentially useful to our immediate purposes here. They, at least, are specifically inclined to be helpful, and might be in a position to do so, depending on what develops.”

“There, see?” Juniper said in satisfaction. “I told you we’d found help!”

“You didn’t even know about this when you said so,” Ariel pointed out.

“I have intuition,” the dryad said haughtily.

“You seem downright positive about these guys, Triss,” said Ruda. “Gotta say, that’s startling. I always thought you were allergic to Shaathists.”

“Well, that’s the thing,” Trissiny replied. “They aren’t Shaathists. The way Raichlin—the one who I mostly talked to—explained it, they predate modern Shaathism. Actually… Well, we didn’t discuss it in a lot of detail, but he strongly implied that Shaathism has changed a lot in the last thousand years. At least, he did say the Huntsmen were a lot closer to what they’re like before the Imperial era.”

“You mean, closer to what the Shadow Hunters are like?” Fross asked. “The grammar there was dicey.”

“Yes, sorry.” Trissiny paused, frowning thoughtfully. “The Hunters…seemed to me like a peculiar fusion of sensibilities. Shaathist, Nemitite, Eserite, with a little bit of Omnist.”

“That is an odd-sounding mix,” Toby said, raising his eyebrows.

“Well, they’re hunters and survivalists, like the Huntsmen of Shaath,” Trissiny explained. “But they also collect and preserve knowledge, mostly about the natural world. They have a huge library, it takes up half their lodge, and most of their books are on natural history, though there’s a lot of other stuff.”

“I think I’d like to see that,” said Juniper, straightening up.

“I bet they’d be glad to have you,” Trissiny said with a smile. “They also had strong opinions about freedom from organized systems, but were pretty committed to respecting life and avoiding needless conflict.”

“So, how’s that fit with them agitating the Huntsmen in town?” Ruda asked.

“Bear in mind I haven’t seen any of those interactions any more than you have,” said Trissiny, “but the way the Shadow Hunters tell it, they’ve just come into Veilgrad like they always have, trading and recruiting, and the Huntsmen have been starting trouble with them lately. Raichlin thought the Huntsmen are being affected by whatever’s causing trouble in the city.”

“They recruit from among the populace?” Shaeine asked.

“Apparently so. It’s not an insular community. Oh, and they’ve got these eagles!” Trissiny’s voice accelerated in excitement. “It was the middle of the night, so they didn’t take me into their eyrie and wake the birds up, but they use eagles instead of dogs as hunting companions, and I got to see one. Raichlin’s personal pet slept in his room, and it was amazing! The most beautiful creature—gold and brown, and it was huge. Much bigger than…than a gnome, for example I bet a gnome could ride one!”

“Two crests on its head?” Juniper asked, holding her hands next to her own head with forefingers extended. “Like little ears?”

“Exactly!”

The dryad lowered her hands, nodding. “Greater golden harpy eagles, native to the mountains here. They are pretty awesome birds. Very smart, disproportionately large talons—almost the size of Vadrieny’s. They’re known to hunt mountain goats.”

“Greater golden harpy eagles?” Ruda snorted. “That is too many names for one bird. Who comes up with this shit? I bet you could cut out half of that and not confuse them with anything else.”

“Well, actually,” Juniper said reasonably, “there are three subspecies of golden harpy eagles, though only the one on this continent. And those aren’t to be confused with tropical harpy eagles that live in the jungles of—”

“Holy shit, these things can carry off a goat?” Gabriel interrupted.

“Well, not carry it,” Juniper clarified. “They knock them off the mountains and then eat them where they fall. Those are pretty much as big as raptors get without having metabolism trouble. Well, mundane raptors. Plains rocs are bigger, of course, but those are fae-touched. Oh!” She peered at Trissiny’s breastplate. “Those little tufts, like ears! Those are the eagles on Avei’s sigil. I never put that together before!”

“Yeah,” Trissiny said, her expression growing thoughtful. “The Shadow Hunters know more about the history of the Sisterhood than I expected. Some things I didn’t know, even. Raichlin gave me a book…”

“I don’t wanna sound like this isn’t interesting, because it is,” Ruda interrupted. “Sounds like something we could have a long talk about over a meal. But for right now, today, what impact are these Shadow Hunters gonna have on Veilgrad’s issues, do you think?”

“Right.” Trissiny nodded. “You’re right, sorry. For one thing, they’re keeping watch over the werewolves—they have methods of driving them away without harming them. Raichlin said if this keeps going much longer, the werewolves transforming without the moon being full, they’re going to be stretched increasingly thin, but for now he was confident they have that under control. So that’s one less immediate worry. More generally, they’re competent people with significant combat and wilderness skills who want to help end this threat.”

“That’ll be very useful if we have to go into the mountains in pursuit of this,” Teal said slowly.

“Yeah,” Ruda agreed. “But, I’m getting the impression it’ll be less useful in Veilgrad itself. Right?”

“Probably right,” Trissiny admitted. “So, for the moment…”

“For the moment,” Toby finished, “our most solid lead is still the imprisoned cultists.”

“I still say nothing’s gonna come of that,” Juniper muttered.

“You may be right,” Toby agreed. “You’ve got a point: if the Empire didn’t get anything out of them, I don’t know what our chances are. But it’s a lead, it’s right in front of us, and I think we’d be negligent not to at least try.”

“Not to mention,” Gabe added with a grin, “the good Colonel went out of his way to get us permission to go to the prison. Best not waste his time. I don’t think he loves the idea of us rattling around his town much to begin with.”

“Welp!” Ruda hopped down from the staircase, brushing off the seat of her coat. “That’s our morning arranged, then. Next stop, tea time with crazy assholes!”

She led the way to the exterior doors of the basement, the others slowly shuffling into position behind her. They didn’t exit until Ruda had carefully peeked out through the provided peephole to verify that the alley onto which the doors opened was deserted. From that point, though, it was the work of moments to file outside and shut the door behind them. On the exterior wall, it was carefully constructed to resemble an old wooden loading palette propped up against the building.

“What do the bells signify?” Shaeine asked quietly. Everyone turned to look at her.

“Bells?” Toby asked.

“I hear ’em,” Juniper said, frowning. “Not close to here. Wow, they’re ringing those things nonstop.”

“That is never a good sign,” Trissiny said. “Bells are usually for alarms. Which way, Shaeine?”

“Up the street, in this direction.”

Following the drow’s pointing hand, they strode quickly toward the mouth of the alley. Rounding the corner, the sound of tolling bells became audible—distant, but quiet. Other people in the sleepy little avenue had also stopped, turning to look.

“Uh oh,” Gabriel said, staring. In the distance, over the rooftops of Veilgrad, a column of smoke was drifting skyward. A very wide column. “Hey…isn’t that the direction we came from?”

“The barracks,” Trissiny whispered.

“Now, come on,” Toby protested. “What are the odds?”

“Whatever they are, something’s on fire,” she replied curtly. “How quickly can everyone move?”

Several screams rang out and the watching townfolk fled as Vadrieny emerged from within Teal. “We’d better split up. Some of us can get there faster than others.”

“What the fuck can you do about a fire?” Ruda protested.

“She can rescue people from it!” Trissiny snapped, bounding nimbly into Arjen’s saddle. “Fross, stick with me—we may need some ice. Everyone else, catch up as you can!”

“Right behind ya!” Friss chimed, zooming off after Trissiny as she took off down the street in a gallop. Vadrieny soared overhead, burning vividly even against the bright morning sky.

“Somebody remind me,” Ruda huffed as the others set off after them on foot, “next time there’s a crisis, to keep my eyes on Trissiny. I wanna see where that fucking horse comes from.”

 

The Imperial barracks was burning—part of it, anyway.

The original fortress was compact and nearly cubic, a starkly utilitarian design, but it had been expanded at least twice. The north and east faces had long wings jutting out—sturdy and defensible in design as the rest of the barracks, but made from stone in different-sized blocks, with differently shaped windows, all revealing that they had been added on as afterthoughts. The far end of the north wing was smoldering, orange flames still flickering in a few of its windows.

It was also soaking wet and partially sheathed in steaming ice.

When the rest of the students came pelting up to the front of the barracks, most of them panting, they found an argument in session, with two ranking Imperial soldiers standing nearly nose-to-nose, Vadrieny framed between them and looking uncomfortable.

“That is the most secure wing of the fortress for a reason,” Colonel Adjavegh was shouting, apparently heedless of the watching soldiers. Men and women in Army uniform thronged the area, and had mostly cleared the watching citizens back to a relatively safe distance. None of them attempted to prevent the students, who were led by Toby and Gabriel, from approaching. “I will not have civilians entering, especially not demons!”

“We’ve got people still unaccounted for,” Major Razsha shot right back. “If she can get them out, I do not care—”

She broke off at a nearby gathering of shadows. It receded in the next second, revealing the soot-stained form of Durst, who was straightening his coat.

“That’s the last of them,” the warlock reported briskly. “We found the rest of the research team, Major; they’ve got a secure room in a sublevel where they’ve holed up.”

“Thank the gods,” Adjavegh muttered. Despite his apparent willingness to forsake help for the sake of security, his entire frame slouched momentarily in relief. In the next moment he had regathered his poise. “All are accounted for?”

“Yes, Colonel,” Durst replied, nodding. “Simmons and Teloris are still there, providing healing. They’re pretty safe from the fire, but it’s hard to get any actual healing done through the walls, which is what they’re having to do. The room’s pretty damn secure; can’t even shadow-jump through.” He grinned. “Impressive warding on that safe room. We probably could have extracted them, but Doctor Svarnheld gave us an earful about damaging his precious containment spells. Anyhow, none of them have anything worse than some bruises and mild smoke inhalation, and the good doctor says the room will automatically unseal itself once the danger has passed.”

“So…we’re too late to help, then?” Toby said, stepping forward.

“Yes,” Colonel Adjavegh snapped, turning to glare at him.

“No.” Trissiny emerged from the doors to the main part of the barracks, beckoning them forward. She was sweaty and had blood on her hands. “We’ve got wounded in here, more than two dozen. The first casualties were the medical staff—the infirmary is right above where the fire broke out. No fatalities yet, but some of these people are burned badly, and I’m not the best healer. Shaeine, Toby, Juniper…”

“On it,” Toby said, dashing past her. Shaeine glided on his heels, moving no less quickly for her even pace. Watching them go, Adjavegh opened his mouth, then snapped it shut, scowling.

“Need my help, too?” Gabriel asked, stepping up to Trissiny. “I mean, I’m probably even worse at this than you are, but the light is the light…”

“Both of you get in there,” Ariel ordered. “There’s a spell that will help you absorb some risk of burnout from the other two clerics, and share your energy reserves. I can walk you through it; we should be able to get those healers back on their feet, at least.”

“Bless you,” Razsha said feelingly. “You and…whoever was just talking.”

“Thank you,” Adjavegh added somewhat grudgingly as the remaining two paladins ducked back into the barracks.

At that moment, a silver streak shot around the edge of the burned wing, coming to a halt in front of the group.

“Fire is extinguished, Colonel, sir!” Fross reported. “You’re gonna have some serious water damage on top of the burning—sorry, I couldn’t figure a way around that. Also, the stone walls are solid but most of the interior is wood and badly damaged. Be careful about going in there. Top two floors are pretty much about to collapse.”

“That has to be a new record,” the Major said wonderingly. “You’re sure? Everything’s put out?”

“Yes, ma’am!” Fross bobbed up and down excitedly. “Actually it’s been out for at least two minutes now but I went back and did a complete run-through to look for large pieces of wood still smoldering internally; they weren’t likely to combust again, what with how wet everything is, but I’m ninety percent sure this fire was magical in origin and you don’t take chances with stuff like that.”

“That is…frankly amazing,” said the Colonel. “I don’t suppose any more of your kind are interested in joining the Army?”

“I very much doubt it, sir,” the pixie chimed. “Also, it would be better to say that none of my kind are interested, rather than no more, since I’m not either. Um, sorry. No offense.”

“You could always go visit Jacaranda and ask nicely,” Ruda said with a broad grin.

“No!” Fross sparked in agitation. “Do not do that! She’s—the Pixie Queen does not like visitors, and I don’t even wanna think what’d happen if she got her hands on an Imperial officer. Oh, that would be bad.”

“Is this under control, then?” Vadrieny interjected, her polyphonic voice cutting through the discussion. “I’m not needed?”

“Unless you’re about to very much surprise us all with some healing magic, no,” Adjavegh said, staring narrowly at her. “I would like to have an extended word with you, Vadrieny, but… Perhaps not right now.”

“I can come back tomorrow,” the archdemon offered. “Or later this evening? Whenever you have things settled.”

“I appreciate that,” he said gruffly. “Let me get you my—TIMMS! Where the hell is that girl…” He turned and strode through the door of the main building.

“Thank you,” Razsha said feelingly, “once again, for intervening. This hit us fast and hard; if it wasn’t for you, it would have been a lot worse. Fross, you likely saved the fortress from being completely demolished. That fire was definitely more than natural. It’s only thanks to you two and General Avelea that our healers survived at all.”

“Aw, no big deal! I’m just glad to help!”

“So,” Ruda drawled, “unnatural fire, started right where it would hit both your medical staff and apparently some kind of research project in the basement that the Colonel doesn’t want a rescuing archdemon stumbling across… Interesting morning you’re having.”

The Major’s mouth thinned into a tense line. “None of this is wasted on me, Princess. What goes on in this barracks is Colonel Adjavegh’s domain; I’m not authorized to reveal anything that might be even slightly classified. However…” She glanced around at the soldiers thronging the square in front of the fortress. “…I want you to know that if it comes down to hunting whatever is responsible for this, and my strike team is given any share of that responsibility, we will be glad to work with you in whatever capacity you’re willing to help.”

Standing off to the side, Durst grinned.

“I’ll be sure to pass that along,” Ruda said. “All right! Enough standin’ around like fucking statuary. Vadrieny! Haul ass back into where the infirmary was an’ see what medical supplies you can salvage. Fross, go help, your aura storage’ll be needed.”

“Good idea,” Vadrieny agreed, shooting aloft with a great flap of her wings. Fross streaked after her, and in moments they had vanished around the scorched corner of the building, apparently seeking out a window not blocked by fallen beams. Most of the roof on that wing seemed to have collapsed inward.

“I’m gonna go lend a hand in there with the wounded,” Ruda said to Razsha, turning and striding toward the door. “Sing out if you’ve got anything else I can help with…though it doesn’t look like you’re hurting for warm bodies,” she added, glancing around at the assembled soldiers.

“Thank you, your Highness,” said the Major. “You have medical training, then?”

Ruda laughed. “Darlin’, I’ve got the one thing everyone always needs in a medical emergency.” She produced a bottle from within her coat and held it aloft as she made for the door. “Booze!”

 

It was a dirty, bedraggled and exhausted line of students who filed back into the warehouse basement hours later. The five healers had managed to wash up, to the extent of cleaning off the blood, but Trissiny still had soot in her hair. Juniper was limping and wincing, having discovered that her particular brand of healing—taking harm onto herself, as Fross had explained it—gave her trouble with the harm was caused by fire. Teal was visibly weary and practically leaning on Shaeine, who was as calm as ever, but moving stiffly and more slowly than usual. They had all expended a great deal of energy, even Ruda, who had busied herself with conventional first aid while the others worked their magic.

Toby finished shutting the door behind him, and turned to find the others clustered together, staring glumly at the panel behind which lay the tunnel to Dufresne Manor.

“That is gonna be a long walk,” Gabriel stated, summing up everyone’s unspoken thought. “You know what? I have come to a decision.” He sat down on the basement’s dirt floor, heedless of his long coat. “Fuck it, that’s what. Fross, you happen to have any food in your dimensional pockets?”

“How can you think of eating?” Trissiny groaned.

“I’m hungry, too,” Juniper said, stretching her arms with an unnerving series of cracking noises like breaking wood. “It’s well past lunch time and we’ve spent the morning using up lots of energy. Maybe we should’ve gone to a restaurant or something before coming back here. I want something to eat before we make that hike. I hate tunnels,” she added rather sullenly.

“I, for one, do not feel up to a large crowd of strangers,” Shaeine said quietly. “Especially since, to judge by the reactions we saw on the way back, we are likely to be the target of great interest by the populace.”

“At least they seem to like us better now,” Toby noted.

“I, uh, don’t have any food, I’m sorry,” Fross said, emitting a desultory chime. “After the hellgate incident I’ve started carrying first aid supplies, but we just sort of donated all of those. I’m sorry, guys, I should have thought of that. It seems so obvious in hindsight…”

“Ruda, what are you doing?” Trissiny demanded. The rest of the group turned to find Ruda at the top of the stairs, turning the latch of the trapdoor.

“It’s dead quiet up there,” she announced. “Apparently everyone’s gone to gawk at the barracks. Nothin’ like a good crisis to give everybody an excuse to slack off, eh?”

“That doesn’t explain what you’re doing up there,” Gabriel said. “Hey!” he added in a near shout as she pushed the trapdoor open and stepped out.

“I wanna check on something,” Ruda’s voice drifted back down to them. “Been watching this guy…”

“Guy?” Trissiny muttered. “She’s been watching a guy?”

“Well, it’s not like she did anything really crazy, like go strolling alone through werewolf-infested woods at night.” Juniper patted Trissiny on the shoulder as she passed her on the way to the stairs. “C’mon, I wanna see what she’s doing. Ruda always knows what she’s about.”

“I don’t wanna get up,” Gabriel whined.

Nevertheless, he did, though he moved slowly enough to be the last up the stairs. They emerged into the warehouse proper, peering uncertainly around. As Ruda had said, it appeared to be deserted.

The pirate herself was already at the far wall beside the door to what appeared to be an office, setting aside a wood panel which matched those separating the small room from the main warehouse floor. Behind it gaped a deep cubbyhole, in which sat a stack of boxes.

“Saw him tuckin’ stuff into here every few minutes, when the other guys were outside getting something off a cart,” Ruda announced, bending forward to pull one of the boxes out. “Or putting stuff on, hell if I know.”

“What do you think you’re doing?” Trissiny demanded. “Don’t rummage around in—this is all Malivette’s property! Hers and whoever she does business with.”

“Did I miss something?” Ruda said, glancing up at her and grinning. “Did we decide we’re trusting Malivette unconditionally now?”

“An inadvisable course of action, in my opinion, but oddly late to change your mind,” said Ariel. “You did, after all, leave your super-demon from beyond in her care.”

“This is hidden away and was being handled by somebody who didn’t want to be seen doin’ the handling,” Ruda said. “That is all the reason we need to be interested, when we’re surrounded by inscrutable bullshit that’s trying to get us killed. There we go!” She finally worked the lid off the uppermost crate and set it aside, then blinked down at the collection of bottles and other objects nestled in the straw within. “Huh. So…anybody know what all this shit is?”

Gabriel stepped forward, plodding with ostentatious weariness, and peered over her shoulder. “Bones, oils, enchanting powders, some kind of stone talisman… Looks like high-grade stuff, too. Spell components. I, uh, can’t really tell what kind or what for, though…”

“Those are demon bones,” Ariel announced. “Vials of powdered blood, grave dust, crypt etchings. This is for necromancy.”

In unison, they all straightened up, seeming to forget some of their weariness in alarm.

“Are you sure?” Trissiny demanded, unconsciously fondling the pommel of her sword. “Could they be used for anything else?”

“Individually, in conjunction with other reagents, certainly. Any number of other things. But this particular assortment, taken together, means necromancy.”

For a moment, Trissiny’s aura flared gold.

“Easy, Triss,” Toby cautioned. “There are no necromancers here.”

“Just a little pick-me-up,” she said tersely. “I haven’t slept much, and that was before this morning’s exertions. I just want to be at my best.” She turned and stalked back down the stairs into the basement. “For the conversation we are about to have with Malivette.”

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Trissiny hammered on the door for the third time. “Last chance,” she said flatly.

“I think if he was gonna come to the door, he’d have done it when we rang the bell,” said Gabriel. “Or at least the second time we rang the bell.”

“I believe his reticence is understandable,” said Shaeine. “After our previous visit, he doubtless has some idea what to expect.”

“I’m not sure I like the idea of barging in on a warlock who’s expecting it,” Ruda commented.

“I very much doubt this guy has anything to throw at us that we can’t handle,” said Trissiny, drawing her sword. “And as of now he has officially had his chance.” She wedged the tip of the blade behind one of the door’s iron hinges and began levering at it. Like most of Leduc Manor, the wood was rotted and the fixtures loose; progress wasn’t fast, but it began working free almost immediately.

“Um, I’m not sure you should be doing that,” Toby said hesitantly.

“An ax or crowbar would be better,” Trissiny grunted, “but at least I know this won’t break.”

A fiery glow washed over the manor’s ragged courtyard as Vadrieny emerged. The archdemon cleared her throat politely.

“Trissiny, if I may?”

The paladin yanked her sword free and stepped aside, allowing her up to the door. Vadrieny calmly sank her claws into the wood around its old iron latch, then ripped the entire thing free and tossed it aside. Immediately, the door sagged inward.

“Ah,” Trissiny said in satisfaction. “Thank you, Vadrieny.”

“My pleasure.”

She shoved through the door and into the ruinous entry hall, pausing to peer around.

“You feel it, I assume,” Toby murmured, coming in behind her.

She nodded. “No surprise. Even if Lord Sherwin hasn’t laid traps, this was home to a family of diabolists for who knows how many years.”

“Pshaw, bring ’em on!” Fross chimed, swooping in above their heads. “We took on a hellgate!”

“What do you think you’re doing!?” bellowed a reedy voice from the back of the hall. In the darkest, most distant corner behind the stairs, a door flew open and Sherwin Leduc himself stomped out, glaring furiously. “How dare you burst in here! Do you have any idea who—”

“Shut up,” Trissiny ordered. “We’re here to release your prisoner. Are you going to be helpful, or are you going to get hurt?”

“This is your doing!” he raged, pointing a trembling finger at Vadrieny. “I should never have let you in!”

“I’m done with you, little man,” she said disdainfully. “Now you deal with the paladins.”

“Through that door, then?” Gabriel said, circling around the rest of the group and stepping with care on the decayed floorboards. “Well, if he’s not gonna lead the way, I trust you two remember?”

“It is not far,” said Shaeine.

“Absolutely not!” Leduc shouted. “You thugs are not messing with my work! I have spent too much time and effort and money arranging this to have it all undone by a bunch of kids. I don’t care who you are!”

“You probably should,” Juniper remarked. She had removed her ring outside and now showed her normal coloring, not that it seemed to make much impression on him.

“Enough,” Trissiny said curtly, stalking forward. “Get out of the way.”

“You think you’re going to invade Leduc Manor without consequences, little girl?” he snarled. “I have means of dealing with interlopers. Don’t you dare take another step! You don’t have the authority—”

“I am the Hand of Avei!” Trissiny roared, flaring alight. Golden wings sprang forth from behind her, stretching into the cavernous emptiness of the hall and filling every corner with Avei’s radiance.

The entire building groaned as if its very stones were trying to fall down. There came cascades of sparks from across the walls and ceiling, and flashes of flame as invisible demonic wards combusted in midair around the room. Toby and Gabriel added their own blazing auras, accelerating the reaction of the manor’s defenses, and soon the whole place was filled with a haze of sulfur-scented fog. The sounds of splintering wood and breaking glass continued to echo from distant rooms.

The whole time, Trissiny didn’t so much as pause.

“You are keeping a woman imprisoned for purposes that don’t even bear mentioning!” she snarled, continuing on toward the suddenly ashen-faced Lord Leduc. “My authority ends where you muster the power to stop me, which I think you will find is nowhere!”

She casually slammed her shield into him, shoving him aside, and stalked right past. Leduc caught himself against the wall, staring in apparent stupefaction as the rest of the party trooped after Trissiny. Most gave him disdainful looks in passing. Only Fross dallied a few extra moments in the hall, conjuring up a cold wind to clear out the smoke.

“This way,” said Shaeine, slipping into the lead in the kitchen apartment and showing the others to the rear door that concealed the staircase. Vadrieny had to fold her wings in tightly to pass through, but did not retreat back into Teal. The three paladins dimmed their glows at a pointed look from the archdemon.

Moments later, the group was spreading out in the dark hall at the base of the stairs. It branched off to either side, but the room converted into Leduc’s elaborate prison stood almost across from the stairwell. Vadrieny stepped up to the door and spoke a few harsh syllables.

The others clustered around, craning their necks to peer within. The cage’s occupant had sprung upright, grasping the bars, and now stared eagerly through them at the archdemon, babbling rapidly in the same rasping tongue.

After a momentary exchange, Vadrieny nodded and withdrew, leaving only Teal, who glanced behind her at the others. “Watch your step,” she cautioned. “I don’t think the sigils on the floor will hurt any of us, but I’m not sure I wanna learn what happens when you break a holy sigil with this many demon-blooded people in the vicinity.”

“Well,” said Fross, coming to hover above her, “depending on the circumstances and the deity in question—”

“It was rhetorical, Fross,” said Ruda.

“Oh.”

“Get away from there!” Leduc howled, barreling out of the stairwell behind them. “Don’t touch her! You can’t just come in here and do this! She’s mine, I can do whatever I like with her! I know the law—succubi have no legal standing under—”

“You unbelievable imbecile, that isn’t a succubus!” Gabriel exclaimed. “Are you daft or just blind? Look at her!”

“They’re shape-shifters, you twit!” Leduc snarled right back. “She’s just being obstreperous. I have this in hand, and you will not—”

“That should have been the thing that clued you in,” Toby interrupted, staring severely at him. “A succubus wouldn’t have told you ‘no.’ They essentially never do. She’d have accepted your advances and any terms you offered and immediately begun manipulating you and working around them. You’re a diabolist; you should know that, or you have no business trying to summon one.”

“He has no business trying to summon a child of Vanislaas under any circumstances,” Trissiny snorted. “No one does.”

“Oh, so here’s the big Avenist to make sure nobody has any fun,” Leduc sneered at her. “You can talk about justice all you like, we all know you just hate the thought of a man not needing women. What are you without that control? Just a whore priced out of the market!”

Trissiny whirled and stalked right at him at a pace barely short of a run, bringing up her sword.

“Trissiny!” Shaeine said firmly. “Justice.”

The paladin came to a stop, glaring at Leduc through slitted eyes; he had staggered backward against the wall, apparently realizing only belatedly what he’d said, to judge by the horrified look on his face. After a moment she drew in a deep breath and let it out in a long hiss through her teeth. “Right. You’re correct. Thank you, Shaeine.”

“I do believe,” Ariel commented, “this man is the dumbest nominally sentient being I have ever encountered.”

“And she hangs out with Gabe! That’s sayin’ something.”

“Thank you, Ruda, for your input.”

“Oh, don’t give me that look, Arquin. Difference is, you learn. Eventually.”

Juniper cleared her throat and took Leduc by the upper arm. “Hey, can I have a word with you upstairs?”

“June,” Toby warned.

“I’m not gonna hurt him,” the dryad reassured them. “I just want to talk. C’mon, this way.” She pulled Sherwin back into the stairwell, so abruptly he nearly lost balance.

“Hey—let go of me! I won’t want—”

“Yeah, I don’t really care. You can feel free to hex me all you want, if it makes you feel better.”

His protesting voice gradually diminished as they ascended the stairs.

“I…am gonna go keep an eye on that,” Fross said, fluttering over to the stairwell. “If you need my help with anything down here, just shout.”

“Will do,” Gabriel promised, then glanced at the stairs with a frown. “And Fross? Same goes.”

“Yeah,” the pixie agreed, then zipped through the door and up the stairs.

“All right,” Toby said, turning and stepping carefully into the prison room. “What’s the plan, here?”

The rest of them followed him in, and paused, the group stretched out along the walkway of planks leading to the cage. Within, the demon now stared at them in silence, still clutching the bars.

Trissiny slowly pivoted in place, studying the room. It was practically papered in holy symbols, interrupted only where the lights were hung and the fairy altars set up.

“Well, we can’t bring her out with all this here, she’d just burn,” said Teal. “I guess…step one should be taking down those altars? They’re feeding power into the sigils. From there… I dunno. Breaking them seems like a bad idea.”

“It is,” Trissiny agreed. “Gabe, Toby… Do either of you happen to know the ritual of deconsecration?”

“Wait, you can de a consecration?” Gabriel exclaimed. “Man…I am so far behind.”

“Not in this case,” said Toby, frowning. “I’ve never even heard of that.”

“I hadn’t either,” Trissiny murmured. “It wasn’t part of my education. After that demonblood shopkeeper in Tiraas gave me an earful last winter, I looked it up. I know the ritual to purge a blessing from an Avenist sigil. But if you don’t…”

“Merely deconsecrating the golden eagles in this room is unlikely to make a substantial difference, even considering Avei’s primacy of place within the Pantheon,” said Shaeine. “Even if Toby and Gabriel can do the same with their own sigils. That would leave most still active.”

“It’s a universal ritual,” said Trissiny. “Should work on anything. But…”

“Uh, yeah,” Toby said worriedly. “I don’t know what would happen if three paladins scrubbed the blessings off a bunch of sigils of every god, but I doubt it would be much better than just breaking all these.”

“Azh’khthash mavhtchaar!” the demon said impatiently.

“Oh, keep your pants on, we’re working on it,” Gabriel retorted.

“She’s not wearin’ pants,” Ruda said helpfully.

“Look,” he snapped, rounding on her, “if you want actually do something useful, what about that sword of yours? Mithril blocks magic—it could neutralize the sigils.”

“You want me to go through this room individually poking every one of these goddamn things?” she said dryly. “That’s great, Arquin. Sure, why not. I didn’t have anything else planned for this fucking year.”

“It probably wouldn’t take more than a few hours,” said Teal, rubbing her chin. “And…well, our other option is to carefully and respectfully move each of these out of the room.”

Trissiny shook her head. “I have to say this is a dilemma I never expected to face.”

“Okay, hang on,” said Gabriel, closing his eyes.

“Uh, hey,” Ruda said, “can you nap on your own—”

“Ruda, be silent,” Shaeine said flatly. Ruda blinked and turned to her in surprise. “He’s reaching out to his deity. At this point, we should welcome any option.”

“Right,” Gabriel said, heaving a sigh and opening his eyes. “Okay. Got a solution. I can shadow-jump her out of the cage and into the hall. It was safe for Vadrieny outside the room, so she should be fine.”

The others stared at him, Trissiny and Shaeine having to crane around their classmates to see.

“You can shadow-jump?” Trissiny finally demanded. “Since when?”

“Gabe,” Toby said, frowning, “you haven’t been studying infernal magic, have you?”

“Little known fact,” said Gabriel, “but shadow-jumping isn’t actually infernal magic. It’s a kind of shadow magic, which can in theory be done by any of the four schools, but the infernal is easiest. Anyway, no, I can’t just do it at will. But it’s something Vidius does upon request for his most…uh, senior priests. If he considers the reason worthwhile.”

“And he considers this worthwhile?” Trissiny frowned, turning back to peer at the caged demon. “I have to say I’m…surprised.”

“Hey, if you want to know why a god does something, I can’t help you,” Gabriel said wryly. “He did say last spring that he was interested in seeing if demons are worth more than just target practice. And, I mean, he’s no Avei, but the guy has a basic sense of fairness. This shit right here would be unacceptable even if she was an aggressor. Considering she was basically kidnapped…”

“All right,” said Teal, “I’d better try to explain it to her. Excuse me…”

She very carefully edged past Toby and Trissiny to the front, approaching the cage. The demon watched her flatly. That close, the contrast with Teal made it obvious what a physically powerful specimen the prisoner was—she towered head and shoulders above the bard, and was far more muscular of build than any woman any of them had seen before. Aside from the spiked iron bracers, her only garment was a leather wrap that encased her from just below her arms to just above her knees—it left a lot of her skin on display, and every inch of that was laid over bulging muscle.

“Hhthrazhkin duon,” Teal said carefully. “Vreskin hrazth ag szhagsnad.”

The demon, incongruously, grinned widely and snickered. Teal sighed heavily, running a hand over her face.

“Are you telling her jokes?” Ruda demanded.

“No,” Teal said in irritation. “It’s just… Vadrieny’s feeding me the words, but they’re hard to form. My pronunciation…isn’t great. If I could just let her out to do this it’d be a lot easier, but last time the sigils…”

“You’re lucky you have that Talisman of Absolution,” said Toby. “Or you both could have been seriously harmed.”

“Yeah,” Teal agreed, turning back to the demon. “Talk amongst yourselves, I’m gonna try to explain things. It could take a bit to get it right.”

“I’m not surprised,” Ruda said in a quieter tone as Teal carried on rasping at the demon. “That whole fucking language sounds like a cat horking something up.”

“I’ve always wondered about that,” Gabriel murmured. “It seems weird. Most demons have the same basic kind of vocal apparatus we do, right? I mean, the sentient ones.”

“They do,” said Trissiny, “and it’s neither weird nor a coincidence. Demonic is a constructed language; it was designed by Scyllith. The goddess of cruelty.”

“It’s not just the pronunciation,” Shaeine added. “The Scyllithene dialect of elvish is influenced by demonic. The accent is only subtly different, but grammar and word order is all turned around, and not in a pattern that seems consistent. Admittedly, though, our exchanges with our Scyllithene cousins are rarely verbal.”

They all turned to watch for a moment as Teal fell silent and the demon began speaking; her voice was deep and made the guttural tongue seem to fill the room. Several of the sigils rattled very softly against each other.

“So, about shadow-jumping,” Toby said quietly. “Care to go into a little more detail on that, Gabe?”

“All right, well…” Gabriel scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I know you guys have only taken Yornhaldt’s basic classes, but in the actual arcane degree program….uh. Let me think how to put it. Fross is better at explaining these things…”

“Allow me?” Ariel suggested. “Shadow magic refers to any classification of spell that does not belong to one of the four schools on the Circle of Interaction. There are few such, but they do exist—for example, the source of vampires. Shadow-jumping is one such type of spell. Its magic cannot be accessed directly by our methods, and requires an intermediary use of Circle-compliant magic. Doubtless it was easier to access before the Elder War, but many of the rules were changed with the fall of the Elder Gods and the creation of the divine and arcane energy fields.

“In essence, it is an issue of power. Infernal magic has a naturally corrosive effect on physical reality, and so when manipulated in the right way is useful for boring a hole between two places, which is the essence of what shadow-jumping is, and activates the effect. With the other three schools, there is just not enough energy. An arcanist can simply teleport far more cheaply; a cleric could not handle the requisite amount of divine power without being incinerated by it. And by the time a witch gathered up enough totems of power and fairy allies to perform such a feat, she could have just walked there. Thus, shadow-jumping is commonly only done by diabolists. The only exception is when a deity intervenes to do it for a follower, as is apparently the case with Vidius and his senior priests and now Hand. I didn’t know that either,” she added somewhat petulantly.

“You’re a pretty good lecturer, Ariel,” Toby said, grinning. “You could almost teach a class yourself.”

“I have often thought so. Not that Professor Ekoi sets the bar very high.”

“Hey, I like Ekoi,” Gabriel protested. “I mean, when she’s not sticking her claws in me. She’s funny. Sly, I mean, not goofy like Rafe.”

“Okay,” Teal called. “I think we’ve reached an understanding here. Gabriel, you need to touch her, right?”

“Right.”

“She’ll allow it, as long as you’re respectful.”

“Dear gods in the sky,” he said, wide-eyed, “I just need a grip on her arm. I’m not gonna grope her.”

“I understand that, Gabe,” the bard said patiently, “but you need to consider where she’s been and what Leduc’s been trying to get her to do. Her tolerance is understandably low.”

“Ah… Yeah, point taken.”

He carefully eased past the others to join Teal at the bars.

“Schkhurrankh, vzash’ke Gabriel,” Teal said. “Gabriel, meet Schkhurrankh. Don’t try to say it; I’m having a hard enough time, and the slightest mispronunciation of someone’s name is basically demanding a duel in her culture.”

“How the hell are they not all dead?” he marveled. “Uh, hi there…ma’am. Nice to meet you. I’m Gabe; I’m a friend, promise.” He gingerly slipped one hand through the bars, holding it up toward her face. Schkhurrankh peered at it, then tilted her head, frowning down at him.

“Gabriel, she is hardly going to sniff your fingers,” said Ariel, “and I dearly hope she doesn’t understand the implication.”

“Uh, right!” he said, quickly lowering his arm and gesturing toward one of hers.

“Let’s be moving back toward the hall,” suggested Trissiny. “Leave them space to arrive, but…”

“But it’s best if we’re around when she’s out of that cage,” Teal agreed. “I think it’s best if Vadrieny’s there, in fact.”

As they filed out the door, the demon finally took Gabriel’s arm, wrapping her enormous clawed fingers around his wrist and leaving him to do the same with hers.

“Vladskhaar n’zud, tzukhlunth,” she warned.

“Somehow, I don’t even need that translated,” he said. “All right, hold on to your… Uh, you know what, never mind. Here we go.”

In that brightly-lit room, the swelling up of shadows around the cage was so visually wrong it was disconcerting; the simultaneous deepening of the darkness in the already-dim hall outside seemed much more appropriate. Gabriel and Schkhurrankh re-materialized in the center of the hall, just as Trissiny stepped out of the prison room, the last to arrive. In the next moment, Vadrieny emerged from within Teal, adding her orange glow to the dimness.

Schkhurrankh drew in a deep breath, her powerful chest swelling, then let it out as a deafening roar, whirled and began slamming her fists into the stone wall. Craters formed immediately; dust shook from the ceiling and more and more fragments of stone were sent flying, prompting Shaeine to shield herself and Ruda behind silver spheres. Toby held up a hand to protect his eyes; Trissiny was armored and Gabriel durable, and added no magical effects. All three paladins were reluctant to flash any divine magic at the towering demon. She was grinning in exultation as she systematically pummeled the stonework, as if punishing the manor itself for daring to have imprisoned her.

“Um,” said Toby, “not that she doesn’t have every right to be pent-up, but I have no idea whether this is a load-bearing wall…”

“Ashask zsakhar!” Vadrieny snapped, and Schkhurrankh immediately stopped, turning and bowing low to the archdemon.

“Well, then!” Gabriel said, wiping his palms against his coat. “I guess that’s the hard part taken care of.”

“Think so, do you?” asked Ariel.

 

Leduc’s apartment was still unoccupied. They finally found their reluctant host and the fairies all the way out in the collapsing entrance hall, where Fross was slowly drifting around the ceiling, laying patches of ice here and there for some reason. Juniper and Sherwin were seated side by side on the bottom of the once-grand staircase. Strangely, he was slumped forward with his face in his hands, and she had an arm draped around his shoulders.

Before anyone could even ask, Schkhurrankh let out a furious roar and charged at them.

Vadrieny lunged, but was a hair too slow. Juniper, however, managed to stand and place herself in front of Leduc; she caught the charging demon with one outstretched hand and very calmly threw her back.

Schkhurrankh went flying across the room, slamming against a the far wall. Beside her, the boards that had been covering the window collapsed, along with a good chunk of the stone wall itself. The demon sat there, blinking in astonishment.

“Oh,” Juniper said, wincing, “oops. She’s not as heavy as she looks. Is she okay? I really didn’t mean to hurt—”

The demon brayed again in wordless outrage, bounding to her clawed feet and beginning to lunge forward again.

This time, Vadrieny got there first, seizing Schkhurranh by the throat and whirling her around the slam her back against the wall. An entire segment of it collapsed, showering both demons with falling masonry; the whole building groaned in protest, part of the roof caving dangerously toward the new depression.

Sherwin and the students, with a chorus of yells, skittered away to the opposite side of the room, with the exception of Fross, who dived at the collapsing section, spraying out water that instantly froze. In seconds, she had propped up the falling masonry with ice, temporarily halting the collapse. It was hardly a permanent solution, however; aside from the fact that it wouldn’t last long, the ice added more weight to the already beleaguered masonry.

The two demons paid this no mind, any more than they did to the stone and rotted timber that had smashed down on top of them; both were yelling at each other in demonic. It was a peculiar sight; despite Vadrieny’s impressive mane and wings of fire, she was physically a good bit smaller than Schkhurrankh. Despite this, she held the bigger demon in place without apparent effort. In fact, the Rhaazke didn’t seem to dare struggle against her, contenting herself with words.

“I…I should go apologize to her,” Leduc said miserably, wringing his hands.

“That would be an incredibly bad idea,” Toby said firmly.

“That appears to be the only kind he has,” Ariel commented.

“Now you want to apologize?” Trissiny demanded, rounding on Leduc. He flinched back from her, hunching in on himself and dropping his gaze.

“We’ve been having a talk,” Juniper explained. “I think I made him understand why what he did was wrong. Sherwin isn’t malicious; he’s just naïve, entitled, repressed and was in denial about all the rest of it. We worked through that and made a real breakthrough!”

“That,” Shaeine said carefully, “is so impressive as to defy believability. Mental healers work with patients for years to make that kind of progress, Juniper. He is quite possibly scamming you.”

“Nah, he’s not quick-witted enough to do that.”

“Hey!” Leduc protested weakly.

“Well, you’re not,” the dryad said reasonably. “Remember what we discussed about acknowledging your faults? Anyhow, Shaeine, most mental healers can’t tell every detail about a person’s sexual identity and desires by their scent. Since this whole messy business is bound up in his sexuality, that pretty much told me everything. Also, most mental healers don’t physically restrain their patients from leaving until they listen. Even so, the poor guy really does mean well, he just—”

“The poor guy?!” Trissiny shouted, practically spitting with rage. Leduc gulped loudly and edged behind Juniper.

“Yeah, the poor guy,” the dryad said firmly, meeting Trissiny’s gaze unflinchingly. “He should be held responsible for this, Trissiny, I am not arguing that. But come on… I refuse to believe that mentally healthy people do things like this to each other. At the root of all evil is pain, or ignorance. Acknowledging that doesn’t mean we don’t see justice done.”

“W-wait,” Lord Leduc said tremulously. “I-I thought…”

“Sherwin,” Juniper said in exasperation, “you kidnapped somebody, imprisoned and tortured her, and were going to rape her eventually. Now, I’ve got more empathy than most for somebody who did something that awful out of ignorance, but come on. There have gotta be consequences. You may not believe it now, but I promise you need to face them if you’re ever gonna straighten yourself out. I’ve been there.”

Leduc let out a soft squeak and seemed to wilt in on himself even further.

Across the room, Schkhurrankh’s tone had become pleading rather than enraged. Vadrieny was no longer gripping her by the throat, but had her clawed hands on each of the larger demon’s shoulders, and seemed more to be holding her up than holding her back.

“Excuse me,” said Ariel, “but why are we restraining her? Letting the sexually deviant warlock be killed by the demon he abused seems both efficient and equitable. Poetic, even.”

“That is not what we do,” Shaeine said firmly. “We will have justice, not more senseless violence.”

“Not all violence is necessarily senseless,” Trissiny said darkly, “but you’re right. Justice is all the more important when it is tempting to just dispatch the criminal.” She glared at Leduc, who had peeked around from behind Juniper at her. He squeaked again and ducked back into hiding.

“Excuse me, I hate to rush what’s obviously an important moment,” Fross chimed from above, “but you two are standing right under the part of the room that’s gonna collapse and this really is not going to hold it up much longer. Do I need to build a bigger ice brace, here, or can we move all this outside?”

Vadrieny looked up at her, then back at Schkhurrankh, and said quietly, “Thatznha. Shlvakhshka rhe. Zhtzi?”

The Rhaazke drew in a deep breath, bared her fangs for a moment, but then nodded. “Tzkhorsa lkhai.”

“I believe we are done,” Vadrieny said, finally releasing Schkhurrankh and stepping back. “Let’s get out of here before it all comes down.”

“That language is really interesting,” Fross said brightly, descending toward them. “That whole time I don’t think I actually heard you repeat a syllable. It doesn’t actually have grammar, does it? Kinda like the gnomish Patter, but with—”

“Fross!” Ruda exclaimed.

“Oh. Right. Escaping, yes, got it.”

They made their slow and wary way toward the broken door, keeping a careful eye not only on the damaged roof and rotten floor, but also on Schkhurrankh and Leduc, who had locked eyes from across the room. After a moment, he mumbled something, turned and scurried off into the darkness down another side hall. The demon snorted loudly and stalked the rest of the way to the door, not minding how the wood crunched under her talons. The rest of them followed much more carefully, but also quickly.

Outside, they regrouped in the courtyard, and apparently not a moment too soon. Behind them, half of the entry hall collapsed, the tinkle of shattering ice added to the roar of broken stone and fallen beams. It went on for long moments before stilling.

“D’you think he’s okay?” Juniper asked, frowning.

“That fucker has never been okay in his life,” Ruda snorted.

“Whether he is or not, this isn’t over,” Trissiny said firmly. “He has yet to face any meaningful consequences for what he did.”

“You mean, apart from collapsing half his house?”

“Ruda,” she said impatiently, “if he cared about that, the house wouldn’t have been in this state to begin with.”

“Also, it wasn’t half the house,” Fross added. “Pretty much just the front room. Still looks solid behind that.”

Schkhurrankh growled loudly and punched the crumbling remains of a gargoyle perched beside the manor’s front steps. It dissolved into a spray of gravel.

“Brilliant,” said Ariel. “Look what we get to babysit now. I hope everyone is pleased.”

“Shut up, Ariel,” Trissiny said wearily. “The problem now is getting her back to Dufresne Manor. Obviously, taking her through Veilgrad is not even a prospect. Gabriel…?”

“No dice, I already asked,” he said shaking his head. “Getting the imprisoned victim out of the cage was apparently worth divine intervention; facilitating convenient travel, not so much.”

“Deities generally prefer not to be called upon lightly,” Shaiene noted.

“Also,” said Ruda, “we came right here from Veilgrad, which means Malivette has no idea we’re bringing her another houseguest from an unreachable sub-Hell who doesn’t speak a word of Tanglish. So, that’s gonna be an interesting conversation.”

“So much for the hard part being over,” Toby said wryly, looking at Gabriel.

Gabe sighed heavily. “Come on, guys. What is it gonna take for you to stop listening when I talk?”

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“And this person was unfamiliar to you?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Principia said crisply. “I keep aware of the Guild’s leadership but I’ve always been somewhat standoffish. I’m afraid I’m not close enough to any other members to comment reliably on a person’s standing.”

“There must be hundreds of Sifanese in the capital alone,” Bishop Shahai said thoughtfully, her eyes on Commander Rouvad. “They are one of the Empire’s closest allies. I don’t know how common a name Saduko might be. A surname would be helpful, of course…”

“Which is doubtless why one wasn’t offered,” the Commander said dryly, glancing up and down the hall. They were having this discussion right outside her office, where Principia had waited for the two of them to emerge and given her report on the confrontation on the parade grounds. It was hardly private, but the subject matter wasn’t secret, either. “What of her…other name? Perhaps the Guild can tell us why this Gimmick would be working for dragons.”

“As Sergeant Locke pointed out,” said Shahai, “she is not working with the Guild on this matter, or she would not have come here and threatened Locke’s neutrality. I can make inquiries with them.”

Principia cleared her throat.

“You have something to contribute, Sergeant?” Commander Rouvad asked, raising an eyebrow.

“With the greatest respect, ma’am, I would advise that the High Commander do that,” Principia said, standing subtly more rigidly at attention.

“Oh?” Shahai said mildly.

“They will respect an open approach, and will not challenge the leader of a major cult directly. Your Grace…you are very smart. Being smart with the Guild isn’t a good approach. If they think you’re playing games with them…well, the games will begin.”

“The Bishop hardly indulges in scheming for scheming’s sake,” Rouvad said pointedly, “unlike some individuals we all know. This isn’t yet important enough I want to make it an official cult-to-cult affair; the existing interfaith infrastructure of the Church will suffice. Speak with your fellow Bishop, Nandi; Mr. Darling has struck me as a man who loves doing favors and forming connections. Locke, you’re certain Gimmick is the correct tag? Could it be a false one?”

“Tags are a sacrament, ma’am. Eserites don’t falsify them.”

The Commander raised an eyebrow. “What, never?”

“Not twice,” Principia said, pursing her lips. Shahai smiled in amusement.

“That leaves the question of this dragon, Zanzayed,” the Commander said, her dark eyes boring into Principia’s. “I realize you are jealous of your privacy, Locke, but this is not the time to be cagey. You are certain you know no more of him than you’ve told us?”

“I know of him, ma’am,” Principia replied. “In honesty, probably less than Bishop Shahai does. She, at least, has researched the Conclave delegates. Anyone who lives long enough and is active in the world learns the names of the active dragons; Zanzayed is the one they respect and fear the least. Beyond that, I have no idea. I am frankly a little alarmed that he’s interested in me. The feeling is not mutual.”

“According to your report,” said Rouvad, turning back to Shahai, “he called it a family concern.”

“I’m afraid that narrows it down very little,” the Bishop said, shaking her head. “Locke’s bloodline… How would you put it, Locke?”

“Half of them are loner tauhanwe and the other half are the most deliberately boring, traditional elves they can be, to dissociate themselves from the first half,” Principia reported. “Neither will have anything to say to emissaries from a human faith, if you can even find any. If you want to know what interactions Zanzayed has had with the Crowbloods, ma’am, it’s probably best to ask him.”

“Interesting,” Rouvad mused. “And is Crowblood your actual surname?”

“We don’t have surnames in the sense you do, Commander, unless they’re earned.” She glanced momentarily at the Bishop without turning her head. “It’s just something my bloodline tends to be called, owing to its oldest member.”

Commander Rouvad heaved a sigh and turned back to Shahai. “All right, Nandi, this is pertinent to your assignment. Do you need anything requisitioned to proceed?”

“I believe what I already have will suffice admirably, Farzida,” the Bishop replied. “If the sergeant and I are dismissed?”

“Of course. I leave this in your skilled hands.”

Shahai bowed to the Commander, Principia saluting behind her, then turned and glided off down the hall. “Come, Locke. Let’s go waste some time.”

“I knew there was a reason I liked you,” Principia said, following.

Commander Rouvad stood, frowning after them in silence for a long moment, before turning and departing in the other direction.

 

“Partial success,” Ruda announced, plunking herself down in a chair. She fished a bottle of ale out of her coat with one hand and snagged one of Juniper’s cookies with the other. “The Huntsmen definitely know something about the werewolves.”

“They told you so?” Toby said, frowning. “What did they say?”

“It’s not what they said, but what they didn’t,” said Gabriel. “And how they didn’t say it. They really did not like us asking about the werewolves; the whole lodge went dead silent, and suddenly everyone was a lot less friendly.”

“They were friendly?” Trissiny said, raising her eyebrows.

“Actually, yeah, they seemed like a pretty laid-back bunch before that point,” Ruda mused, leaning backward and tilting her chair up on two legs. “Good hosts, glad to have company.”

“Ruda got flirted with,” Gabriel reported with a grin. “A lot.”

“And why not? I am the fucking personification of brains, beauty and brawn.”

“Back on the subject,” Trissiny said with some exasperation, “what exactly did you learn? About werewolves or anything else?”

“Not a lot that was specific, or useful,” Gabriel said ruminatively. Suddenly he glanced around. “Uh, before we get into details, should we maybe wait for Teal and Shaeine to get back?”

“We can go over it again,” Ruda said dismissively. “Hell, there really aren’t details. You’ve already heard the whole damn thing, guys. We talked to the Huntsmen, they were nice—they’ve got a nice pad, by the way, I like their notion of decor—and everything was fine until Arquin happened to ask if having werewolves around interfered with the hunting. Then bam, serious faces, and nobody would talk about it. The lodge master finally said the subject was not fit to be discussed.” She shrugged and took a gulp of ale. “That’s it. It’s a start, but not much of one.”

“In a way,” Juniper mused, “it makes some sense. Wolves are sacred to Shaathists, right? And so is manhood. A werewolf is, like…both.”

“Any insights on this, Trissiny?” Toby asked. “You at least got some training on the other cults. The monks didn’t really give me any, and the Church was more interested in teaching me about demons and warlocks.”

“The training I got was mostly in threat assessment and how to deal with doctrinal conflicts,” Trissiny said, frowning. “I could explain in detail exactly how Shaathist dogma is aberrantly misogynistic, and how to handle being in a fight with a Huntsman, but as for exactly what they believe and why, or how they worship…” She shrugged.

“You Avenists sure are clear about your priorities,” Ruda commented.

“Yes, I would say that’s true,” Trissiny said flatly.

“Oh! It’s them!” Fross chimed, shooting straight upward and then darting out over the balcony to stare down into the market square below. In the daylight, she was hard to spot against the sky. “And…uh oh, I think something’s wrong with Teal.”

“Freeze!” Ruda snapped as all of them twitched toward the bannister. “Damn it, you numbnuts, we’ve got eyes on us. Basically all of them. Don’t act alarmed about something and definitely don’t direct attention to Teal and Shaeine. Fross,” she added while they settled reluctantly back into their seats, “what does it look like? Is she hurt?”

“Not to bad, I don’t think,” Fross reported. “She looks…tired. She’s kinda leaning on Shaeine.”

“What could make Teal…” Trissiny trailed off, glancing back into the crowded pub behind them. The townsfolk were still trying to be relatively discreet, but it was hardly a secret that their table was the center of attention.

“We’ll know momentarily,” Toby said quietly. “Sounds like it’s not urgent; Ruda’s right. Let’s not court attention that may lead to trouble later.”

“Any more than you can help by nature, that is?”

“On the fuckin’ subject of not drawing attention,” Ruda said in exasperation, “maybe it’d be best if any fucking inanimate objects at the table refrained from talking?”

“Nobody’s close enough to tell,” Gabriel said quietly, stroking Ariel’s hilt. “Still, though, she’s got a good point. Best to be discreet, partner. I’m not sure I wanna know what the locals would think about you.”

“You never take me anywhere nice.”

He rolled his eyes; Ruda snorted back a laugh.

“And for the record, ‘fucking’ is not punctuation, your Highness.”

“Fuckin’ is if you fuckin’ use it right. Fucker.”

“Come on, Ariel, you were asking for that,” Juniper said. The sword made no further comment.

It took a rather tense few minutes for Teal and Shaeine to navigate through the building to the upper-level pub, and cross the space toward their classmates. Up closer, Teal looked strained and tired, though she was walking under her own power now. Shaeine was even more inscrutable than usual, being fully hidden beneath her hood and gloves. A mysteriously cowled figure naturally drew attention, but the group had unanimously agreed it would be less attention and of a more harmless variety than the sight of a drow. All three Underworld entrances were on the other side of the Golden Sea from here; to the Stalweiss, dark elves were monsters out of legend.

“Hey, glad you two made it back all right,” Gabriel said, standing and solicitously pulling out a chair for Teal. “Have a seat, you look bushed. You okay?”

“Thanks, Gabe, but later,” Teal said tersely, glancing around. “Guys… Can we leave, please?”

“What’s wrong?” Trissiny asked, instinctively grasping the hilt of her sword.

“We need to go somewhere private and talk,” Teal said. “We have a big problem.”

 

“Forgive me if this is none of my business, your Grace, but who’s funding all this?” Principia asked, setting down her teacup. “I understand the basics of what you’re doing, but it seems somewhat…tenuous…to the military mind. How’d you convince a Legion quartermaster to let you go shopping on Avei’s purse?”

“Oh, no, neither the Legions nor the Sisterhood have paid for any of this,” Shahai said with a light laugh. “Not today’s excursions, nor our previous—and rather more expensive—shopping trips. It all comes out of my own pocket. It won’t be wasted,” she added more pensively, “eventually I’ll find places to donate everything. For now, though, the potential dragon bribes need to remain in my possession; I doubt I can get rid of that much wealth without drawing attention, and I want our targets to think I’m planning to shmooze them a bit later. And, subsequently, to grow increasingly curious when I do not.”

“Those are major expenses to come out of your own pocket, your Grace,” Principia said carefully.

“I can afford it,” the Bishop replied mildly. “As can you. For, more or less, the same reason. My rent is paid by the Church; the Sisterhood provides me meals and any necessary medical care. I prefer a simple existence, and hoard only a few possessions for their sentimental value. As it is not politically prudent to refuse my rather exorbitant salary, it just…builds up. Frankly I find it a relief to be able to unload it now and again. Projects like this are the reason I don’t simply donate everything to the Omnist food pantries.”

“Ah,” Principia said, nodding sagely and gazing out over the old spice market. “And thus do we establish a point of commonality and encourage me to open up a bit about my own mysterious history.”

“Your history is less mysterious than you may be aware,” Shahai said calmly. “And I do know that one of the most effective ways to disarm conversational manipulation is to point it out. I am glad, Principia, that you are growing more comfortable with me. It’s my hope that soon we will be able to dispense with this fencing entirely. I don’t begrudge you your caution, however.”

A silence fell, in which both elves contemplated their tea and the view. They were sitting on a balcony patio on the highest level of the old spice market, at a much more expensive and less discreet restaurant than that at which Principia’s squad had met Bishop Darling a few weeks prior. It did offer dampening charms and scry blockers to keep conversations private—almost all the shops in the market’s upper levels did—but this one, in fact, was chosen specifically for its high prices and outdoor seating. It was popular among people who had too much money and desired to be seen proving it. Principia would never have been caught dead in the place, were she not under orders.

Principia had a bag of spices on the table before her, their final purchase of the afternoon and the alleged purpose of their visit to the spice market. Their purchases from two (needlessly expensive) specialty butcher shops had been wrapped and delivered, as it wasn’t wise to carry meat around on a leisurely sojourn through the city. The whole trip had begun with a visit to a pricey restaurant, where Bishop Shahai had asked the chef to come out for a word, requested a recipe for bacon-wrapped shrimp, and had Principia write it down.

Now, they sat sipping tea and being seen. They had been there a good half hour already, and the Bishop showed no signs of wanting to leave. Principia knew better than to prompt her. Besides, there were other things about which she was more curious.

“Comfortable,” she said quietly. “You know, I think if I were comfortable, I’d go completely insane.”

Shahai cracked a grin at that, a broad expression of true amusement. “Well…perhaps not. You seem to be coping well with the routine and discipline of the military.”

“At least that keeps me engaged.”

“It can. You have the advantage of good leadership. Not every captain is Shahdi Dijanerad, however, and in terms of keeping things interesting, contending with a powerful enemy can be a great boon. Give it time, Locke, and not much of that. You will come to know what true drudgery is.”

“Fantastic,” she said fatalistically. “Well. Since we’re suspending the bullroar by unspoken agreement, we both know what I’m doing here. How did you cope with the…drudgery?”

Shahai sipped her tea, gazing out over the busy market. “I joined the Legions because my mate was an Avenist. One of the last Silver Huntresses.”

Principia’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh… You’ve been here a while, then.”

“Indeed.”

“Forgive me, but… You hold the Legion rank of Captain, correct? That seems…”

“Paltry, for one who has served more than three centuries?” Shahai gave her an amused sidelong smile. “There are loopholes to be exploited in regulations that were not conceived with elves in mind. For instance, if you meet the physical requirements, there is nothing barring you from re-enlisting anew after retirement. I have cycled through the ranks three times, and taken time for myself between careers. And, of course, one can refuse promotions of a certain level; Avei does not want ranking servants who don’t desire to be there. Ultimately, though…I always come back.”

“Why?” Principia asked quietly.

Shahai continued gazing into space. “When Dizhara died… Have you ever lost someone, Principia?”

She averted her own gaze. “Y—no. I dunno. I gave someone up, once. Never have fully sorted out how I feel about that. I actually thought of going to an Izarite temple for help, if you can believe it.”

“I would strongly recommend it, if you have the desire, and the uncertainty. The disciples of Izara, like all true faithful, are good at what their goddess commands. It was explained to me the best by a shaman, though, not any priest. Healing, he told me, is about growth. It only seems like the restoration of something old; it is in truth the creation of something new in the place and the shape of something previous. Our kind are slow to heal, physically and mentally, because we are slow to grow. Because we do not live as quickly or as fervently as the mortal races, because it is our natural tendency to seek equilibrium with our environment. How do sentient beings act, on average, as overall societies? Humans adapt and conquer. Gnomes explore and seek challenge. Demons destroy. Dwarves study and create. Elves…find balance.”

She smiled faintly, pausing to take a sip of tea. “The loss of a loved one creates a hole in your being, an absence where that person is meant to exist. It’s a huge part of you, simply no longer there. You can no more function in that state than after the loss of a leg or a lung, not until you’ve had time to heal. And healing means building up more of yourself, living your life, gaining new complexity and adding new substance to your being. That hole never goes away, but as you develop, as you grow, you gradually close it over with new parts of yourself, until eventually it is only a space, and no longer a wound.” Her smile grew slightly. “And military training…”

“My DS went on and on about that in basic,” Principia said quietly. “It was one of her favorite themes. The point of training, of becoming a soldier, is to break you down…”

Shahai nodded. “…and build you back up. When I lost my partner… In the many years since, I have continued to serve because Avei, her Sisters and her Legions have more than earned my loyalty, because my life here is one of purpose in which I find great fulfillment. But I joined, initially, to become a soldier. Because I would have become anything if it meant no longer being a broken shell.”

The silence that followed was oddly calm, considering the subject matter. Shahai lifted her eyes to gaze idly at the clouded sky; Principia was frowning in thought, her stare intent but unfocused.

“Well,” Shahai said abruptly, setting down her cup, “that should be enough time. Off we go! And walk slowly, Sergeant, I wish not to dissuade anyone attempting to intercept us.”

“I see,” Principia said, rising and picking up the package of spices. “You believe Zanzayed wants something urgently enough to have me—or possibly you—followed and accosted in public?”

“I believe nothing,” Shahai replied, walking serenely toward the front of the tea room. “It is a critical error to form theories in the absence of facts. I am, however, interested to learn whether he wants something that badly. It will not reveal everything, of course, but will narrow down the possibilities, in one direction or the other. Come along.”

It was a peaceful and quiet trip through the tea room and the upper levels of the ancient fortress, of course. These were the halls haunted by the rich, the powerful, and others who were careful of their privacy. Even had the peace not been enforced, by soldiers both Imperial and Avenist, to say nothing of private security personnel, hardly anyone was reckless enough to get on the bad side of a whole swath of the city’s elite by being disruptive in their favorite haunts.

“I almost don’t know which to hope for,” Principia murmured as they descended a staircase to a wide path along a lower level. “On the one hand, if this is urgent to Zanzayed it’ll be over with faster…”

“Knowing either way enables us to end it faster on our own terms,” Shahai replied in total calm. “I understand your uncertainty, however. The manner in which this plays out may determine—”

“Your pardon, Ms. Locke?”

Both elves halted, and turned in slow unison. A portly middle-aged man stood behind them—not the same one they had seen petitioning at the Conclave’s residence, but clearly one of his ilk. Well-bred, well-heeled and well-mannered, the sort of professional toady who made excellent foot soldiers in the social wars between the upper aristocracy. He clutched his hat diffidently in front of himself, not quite concealing the loud badge pinned to his lapel: a familiar multicolored hexagon overlaid with a vaguely wing-like sigil.

“I do most humbly apologize for this interruption, ladies,” he said, bowing. “If I could beg a moment of your time on behalf of my employer, Ms. Locke?”

The two elves exchanged a look, and the Bishop permitted herself a thin, satisfied smile.

Principia cleared her throat pointedly. “That’s Sergeant Locke, thank you.”

 

“Okay,” Ruda said in the queasy silence that ensued after Shaeine finished speaking. “That is fucked up in multiple directions, and I think we can all agree that Sherwin Leduc needs his ass kicked in the worst way. But I got the impression, Teal, that there was something more urgent than this going on. Not that we can’t spare the time to go deal with it, but it doesn’t seem like a crisis.”

Teal nodded, her expression unhappy. “I’m going to let Vadrieny explain; it’s easier than me translating.” So saying, she took a half-step away from the group and in the next moment, the orange glow of hellfire was added to Fross’s silvery illumination.

The basement in which they met had a single fairy lamp, kept dim more to avoid attention than to conserve energy. The warehouse above was busily in use, which provided excellent cover for its true purpose: below was a space which had a discreet exit into a back alley at one end, and the hidden opening to a tunnel leading to one of the cellars of Dufresne Manor. It was a long tunnel and a dark one, and not their preferred method of getting to and from the city, but it did afford them a way to do so without attracting the attention that Malivette’s ostentatious carriages inevitably did.

“The demon in the cage,” Vadrieny said grimly, “is called a Rhaazke.”

“I’m not familiar with that species,” Trissiny said, frowning. “Do they resemble Vanislaads?”

“About seven feet tall,” Vadrieny said, “very muscular, mottled skin. Slitted eyes. Claws, horns, feet like mine…no wings, but they do have spaded tails. Physically quite powerful, and gifted magically. I’m not surprised you haven’t heard of them, Trissiny; I don’t know much surface-level demonology, but it would be very hard for one to get to the mortal plane ordinarily.”

“That sounds kind of…nothing like a succubus, doesn’t it?” Juniper said. “So why’s Lord Leduc think she is one?”

“Lord Leduc,” said Shaeine, “is obsessive, emotionally stunted and deprived of social interaction, to say nothing of whatever psychological damage was inflicted by his family. Keep in mind that whatever they did was enough to get them arrested by the Empire—and this in a province in which they are such an established power that rival Houses are reluctant to move against one young man living alone in a crumbling manor. In short, he is exceedingly lucky not to have summoned an actual succubus. By this point he would be her willing slave.”

“What do you know about hellhounds?” Vadrieny asked.

“True hellhounds, or khankredahgs?” Trissiny countered.

“The first group. Like the ones Melaxyna had.”

“They are impossibly rare,” Trissiny said slowly, “because it is not possible to summon them from the mortal plane. They’re native to a… Well, it’s a dimension accessible from Hell but not from here. You have to go into Hell and open a portal from there to reach them.”

“Seems like a lot of effort for an exotic pet,” Gabriel commented.

“Hellhound breath is fantastically useful!” Fross chimed. “It counters any kind of magical sleep—any sleep at all, in fact! It’s such a potent awakener that it’s used in necromancy.”

“Which doesn’t explain the relevance of this tangent,” Trissiny said pointedly.

“Rhaazke,” said Vadrieny, “are the dominant species in the dimension from which hellhounds come.”

A momentary silence fell.

“Then,” Toby said slowly, “how did Lord Leduc summon one?”

“That is the reason I…overreacted,” Vadrieny said, looking slightly abashed. It was a most peculiar expression on her ferocious features. “Such a thing is profoundly impossible; it violates every law of… Well, suffice it to say, it can’t be done, and if it’s been done, something is terrifyingly wrong. I… Didn’t know I knew that. The information was just there when I saw her. Ordinarily I have more restraint, but the shock…”

“I see,” Trissiny said, staring intently at her. “Can we expect similar to happen if you are exposed to more demonic stimuli?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Vadrieny said tersely.

“That sounds like an important development,” said Gabriel, frowning deeply, “but one we can worry about at a later date. Fross…are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“I believe so!” the pixie chimed. “But even if we could afford a telescope that size, where would we put it?”

Everyone stared at her.

After a moment she dropped lower in the air, her glow dimming noticeably. “That’s…a joke. I was joking.”

“It’s all in the timing, glitterbug,” Ruda said, not without sympathy.

Gabriel cleared his throat. “Yes, well, anyway. I’ve just had a horrible thought. We were told there are chaos-worshipping cults that keep popping up in this town, right?”

“What of it?” Juniper asked.

“Oh, no,” Trissiny whispered, her eyes widening.

Gabriel nodded. “Chaos… Trissiny, how hard is the spell to summon a succubus?”

“You’re asking her?” Ruda exclaimed. “Why would she know?”

“Because it’s immediately relevant to my calling,” said Trissiny. “And the spell is appallingly easy, which is exactly how Vanislaads keep getting onto the mortal plane. Even other demons don’t like them, and won’t let them near a hellgate from the other side. The summoning ritual is simple, versatile and requires very little power. A layperson can do it with readily available arcane materials. In fact, few actual warlocks would want an incubus or succubus around; they know how much trouble they are. It’s usually some idiot fantasizing about a beautiful, sexually insatiable servant and having no idea what they’re messing with.”

“Right,” said Gabriel, nodding again. “So we’ve got a very simple incantation, cast by a clearly skilled warlock—and one not only competent, but thorough enough to have built an elaborate, sadistic demon prison before he even started. If this guy’s a little unstable, that could well be why he won’t believe his prisoner isn’t a succubus. They’re shapeshifters, and if it’s that simple and hard to botch…”

“Then how did he botch it?” Juniper demanded.

“Chaos,” said Ariel. “A spell which has not only gone inexplicably wrong, but gone wrong in a way which is totally impossible… This is consistent with observed chaos effects. It causes magic to misfire in horribly unpredictable ways.”

“What she said,” Gabriel added. “I mean, if it was just this one thing… But here’s this impossible magical happening, and also there are chaos cults in Veilgrad? Multiple ones? No, that’s too suspicious.”

“Then…we have an avenue of investigation,” Ruda said slowly. “So we can quit wandering around talking to random assholes. Surely the Empire didn’t just kill all these cultists. The Imps have to have some imprisoned. Boots, you said they were amenable to working with us? So we go to the Imperial facility, talk with the chaos-worshiping dipshits, and hopefully learn our next move.”

“Which is good,” Vadrieny said impatiently, “but we have a more immediate problem. Rhaazke are culturally sort of like drow: matriarchal and militaristic. They are also loyal to Elilial, and emotionally stable, like hethelaxi without the berserking. In fact, those two things are related. It was their pocket dimension that Elilial launched her first campaign against Scyllith from. She bought their loyalty and keeps it by altering them so they don’t lose mental stability to infernal effects. These creatures are dangerous.”

“Well, this one is in a cage,” Ariel pointed out.

“You’re not listening!” the archdemon exclaimed. “Metal is rare in Hell—she was wearing iron bracelets. This girl is powerful, possibly royal. She has family who are doubtless frantic about her disappearance. They will be using every considerable magical resource they have to track her down. If they manage to get to this plane and find her in a cage in that imbecile’s basement, they will raze Veilgrad to the ground in their outrage. If they figure out what he intends for her, they won’t stop with the city.”

“Oh,” said Ruda. “Well. Fuck.”

“I doubt any clan of Rhaazke is a match for the Empire,” Vadrieny continued grimly. “There’s no political entity in their realm with comparable numbers or resources. But by the time they were beaten, this city and its surroundings would be infernally irradiated ruins.”

“What are the odds of them getting up here?” Trissiny asked.

“Exactly zero,” said Ariel.

“The sword is correct,” said Vadrieny, nodding. “Also zero were the odds of that one Rhaazke being here.”

“The demon is correct,” said the sword. “If this truly is a chaos effect we are dealing with, anything is possible and nothing is truly likely. The nature of chaos is unpredictability.”

“Wait, that can’t be right, though,” Gabriel protested. “For it to mess up Leduc’s summoning, the chaos effect has to be here, right? They can’t follow it from the other dimension.”

“I dunno if that’s a help,” said Fross. “Chaos is trans-dimensional by nature. The whole point of it is it’s the stuff that exists outside of reality. From between dimensions.”

“Then Leduc and his prisoner just became our most urgent priority,” Toby said flatly, his expression severe. “In addition to the important matter of correcting his…mistake…we may find evidence in Leduc Manor of whatever chaos effect is working on Veilgrad. If we’re assuming that is the root of the city’s problems.”

“Beats any other theory we have,” said Gabriel.

“Is no one else going to point it out?” Ariel complained. “We are talking about releasing a powerful, hitherto unknown type of demon whose defining characteristic seems to be that we cannot send it back where it came from. What do you intend to do with the creature once it’s free?”

“Two points,” said Vadrieny, folding her arms, “both of which I’ve already been over. Rhaazke are emotionally stable, not prone to the aggression of other demons, and they are loyal Elilinists. I can make her behave. Or at least obey.”

“She reacted strongly to Vadrieny’s brief presence,” Shaeine added. “I’m relatively certain she recognized her.”

“Also,” said Ruda, glaring at Ariel, “let’s keep in mind we are talking about a sentient being—a person—who is being kept in a sadistic prison in an insane pervert’s basement, being tortured into compliance so he can make her his concubine. It is immediately morally necessary that someone put a stop to this horseshit, preferably while also stuffing Sherwin Leduc so far simultaneously up his own ass and down his own throat that he ends up a living portal to Hell.”

“I am willing to acknowledge demons as people strictly on a case-by-case basis.”

“Hey!” Gabriel snapped. “Do you wanna go back in the Crawl?”

“Well! Let us hope Rhaazke are more grateful than half-hethelaxi.”

“Enough!” Toby exclaimed. “There’s more to discuss, but Ruda is correct. This calls for immediate action, both tactically and morally. We can hammer out details on the way. Right now, I think we need to go have a talk with Lord Leduc.”

“You can talk,” said Trissiny, turning and stalking toward the door, one hand on her sword. “I have something else for him.”

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9 – 2

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The Rail caravans slowed dramatically as they approached the interchange at Veilgrad. It was a complex system; the town was not overly large, but it was a hub, connecting Rail lines that extended west to Calderaas, southwest toward the Tira Valley and the capital, north into the Badlands and eventually the border of the dwarven kingdom of Vjarstadt, and northeast into the Stalrange itself. The interchanges between these lines demanded such precision that speed limits were considerably reduced for miles out from the station, and by the time caravans reached the town itself they were traveling no faster than the average horse-drawn stagecoach.

There had never been a collision between two caravans since the founding of the Rail network; its enchanters went to enormous lengths to ensure this. Though the fact was not widely known outside the Imperial bureau that administered the Rails, the device from which they had been developed was originally an experimental weapon. Using them as transportation had been a stroke of insight initially laughed at, its designers conceiving only one purpose for any object moving that fast.

Unlike the Wyrnrange far to the west, which rose gradually out of the plains by way of rolling hills growing ever steeper as they approached the peaks, the Stalrange ascended abruptly out of the flat territory at its edge. Eons ago, it had bordered an inland sea, and slightly less distantly in the past, a deep swamp. The Great Plains were formed of sediment from beneath those long-ago bodies of water. This fact, plus the unusual geographic feature on which it sat, had made Veilgrad a place of great strategic import for the entirety of recorded history. The town stood atop a long peninsular outcropping of stone extending into the plain and towering twenty yards above it. Once its walls had been completed, the ancient fortress city of Veilgrad had been considered nigh-impregnable, one of the best-defended locations on the continent.

That was then; this was now.

The city had long since outgrown its walls, and roads now tracked up into the surrounding mountainside, where little pockets of construction were visible amid the surviving stands of Stalrange pines, overlooking the old city from above. More spread out from the base of the peninsula, patches of younger urban sprawl slowly creeping across the plain. The Rail platform was surrounded by the largest of these, due west of the farthest tip of Veilgrad and facing its ancient main gate.

The caravan eased to a halt, its hatches hissed open, and Professor Rafe bounded nimbly forth, planting his feet widely on the flagstones of the large platform as if he expected to be blown down by an errant gust of wind. He placed his fists on his hips and drew in a deep breath, his thin chest swelling.

“Don’t do it!” Toby exclaimed, dragging himself out of the hatch with a little less grace, still off-kilter from the Rail ride. “Don’t—”

“BEHOLD!” the Professor roared, throwing wide his arms to embrace the Rail platform, the looming shape of Veilgrad beyond, and the several dozen people crossing the area. Nearly all of them stopped, turning to stare.

Veilgrad was an important city, but not a large one, and was so far from the center of Tiraan civilization that its name was a euphemism for distant, unsettled places. These were not cosmopolitan urbanites to be unfazed by the eccentric professor, as their stares indicated.

“You stand upon the precipice of Veilgrad,” Rafe boomed, turning his back to the onlookers and brandishing a fist at his disembarking students with a melodramatic grimace. “The most eeeevil place in the Tiraan Empire! Step carefully, my children, for you shall never again see such a wretched hive of… Oh, what’s the expression I’m looking for…”

“Scum and villainy?” Gabriel suggested, rubbing his lower back.

“Arquin!” Rafe exclaimed in horror. “You can’t just say that about a place, all these people can hear you! Honestly, boy, were you raised in a barn?”

Gabriel stared at him. “…this is gonna be the trip where I finally shoot you, isn’t it.”

“You have been brought here,” the Professor intoned, “to uncover the putrid perfidy at the very heart of the—oh, hey, our ride’s here! Form a line, kids, let’s be civilized about this.”

Most of the onlookers had already backed away or gone on about their business, but several were still watching the University party, none with friendly expressions. The students drifted together in a knot as they followed their professor toward the edge of the platform.

A matched pair of stagecoaches were just pulling up at the side of the road running past the outdoor Rail terminal. They were glossy, ostentatious things, lacquered a gleaming black with a crest embossed in a lighter shade of black—or a very dark gray—on their doors, barely visible and that only because it was a matte interruption in the gleaming finish. The device was a heavily stylized letter M, bracketed by laurels bristling with overlarge thorns. Each coach was drawn by two matched horses, all four coal-black and all groomed to a glossy shine. Altogether the vehicles were a portrait of wealth and grandeur straight out of the last century.

Each was driven by a lovely young woman perched on the driver’s seat, reins in hand. They didn’t look alike enough to be related, but both were clearly of the local Stalweiss stock, being tall, pale and fair-haired. Both were attired in expensive-looking gowns with high collars, which appeared to be of identical cut, though the one in front was red while her counterpart wore dark green. They smiled in unison at Professor Rafe as he approached, the woman in red lifting a hand to wave.

Trissiny, however, had come to a stop, staring at the coaches. Beside her, Toby did the same; Gabriel squinted as if unsure what he was looking at.

“What’s the matter?” Teal asked.

“Something’s weird about those horses…” Gabriel muttered, frowning. “I’m not sure… They give me this feeling.”

“Congratulations,” Trissiny said tersely. “Apparently paladins of Vidius have the ability to sense evil.”

“I sense no evil,” Shaeine said serenely. “Your reactions suggest, however, that they are somehow in opposition to your gods. Are they perhaps demonic?”

“Well, they aren’t moving,” Ruda noted. “They just stand. Real horses look…alive. Those could be stuffed.”

“Not demonic,” said the driver in the lead coach, smiling languidly down at them. “Undead. Don’t worry, students, they are entirely harmless; there is no contagious element in their condition, and they’re quite docile. Kindly refrain from throwing divine magic at them. They would be difficult to replace.” Her smile faded slightly as she finished the admonition, and she fixed her stare on Gabriel.

“Professor,” Trissiny said tersely, “what have you gotten us into?”

“Now, there you go, being rude again,” Rafe admonished. “And here we’ve only just arrived! Honestly, I can’t decide whether you kids needed more spankings or more hugs growing up. Ruby! Jade! It’s such a delight to see your lovely faces again! Ladies, it has been far too long, and for once I’m not referring to anything of mine.”

“Good morning, Professor Rafe,” the woman in green said with a smile that appeared quite genuine. “It’s good to see you again, too. The Mistress will be anxious to catch up.”

“All right, little ducklings, in you go,” Rafe said briskly, clapping his hands and rubbing them together. “Sort yourselves as you will; they’ll be a little roomy with just four each, but we can’t all crowd into one. Gabe, your coach isn’t here yet. You want us to wait and see you off?”

“Nah, you guys go on ahead,” Gabriel said absently, still staring at the chillingly immobile horses. An enormous horsefly had landed on the ear of one, eliciting not a twitch. Moments later, the insect tumbled off, lifeless.

“Whoah, hang on, what’s this?” Ruda demanded. “Why’s Arquin not coming with us?”

“A stipulation of our hostess, I’m afraid,” Rafe said solemnly. “You are all welcome in her house, with the specific exception of Gabriel. Did I not know better, I might think she’d met him at some point.”

Toby folded his arms. “Then I don’t believe we are welcome there, either. Or…I’m sorry, guys, I shouldn’t speak for you. But for my part—”

“Guys, guys!” Gabriel said, finally turning from his study of the horses to hold up both hands calmingly. “It’s okay. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you this; Tellwyrn’s orders. This isn’t a demonblood prejudice thing, the person we’re meeting actually has a pretty solid reason not to want me around. I… Ugh, I hate keeping you in the dark, but Tellwyrn was, you know, emphatic. As only she can be. You’re not supposed to hear about it till you get there.”

“Well, this is increasingly bullshit,” Ruda said acidly.

“I have a bad feeling about it,” Teal said, frowning. “Gabe…are you sure? If you know what’s going on, are we walking into a trap?”

“What utter nonsense,” Rafe huffed. “Our hostess is an alumnus of the University; she would never harm you. Would never have reason to, and even if she did, she knows firsthand what Arachne would do about it. You’ll be safe as houses!”

“The manor is one of the most secure and defensible structures in the entire province,” said the woman in red, presumably Ruby. “And the Mistress’s hospitality is second to none. We apologize for Mr. Arquin’s exclusion.”

“I don’t think I want to stay with someone whom one of our friends has to be afraid of,” Trissiny said flatly.

“That’s not it,” Fross said. “She’s afraid of him.”

There was a beat of silence, all of them turning to stare up at the pixie. Rafe rolled his eyes dramatically.

“Put it together, guys,” Fross continued. “She’s got undead horses and doesn’t want the Hand of the god of death on her property. It’s pretty obvious, right? This Mistress is undead herself. Haven’t several of the professors mentioned a vampire who was once a student at the University?”

“That does it,” Trissiny announced, folding her arms. “I believe I will stay wherever Gabriel is staying.”

“And this is exactly why you were not to be informed until you got there,” Rafe said in exasperation. “Honestly, kids, Malivette is just about the most cuddly person I know. Isn’t she, girls?”

“The cuddliest,” Jade said solemnly, her eyes sparkling with repressed mirth.

“But,” Rafe continued, scowling at Trissiny, “some of you are just bound to be on the defensive about her little condition. Because some of you are thoughtless and prone to making inappropriate snap judgments.”

“Hey,” Toby said, his voice quiet but firm. “Don’t glare at her; any of us with any sense would object to this. You are asking us to stay in the home of a vampire. Someone who, whatever her intentions, thinks of the lot of us as food. This trip is supposed to be at least a week, right? We’re expected to sleep in that place?”

“Um, point of order,” Fross chimed. “Ruda’s the only one who’s in the slightest danger from a vampire.”

“Everyone is in danger from a vampire!” Trissiny exclaimed.

“Well, not really, no,” the pixie said reasonably. “They can’t eat elves or half-elves, the inherent fae magic reacts badly with them. They can’t eat clerics or paladins; even trying would result in an automatic smiting from their patron gods. And they definitely can’t eat dryads or pixies.”

“Ain’t it a thrill to be me,” Ruda said fatalistically.

“Congratulations,” Gabriel said solemnly. “You now are in possession of the slightest glimpse of what my life is like. If you want to get even more insight, I could fucking stab you.”

“Children!” Rafe bellowed. “Enough! We are going to stay in the home of my dear friend and former student Malivette, for a variety of excellent reasons which I will explain when we’re no longer out in public creating a scene!”

“He’s getting onto us about creating a scene?” Juniper muttered.

“And if you fail to comply with this directive,” Rafe continued ominously, “I will toss my ass right back in that caravan, return to Last Rock and complain to Arachne that you little buggers are being difficult.”

“She’d make fun of you for that for the next ten years,” Teal pointed out.

“Yeah?” the Professor said smugly, folding his arms and smirking. “I’m sure that’ll make you feel better while she’s kicking your asses up and down the mountainside.”

“I hate every part of this,” Trissiny muttered, unconsciously gripping her sword.

“And if you didn’t make a point of hating half the crap you encounter, Avelea, somebody might care about that,” Rafe said, grinning.

“Guys,” Gabriel said soothingly. “I promise you, it is okay. Tellwyrn wouldn’t send us to someone who can’t be trusted, and I fully understand this Malivette’s concern, all right? All it would take is one little poke from a valkyrie’s scythe and she’d be dust; she’d never even see it coming. Wouldn’t you be worried about that?”

“I note,” Shaeine observed, “that it is you and not she who is being asked to extend trust in that regard.”

He shrugged. “That’s true, but come on. Is it really that unfair? She’s the one with the manor she’s letting us use, and an established life here. Well, unlife. Whatever.”

“Are you sure you’ll be okay on your own?” Toby said worriedly. “I mean…leaving you completely alone out here…”

“Oh, that’s very nice, thank you,” Ariel commented.

“Yes, yes, you’re great company,” Gabriel said soothingly, patting her pommel. “Particularly when you don’t talk. Anyhow, guys, you don’t need to worry about me.” He grinned smugly. “In fact, I might be the only one who’s gonna be put in better digs than you guys.”

 

“But why dragons?”

“There are several acceptable responses to receiving orders, Sergeant,” Captain Dijanerad said mildly, not slowing her pace. “None of them contain the word why.”

“Captain,” Principia said in a tone barely above a growl, “I have spent the last month vigorously drilling and training my squad as ordered. In keeping with our mandate we have been extensively studying the Church and its member cults so as to serve in a diplomatic capacity with other faiths. My girls have done a damn fine job, too, considering how little time they’ve had to work on it; I have every confidence that the High Commander will be pleased with our results. Or at least I would if we got to put that into practice. Instead, we’re apparently going to deal with dragons! Nobody knows how to do that! Why are we any better than any random squad?”

“Yes, yes,” Dijanerad said with a grin. “You’ve trained specifically in one field and are now being sent off to do a random task that has no bearing on your specialization. Welcome to the military, Locke.”

“Captain, permission to kvetch!”

“Denied. I think.” The Captain glanced curiously at her. “What is that, orcish?”

“Not exactly,” Principia muttered.

Dijanerad came to a stop, forcing Principia to follow suit. They were in an out-of-the-way intersection of the Temple’s halls, not far from the exit to the rear parade grounds around which the Ninth Cohort were bunked.

“Squad One has drawn this assignment,” the Captain said, “because I recommended you for it. I have, in fact, seen the way you’ve been training your squad, Sergeant Locke, and taken notice of your results. To be frank there was some initial disagreement among the cohort’s officers about whether you would take your position at all seriously, but that, at least, you’ve put to bed. Now it only remains to be seen how well the results will stack up in a real-world situation.”

“So we’re being sent into a real-world situation that has nothing to do with what we’ve trained for?”

“Locke, shut up. I’ve also taken note of the way you and your girls have been repairing your relations with the rest of the cohort, which is no small thing considering you went overnight from being the resident punchlines to having the much-coveted designation One. You can do diplomacy. The basic principles are the same whoever you’re dealing with, be they fellow soldiers, priests, or yes, dragons. I recommended you because I am confident that you can do this. The High Commander either things so as well or places a lot more value on my opinion than I thought, and frankly I suspect it’s the former.”

Principia drew in a deep breath and shook her head. “Veth’na alaue…”

“Watch it,” Dijanerad warned. “I’m a career soldier, Locke; I speak only Tanglish but I can cuss fluently in every dialect used on this continent. That is approaching a type and degree of obscenity I’d have to reprimand you for.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Principia said tersely. “Captain…with apologies for using the word again…why are Legionnaires being sent to deal with this at all?”

“They aren’t,” Dijanerad said, resuming her walk, “at least not officially or directly. The city’s only just come down from a state of alert; our word of what the dragons want is less than a hour old. We don’t know enough to make any detailed plans. But the bones of it is they’re establishing some kind of government and want to open diplomatic relations with the Empire. If that’s what they’re doing, the cult of Avei has an immediate interest in making similar contact.”

“I have a very hard time picturing dragons converting to Avenism, Captain.”

“There’s a lot more an organized religion can do with people than convert them, Locke. Besides, the Sisterhood is both a civil and military organization; we don’t have the option of ignoring the formation of what is sure to be another major world power. It makes sense to get on good terms with them if possible; the alternative would be a nightmare. And that’s all I have to say on the subject, because your specific orders are to present yourselves to Bishop Shahai, who will be heading up this effort, and my analysis of the situation is irrelevant. Hers is what you need to care about. Officially, on the books, you are to be merely her bodyguards; unofficially, she requested women who could be called upon to do more than a soldier’s duty in dicey political circumstances. That’s how you, in particular, ended up nominated for this.”

“Interim Bishop Shahai,” the elf murmured.

“You know very well how she is to be addressed while she’s doing the job, and once again you are flirting with insubordination. Bat one more eyelash in its direction and I’ll be obligated to rip it off your face and feed it to you, is that clear?”

“Clear, ma’am. They aren’t ready for this,” Principia said more quietly. “I don’t mean to sound insubordinate; I’m concerned for the state of the mission if it’s given to us. I have the highest opinion of the women in my squad, and of their skills, but the fact is we don’t have the experience for something of this magnitude. These stakes. Are there no more seasoned units available?”

“Yes,” Dijanerad replied, “but they have not been given this assignment. You have. These are your orders, Sergeant, and I have discussed them with you as much as I intend to, and this much only because your unique situation demands greater understanding than an average soldier needs to do her job. You need to not be in the habit of questioning orders this way, Locke; keep that firmly in mind next time you’re given a mission. You will assemble your squad and report to Bishop Shahai’s office at fourteen hundred hours; she will inform you of what she expects. For the duration of this assignment, which means until I tell you otherwise, I am placing you directly under the Bishop’s command.”

“Captain—”

“That will be all, Locke. Dismissed.”

They emerged into the courtyard, finally, and Dijanerad stopped and gave the sergeant a flat look. Principia saluted and said the only thing she could.

“Yes, ma’am.”

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8 – 25

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“Uh, yeah,” Juniper said, nonplussed. “We were all there when you got it.”

“No, I mean…” Gabriel let out an irritated sigh and nudged the sword with his hand. “Hey, c’mon. You’re embarrassing me.”

“He’s talking to his sword,” Fross stage whispered.

“If you’re certain this is a good idea.”

The voice was feminine, oddly resonant and actually rather pleasant, but it made everyone at the table lean back in surprise. Gabriel smiled smugly for a second, then his expression faded into awkwardness.

“So,” he drawled, “yeah. Belated introductions. Ariel, everyone. Everyone, Ariel.”

“I’m already quite well acquainted with them all.”

“That sword talks,” Juniper said, staring at it.

“And there’s that razor intellect for which you are so well known.”

“Hey!” Gabriel snapped, grabbing the hilt. “Be nice to my friends!”

“Of course. My apologies.”

“Yes, she talks,” he added, scowling, “and sometimes she’s kind of a jerk. She’s smart, though, and helpful.”

“How long, exactly, has this been going on?” Trissiny asked, staring at Ariel.

He sighed. “Presumably, she’s always been able to talk. I didn’t learn about this until after the battle this spring.”

“How long after?” she asked sharply.

Gabriel winced. “It, uh… The day everyone left campus. That’s when she started… Well, in fact, she sort of began lecturing me.”

“Surely you’re not going to contend that some lecturing was not needed.”

“That long?” Trissiny exclaimed, staring at him. “All summer?”

“It’s not like…” Gabe sighed again, planting an elbow on the table and leaning his forehead into his hand. “Okay, this is going to sound pretty dumb.”

“That’s okay!” Fross said reassuringly. “It’s never stopped you before!”

“Even the pixie is doing it,” Ariel commented. “You are truly the designated comic relief in this group.”

“Hush,” he said irritably. “Look, I wasn’t trying to keep this secret, okay? It’s just that… When I first found out, I sort of… Needed time to process. We talked a good bit, alone, and she helped me a lot with my magic. I mean, both my enchanting and getting to handle the divine. And the longer it went on, the harder it was to think of a reason to bring it up. I just… It wasn’t supposed to be secret or anything, it just turned into a vicious cycle where I couldn’t think of a way to say ‘hey, my sword can talk!’”

“There’s a method I like to use in situations like this,” Ruda said. “I’d say ‘hey, my sword can talk!’”

“Thank you, Ruda.”

“You got it, Arquin. Always here for ya.”

“She…helps you with magic?” Toby asked, peering quizzically at the sword.

“In fact, that is my primary gift,” Ariel said. “I require energy from the aura of a user to be fully active. Gabriel has a great deal of magic in his, but for most of the period after retrieving me from the Crawl—to which, I note, you have brought me back and which I will thank you never to do again—I did not choose to speak up because the power around him as predominantly infernal in nature. I would rather not have that gunking up my metaphysical works, as it were.”

“Wow,” Ruda commented. “Once you get her going, she really gets going.”

“Gabriel does not recall my first actual help to him, as he was in a hethelax fit at the time. It was during the battle of the hellgate; I altered the method by which his infernal aura manifested in berserking, allowing him to remain lucid and make conscious use of that power. I must say he did quite well with that, once it was done.”

“You enchanted him?” Fross exclaimed, aghast. “That’s incredibly dangerous! You could have killed him, or much, much worse!”

“Nonsense. Enchantment of sentient beings is dangerous because of the principle of recursive subjectivity, which does not apply to me. I am not a person; I do not have the psychology of a sentient being, and do not perform subjective mental processes. That is why I cannot do magic on my own, even when fully charged as I am now by long exposure to a powerful partner’s aura. I was able to make tweaks to Gabriel’s infernal power without risking damage to him precisely because I can apply spell effects using his own energy without being subjected to the irrational whims of his subconscious mind. This is what makes me a priceless aid to any spellcaster.”

“And so modest!” Ruda said cheerfully.

“So…you changed your berserking?” Teal asked, frowning at Gabriel. “You don’t lose control anymore?”

“Actually, no; she says it was just for the one time,” he replied.

“And we will not be doing that again,” Ariel added firmly. “That was a crisis. Meddling with infernal power under any circumstances is a last desperate resort to be employed only in the lack of any other options.”

“Well, she does seem to have sense,” Trissiny said with grudging approval.

“As Gabriel is an arcanist who now possesses a considerable wellspring of divine energy, dealing with the infernal at all is off the table.”

“Gabriel is the one making the decisions in this partnership,” he said sharply.

“Of course, but Gabriel does, thankfully, possess the rudimentary common sense to follow excellent advice when he hears it, which is why this partnership has been largely successful despite his lack of inherent wisdom.”

“I like this sword!” Ruda cackled.

“You want her?” Gabriel asked sourly.

“I would be wasted on a non-magic user,” Ariel said with clear disdain. “As I was saying, making deliberate use of infernal power is most unwise. In fact, I believe we may be able to access his new divine powers to cut off the berserking effect entirely, though he has been reluctant to experiment.”

“That would be some of that wisdom you say I don’t have,” Gabriel snapped. “All right, that’s my thing on the table. Who’s next?”

 

“There really wasn’t much more to it, after that,” Merry said, her eyes on the steaming teacup she held in both hands. “The magistrate really chewed me up one side and down the other… But in an odd way, I think he had a soft spot for cases like mine. Anyhow, he didn’t throw the book at me; once he got done explaining what a dumbass I was, he made a pretty serious pitch for the Legions. The actual sentence for the trouble I caused would’ve just been a couple months in a cell, but he seemed to think this was what I needed to get over some of my more silly ideas. By the time he was done talking, I couldn’t really argue, so…here I am.”

She shrugged, took a sip of tea and set the cup down again. “I was gonna go off and save the world, you know? Or at least a village or something. Glory and riches, maybe a handsome prince, and generally not get stuck grinding myself down to a numb little lump of coal in pointless, menial jobs the way both my parents did. I was a stupid fucking child, is all.” She finally raised her eyes to look at them. “And…that was the last time I really liked myself. Here… It’s all about keeping my head down, doing the work, not making waves. Honestly, on a twisted level I’ve been enjoying being put upon by Syrinx. That was… There’s something noble about having an enemy who’s actually evil.”

“Words like ‘evil’ are tricky,” Principia said quietly. “I’d be careful about throwing that around. Most enemies are just people who have their reasons.”

“And this one?” Merry asked flatly, turning to stare at her.

Principia grinned. “No, I think you’re right. She actually is pretty evil. Just…general advice. I’m the boss now, I have to say stuff like that.”

“Well, apparently I’m still a stupid child at heart,” Merry said with an answering smile, “so maybe I have to listen to it.”

“I sort of get where you’re coming from.” Farah shifted in her seat when they all turned to look at her, but continued. “I was an acolyte at a Nemitite temple, and…I really loved it. I felt called to it. Honestly, after my enlistment is over, I think I’ll probably go back there. But… I was studying under Aleesa Asherad, who was the first victim of the priest killer last year.” She lowered her eyes. “You can’t imagine what that was like. Aleesa was one of the best people I ever knew. Intelligent, but also wise, and such a good teacher… It completely shattered us, all of us. It was like the whole temple lost its heart. And I…” She gulped, grimacing. “Well, I had a crush on this guy, and I tried to, uh, turn to him for comfort and got rejected. That was the excuse I used to leave the temple… But the truth was, I was just afraid. It was supposed to have been a safe place. How could something like that just happen? I…felt weak, and helpless, and didn’t want to anymore. I actually tried to join the Thieves’ Guild.”

“You what?” Casey exclaimed in surprise.

Farah smiled bitterly. “Yeah, well, who’s less afraid than the Eserites, after all?”

“Eserites feel fear the same as anyone else,” Principia noted. “We just turn it into motivation.”

“Is that doctrine?” Farah asked curiously. “Because Bishop Darling said almost exactly the same thing.”

“So you went to Darling?” Principia asked.

“Yeah… He paid for a really good shrine for Aleesa at the Temple of Vidius. I don’t even know why, but it made me think of him. He, uh, was very tactful, but he rather strongly suggested I was not a good fit for the Guild. But he did point me at the Legion.” She gazed thoughtfully into the distance. “And you know something, he was absolutely right. I…like this. I don’t plan to spend my whole life at it, like I said, but… I don’t feel afraid anymore. I feel strong. I know there are things in the world that I can’t begin to fight, but the Legion’s taught me how to stand up and fight, win or lose, if it needs to be done. I already got what I needed from my enlistment, and I’m very willing to give my all to Avei in exchange.”

She stopped, staring fiercely around at them. Merry raised her eyebrows in mild surprise, but the others smiled back.

“Well,” Principia said after a moment. “I guess that leads us to the ones we’re all really curious about.”

 

“It was at the battle,” Toby said, staring down at his folded hands. “At the worst part. I didn’t know where anyone was, I thought Triss had been killed… I was alone, demons were coming at me, and…I snapped. I was so angry. I let it out at them with sheer divine magic.”

“With the greatest of respect to your pacifism, Toby,” Shaeine said with a gentle smile, “I cannot think of a more understandable reaction in that situation.”

“It’s not that,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s… I felt the light blaze up in me, in a way I’ve never felt it before. So much… It seemed like it filled the whole sky. Like once I called on it, I wasn’t even in control anymore. Just for a moment, though. And when it faded…they were gone. All of them. Dozens, just…vaporized. Reduced to ashes.” He closed his eyes. “In two seconds I destroyed dozens of sentient beings.”

Gabriel reached over to place a hand on his shoulder.

“I know you guys have been worried about me,” Toby continued, opening his eyes again, but still looking downward. “In class, I have not been doing well making things out of light. It’s just… I can’t stop seeing that. My power, used to kill and destroy. Ever since, I’ve felt this…loathing. When I try to touch the light, part of me runs away from it. I don’t know what to do.”

“Have you spoken to Omnu about this?” Trissiny asked quietly.

“Of course,” he said, looking up at her. “It’s… I don’t know how it is with you and Avei, but under most circumstances, Omnu doesn’t communicate with me in words. That requires a ritual, which requires a sacred space… Well, generally, I can feel him there, and he’s a kind of emotional presence. When he wants to express something, it’s just these washes of feeling through my mind. It’s very…well, it’s beautiful, generally. But with this… All I get from him is comfort. Calm. A sense that it’ll be all right. And I don’t know how he can think that. I feel awful, because it’s so stupidly selfish to make such demands of one’s god, but it’s like…he won’t offer me what I need.”

“Gods, as a rule,” said Shaeine, “when they offer help or communication at all, do offer what we need. When what they give is in conflict with our expectations, it is not generally they who are wrong.”

“I’ve thought of that, too,” Toby said, grimacing. “I just feel…stuck.”

“Toby,” Trissiny said with a thoughtful frown, “did you feel burned at all, when you flared up at the demons?”

“No,” he said, frowning in response. “In fact, I thought that was odd. It was a huge amount of power. It should have burned me, at least a little.”

“It should have utterly incinerated you,” she said. Toby blinked at her in surprise. “I know that spell, Toby, though I’ve never heard of an Omnist cleric of any kind using it. The divine nova is… Well, you know what it is, you were there. Had you done that in a crowd of people rather than demons, it would have healed everything any of them suffered, right down to any scars they had. Two Hands of Avei have died doing that.”

“Died?” he whispered.

“It has to do with the nature of our faith, and of Avei’s support,” she said seriously. “It’s more power than any mortal can safely channel. Avei’s power is granted to us as a weapon, but only in proportions that mortals can bear. To call on her as…as magical artillery, that’s a tremendously serious thing. She has not forbidden it, but given us doctrines warning against such reliance on sheer firepower, and imposed a steep price if it is to be called upon. Only a Hand or a high priestess even has the right to make that request, and she knows, in so doing, that she is offering her life in exchange for calling down the goddess’s wrath upon her enemies.”

“Boots, I know it’s been a while since I’ve made fun of you for it,” Ruda commented, “but I feel it’s appropriate here to state that your religion is fucked up.”

Trissiny glanced at her and sighed before turning her attention back to Toby. “The point is, it’s not just Avenists who have used that spell. Salyrite clerics have also managed it, but Salyrene has different rules. She simply won’t do it under the majority of circumstances, but when she does, it’s using her clerics as a focal point while also protecting them. They always came away unharmed.”

“So…” Toby frowned deeply. “Wait. You’re saying…”

“I am saying,” she replied, “you did not kill those demons. Omnu did.”

There was quiet around the table for a long moment. The sounds of talk, laughter and clattering dishes from the Visage’s other patrons washed over them, leaving no impression.

“That can’t be,” Toby whispered. “Omnu is peace. Omnu is life.”

“They were demons,” Teal said quietly.

Toby shook his head stubbornly. “That shouldn’t matter! Omnu has used his power to defend against demons, but that kind of aggression…”

“What, exactly, is involved in getting an actual conversation with Omnu?” Gabriel asked, tilting his head.

“Well… The ritual itself isn’t too hard. It just needs to be performed at a major temple. It’d have to be the one in Tiraas, there aren’t any others of sufficient importance to the faith on this continent. I would have to have the use of the main sanctuary to myself for a few hours. I really hate to create that kind of imposition to others of the faith…”

“Honestly, man, I think you really need to do that,” Gabriel said seriously. “Aside from the fact that this is bothering you… Even not being Omnist, I get where you’re coming from. This looks like weird behavior from him. If you’re gonna be his Hand in this world, you need to understand what he’s doing, especially when he’s using you to do it.”

“I suspect that monks at the temple will not begrudge you its use,” Shaeine added.

“For what it may be worth,” said Trissiny, “different rules apply to demons. Against demonic forces, ‘no quarter’ is considered acceptable terms of engagement for both the Silver Legions and most mortal armies.”

“Yes, yes,” Ruda said, rolling her eyes. “Grr, smite, stab…”

“Knock it off,” Trissiny said curtly. “The reality is you generally can’t take demons prisoner. They are psychologically incapable of behaving, for one thing; in the rare event they will even try to surrender, they don’t stay that way for long. They’ll attack the moment they get a chance, and often before there’s a reasonable chance; it’s like they just can’t stand not fighting. Also, mortal forces simply cannot properly care for them. It takes a warlock to keep a demon on the mortal plane in anything like good shape, and most warlocks banish their familiars back to the infernal plane when not using them precisely because it’s difficult. Our healing is lethal to them; many species can’t even eat the food in this dimension. There are two which are known to be allergic to water. Killing them is not only the sole possible response, it’s generally the only mercy we can offer their kind.”

“That may all be true,” Gabriel muttered, “but it still has disturbing overtones.”

“I never claimed it didn’t,” Trissiny said grimly. “It’s not as if we long for combat with demons, Gabe. If Avei’s forces had our way, they would just stay in their realm, where they belong.”

“That’s…actually sort of good to know,” Teal said quietly. She fell silent when the others turned to look at her, but Shaeine squeezed her hand encouragingly. “It…I… From the same battle… I gave Vadrieny full freedom to fight. However she needed to.”

“Oh,” said Fross. “Ouch.”

“Yeah,” Teal said glumly. “It… Well, it was a hell of a thing. Pun not intended. She… One guy actually tried to surrender. He was dead before he finished getting the word out. I mean, I understand war, but that’s…y’know…murder. I had to watch it from very close.”

“Teal,” Trissiny said quietly, “based on what Vadrieny knew of the hellgate, she has intact general knowledge of demons?”

“Yeah, I see where this is going,” Teal said, “and yes…she’s said sort of what you did, that demons can’t be trusted to surrender. I… Well, I wasn’t sure how much credence to give that. She didn’t explain it in detail the way you did, and… She’s been pretty offended that I have a hard time with it. It’s hard having a relationship like this, see? We can’t lie or keep secrets. It’s very intimate, but it’s really dicey when there’s any kind of intractable conflict.”

“Can I make a suggestion?” Trissiny asked.

“Um,” Ruda said pointedly.

“Please,” said Teal, nodding at Trissiny. “I respect your opinion.”

Trissiny nodded in return. “Well, I’m sorry to have to say it, Teal, but in this case, my opinion is that you haven’t been very fair toward Vadrieny.”

“…okay, that’s not what I was expecting to hear,” Gabriel admitted.

“I don’t mean just this, the difference of opinion about the demons,” Trissiny went on. “From what she said to me, that night on the lawn… Vadrieny has gone to great lengths and bent over backward to accommodate you and your way of thinking, which is inherently alien to her. And really, that makes perfect sense, considering you have to live on this plane, in mortal society. But…have you done anything to tend to her needs?”

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean,” Teal said a little stiffly.

“I’m not talking about demonic stuff,” Trissiny said quickly. “Obviously, no, it’s best not to get her involved in anything like that. But Teal…she’s a warrior. I know how you feel about violence, but take it from someone who knows… If you have the skill and the inclination to fight, sometimes the best way you can express your care for the people you love is to defend them. And let’s face it, we all lead interesting lives. We can all do with some defending from time to time.”

“What are you suggesting?” Teal asked.

Trissiny smiled. “Well… You’ve been practicing with us, learning to use martial arts to fight without inflicting harm. When we’ve fought in our various adventures, Vadrieny has always been careful not to hurt anyone…I mean, before the hellgate, anyway. Isn’t there grounds for a compromise, there?”

“You want to train the archdemon?” Gabriel asked, his eyebrows shooting upward.

Trissiny shrugged. “I’m actually not sure how… I mean, she could seriously hurt someone. But… What if we taught her to fight, too? I’ve seen her fight, it’s all slashing and screeching. I’ve had the thought more than once that she doesn’t retain much of your muscle memory.”

“Boy, is that the truth,” Teal said, grimacing.

“I think this is actually a really good idea,” said Toby, looking more animated. “It’s a way to let Vadrieny be herself without bringing her into conflict with the demands of mortal life. And that can only be good. She deserves to be appreciated and accepted, too, and to be able to express her own nature.”

“Yeah, but how?” Ruda asked. “Boots had the right of it. Training in any kind of martial arts involves some inevitable injuries. In her case, that would almost certainly make someone extremely dead.”

“Um.” Juniper raised a hand timidly. “I could spar with her?”

Everyone turned to stare at her.

“That would sort of help me, too,” the dryad went on. “I don’t have anybody I can safely spar with, for the same reason. I watch you guys practicing, and I really get the feeling all my exercises aren’t giving me the same level of experience you get. Also, Professor Ezzaniel kind of harps on that.”

“That leaves us with the same question of how, though,” said Fross. “Sure, you’re in no danger from any kind of demon, but… If she so much as touches you, poof.”

“A countermeasure could be arranged,” Ariel chimed in. “At issue is that Vadrieny’s physical form is a manifestation of infernal magic and would be nullified by contact with the dryad. I’ve not heard of this specific measure being exercised to protect a demon—I’m sure I needn’t explain why—but there is a precedent of using the Circles of Interaction to do similar, preventing the annihilation effect without actually augmenting the power being protected. It’s difficult magic, though, and as I said, there are no standing measures to use it specifically for the infernal…”

“Bet you anything Tellwyrn could work something up,” Gabriel mused.

“She probably would, too,” Ruda added. “It’s explicitly for educational purposes, right? If nothing else, we could go to Ezzaniel first. Bet he’d be fuckin’ delighted to be able to get these two into the ring. He’ll pitch the idea hard.”

“Guys,” Teal said quietly, tears glistening in her eyes despite her broad smile, “thank you. So much. From both of us.”

 

“I had a bad feeling about it from the beginning,” Casey said, shaking her head. For all the difficult nature of her story, she seemed totally calm. “I mean… That night. Even when she was offering to sponsor me, I was seeing her running Andy through. He was seventeen, and no threat to her, and she just put a sword in him and grinned like she was having the time of her damn life. All three of the other Bishops, being sane people, ripped into her over that, and she shrugged it off like they were being melodramatic or something. Yeah, I knew going in that Basra had something truly rotten in her core, but she was offering me a way out. The Church had my family; the Empire had managed to get custody of us kids, but… Everything was up in the air and it was looking very likely that everyone I ever knew was going to be imprisoned for the rest of their lives, at least. As a Legionnaire, I could gain some credibility, save myself, and maybe work toward getting some of the others out.” She shrugged. “I guess with my upbringing, I’m sort of predisposed to be willing to make deals with devils. Basra Syrinx just might be the most dangerous thing I’ve ever had to contend with, though.”

“Well,” Merry said after a short silence, “that really puts things in perspective for us, I guess. It’s just, it’s a hell of a thing, Elwick. You get that, right? Nobody expects to find they’ve been bunking with a warlock.”

“I am not a warlock,” Casey said firmly. “The Wreath does not teach kids to use infernal magic; they go to great lengths in legacy families to keep the young ones away from it. I know what it feels like—that’s how I warned Basra that night in her house when the Wreath attacked—but that’s it. Nothing proactive until you’re old enough to have self-control, and then they teach slowly. The point of a good infernal education is to ensure you can do everything safely before moving on to the next thing. Children would just kill themselves; it’s a path that doesn’t allow for mistakes. Honestly, the Black Wreath are just about the only people who do handle the infernal professionally. Even the Strike Corps, even the Church’s holy summoners, have a lot of attrition from accidents. The Wreath can’t afford to be so sloppy.”

“See, this is leading into the thing I think we’re all concerned about,” Principia said. “I am still a member in good standing of the Thieves’ Guild. Szaravid is still a Nemitite at heart. Are you still Wreath, Elwick?”

Casey drew in a deep breath and let out a sigh. “I’ve spent a lot of time thinking specifically about that very thing. What I keep coming back to is that this experience, Basra aside, has been the best thing for me. I grew up with one religion; I’ve spent the last few months surrounded by what could be considered the opposite religion. I’ve heard them both rail against the evils of each other, and heard the absolute sincerity in it. In this position, I can kind of see where both have points, and where both are wrong.” She shook her head. “I don’t think I could ever be Wreath again. I’ve just got too many questions. It wasn’t all bad; Elilial’s ways are all about cleverness, and let’s face it, if it wasn’t for that I’d be as deep in Syrinx’s thrall as poor Covrin is right now. But there’s a strength, a sincerity to Avenism… It’s hard to put into words. Hearing the priestesses talk about justice, though, I have no trouble understanding why people believe. I don’t know what I am, girls, but I’m gonna figure that out. And I’m pretty sure no religion owns all the answers.”

There was quiet at the table while they digested that. After a few long moments, Ephanie cleared her throat.

“Well… Unless you have more to say, Elwick?” Casey shook her head. “Right, then. That’s about as good a segue as I could ask for. Well, I was raised in an Avenist temple, obviously. Joined the Legions at sixteen. I was a Lieutenant upon being dishonorably discharged.”

“What’d you do?” Farah asked, then clapped a hand over her mouth. “Um. Sorry. I just…”

“It’s okay,” Ephanie said with a bitter little smile. “To answer the question, I fell in love.”

“They kick you out for that?” Merry asked.

“Pretty sure it’s the circumstances,” said Principia. “Which we’ll find out, if you’ll all shut up.”

“Thanks, Sarge,” Ephanie said wryly. “I… Okay, I’m not going to go into the details of my courtship, that’s not really germane. But yes, he was a Huntsman of Shaath. Quite aside from the insult this was to the Sisters…” She trailed off, lowering her eyes and frowning.

“It’s okay,” Principia said after a moment. “I was serious before, Avelea, we do all need to have this out, but you take what time you need.”

“Women are like pets to them,” Ephanie continued after a moment. “Just…exactly like that. Expected to be decorative, and useful. Women offer and receive affection, but… We aren’t equals. Not truly people. As a Huntsman’s wife, I was subordinate. Expected to be obedient. To kneel at his feet, do whatever he ordered…be patted on the head when I pleased him and whipped with a belt if I didn’t.” She swallowed heavily, painfully. “And I loved it. Everything about it felt so right to me. It was like I was only just discovering who I was. A pet. I loved it so much I was willing to turn my back on everything I had been raised to honor. It was…who I was. Am.”

“Okay,” Merry said. “That is seriously—”

“Everyone at this table,” Principia interrupted, “should think very carefully before passing judgment on anyone else.”

“That…is completely correct,” Merry said, flushing. “Sorry, Ephanie. I will be shutting up now.”

Ephanie shrugged, still wearing that dark little smile. “Well, I can’t say you’re wrong. It’s pretty messed up, isn’t it?”

“Humans,” Principia said, shaking her head.

“Excuse me,” Casey said, “what was that just now about making judgments?”

“Well, I’m sorry, but human cultures have this thing about sexuality that still boggles my mind after two centuries,” Principia replied. “Some people are submissive by nature. I don’t get why that is such a challenging thing for Avenists to wrap their heads around when they’re all up in arms about how women shouldn’t be judged if they happen to be gay.”

“In the end, that was exactly the problem,” Ephanie said, nodding. “Some people are submissive. I… Well. The problem is, according to Shaathist doctrine, all women are. And that is a lie. It started to fall apart for me, almost immediately. Being alone with Feldren, I could truly enjoy the way our relationship was, but all those other women there… They’re constantly trying to bring in women, you know. Not just because Huntsmen aspire to have multiple wives and they need that gender imbalance, but because women leave. Because most women just are not designed that way. It’s not hugely unusual—a lot of women get by just fine in the cult of Shaath—but it is most definitely not intrinsic. Girls raised in the cult are just… If they don’t naturally fit the mold, they have every spark of life beaten out of them so they’ll be good, dutiful wives some day. That, or they run. It got to the point where I couldn’t get away from it. Even alone with my husband…the reality of what I was doing was there. By being there, by allowing myself to be this trophy, the tamed Legionnaire they held up as an example to all the others, I was complicit. I couldn’t live with myself that way.”

She sighed deeply. “And, in the end, I figured out that my own marriage was totally imbalanced. He never… It was so important to me. To give myself over to someone so completely. It was a huge intimacy, a huge gift… And Feldren never truly appreciated it. To him, that was just what a woman was; there was no inherent significance in it. He loved me, sort of, but the way one loves a prized possession. I wasn’t his partner… Not even his lover, not truly. I was deeply valuable to him because having won me, he proved his manhood beyond what most Huntsmen could ever hope.”

Ephanie paused to take a sip of her mostly cooled tea. “Well. Getting out wasn’t terribly difficult. I went to a temple of Avei, spilled the whole thing out to the head priestess. She didn’t even lecture me; Avenists are big on responsibility, and making it known you understand exactly how you screwed up goes a long way toward getting back in their good graces. Anyhow, religious incompatibility is grounds for unilateral divorce under both Universal Church doctrine and Imperial law. I didn’t know where to go or what to do with myself, but the priestess took me back to the main Temple, arranged a sit-down with the High Commander, and got me re-enlisted. My record is wiped out—the black mark of my leaving is gone, but I also have to start at the bottom of the ranks. And let’s face it, even with me officially forgiven, it’s going to be a very hard road, earning back the trust of the Legions after what I did. But…if they’re willing to have me, I’m willing to do it. So…here I am. A little sadder, a little wiser, and moving on.”

She turned to meet Casey’s eyes. “And I entirely understand what you were talking about, Elwick. Having been through two opposing cults, I see now why Avei’s teachings are important, in a way I never did, having taken them for granted growing up. But I also see how the Sisterhood is not right about everything. For all their talk about women being free to make choices, they come down hard on any choice that doesn’t fit their worldview. It’s…an interesting place to be. I’m not sure where or how I’m going to end up, honestly. But for now, I’m here, and I feel like I’m…sort of okay.”

“We’re all here,” Principia said firmly. “And we’re in this together. And for my part, knowing where all of you come from, who you are… Hell, you’ve more than earned my trust.”

“Likewise,” said Merry, then grinned. “And I can’t help noticing that we do have an interesting selection of skills and backgrounds, here. Not every Squad One is anything impressive, but girls, I do believe we can make that list.”

“Oh, we will,” Principia said, grinning. “I absolutely guarantee it.”

 

“It’s just…all my fault,” Juniper sniffled. “I ruin everything.”

Jack, for a wonder, was nuzzling affectionately after, rather than lunging (again) for the mushrooms or trying to escape. She held the jackalope close, running her fingers through his thick fur.

“I am concerned, Juniper,” said Shaeine gently, “that your feelings of guilt are leading you to blame yourself for everything.”

“Shouldn’t I be blamed?” Juniper said miserably. “I killed that poor guy for the stupidest possible reason, and now I’ve destroyed my own sister because I was dumb and careless and thought I could do something I couldn’t. I’m such a—”

“Stop it,” Trissiny said firmly. “June, Mother Narny used to tell me, ‘guilt asks who made the mess; responsibility asks who’s going to clean it up.’ I think that’s very good advice, which you should consider, here.”

“But I feel so awful,” Juniper whispered.

“Your sister’s hurting,” Gabriel said, reaching over to squeeze her hand, then jerking back when Jack twitched forward as if about to lunge. “But Triss is right. Look, we’re your friends, okay? When you hurt, we’re right here with you. We’ll do whatever we can. But…don’t make the pain your whole world, all right?”

“Learn the lesson,” Shaeine said, nodding. “Do not repeat your mistake. Let yourself heal, and go on to do better.”

The dryad sighed. “How, though?”

“Ain’t gonna be done in one conversation,” Ruda said. “Arquin’s right, doll; you’ve got us. Your’e not in this alone. And I’ll tell you somethin’ else, Aspen is gonna be fine.”

“How?” Juniper demanded. “How is she possibly going to be fine?”

“Because Tellwyrn is working on that.” Ruda grinned. “Let’s be honest, here. Arachne Tellwyrn is a stubborn, crotchety, pushy, disagreeable, vindictive, conniving old goat who has the social skills of a dragon with diarrhea and three toothaches, but she is fucking good at what she does. More to the point, underneath all the bitchiness, the old bag cares. It doesn’t come out all that often, but we’ve all seen by now how hard she works to take care of people who need it. There’s real love buried somewhere in that cranky little package, not to mention more power than anybody could possibly know what to do with. If she’s on this, then Aspen couldn’t possibly be in better hands.”

Several of them wore smiles by the time Ruda came to the end of her speech. Finally, Juniper managed a watery one herself.

“So,” she said, looking around at them. “Are we okay, then?”

“Well,” said Toby, leaning his arms on the table and smiling, “guys, I have to apologize, but I’m about to say something paladiny. Ruda, try not to laugh.”

“I make you no promises, Caine.”

“Life isn’t about being okay,” he said more seriously. “Much of the time…you just can’t. The world is full of suffering, and unpredictability, and a lot of getting by means coping with the bad. Life, in the end, is about knowing how to be okay, and working toward it.” A warm smile bloomed on his face. “And in the end, we’ve got each other. We’ve all got our supports outside this group. We will be okay, somehow, and for now, that’s enough.”

“Aw,” Fross gushed. “That was really paladiny.”

“Thanks,” Toby said, grinning up at her.

“Even though that’s not a word.”

“Is now!” Gabe said cheerfully. “I appreciate the example, Toby. I need to work on being more paladiny.”

“Work on being less demony, and you will be halfway there.”

“Do you wanna go back in the sheath?”

“Yes, please. I’ve been sitting in a puddle of some kind of mushroom-derived alcohol for half an hour. For the love of all gods past and present, wipe me off before putting me away.”

“Well, that’s that sorted, then!” Ruda said brightly, brandishing her bottle of rum as if in a toast. “On to the fun part of the evening! Who wants pork and mushroom stew?”

Everybody groaned.

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