Tag Archives: Juniper

2 – 18

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She fought in broad daylight.

Light encompassed Trissiny: her own energy, drawn from Avei, as well as the blessings of Omnu and Themynra laid upon her. Omnu granted peace, which was an ironic sensation under the circumstances, but she certainly appreciated the core of unshakeable inner calm while she fought among two dozen foes each more than three times her size. His blessing was also one of life and healing, which she also had cause to be thankful for, especially the first time she took a kick full in the chest from an equine hind leg. Her breastplate didn’t so much as dent, its silvered steel having been a gift of the goddess, but she felt her ribs break and skin rupture, and then set themselves instantly right, with a pleasant tingling sensation.

Themynra, as Shaeine had said, was a goddess of judgment, and Trissiny was grateful for her assistance as well. She had been skeptical at being told of the drow goddess’s association with Avei, but in the heat of this melee, the matter began to make a great deal more sense. Her mind already held the knowledge she needed of martial arts and military tactics, but she found herself thinking faster and three steps farther than she usually did, deducing where a strike would fall or an enemy would maneuver almost before they did.

She whirled among them, unable to reach higher than their equine backs, but nearly impossible for them to strike—and when they did land a hit, immediately back on her feet, unhurt. It was a battle of attrition, and while the centaurs might have expected to win that had it just been her, they were facing off against the power of the gods.

It helped a lot that they could hardly see. Trissiny moved in a mobile blaze of light that blinded and confused them; they could either look right at her and accept momentarily blindness and longer-term damage to their night vision, or look outward into the darkness, and fall afoul of the rapidly dancing little human with the inhumanly precise sword.

That didn’t mean she was going to win. Themynra’s touch told her the odds, and Omnu gave her peace with it. Gods or no, she was an imperfect vessel for their power, and her enemies had power of their own.

After the first clashes, though, the warlocks had pulled back to let the warriors face her. Her divine light didn’t effortlessly snuff out their spells the way Juniper’s fae magic did, but rather reacted against it—violently. It was quickly proven that whatever sources they were drawing on, Trissiny’s was stronger. Curses hurled at her rebounded or exploded at the outer edge of her aura; the two demons initially summoned to attack her had died excruciatingly within seconds, one bisected by her blade, the other struck insensate to the ground by a burst of radiance, to have her boot slam down on its throat. The third had taken one look at her and fled across the prairie, its shrieking warlock in pursuit.

Trissiny learned quickly that the best place to be was right in front of them. To the side, they could turn swiftly, using their bulk to knock her over; behind, she was in range of those mighty hindquarters, which was very much to be avoided. No blessing or healing would save her if a kick took her head off, which they seemed fully capable of doing. She had gained some insight into why the barbarian lord whose tomb had hosted her party had been given his name, now that she knew firsthand which end of a horse was not to be messed with.

Too far back, and they sent arrows, spells and javelins at her, which she had ways of dealing with, but that forced her to expend her energy with nothing to throw back at them. No, the sweet spot was right in front; they couldn’t reach her with their hands, and she was quick enough to deflect their longer weapons on sword or shield. From that range, she could reach their human bellies with her blade, which seemed to hold some vital organs. They were most likely to rear up and slash at her with their hooves, which afforded her the chance to dodge beneath them and put her sword into their lower bodies. From there, it was somewhat tricky to disengage her blade and get away before being crushed under their falling weight, but the centaurs were only faster over long distances. Up close, she was the more nimble.

Three lay dead, now, with half a dozen more still on their feet but bleeding or limping. A further four were alive but immobile; Trissiny had found that the creatures were just as vulnerable as horses once their legs were broken. Of those, only one had tried to continue the fight with bow and arrow, and had subsequently lost a hand as a lesson in why one should not launch a ranged attack on a mobile foe when one could not run away.

She wasn’t even tired, yet. It would come, though, she knew it. So far, she still didn’t feel the burning sensation of too much Light, despite the fact that she was using more than at any previous point in her life. That was coming, too, however. It wasn’t a pretty way to die.

What would be, would be. Live, die, it hardly mattered. She was protecting her friends. She was the hand of Avei. She fought.

Sword, shield and boots were equally useful for breaking legs. Shield and aura both worked to deflect attacks. Her blade bit into flesh, her power pushed back against curses. Trissiny rolled under their legs, smashed their limbs, maneuvered them to collide with each other, slashed at them till their blood ran under her armor. Those who survived this night would remember Avei’s wrath.

The blast of a hunting horn split the night. One long note, two short ones, a pause and a final bleat. She didn’t know their signals, but Trissiny suddenly found herself alone. The centaurs peeled away in every direction, flowing around her at a respectful distance to regroup.

She held her ready stance. Were they retreating? Had she convinced them they couldn’t win this? She hadn’t yet convinced herself of that… Then again, they were expecting easy prey; the fact that she was not might be enough to dissuade them.

A sudden fear chilled her as she watched them gather together. What if they just backed off and went around her, after her friends? She’d never catch up in time.

The centaurs, however, held their position, about fifty yards distant, excepting the nine lying wounded or dead on the battlefield. Thirteen still in their ranks, as best she could tell; they were milling about enough to confuse the matter.

Then, they parted, and their leader emerged from the throng.

She held her skull-staff in one hand and the hunting horn in the other. Stepping forward, she tossed the horn to one of her number and continued on at an even pace, alone, her gaze fixed on Trissiny.

The towering centaur came to a stop. Then, very deliberately, she raised her staff high over her head, and nodded once to the paladin.

For a moment, Trissiny felt only revulsion. A warlock among a tribe of warlocks, rapists, and the gods only knew what else was not worth treating as any kind of equal. That, she realized, was only her faith talking. And in the end, there were some things which were about faith, and some that were about being a warrior.

Trissiny returned the salute in the Avenist fashion: sword hand over heart, blade vertical beside her face, and a shallow bow.

They lowered their weapons at the same moment.

The centaur broke into a canter, calling upon her power; shadowy forms, an inky purple against the night sky, began to circle above her like vultures over carrion, first one, then more, till they swirled above her head in a twisted vortex. As she accelerated into a full gallop, the skull head of her staff burst into sickly green flame.

Trisiny charged to meet her, shield forward, blade held out and ready to strike. Her aura intensified till the other centaurs couldn’t look, her sword burning almost white with divine energy. A tone like the chime of an immense bronze bell rang across the prairie, and in the final sign of Avei’s favor, golden eagle wings lit the air behind her, as if to lift her from the ground.

From the point where light and shadow met, the tallgrass was blasted flat for a quarter mile around.


 

The little hillock wasn’t much in the way of shelter, but it was something, and in the endless flatness of the Golden Sea, something was plenty. Small, thorny bushes decorated it, interspersed with craggy little protrusions of rock. It had also held a few grouse, which were now roasting over their campfire. Not much else of interest was to be found, but the travelers had made the best use they could of it. With the hillock on one side and the two wagons drawn in a loose V formation, they formed a sheltered little triangular nook, lit by their campfire.

The oxen were tethered outside the formation, and Jim sat atop the modest high point of the hillock, still plenty close enough to speak to without shouting, keeping watch. The other three sat cross-legged on the ground around their campfire, laughing, chatting, and waiting for dinner to be done.

“Somebody’s coming,” said Jim suddenly, standing up.

A hush fell over the group; Bella slipped a hand into her vest to grasp at one of the talismans hidden there.

“Trouble?” asked Lance tersely.

“Dammit, man, if I knew I’d have said so. Shut up a minute and let me look.”

Moving slowly so as not to create noise or cast dramatic shadows, Elroy leaned to one side, picking up his staff and Lance’s, which he passed over; Lance accepted the weapon with a nod of thanks. Bella was fingering her amulet now, almost silently whispering an invocation of some kind. Lance had little understanding of witchcraft, but it seemed to involve almost as much muttering and superstition as he expected from clerics.

“It’s those kids,” said Jim, his tone more bemused than relieved. “The ones from the other day. Well…half of ’em, looks like.”

“Tellwyrn’s kids?” Bella asked, biting her lip. “Hell.”

“Ain’t likely to rob us, then,” Lance mused. “How far?”

“Bout a hundred yards. Makin’ right for us. No surprise there, what with the fire.”

“You say there are fewer?”

“Yeah, I count… Four. No, five, one’s unconscious and being carried. They got some kinda floating glowball for light.”

“Down part of their number and walkin’ around in the middle of the night,” said Lance, frowning in thought. “Sounds like trouble. Anything comin’ after ’em?”

“Not that I can see. They ain’t hurrying, either. Look plumb wore out, to me. Kinda, y’know…trudging.”

“All right. Hands near weapons, but until we get a sign otherwise, I’d say it’ll pay to be neighborly.”

“You sure?” Bella asked carefully.

“Tellwyrn ain’t a good enemy to have. We’ll be polite until a compelling reason not to pops up. Like I said, they ain’t likely to mean us harm, and it sounds like they’ve had some trouble of their own .”

She nodded slowly, Elroy doing the same. They waited in silence for the few minutes it took the students to reach their camp.

The little brown girl led the way, stepping through the gap between the wagons with naked steel in her hand. Lance’s eyes flicked to the sword, and Elroy’s hands tensed on his weapon. Her posture wasn’t aggressive, though; the blade was practically dragging along the ground. She looked angry and tired, but relaxed slightly as her eyes widened in recognition.

“Oh, hey,” she said. “It’s you guys again.”

“Evening,” Lance said mildly. He glanced at her unsheathed weapon and came to one of the rapid decisions that had marked his career up to this point. “We weren’t expecting to run into y’all again. It’s not often that paths cross twice in the Golden Sea.”

“Perhaps the gods brought us,” said the tall, dark-skinned boy, gently pushing past her. “Sorry to barge in on you like this.”

“Ain’t no trouble,” Lance replied. “Elroy, point that thing someplace else, nobody here’s bein’ hostile. Sit a spell, neighbors. Food’s not quite ready, but you’re welcome to the fire. Unless I’m mistaken, there were more of you previously.”

“We’ve had…a day,” the boy said ruefully, glancing back as the last of his companions entered, the drow and the half-elven man, who was carrying the slumbering green-haired girl. “Thanks for the welcome. You’re the first good news we’ve seen in quite a while.”

“Centaurs?” asked Bella, tense.

“A good way behind us,” said the boy, nodding. “But we’ve not seen them in hours. It looks like we lost them.”

“Are you sure?” Elroy asked nervously.

“They are not stealthy creatures,” said the drow, and Elroy started violently, twitching his staff in her direction. Thankfully, she ignored this. “I would have heard any pursuit. No, we’ve left them behind…though the price was steep.”

“Then it sounds like you’ve more’n earned a little rest,” Lance said solicitously as the four carefully arranged themselves to one side of the fire, Elroy having stood and circled around to stand between him and Bella. The blonde main carefully laid out the green-haired girl to one side before seating himself. “Hell, I’m not gonna make you kids wait on this to finish cookin’. Bella, why don’t you find something for our guests to eat? They look tuckered out. Hey, break out some of that special cornbread of yours.”

The others twisted their heads around to look at him in obvious surprise. “The…special cornbread, Lance?” Bella asked uncertainly.

“Now, don’t be stingy,” he said with gentle reproof. “We’re doin’ okay for supplies, and you can have all the cornbread or whatever else you want once we get back to civilization. These kids needs a little somethin’ to pick ’em up after the day they’ve had.”

“Sorry,” she said, flushing. “I just… Yeah, sure, gimme a second.”

She stood and stepped over toward one of the wagons, but reared back in surprise when a glowing silver ball zipped around from behind them. “Need a hand?” it asked in a bright, somewhat squeaky voice. “I’m getting good at carrying stuff!”

“Holy shit,” Bella whipered in awe. “You’re a pixie.”

“Um…yes?” The pixie bobbed in place a couple of times. “We’ve met before, you know. I was there when we ran into you out on the prairie.”

“You were? How did I not see that?”

“Oh, well, it’s my coloration, I guess. I’m told I can be kinda hard to spot in broad daylight.”

“I bet we’ve got all kinds of stories we can share,” Lance said pointedly, “but we’ve got hungry guests, Bella.”

“Ah. Yes, right.” Grudgingly tearing her eyes away from the pixie, she hopped up onto the wagon and vanished within. “Comin’ right up.”

The special cornbread was wrapped up in oilcloth, bound with some of Bella’s charmed twine to keep it fresh. In short order she had undone this and was passing around tin plates, breaking off chunks of bread for the students.

“Y’all go ahead and dig in,” she said, smiling warmly. “You’re welcome to some bird, too, when it’s ready, but we can wait on that. Looks like you kids have had a hell of a day. Is your friend there all right?”

“She’s just tired out,” said the half-elf, managing a weak grin. “…hopefully. We’re not a hundred percent sure. She doesn’t seem sick or injured, anyway.”

They accepted the offering of food with murmurs of thanks; only the boy tried to demur, insisting on sharing, but Bella was too gently persistent, and Lance managed to distract them by asking about their situation.

For all that the story was fairly straightforward, it seemed hard for them to get through. Toby, as he introduced himself, took the main role in laying it out, with occasional interruptions, mostly from Ruda and the Professor. The drow remained silent, eating quietly, and Fross just sort of drifted about their heads, commenting little.

He was carving the birds by the time they were done, and waved off their refusals with a smile as he refilled plates with fragrant fresh grouse, in addition to passing shares around to his own people.

“So the long and the short of it is,” he said carefully, “y’all have had one hell of a day.”

“Few days,” Ruda muttered, chewing. “…this is really good cornbread.”

“Bella’s special recipe,” he replied easily. “It’s got beans baked right in—you probably noticed that—and a dusting of cinnamon on the top. Your ma’s recipe, wasn’t it?”

“No, Lance,” she said, rolling her eyes. “It was Mother Gowan’s, the woman who taught me the Craft. Honestly, do you even hear words when I talk?”

“Depends on how much I’ve had to drink,” he replied, grinning at her, then sobered, turning back to their guests. “At any rate, I’m glad to hear the rest of your crew aren’t a total loss. Sounds like you managed to send ’em off to safety, at least. Well, except for the paladin girl. Reckon she’s all right?”

An obvious pall fell over them. Ruda’s features twisted into a virulent scowl and she glared into the fire as though it had just insulted all her ancestors. Toby glanced down at Juniper, lying stretched out a safe distance from the fire, as if to reassure himself that they hadn’t lost any more members of their group while he’d been talking.

“We hope and pray it is so,” said Shaeine. “There seems little more we can do at this juncture.”

Lance nodded. “That’s life, sometimes. You expect help from your University?”

“Yeah,” Ruda said quickly, an edge to her tone. “Tellwyrn will know if anything happens to Triss. She’ll take care of it.” Toby glanced sidelong at her, uncertainty plain on his face, but he made no comment.

“Well, regardless, you kids are welcome to spend the night here,” Lance continued. “We’re headin’ back to the edge of the Sea as quick as we can make it, and I gather you’re planning the same?”

“We are,” Toby said, nodding.

“Good, then there’s no reason not to help each other out. We’ll cover the watch tonight, since you’re kind of under the weather.”

“Not necessary, we’ll gladly…” He yawned hugely, mid-sentence.

“So I see,” Lance said dryly. “Tell you what, anybody still awake when it’s time to change shifts can draw straws for it. Fair?”

“’s fair,” Toby agreed, nodding again. He and the others were all visibly sleepy now, lulled by fatigue, the cozy fire and a belly full of hot food. Shaeine had set her plate on the ground after nearly dropping it once, and Rafe was already stretched out on his back next to Juniper.

“We’ll just see about getting’ squared away for the night, then,” Bella said, rising with a smile and leaving her half-eaten plate of grouse. “You still want to help, Fross?”

“Oh! Uh, sure, what can I do?” The pixie fluttered curiously over to her. Bella smiled, clambering up onto the nearest wagon and reaching under the seat.

“Well, we always keep somebody on watch, as you can see. That’s just basic common sense.”

“Ooh! I can stay on watch, I don’t need to sleep!”

“I know you don’t,” she replied, smiling, and pulled forth a lumpy knapsack. “But I was going to say, in addition to keeping a pair of eyes out, I always lay some simple protections on us and set a few wards for the evening.”

“Wards? Oh! You’re a witch!”

“Bingo!” Bella grinned. “So you see why I’m a little embarrassed. Imagine, a witch not noticing a pixie.”

“Aw, shucks, don’t worry about that. Human eyes aren’t made for spotting white lights in broad daylight.”

“Well, regardless, we’re all together now, and that’s what matters.” She had set her sack on the wagon seat and was laying out items, old charms, bundles of herbs, bones, crystals and a pint-sized glass jar with a lead stopper and swirling designs inked on the sides. “So, while I’m sure you’re very talented at lifting things, maybe you can help me out with this instead?”

“Well…sure! I’ve never assisted a witch before, it should be interesting. I mean, where I was born we didn’t really run into humans at all, but I’d heard about humans who used fae magic and I always thought that must be the most fascinating thing, so, yeah, I’d be glad to! Sorry if I ask too many questions, I don’t know very much about the Craft and I always love to learn new things.”

“I don’t mind at all,” Bella said easily. She had tied a thin silver chain around the upper rim of the lead stopper and laid two springs of dried herbs in the bottom of the wide-mouthed jar. “Here, let me show you. Can you come down here, please? Right by the jar.”

The pixie obediently buzzed downward, doing a lap around the jar before settling on the wood next to it. “What am I looking for?”

“What I need you to do is very carefully infuse those dried leaves with just the tiniest bit of pure elemental magic. Careful not to overdo it; if they burn up we’ll have to start over.”

“I dunno,” Fross said nervously, “I’ve never tried that before.”

“Don’t you worry about a thing, darlin’, I’ve got plenty more. A few false starts won’t hurt us any. Here, try to get a straight shot; can you perch on the rim of the jar?”

“Easy peasy!” She buzzed her wings once, bounding up onto the very edge of the jar’s mouth. “Oh, I see your point, this thing’s enchanted to bar magic.”

“Exactly,” Bella said, nodding, “the power only goes in and out through the mouth, that way I can control it. Now…let me walk you through it. Don’t draw on any magic yet, just start by looking at the herbs.”

“Check. I’m looking.”

“Look hard. Really focus on them, get a feel for them. Let the herbs fill your awareness…”

Her wings buzzed briefly, but Fross made no reply, her light dimming slightly in concentration as she peered down at the bits of dried plant at the bottom.

“Very good,” Belly cooed softly. “Nice and still. Hold that in your mind, and now…”

With a single motion, she knocked Fross forward with the lead stopper and then drove it firmly into the mouth of the jar, trapping the pixie inside. Quick as a cat, she snatched up a length of woven cord wrapped in an elaborate pattern of silver thread, winding it three times around the jar, and tied it off. Inside, Fross buzzed about frantically, though she barely had room to extend her wings. Her voice was reduced to meaningless squeaks by the thick glass.

“Ah!” Bella set the jar down on the wagon seat and shook her hands. “Cold!” She held them out toward the fire, but her savagely triumphant grin didn’t so much as waver.

“You about done, then?” Lance asked dryly.

“Oh, I am so done,” she purred. “Got everything I ever wanted right here.”

“Really? You were just supposed to put her out of commission. What do you want her for? What can you possibly do with a captive pixie?”

“What can’t you do with a pixie?” she retorted gleefully. “She’s a little bundle of pure elemental magic, endlessly self-replenishing. Doesn’t need to eat, sleep or breathe, and no matter how much power I pull from her, she’ll produce more. Most witches only dream of binding a pixie! You almost never see them unless you go where they live, and then they’ll mob you if you mess with one. Ohh, this is ten times better than that haul of jewels we found.”

“Yeah, that’s great and all,” Elroy said skittishly, “Bella gets her little glow-toy, and meanwhile we just probably pissed off Arachne goddamn Tellwyrn. For what? I’ll eat my boots if these kids have anything worth taking in their pockets.” Gingerly, he reached out and nudged Toby with a toe. He and Ruda had slumped over backward and were now stretched out side by side, their feet toward the fire. Only Shaeine still sat up, but she was slouched heavily and just as deeply asleep.

Lance permitted himself a smug smile. And they’d told him bringing the special cornbread was a waste of time in the Golden Sea. Preparedness; that’s why he was in charge. He stood up, stepped around the fire, bent down and picked up Ruda’s sword. “Have a look at this,” he said mildly, holding it out toward Elroy.

“Oh, c’mon, that? Yeah, sure, the gems’ll probably sell, but dammit, Lance, they ain’t nothin’ compared to what we’re already hauling! How the hell was that worth the risk?”

“Don’t assume the sparkly part is the most important part, dummy. Hey, Jim, come down here. Have a look at this.”

Jim picked his way down the rocky slope and approached curiously, plate in hand and chewing. He froze, though, staring at the sword in the firelight, going wide-eyed. Lance could almost swear his elongated ears perked up slightly.

“Okay, what are we missing?” Bella asked, tearing her eyes away from the glowing bottle. Fross had iced over the interior, hiding herself from view.

“See how the light shines on it?” Lance said, slowly turning the sword to make the firelight gleam on the blade. “Not like steel, more like it’s soaking up the light and glowing, right? This, lady and gents, is mithril. Honest-to-gods dwarven-cast mithril. Magically non-conductive and damn near indestructible. This blade would stop a wandshot; it’ll be around long after the Empire is dust.” To demonstrate, he took the rapier’s blade very carefully in both hands and attempted to flex it, to no effect. A length of steel that thin would have bent easily. “This here shaft of metal is worth three times our entire haul of jewels. Add to that the fancy handle, and this is a weapon that should belong to a prince or high priest.”

“Damn,” Elroy whispered. “What’s that little girl doin’ with it, then?”

“That, Elroy, is the best part,” Lance grinned. “See that blue jewel on her forehead? She’s Punaji—a pirate. The obvious answer to what a scruffy teenager is doing with a piece like this is that she stole it. That’s what Punaji do. So whoever actually paid for this thing will be lookin’ for her, not for us. That’s assuming they ain’t at the bottom of the Azure Sea with a slit throat.

“So our plan’s the same: we head back to civilization and sell the jewels. Now, though, we re-invest some of the proceeds in, shall we say…gentrification. Proper outfits, introductions. It’ll take some doin’ to get into the right circles to sell this sword; can’t just anybody afford something like this, even if we don’t let it go for its full value, which we ain’t gonna get. Even so, once all the effort’s made, we just doubled the size of our haul, easy.” He caressed the slender blade as lovingly as Bella was now fondling her bottle. “We are made. After this score, we can retire and live like lords until we get so tired of decadence we’re ready to shuffle ourselves off the mortal coil.”

“You are rather glossing over the complication of our…guests,” Jim pointed out.

“Right,” Lance said, drawing his attention away from daydreams of wealth and idleness, back to the present. “That’ll be an extra step or two, but nothing too onerous.”

“Just slit their throats and have done with it,” Jim said curtly.

Lance shook his head. “You heard the girl. They die, Tellwyrn knows. Wouldn’t put it past that lady to have ways of keeping an eye on the life force of her students. I’ve heard stranger things about her.”

“That sounded like a bluff to me.”

“T’me, too, Jim. But given the risk involved, and the fact that we don’t need to call that bluff, we won’t.” He nodded at Bella. “Our resident witch here can use that memory spell we laid on Lord Calwynth last year. We take ’em out of the Sea, find someplace relatively safe where they won’t get immediately killed, lay the whammy on ’em and haul ass out of there. They’ll wake up amnesiac, which’ll slow ’em the hell down without calling Tellwyrn down on us.”

“It’s a good plan,” Bella agreed. “No permanent harm, even, just for a humanitarian bonus. They’ll get most of their memories back eventually, but not the ones most recent before the spell. So they won’t ever know what happened or who to look for.”

“Sounds foolproof,” Jim said, narrowing his eyes. “I distrust foolproof. It never works out in practice.”

“Well, there’s one complication,” Bella admitted. “Lance, I don’t think my memory spell will work on the dryad.”

“So…that’s an actual dryad?” He let out a low whistle. “I sorta figured green hair was trendy in Tiraas these days. Kids’ll do any dumb fucking thing to piss off their parents.”

“Lance Rogers, any woman wandering around the Golden Sea dressed like that is either a dryad or about to be a corpse. Use your head for somethin’ besides a hatstand. Look, I can bind her so she won’t wake up, that’s easy enough. We’ll leave her someplace separate, somewhere in the Golden Sea. Animals won’t mess with her, and the Sea is twisted by fae magic; she’ll be right at home until Naiya sends somebody to wake her up. If she ever does. She ain’t exactly the most attentive mother. But we sure as hell do not want to bring her any harm. A pissed-off Tellwyrn would be nothing compared to a pissed-off Naiya.”

Elroy jumped in startlement at a sudden movement from Shaeine, but she was only tumbling over on her side, finally overbalancing. He grinned weakly at them. “Well. Um…sounds like a plan, then?

“It does,” Lance agreed. “And we’ll get started on it first thing in the morning. We ain’t more’n a day or two from the outer rim, if that. Bella, anyplace special we should look for to leave the dryad?

“Anyplace’ll do, in a pinch,” she said, chewing her lip and staring thoughtfully down at Juniper. “Could just drop her in the middle of the prairie and it’d probably be fine… But someplace meaningful would be better. We should hold out for a grove, something that could be sacred to the fae. If we don’t come across anything, we’ll just ditch her, but showing a little respect will go a long way toward appeasing Naiya.”

“She ain’t gonna be mad about us putting the girl to sleep, then?” Elroy asked nervously.

“We didn’t put her to sleep, I’m just gonna keep her that way. Which, in a roundabout way, is probably for her own good, if her so-called friends let her wear herself out running in the first place. Anyway, fae have very different sensibilities. Long as we don’t do her active harm, we’re not pickin’ a fight.”

“All right, then,” said Lance. “I want two people on watch at all times tonight. One looking outside, and one keeping an eye on these kids. We don’t want any surprises, and let’s face it, Tellwyrn doesn’t let just any jackass attend her school. It’ll mean short sleep, but in three days this’ll all be behind us, and we’ll be on our way to wealth and privilege. Jim, you take a rest; Bella, you an’ me’ll have the first watch, since it looks like you’re too busy getting’ cozy with your new pet pixie to sleep anyway.”

“Aw, you know me so well.”

As they talked, Ruda’s hand twitched toward Toby, and viciously pinched the skin on the back of his wrist. His breathing didn’t vary in the slightest.

She cracked an eye open a slit, to glance up at the four travelers, then immediately shut it as they dispersed, two into the wagons, the leader toward her and her companions. There she lay, limp and breathing deeply.

Waiting.

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2 – 16

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“We ready, then?” asked Rafe brightly. Trissiny repressed a sigh. They weren’t ready; she did not have a good opinion of this plan, but the others had overruled her. Again.

“It’s a little unwieldy,” said Fross, drifting slightly to one side before catching herself. “The featherweight oil’s working, though. I don’t think I’ll have any trouble carrying it at speed.”

“Just be careful not to spill it. At least, not before it’s time to.”

“Yes, I know, Professor.”

She looked very odd with a cobbled-together tray of bottles and glass vials suspended from her, swaying gently back and forth. Fross appeared to be able to handle the weight, but the students were nonetheless keeping their distance, knowing what was in those bottles.

“I still don’t like that we pillaged Horsebutt’s grave goods to make that,” Ruda grumbled. “It’s not respectful.”

“We just took a few arrows to make the frame,” said Gabe tersely. He still had Juniper wrapped around him, and was still clearly feeling the effects of the war drums. The rest of them were mostly okay, thanks to time spent in Toby’s calming aura. “Just be glad Rafe had so much spidersilk in that belt or we’d have been truly fucked.”

“Still doesn’t feel right,” she said. “I left some food and ale, but… I dunno if that’s what he’d like. Don’t need an angry ghost coming after us”

“Well, he was a barbarian warlord,” Teal said. “What else would he like? We could leave some coins?”

“Hmph. Simple things, practical things. Food, drink, loot and girls. Oh,” she said, grinning suddenly. “Maybe I could strip down, lie on his tomb and jill myself off a couple times. Bet he’d get a kick out of that.”

“Okay,” Gabriel said after a moment’s stunned pause. “Two questions. Would that actually work, and if so, can I watch?”

“It actually might,” said Rafe, “and no, that seems like the kind of thing for which Trissiny would stab you.”

They all shifted their eyes to look at her. Trissiny glanced back and forth around the group, then shrugged irritably. “What? You’re expecting me to argue?”

“Horsebutt will have to be content with Ruda’s offering and our apologies,” Rafe said firmly. “I don’t think we can afford to waste much more time here. Fross? You’re up.”

“Wish me luck!” the pixie chirped, then drifted toward the doorway to the canyon. She was moving without apparent strain, but much more slowly than usual. There was a collective indrawing of breath as she came perilously close to clipping the stone doorframe with her makeshift basket, but she corrected and made it out into open air without trouble. From there she ascended rapidly out of sight. There came no immediate outcry from the centaurs; she had clearly well followed her instructions to move outside their range of view.

“Right,” said Rafe. “Demons, your turn.”

Juniper gave Gabe a quick kiss on the cheek, squeezed him once, and then let him go, backing away. Immediately the blackness in his eyes expanded to fill them completely and he hunched forward, features twisting as he fought the artificial rage induced by the centaurs’ infernal magic.

Teal shifted without a word; even with her wings folded tightly against her back, Vadrieny’s blazing presence was overwhelming in the cramped tunnel. She stalked forward, talons crunching on the gravel-strewn floor, the others pressing themselves against the wall to get out of her path, and laid one clawed hand on Gabriel’s shoulder.

“Right,” Rafe repeated. “Good. Now that you’re here and the moment is upon us, Vadrieny, I want you to grab Ruda too.”

“What?” Ruda said shrilly.

“She’s the most vulnerable of those left, with no magic of her own,” the Professor continued inexorably. “Get her to safety. The rest of us can cope.”

“Fuck you!” Ruda snarled, grasping at her rapier. “I’m not leaving my friends like that!”

“This isn’t up for discussion,” he said sharply. “Vadrieny—”

“Not happening,” said the demon curtly.

Rafe boggled at her for a moment, then scowled. “Look, this is in the best—”

“You look.” She pointed one wicked claw at him, glaring. “Ruda fights. She stands by her friends. Loyalty and valor—those aren’t just values, that’s who and what she is. Maybe someday, Rafe, someone will strip away your identity, and then you’ll understand why you don’t do that to a person. Ready to go, Gabriel?”

“As I’ll ever be,” he rasped, lifting his eyes to look helplessly at the others. “Guys, I… I’m sorry. I wish…”

“It’s all right, Gabe,” Toby said firmly. “Get to safety. Get Tellwyrn; that’s the best thing you can do for us now.”

Gabriel had time to nod once before Vadrieny steered him firmly out of the tunnel, wrapped one arm around his chest, and took off with a mighty beat of her wings. They were instantly lost to sight, but there came a whooping from above as the centaurs spotted the glowing demon passing.

“We are going to talk about this, you and me,” Ruda said grimly, glaring at Rafe.

“Can’t wait,” he muttered.

“Is there even the slightest chance of Tellwyrn coming to help?” Trissiny asked quietly.

“Not really, no.” Rafe shook his head. “She may be the biggest, baddest mage alive, but the Golden Sea… Even gods have had trouble navigating in here. Teleporting into the Sea is completely random. Traveling by foot or by air isn’t much better unless you’re going toward the edge. Nope, we’d best not count on any backup arriving.”

She nodded, unsurprised, and drew her sword.

Toby shifted uncomfortably. “How long do you think it’ll take Fross… Oh. That must be her.”

The sounds from above erupted into utter cacophony. The drums, mercifully, stopped. The centaurs’ hollering abruptly increased tenfold in volume and intensity, many of the shouts becoming outright screams, and the sound of hoofbeats thundered about even more erratically than when they had first arrived.

Fross’s collection of bottles had been a hodgepodge of disruptive compounds Rafe had been carrying. Hallucinogens and fear inducers, both of which he’d tweaked—while the others had woven together the hasty basket—to become airborne once opened. A bottle of pure elemental wind to spread the effects around as much as possible. A few bottled shades, barely intelligent shadow elementals which would rush around in a mad panic in the absence of specific orders; he had bemoaned the loss of those, but they would be just the push needed to scatter the suddenly drugged and terrified centaurs.

“Ahh.” Rafe grinned fiendishly, rubbing his hands. “I do love it when a plan comes together. Confusion and chaos, kids. This is why you don’t screw with the alchemist!”

“Time for us to move,” Trissiny said curtly, stepping out into the canyon.

Afternoon was fading above; it was already deep twilight within the canyon, only the reddish sky still showing any signs of light. The gloom was less disturbing than the chaos from the plains. No matter that the centaurs were enemies of the worst order, hearing them screaming in abject terror was not pleasant for anyone.

The others filed out behind her, quiet as possible; Trissiny barely waited for them to exit the passage before setting off back the way they had come.

It was a tense, macabre reenactment of their journey into the canyon in the first place. Again, the centaurs were galloping about without plan or purpose, but this time they were obviously suffering utter havoc, rather than exulting in high spirits. Here and there, sounds of fighting broke out as the potion-addled brutes turned on each other. This time, too, it was dark, and growing darker by the moment; Shaeine carefully tucked her black glasses into their case and then into her robes. As before, though, the students made their progress as carefully and quietly as they could without sacrificing too much speed.

With a horrible scream, a centaur pitched over the rim of the canyon above, striking the ground with a massive thud mangled by the snapping of limbs. She lay there, kicking with broken legs and shrieking nonstop until Trissiny darted over to her and beheaded the creature with a quick stroke.

The others stared at her, wide-eyed, as she returned to the group. Shaeine, though, nodded once in understanding. In that instance, the tactically sound thing was also the only kindness she could have offered. Neither of them could have healed those injuries, even if they’d wanted to.

“Hug the wall, just like we did on the way in,” she said, pitching her voice barely loud enough to be audible above the carnage. “If any more fall off, they’ll hopefully overshoot us. We don’t want to be landed on.”

She resumed her place in the lead, setting off. They followed again with only the slightest hesitation.

For all that the trip back started much worse than the trip out had been, it gradually got better. The centaurs grew more scattered and this time they actually managed to leave them behind; they had apparently made their camp above the tomb to wait for the students to emerge. They made much better time, too, moving with a purpose and a somewhat diminished need for stealth. In what seemed like relatively short order, the canyon walls shortened enough that they had to hunch to hide beneath them, which they did; distant or no, the centaurs were still audibly present, still making a constant din of screams and occasional crashes.

Trissiny called a halt; this was where they were meant to rendezvous with Fross, and there was as yet no sign of the pixie. She knew to head downhill, which would lead reliably to Last Rock, if she became separated, but Trissiny very much hoped it didn’t come to that. They wouldn’t know their missing classmate’s fate until they got back to the University in that case, and if Fross didn’t turn up there, they’d have no realistic prospect of mounting a rescue.

At least it was finally growing dark enough to see stars. The pixie would be much easier to spot against a black sky.

“Everybody catch your breath,” she said quietly. “When Fross finds us, we’re going to move as quickly as we can, straight downhill. Once we’re out on the open plain, stealth is not going to be a possibility. We’ll do our best to get out of range of the centaurs, and if any of them catch up, we’ll have to fight.”

“How long does that stuff last, Professor?” asked Toby.

“Should keep ’em completely out of commission for most of the night! I don’t brew halfway, sonny boy.”

“And after that they’ll have a hard time regrouping. They’ll have wounded to tend to, and whatever supplies they were carrying were almost certainly damaged in the chaos.” Trissiny nodded grudgingly. “It’ll mean a very exhausting night, but I’d say odds are decent that if we make good time we won’t have to deal—”

It had been perfectly still; none of them had realized anyone was there. But abruptly, a centaur burst upright out of the tallgrass not twenty yards away, where he had apparently been lying on his side. Trissiny spun to face him, and for an instant they locked eyes. His face was twisted by panic, but not reduced to witlessness. She saw him see her. See all of them.

He raised a horn to his lips and blew a series of sharp blasts, galloping back along the rim of the canyon toward whatever was left of the main herd.

“All right,” said Rafe, “which one of you forgot to make an offering to Arseface, the god of irony?”

“Nevermind,” said Trissiny. “We have to move. Those who are so inclined, say a prayer of guidance for Fross, but do it while we run.”

She suited the words with action, setting out at a sharp pace after doing a quick visual scan to identify the direction in which the prairie gently sloped. The others immediately followed; to her frustration, Trissiny had to moderate her pace somewhat. Clearly she was the only one accustomed to prolonged running.

In fairness, it hardly mattered. There was no way they were going to outrun centaurs.

For a good ten minutes it seemed they actually might; it was at least that long before the sounds behind them obviously became organized. Trissiny skidded to a halt, though, when the hunting horns rose. At least three separate tones. She turned back to face their pursuers. They were merely a line of indistinct shapes in the darkness, but even at this distance, she felt the faint prickling of diabolic magic at work.

“Stop,” she said firmly. Juniper leaned forward, bracing her hands on her knees; Shaeine was also out of breath. “Everyone catch your breath as best you can, we don’t want to face this overtired. Toby, can you ease everyone’s weariness?”

“I have been,” he replied, then grimaced apologetically. “Except… It won’t work on Juniper, divine magic’s not helpful for fae. Sorry, June.”

“’S’fine,” the dryad said, waving him off. She straightened slowly with an odd cracking sound like twigs snapping. She wasn’t panting; she wasn’t, Trissiny realized, breathing at all, but her body language clearly showed fatigue.

“Are you all right, June?” she asked.

“Yup. Just let me…limber up a bit.” Juniper rolled her neck and shook out her arms. “I’m not really used to running. I’ll be fine.”

“Good. When they get close enough to start their attack, I want you on point. Be out in front and take down whatever they send at you.”

“Can do,” the dryad said grimly, stepping forward to position herself between the group and the rapidly approaching centaurs.

“Shaeine, support her initially with your shields until the battle closes and Ruda and I advance to her position. I want her to take the first hits; use your best judgment about what’s too much for her to take.”

“Why’s that, exactly?” Ruda demanded.

“Psychological warfare,” Trissiny said, keeping her eye on the enemy. They had slowed their advance, forming into a more even line. That was not the behavior of people hopped up on alchemical terror drugs. Either the potions had missed a few, or they had a way to counteract them. It was barely more than a dozen, though, which was much better than facing the full horde of fifty. “They’ll open with arrows, spears and/or infernal magic. Juniper’s impervious to diabolism—well, diabolism of the caliber those creatures can manage. She’s also our most durable member, and can take a few hits. I want them to see their opening salvo fail to make a dent on a pretty girl in a short dress before we proceed to carving them up. June, as soon as you feel you’ve had enough, start backing up and Ruda and I will move in and take the front. Then focus on healing yourself until you feel ready to rejoin the fight.”

“Got it.” The dryad smiled brightly at her. “You know, you’re actually really good at this!”

“This is what I’ve trained for my whole life,” the paladin said grimly.

“And me?” Rafe asked. Trissiny repressed the first comment that came to mind. Thanks to him and his nonsense, she was conducting this battle with their two most impervious members—one of whom was also their hardest hitter—absent, not to mention their ranged magic support. This was not the time, though; you didn’t berate your troops right before an engagement if you wanted them fighting at their best.

“Unless you’ve got a weapon, hang back. Since holy magic won’t heal Juniper and I’d rather she not waste her energy, use any applicable potions you’ve still got to support her.”

“Rightyo!”

“What, no special instructions for me?” Ruda asked grinning.

Trissiny shook her head. “Your job is to kill things. I don’t think you need supervision.”

The pirate laughed. “Once in a while, roomie, you say something that makes me think we just might learn to get along.”

“Here we go,” Trissiny said firmly as the centaurs let out simultaneous blasts on three hunting horns. “Stand firm and show them just what they’re messing with, people.”

The centaurs—fourteen of them—formed a cohesive line fifty yards distant. At their center was a female who stood head and shoulders taller than any of the others, wearing a feathered headdress and carrying a long staff surmounted by a collection of grinning skulls. Even from this distance, Trissiny could feel the demonic magic radiating from her.

One trotted forward, a male—the same one, she realized, who’d spotted them and sounded the alarm. He made a diagonal pass across the distance between the two groups, studying them. She saw the moment when he realized they had no bows, wands or spears: a savage grin broke across his features and he wheeled about, charging forward directly at Juniper.

The dryad had stepped forward, placing a good six yards between herself and the other students, and stood there, watching him come. He eyed her up and down with a leer even as he rapidly closed with her; even if she didn’t know the habits of centaurs, Trissiny would have suspected his intent. In seconds, he had closed the distance. Not slowing in the slightest, he re-angled himself to pass perpendicular to the battle lines, reaching out to grab a fistful of Juniper’s hair in passing.

He might as well have grabbed a tree.

The centaur emitted a pained squawk as he was brought up short, flopping onto his side, his legs going out from under him. Juniper very calmly raised her own leg and kicked him right under the chin.

With a disturbing pop, his head went sailing back the way he had come, striking the ground and bouncing toward the other centaurs. It vanished into the tallgrass before reaching them.

With a howl of rage, another female broke from the centaur lines and charged forward, this one brandishing a staff somewhat less elaborate than that wielded by their leader. She gesticulated with this as she came, sending a huge, roughly bird-shaped patch of shadow careening straight at Juniper.

It struck the dryad and vanished.

The charging centaur’s yells only grew more furious. She launched two more of the shadow-birds, each of which simply petered out upon making contact; the second one, Juniper actually swatted out of the air, grinning.

Her smugness vanished when the warlock changed tactics, hurling a fireball. The dryad yelped, diving frantically out of the way. The spell impacted the ground just beyond where she had been, igniting the tallgrass; Juniper rolled to her feet and lunged away from it in a panic, even as the rest of the students were forced back from the growing blaze, Rafe fishing frantically in his belt for something to put it out.

The centaur warlock brandished her staff again, grinning triumphantly and calling another ball of fire into being. Her own victorious expression was snuffed out when a translucent silver wall sprang into existence right in front of her. Moving too fast to stop,she slammed into it at full speed with a hideous crunch and staggered backward, then fell to the ground, stunned.

“Good work, Shaeine!” Trissiny shouted. “Everyone, regroup! Back away from the fire. Juniper, this way! Don’t get separated!”

The centaurs had started to move forward at a walk, the leader brandishing her skull staff overhead. The students were in disarray, despite Trissiny’s efforts to regather them together; the fire was taking hold admirably in the dry tallgrass, spreading fast and unpredictably.

And then, out of nowhere, a blast of frigid wind ripped across the space between them, accompanied an instant later by a brutal splattering of sleet. In seconds, the fire was gone and a swath of scorched tallgrass glistened under a thin coating of ice.

“Hi, guys!” Fross sang, zipping into their midst. “What’d I miss?”

“Fross!” Trissiny shouted in relief. “Thank the goddess, I was afraid they’d caught you. Can you discourage them while we pull back together? Elemental magic only, they may be able to turn arcane spells against you.”

“Excuse me, I’m an arcane sciences major. I know my circles of interaction. Hey, four-legged assholes! BEHOLD!”

From the tiny point of white light that was the pixie sprang forward an unthinkable torrent of magic. A wave of wind rippled across the plain, drawing the centaurs up short; in its wake came dozens of icicles, spraying across them without pattern. They let out cries of surprise and pain; some of those shafts of ice were sharp enough to pierce flesh. A few halfhearted bursts of fire cut swaths into the ice storm, but after less than half a minute, the centaurs broke formation and wheeled about, galloping away in full retreat.

“They grow up so fast,” Rafe sniffled.

“Is everybody all right?” Trissiny asked as they finally managed to regroup.

“Peachy keen! I’m…whoo, head rush…” Fross chimed weakly, and dropped suddenly from the air. Shaeine dived forward to catch her in her cupped hands.

“Fross!” Toby said in alarm.

“She’s okay,” Juniper assured them, peering down at the spent pixie, “just exhausted. Pixies are basically made of magic; she can’t exactly run out, but she can dip so low she’s got no energy left for stuff like flying and talking. Here, give her to me, your fingers’ll get frostbite.” Tenderly taking Fross from Shaeine, she set the pixie atop her head, nestling her into her thatch of green hair. “There. That was a lot of power to be throwing around at once. She’ll be okay in a few hours.”

“So we can’t expect her to do that again anytime soon?” Rafe said, glancing back the way the centaurs had gone.

“Better not. Honestly, I think she might try, but she’ll just burn herself out again. It’s not…unsafe. Like I said, pixie magic is pretty much bottomless. But there’s a limit to how much she can hold at one time.”

“So she needs to regenerate,” said Trissiny, “and we need to move. I don’t think we can afford to assume they’ve had enough.”

“What would you guess are the odds?” Toby asked, as they fell into step behind her. She didn’t try to lead them at a run, this time; she’d chivvy them into a faster pace presently, but for now, Fross wasn’t the only one needing to regather her strength.

“Depends on too many factors we can’t really understand,” she replied. “Mostly down to their culture and the psychology of that big one who was leading.”

“It comes down to this,” said Ruda. “They’re raiders. We’ve just embarrassed them twice; they can’t have that. The leader can’t have it, it’ll be cutting into her authority. If we scared them badly enough, she may not be able to whip them back into fighting shape to come after us. Otherwise, they definitely will.”

“Their apparent leader, in addition to being an abnormally large specimen, was clearly a warlock of significant power,” said Shaeine. “It is difficult to imagine that they are more frightened of us than they are of her.”

Toby closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. “So you’re saying…”

“We’re saying,” Trissiny said grimly, “it is going to be a long night. Walk faster.”


 

There were few things more brutally exhausting than a long fighting retreat, as they soon learned.

The centaurs did not give up. They managed to kill a few with each engagement, but the overall trend in their numbers was in the opposite direction as they gathered more of their scattered herd. The students suffered only minor wounds, easily mended with three light-wielders and an alchemist in their group, but they were leaning heavily on Toby’s gifts and Rafe’s concoctions to keep their energy up. Nobody knew exactly where the tipping point would be, but they were all very well aware that magic and alchemy were not long-term substitutes for rest, especially when they were alternating constant running with short bursts of grueling violence.

The first time the centaurs charged again, a swift counter-charge by Trissiny and Ruda smashed their lines, throwing them into disarray. Despite their disadvantages in numbers and size, the two humans were wreathed in healing light from Toby and mobile barriers provided by Shaeine; the centaurs very quickly grew tired of fighting indestructible little pests who darted into their midst wielding cold steel, and broke away to regroup.

Thereafter, they abandoned their strategy of using numbers and weight, preferring to make passes from a safe distance, firing arrows and spells. Shaeine continued to shield the group from projectiles and Fross, by that point, had recovered enough to retaliate with ice bolts, though at Juniper and Trissiny’s insistence, she carefully paced herself. Even Rafe managed to be helpful, hurling vials that unleashed fire, poison, blasts of wind, glue, and all manner of effects. Any lone centaurs who wandered too close to the group were taken down brutally by Juniper; the couple of times small knots of them tried to charge, those who slipped past the dryad were cut down by the two swordswomen.

This long engagement stretched for over and hour before the students, faltering with weariness, changed their own tactics. As yet another column galloped past, readying their bows, Fross zipped overhead to blast them with wind and snow from the other side, herding them closer to the group, while at the same time Shaeine slammed a shield into place, boxing them in. Ruda, Trissiny and Juniper waded into the mix, wreaking devastation, until the centaurs broke completely and scattered, beaten and demoralized.

One group, anyway. There always seemed to be more trickling back into the herd to replenish their numbers, even as the students grew weaker and more weary.

In the aftermath of the failure of their last charge, they attempted to regroup into battle lines, as they had in the first place, but were sent into full retreat when Toby burst into radiance with an intensity that lit up the prairie like high noon. Throwing his arm forward, he sent his own aura rushing at them, a small mobile sun. In its wake, Trissiny could feel the crawling miasma of infernal magic burned away. The centaurs finally retreated out of their line of sight.

“Sorry, Shaeine,” Toby said ruefully.

“No apologies necessary,” she replied, rubbing at her eyes. “I would appreciate a word of warning next time, however.”

“There’s…there’s not gonna be a next time,” he said. “I can’t manage that again. Guys…I’m nearing the point of burnout, here. If we don’t do something to stop this soon…” He let the thought trail off. It wasn’t really necessary to finish it.

The light of the gods was infinite in scope and depth, but there were stark limits to how much of it mortal flesh could safely channel. “Burnout” was not a euphemism; clerics who drew too deeply on divine power tended to literally combust. Some deities cut off their followers before it got to that point. Avei, trusting her soldiers to recognize the battle in which they would die, did not. Trissiny wasn’t feeling the warning twinges of heat herself, but she had been relying more on muscle while Toby was using divine magic entirely.

“It will be as the gods will,” she said grimly, bringing up the rear of the party.

“That’s just fuckin’ wonderful, that is,” Ruda growled, trudging along just in front of them. “What a fucking miserable place to die. No proper body of water within miles.”

“We’re not going to—” Trissiny broke off her reassurance as Juniper abruptly collapsed.

“June!” Ruda shouted, rushing over to her and kneeling at the dryad’s side. “Oh, fuck…she’s not breathing!”

“She doesn’t breathe,” said Rafe, coming over beside her. “Not the way we do, anyhow. You won’t find a pulse, either. See, her skin’s warm. Dryads go all wooden when they die, she’s fine.”

“I think ‘fine’ might be an overly optimistic description of someone who has just fallen unconscious,” said Shaeine. Indeed, Ruda’s shaking and patting was getting no response at all from the dryad.

“All right,” Rafe said grimly, hooking his hands under Juniper’s shoulders, “We’ll have to—OW! My back! Holy fuck, she weighs a literal ton!”

“Metaphysical properties of a tree, remember?” said Trissiny. “That’s how she’s been shrugging off all those hits. I guess if she’s not conscious to control it, she gets more…tree-like.”

“I’ve never seen a tree faint before,” Toby said worriedly.

“I bet if you ever saw a tree run cross-country as long as Juniper just has, you’d see it faint.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s it exactly,” Fross said, buzzing about their heads in a tizzy. “Dryads are really strong and very durable but they aren’t perfect, everybody’s got their weaknesses. Fire’s very bad for them, and they’re really meant to be kinda stationary. Oh, man, what are we gonna do? We can’t let her die, Naiya would massacre everybody within a mile.”

“No one is letting anyone die,” Trissiny said firmly. “Rafe can carry her.”

“Are you out of your—”

“Featherweight oil!” she snapped. “Surely you didn’t use all of it making that absurd basket?”

He blinked at her. “Oh. Huh. That’s actually a pretty good idea. Right on…sorry about this, Juno, but I’m going to have to lather you a bit,” he said, turning back to the fallen dryad and reaching into one of his belt pouches.

Trissiny scanned the horizon. On this flat terrain the centaurs really shouldn’t have been able to get out of their view so quickly, especially when they were up the incline, slight as it was. Perhaps the Golden Sea had shifted them away… But then, how did they keep following? Ansheh had said they had ways of controlling or at least influencing the Sea’s changes up to a point.

In the end, logic only went so far; she was a creature of faith. They were still out there. They were still coming. She could feel it.

Her fellow students were in sorry shape. Fross seemed to have recovered from her previous exhaustion and was buzzing around Rafe, chattering something about dryads at high speed. Ruda and Shaeine were both sitting in the grass, the pirate looking absolutely worn out. The drow was poised as ever, but even her slim shoulders were slumped with fatigue. Toby had kept his feet, but his face was drawn tight with exhaustion.

Trissiny wasn’t tired. She had always had more stamina than the other girls she’d trained with; now, with the goddess supporting her, she was still good to keep going. The others, though, weren’t going to last much longer.

“Toby,” she said quietly, “a word?”

He looked up, glanced over at the others, and nodded, allowing her to lead him a few yards away. Still plenty close enough for Shaeine to hear, but it couldn’t be helped.

“I need you to look after everyone,” she said quietly. “Keep them safe, and keep them moving. Do not stop until dawn at the earliest, and even then, not until the Sea gives you something defensible to camp in.”

“Triss, no,” he said sharply. “I know what you’re driving at, and you can forget it. We stick together.”

“That ship has sailed,” she retorted. “We should have made our stand when we had the full group together. Everyone’s on their last legs; they can’t keep doing this. Look at me. I can.”

“But—”

“I wasn’t trained for diplomacy, so I hope you’ll forgive my bluntness,” she said fiercely. “You are holding me back. None of you can fight in anything approaching my league, with the exception of Ruda, who doesn’t have any magic supporting her. Having to ride herd on all of you is crippling me. If I can get into the middle of the centaurs, call on everything Avei will give me, go all out… Well, only the gods know what will happen, but it will be a very different game. All I need to do is take out the leader, I think.”

“And the others? How will you get back, even if you win? And how can you possibly win? Trissiny, think about this, you can’t seriously—”

“A paladin’s life is sacrifice,” she said coldly. “With all due respect, Tobias, I suggest you get used to it.” He reared back, staring at her as if she’d slapped him, and a stabbing pain shot through her heart. “This is what I do,” she said more gently. “This is what I am. I fight. I protect. You nourish and support. These are the roles our gods called us to, Toby. You have to let me do this.” He just stared at her, anguish suppressing the weariness on his face. She reached up and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. “I know I’m asking a lot, and I’m sorry. But I need you to get the others moving, make them accept this, and get them home, and safe. Can you do it?”

He closed his eyes for a long moment, then nodded, swallowing heavily. “I guess I’ll have to,” he said miserably, opening his eyes to look at her again. There was a strained moment between them, and then, suddenly, Toby wrapped her into a hug, squeezing fiercely despite the way her armor had to be digging into his skin. “Omnu light your path, Hand of Avei,” he whispered fiercely, then kissed her on the forehead. It tingled nearly as much as the gentle warmth of Omnu’s blessing did, settling over her.

A blush suffused her features as she finally, reluctantly pulled back; Trissiny devoutly hoped none of what she was feeling was visible on her face. Of all the silly things, at a time like this…having the tingles over a boy. Mother Narny would either laugh at her or box her ears.

Suddenly, she realized that Shaeine was right there. The drow reached up to place one hand gently on Trissiny’s cheek, and she felt another light sensation ripple through her like a gentle breeze.

“Wisdom guide your steps, sister,” the priestess said quietly, “and bring you safely back to us. An’thashar talamyth nil.” She stepped back three times, bowed deeply, and turned back to the others.

Trissiny swallowed, forced herself to meet Toby’s gaze, and nodded to him. “Go. Now. I don’t know how much time I can buy you.”

Turning her back on them was easier than facing them. She wasn’t made for heartfelt goodbyes and awkward embraces: she was the Hand of Avei, a creature of justice, of war. Among the torrent of emotions spiraling through her was a rising sense of purpose. Certainty.

Trissiny strode forward, alone, toward the enemy, while her friends resumed their retreat behind her, and found that for the first time in days, she was finally calm.

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2 – 15

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“There’s nobody out there now,” Fross reported, buzzing back into the hall, “but there are horse tracks all over. Centaur tracks, actually, I’m assuming. Also…our tracks, which I guess explains how they found us.”

“Stupid,” Trissiny muttered. “I should’ve thought of that. Rafe even has that stuff which hides footprints…”

“Then we’re all equally stupid,” Toby said firmly, “and there’s no point in dwelling on it or casting blame. Let’s deal with our current situation.”

They had moved into the last stretch of hall, leaving the tomb itself, by unanimous agreement. Whatever the spirit of Horsebutt may have thought of them, it simply didn’t feel right to anybody to loiter in someone’s final resting place. Juniper had seemed somewhat nonplussed at this, but had followed the group without comment.

“My original plan stands, then,” said Trissiny, nodding. “Matters are slightly different now that they’ve had a chance to prepare for us, but the canyon remains a good place to hold off a charge. Shaeine, can you put a shield over us to cover while we get in position?”

“Now, hold on,” Rafe protested. “I’m not about to sign off on you kids going to war. Waiting the bastards out seems like a better strategy, since they can’t get in here. We’ve got plenty of food for a few days.”

“We are not equipped for a seige,” she said firmly. “They can hunt and gather up there, quite apart from whatever provisions they have. We don’t even have water. Plus there’s the immediate issue of sanitation.”

“Actually, I can fix that,” he said brightly. “For a day at least; it’s not wise to take back-to-back doses, that can mess up your body chemistry. But a quick sip and you’ll all be fully self-contained biological vessels for the duration!”

“Fucking ew,” Ruda muttered.

“Plus,” Trissiny went on patiently, “there is the immediate matter of the drums.”

They all paused to glance upward. The drumming was muted by rock and distance, but hadn’t let up in the last half hour.

“Do you remember me saying those drums were a weapon?” she continued. “Specifically, they are warlock tools. The war drums induce a state of bloodlust in those already steeped in infernal magic, and create unnatural fear in all others. Stealing emotional energy, in essence, trading our poise for their power. They severely demoralize a foe while strengthening the centaurs themselves.”

“I can deal with that,” said Toby. “The aura of calm is Omnu’s most basic gift to his followers. It should neutralize their advantage completely.”

“That’s great, as far as it goes. But I’m not as much concerned about fear among the rest of us as the drums’ effect on those already steeped in infernal magic.” She turned to stare significantly at Gabriel, the others following her gaze.

“I’m fine,” he said hoarsely, and completely unconvincingly. He was hunched over and breathing hard, as if winded, and refused to lift his head to make eye contact with anyone.

“Oh…shit,” said Ruda.

“I’m fine,” Gabriel snapped.

“Gabriel,” said Trissiny quietly, “look at me.”

“I don’t need your—”

“Look at me!” she barked. He jerked his head up, meeting her gaze.

His eyes were completely black.

“Toby,” said Trissiny calmly, “your aura of calm is divine in nature. It will hurt him if you use it. Do you think it would have a calming effect, even so? Are you willing to subject him to constant pain if it does? And how long can that possibly work even in the best case scenario?” She shook her head. “We can’t stay here. The longer we wait, the more worn out and vulnerable we become. We have to deal with our enemy, and in this situation that means striking first.”

Juniper, who had been crouched against the wall nearest the exit tunnel, stood up, walked over to Gabriel, and wrapped her arms around him from behind, resting her head on his shoulder. He took a deep, shuddering gasp, then straightened slightly. The darkness receded somewhat from the edges of his eyes. “Oh…wow. That’s actually better. What did you do?”

“Cuddled you,” she replied, not moving.

“Juniper is a very high-ranking fae,” said Shaeine. “Fairy magic is disruptive to infernal magic. Have you any active spells you can use, Juniper?”

The dryad shook her head, rubbing her cheek against Gabriel’s shoulder. “Some healing, but it only works on physical wounds. I can talk with animals, and plants, sort of. Nothing…y’know, flashy.”

“It’s better, though,” said Gabe, then actually grinned faintly. “And I can’t say I mind. This is cozy.”

“That’s because I have very nice breasts,” Juniper said matter-of-factly. “I know how you like it when they’re touching you.”

“And that buys us some time, at least,” Trissiny said, her impatience beginning to leak into her voice. “But it doesn’t change our situation!”

“She’s right,” said Ruda. “We’re just gonna get weaker if we try to wait this out; they’ve got all the advantage. With apologies to our resident pacifists, there’s a time when you just gotta go out there and fuck somebody up. It’s that time, people.”

“All right, hold up,” said Rafe firmly. His tone and expression were so different from his normal slack-jawed insouciance that they all looked over at him in surprise. “There’s more to a situation than fight or huddle. Fleeing is also a good option.”

“Those are centaurs,” Trissiny exclaimed. “They run like horses!”

“I didn’t say we should challenge them to a footrace. There’s such a thing as subterfuge, though. All we’ve gotta do is create a little confusion, and I think I know how.”

“And then what? Wait till they run us down again?”

“I was thinking more about making sure they’re in no position to do that. And frankly, Triss, maybe you should acknowledge your own bias. It’s not so hard to conceive that the Hand of War is more inclined to a combative solution, is it?”

“Um, I don’t see how this is anything but a combative situation,” Fross interjected. “Those aren’t creatures we can negotiate with, even I’ve read enough about centaurs to know that. This is almost certain to come to a fight one way or another, and if everyone will please remember, Professor Tellwyrn specifically said we should listen to Trissiny if a fight happens!”

“She is not here,” Rafe said sharply, “and while we’re on the subject, let me tell you about Professor Tellwyrn. She believes in testing people, hard. I would even say cruelly. If she were leading this expedition and you went too long without stumbling into something life-threatening, she would damn well go find or create something life-threatening for you to deal with, just to see how you did. However, she would also stand watch over the proceedings and make sure nobody actually died. End of the day, testing is all well and good, but what matters is getting you kids home alive, and I’m making a decision here. Fifty bloodthirsty centaurs is not an academic exercise, it’s a threat. The trip’s over, we’re getting the hell out of this.”

“Fine!” Trissiny said sharply. “But you still haven’t presented a solid case against fighting them off! We have the capacity.”

“Maybe,” he replied. “Maybe not. If you’re right and we tried it, well, great. If you’re wrong, then we wouldn’t find out until somebody was dead or maimed.” He panned a stare across the whole group. “Going to battle is something you do only when it’s necessary. If I can present a solid plan that’ll get us out if this without it becoming necessary, will you guys agree to go along?”

Nobody answered him; they all turned to look at Trissiny. She folded her arms. “Fine. Let’s hear it.”

“All right. Step one, we have to evacuate our devilkin before those drums get to them. Vadrieny can fly and carry someone, she’s proven this. She needs to take Gabe and get out of range, pronto. You can make it back to Last Rock pretty quick at her flight speed; tell Arachne what’s going on and try to get help in case it’s needed.”

“I don’t…think…the drums are working on Vadrieny,” Teal said hesitantly. “I don’t feel anything… She doesn’t feel anything.”

“She’s a whole other class of demon, Teal. A dozen orders of magnitude beyond a half-hethelax; she’ll be resistant to tampering. That might mean the drums just won’t work, or that they don’t work as well… Or maybe that they won’t work as quickly and the effects will hit all at once later. Frankly, that’s a risk we can’t take. If Vadrieny goes berserk… Two paladins, a cleric and a dryad aren’t going to cut it. She’ll demolish us.”

Teal folded her arms around herself and looked downward, but didn’t offer him any argument.

“If that’s the case,” Toby said slowly, “how many can she carry? I doubt she could take us all out, but…she’s got two hands.”

“Nope,” said Ruda. Toby blinked at her.

“Nope?”

“Nope.” The pirate shook her head. “Nobody else’ll go. Think what we got here: three Light-wielding types, right? Any of you willing to bug out and leave the rest of us to the centaurs?” She raised an eyebrow, glancing around at them. “Didn’t think so. You can add me to that list. I’d never be able to look my papa in the eye if I ditched crewmates in a battle.”

“That still leaves Juniper,” Gabe said, placing a hand over one of the dryad’s, where it pressed against his heart.

“Nuh uh.” Ruda shook her head again. “She couldn’t even fly carrying Juniper. Fae and demon magic, remember? C’mon, we’ve been over this in Yornhaldt’s class; it’s not advanced stuff. Vadrieny doesn’t actually have a body, she’s using Teal’s. So when she…y’know, comes out, that’s all magic. It’s a spell effect. It won’t even work if she’s so much as touching a dryad.”

There was a moment’s silence while they digested this.

“That’s…very insightful, Ruda,” Toby said slowly.

Ruda grinned sardonically. “Ooh, look, pirate girl has a brain. Stop the fuckin’ presses.”

“So, that’s settled,” Rafe said, drawing their attention back. “Demon-touched safely out of the picture, all we have to do is throw the centaurs into confusion and get ourselves the hell out.”

“I’m still waiting to hear how you intend to do that.”

He grinned. “Wait no longer, then, Trissiny. I think even you’ll like this.”


 

“Are you people insane!?” the man in the cell shrieked. “What are you doing? How?!”

“I see you’re still in a mood,” Darling said solemnly. “That’s fine, I’ll come back later.”

“Of course I’m still in a mood, you fucking imbecile! You were just here a minute ago!”

“All right, well, good chat,” he said cheerily, waving his fingers at the three inmates. “You kids be good, now!”

Whistling jauntily—just to irritate them, because he was not inclined to be the bigger person as a rule—Darling bounced up the steps to the doors of the jail. Aside from the elaborately carved oak door, it looked like any other prison on the inside: stone floors, torchlight, iron bars separating cramped cells. When he slipped out, though, shutting the door behind him on the newest prisoner’s ranting, he was left standing in front of the elaborately carved wardrobe set up in the little house’s basement.

“Have fun eyeballing your little collection?” the demon said snidely from within his circle. Darling just strode past him, still whistling. It didn’t pay to interact with demons any more than was absolutely necessary.

His thoughts were occupied, anyway. That wardrobe had certainly cost more than a comparably-sized prison would have to build. The enchantments on it were state-of-the art, and the power source running it was an enchanted crystal of the sort the archwizards of old had spent lifetimes creating and went to war to steal from each other. The use of pocket dimensions for storage—even of people—wasn’t anything new, but time within this prison was frozen except when a person bearing one of the control runes entered. Thus, the four prisoners had scarcely had time to get their bearings, even two days later Mrs. Harkley had originally been locked in. With the Bishops checking on them every hour and not staying long, she had only been there a few minutes by her own reckoning. As it must have looked to the prisoners like their captors were cycling in and out immediately on one another’s heels, not to mention that the three from the previous night had been collected right behind Harkley, it surely wouldn’t take them long to figure out the basics of their situation. It hardly mattered; the important thing was that they wouldn’t work any infernal magic while actively under a Bishop’s eyes, and couldn’t do anything at all unless one of the Bishops was present.

What troubled him was how this thing had come to be given to them for their mission. It had been delivered shortly after their arrival in the town, with no explanation beyond a description of its function and directions for its use. Such incredibly advanced enchantment was the kind of toy he’d expect Imperial Intelligence to have in its possession, but everything they carried had been provided by the Church, which historically didn’t work very much with arcane magic. Had Justinian established a group of enchanters or mages under the Church’s aegis? Had they somehow appropriated Imperial property? If so, was it with the Empire’s cooperation? Every question spun off into more questions; the only thing he could be certain of was that the extra-dimensional wardrobe showed the Archpope’s resources to be well beyond what he had imagined.

That, needless to say, was disturbing.

He emerged into the kitchen to find it quieter than when he left. Branwen’s mixing bowl was sitting on the counter, still full of batter with her spoon stuck in, but the stove was cool. Darling frowned, unease tingling at the back of his neck. It was a small break from pattern, but a break nonetheless.

“Everything all right?” he asked, stepping into the living room.

“Doesn’t look like it,” Basra replied. She and Andros were by the front windows, holding up the curtains to peer out. Branwen stood near the kitchen door, wringing her hands; she gave him a tense smile as he entered.

“The town is too quiet,” Andros rumbled. “It’s only just sundown; there should still be people about. The street is deserted.”

Darling frowned, striding across the room to join him. Sure enough, Hamlet appeared to be a ghost town. He half expected an iconic tumbleweed to blow across the road. “You suspect our Wreath friends?”

“Who else?”

“This may be their last gasp,” said Basra thoughtfully. “Given the size of the town and the sheer number of those Tellwyrn took out, there can’t have been many left. Strategically speaking… They sent one to investigate our demon, let a night pass after she turned up missing, then dispatched three with more obviously hostile intentions.” She turned to look at him, frowning. “I’d thought that might be the end of them… If it wasn’t, though, we might be about to see the last, desperate act of whoever’s left.”

“Good,” Andros growled. “I’ll be glad to see the end of this nonsense.”

“How’s our perimeter, Andros?” Darling asked.

“Intact. My wards and traps have not been approached.”

“Mm. Anyone sense any magic at play? Anything that might make the townspeople up and leave?”

“No,” said Basra, “for whatever that’s worth. We’d sense infernal magic, but other branches? Warlocks wouldn’t have access to fae magic, but they’re known to use arcane spells.”

“I don’t sense anything,” Branwen said fretfully. “Even stretching my mind out to its furthest extent. There should be…a buzz, a background noise of people’s desires and passions. There’s nothing. It’s like the townspeople are all asleep.”

“Or gone,” Andros growled.

“Right.” Darling stepped back. “Everybody, gear up. Seems likely something’s about to go down; it’s not going to take us by surprise. Cloaks on, weapons at hand, in position. Andros, you’re on point. Let us know the instant anything gets too close.”

For a wonder, Andros didn’t give him any backtalk about being told to take obvious measures. He and Branwen turned and retreated to their rooms to gather their things; Basra remained on watch until they returned, then she and Darling did the same.

He could feel it in the very air, now. Not something magical, or something tangible, but a tension. A feeling weighing on the back of his neck that this was all finally coming to a head.

He hoped they were ready for it.


 

In the end, they didn’t need Andros’s wards. Their enemy approached openly as the sun fell over the silent town.

Three figures in cowled gray robes stepped up to the front gate of the house and paused. The one in the middle drew back a hand, then hurled it forward as through throwing a ball. At the gesture, the four Bishops felt a spike of diabolic energy and the middle section of the white picket fence exploded into splinters.

“Classy,” Basra snorted.

She stood beside the door; the rest of them were positioned throughout the living room. All four wore their invisibility cloaks—also rare items and proof of the Archpope’s heavy investment in this mission. They watched through the windows as the three attacking Wreath cultists strode forward onto their lawn, and paused again.

Once more there came a huge swelling of infernal energy, though this time the cultists weren’t visibly doing anything but standing there. Immediately, however, the gathering shadows rippled around them like disturbed water, and two additional figures appeared between them.

A serpentine creature wound itself around the cultist on the far left; the length of a python and twice as thick around the chest, its horselike skull contained a flickering green flame that blazed through its open mouth and apparently empty eye sockets, casting an eerie glow along its glossy black scales. Between the middle and right figures, a creature appeared that was the size and roughly the dimensions of a dog. It had enormously burly forelegs like a gorilla, however, and a long snout bristling with teeth, reminiscent of an alligator. With neither fur nor scales—nor apparently skin—along much of its frame, it had preposterously oversized claws on each foot, and spiky plates of bone lining its spine.

Their familiars summoned, the cultists lowered their hoods. Even in the falling light, their features were clearly visible, as were their grimly resolute expressions. Darling couldn’t see his fellow Bishops, but he suspected he wasn’t the only one who reared back in surprise.

They were children.

Well, teenagers, anyway. The boy on the right, the one who rested a hand on the hellhound’s back, couldn’t have been thirteen. On the opposite side was a girl maybe a year or two older, if that, with the taller boy in the center just barely old enough to lie his way into the Army.

Darling held position, though internally he was reeling. Was this the Wreath’s plan? Send someone they’d be reluctant to harm? He had to acknowledge that if that was their game, it was a good one; he wasn’t at all sure he had the stomach to use force against kids that young. What disturbed him more, however, was his certainty that at least one and probably two of his compatriots did.

The three started forward as one, their demons in tow, but stopped just short of the stairs, uncertainty registering on their faces, when Basra silently opened the door. She was still invisible behind her cloak; they stared warily at the suddenly empty space for a moment before the tallest youth, the one in the middle, set his jaw and stepped forward again. Taking his cue, the others came too, visibly re-gathering their courage.

The youngest boy snapped his fingers and pointed at the door; the hellhound let out a hoarse grunt and lunged forward, barreling through.

Basra threw aside her cloak and lashed out with her sword, neatly beheading the demon as it charged past. It plowed into the stairs, already beginning to crumble to ash and let off gouts of sulfurous smoke before it had stopped twitching. The boy who commanded it emitted one short cry of shock.

“Oh, come on,” Basra said, standing in the door and grinning at them. “You’re not even trying.”

The smirk vanished from her face when all three of them pulled out wands and took aim. Basra barely dived out of the line of fire before lightning bolts ripped through the front of the house, blasting the door off its hinges, taking out a chunk of its frame and punching a hole in the staircase.

The serpentine demon—a species Darling didn’t recognize—lunged forward, flying without the benefit of wings, and spat a gout of green fire at her. Basra, cursing, erupted in golden radiance and swiped at the creature with her sword. She was quick and precise, but it spun through the air with unnatural agility, evading every strike. She was forced to retreat through the door to the downstairs bedroom to evade another round of wandfire as the two older kids pushed inside, forcing her back.

Then Andros threw off his cloak. Beneath it, he had a bow ready with arrow nocked; in one smooth motion, he drew back and let fly, and this time it was the Wreath kids who were forced to dive aside. He hadn’t aimed at them, however; the arrow thunked into the lintel above the shattered door, and an eerie blue radiance rose from it. All at once the temperature plummeted in the room. Flakes of actual snow began to appear from the ceiling, flung about by the winds that suddenly sprang up. With the blessing of Shaath suddenly upon the house, its internal weather became a facsimile of that in the frigid Stalrange, contrasting painfully with the heat of the plains. The kids found snow driven into their eyes by winds which whipped their ill-fitting gray robes about as though seeking to tear them right off.

They barely had time to react to this before Andros tossed aside his bow, pulled out a pair of wands, and returned fire. Darling noted with relief that he was aiming to keep them separated and on their toes, not to kill. Even so, every shot blasted a hole in the wooden walls of the house, except those which pulverized furniture instead. Only the frigid winds kept the place from catching fire.

The winds also had the unintended side effect of blowing their invisibility cloaks loose. Darling had the presence of mind to grab at his with both hands and pin its hem to the ground with his feet, but Branwen almost immediately lost hers, winking into view. She wreathed herself in a golden glow, forming a divine shield just in time to absorb a blast from a wand aimed by the youngest boy.

One of Andros’s wandshots clipped the snake demon, sending it careening into the wall with an unnatural screech that grated painfully on the ears. Branwen immediately directed a blast of pure light at it, pinning it against the wall long enough for the Huntsman to level both his wands and unleash a barrage that reduced the creature to ash and that section of wall to kindling.

Meanwhile, the girl finally took aim at the blessed arrow with her own wand, blasting it to oblivion and taking the upper half of the doorframe down with it, causing a section of wall adjacent to the front door to tumble outward, unsupported.

In the sudden absence of howling winds, the house groaned alarmingly.

Darling wasn’t paying attention to this. Still shrouded under his cloak, he was staring at Branwen. For a moment, something had flickered through her golden aura, disturbing it at the moment when it was weakest, when she was directing more power at the snake demon. He glanced around; Basra was still in the other room, apparently the target of the wandshots the tallest boy was firing in that direction, and Andros was in a momentary standoff with the other two. Three warlocks…two demons. There was no way these kids had conjured familiars of that caliber on their own…

He darted over to Branwen, placing a hand on her back and hoping she didn’t jump in startlement. She didn’t react at all, in fact. But then, she had probably sensed his approach.

“Give me ten seconds,” he murmured, “then drop your aura.”

Darling scuttled backward from her, hoping his message was received and accepted; she had the presence of mind not to give away his position by acknowledging it verbally. Sure enough, ten seconds later, she turned to face the two kids in the corner, letting the glow around herself wink out and placing a shield of light between their wands and Andros.

He watched her back intently. A moment…wait for it…could he have been wrong? No, there…the faintest distortion.

Darling lunged forward, reaching out a hand from under his cloak, snatched a heavy pewter candlestick from the mantle. He brought it down with all his strength, apparently into midair; by sheer luck or the favor of Eserion, it was a dead hit. The succubus popped into visibility as the chunk of pewter was slammed down on her skull. Darling threw aside his cloak, dropping the candlestick and reaching out to grab her by the hair as she crumpled. With his other hand, he whipped out his belt knife and drove it into her back, then viciously yanked the blade out sideways, splattering the floorboards with black ichor. The demoness crumpled to the ground, unconscious and bleeding out.

Gods in the sky, a succubus. Not even a warlock would be crazy enough to give teenagers access to a succubus. This was all wrong.

With the younger two distracted, the tall boy was suddenly alone and found himself in the sights of both Andros’s wands. He turned, wide-eyed, raising his own weapon at the Huntsman.

Basra whipped around the corner, commanding his attention again, but before he could swivel his wand back around to aim at her, she closed with him and drove her sword into his belly just below the ribs.

“Andy!” the girl shrieked in anguish. The boy dropped his wand, gaping at Basra, who winked at him, then yanked her weapon free. He crumpled soundlessly.

“Damn it!” Darling swore.

“You didn’t need to do that!” Branwen exclaimed, rushing to the side of the fallen boy. Her shield over the other two winked out, but Andros immediately swiveled both his wands to cover them.

“Drop the weapons,” he snarled. Both kids, tears pouring down their faces, did so.

Meanwhile, Basra was wiping blood from her short sword with a piece of curtain that had been badly scorched by wandshots. Her eyes flicked between Darling and Branwen, narrowing. “I don’t tell you two how to pick pockets or suck dicks. Do not tell me how to end a fight.”

Branwen had placed her hands over the boy’s wound. While light blazed around her, Darling eased over to the other two and collected their wands. Stepping back, he peered critically around the room.

The stairs had been pulverized, the front door was completely gone… Holes had been blasted in all four walls and the ceiling, and most of the furniture was nothing but scraps of kindling and scorched fabric. He winced at the sight of all those books, burned to ash and fragments, their pieces strewn about by Shaath’s winds. The entire front of the room was more open space than wall at this point.

“Something tells me we’re not getting our security deposit back,” he said.

“Still too quiet out there,” Andros grunted, then raised one wand to point directly at the girl’s face. “You. Explain.”

She tore her eyes from the spectacle of Branwen trying to heal her fallen friend. Tears still ran down her face, but the glare she directed at Andros was pure hatred. She answered, however, her voice thick with barely controlled emotion. “It’s a spell. Arcane. The elders set it up long ago in case we needed to…to…” She paused, swallowing down a lump in her throat. “Everyone’s asleep, but they’re fine. They’ll wake up fine. We don’t harm innocents,” she spat.

Andros grunted. “How many more of you?”

“We’re it, moron!” the younger boy said shrilly. “Do you think they’d send kids after you? There’s nobody else left. You killed our parents, you bastard! We called up their familiars and came to—to—to…” He trailed off, squeezing his eyes shut, and choked back a sob. The girl wrapped both her arms around his thin shoulders.

“To what?” Basra asked dryly. “Get revenge? Well done.”

“Enough,” Darling said sharply. Turning to the kids he moderated his tone. “Nobody’s been killed, no thanks to you. Your parents, if that’s who paid us an unannounced visit last night, are fine. They’re about to go to Tiraas, but the good news is you’ll be going too. Branwen, how’s it look?”

She had just let the glow around her fade, and sat back on her heels, looking exhausted. “I’m really not a healer. I think… I think he’s stable. But it’s not a good stable… He’s lost blood, which I can’t do anything about. Might be in shock, too.”

“Right…” Darling looked around again at the destroyed house, the eerily silent street, their beaten and traumatized underage foes. “Well then, not only is our mission accomplished, but I think we’re about to be very unwelcome in this town. Time to be moving along. Andros, Branwen, get these three into the cells. The stasis should keep the lad stable until we can get him to an actual healer. Basra, we’re done with the…thing…in the basement. Be so kind as to kill it.”

“Excellent,” she said, already grinning and fondling her sword lovingly as she shouldered past Andros into the kitchen.

“I’m going to make a break for the scrolltower office, while the town’s asleep,” Darling said, already starting for the door. “We can’t take that wardrobe on the Rails; we’ll need transport out of here as quick as possible. Andros, I don’t anticipate more trouble, but keep everything stable here till I get back.”

The Huntsman nodded to him. Confident this situation was as under control as it could be, Darling exited through the gaping hole roughly where the front door had been and bounded down the steps.

Hamlet was downright creepy like this. The last redness of sunset had faded while they were occupied shooting up the house, but even in the darkness, the town felt dead in a way that no town should. He had an irrational thought that the residents might not be merely asleep, and made a mental note to double check on them—or at least some of them—once his immediate errand was done. Gods knew they’d have time while they waited for a coach to get out here.

It happened faster than he could react.

One instant he was disturbingly alone in the silent town, the next, the moon-cast shadows seemed to blossom all around him, spitting out half a dozen figures. All but one of them wore ash-gray robes.

Darling skidded to a stop, completely encircled. Directly in front of him, a man in a dapper white suit and matching boater hat stepped forward. His face was dark brown, homely, and brightened by an amiable smile.

“Evenin’,” he said lightly, tugging the brim of his hat. “It’s Sweet, isn’t it? I do believe you have something of mine.” That mild-mannered grin widened, and the cultists began to close in. “Well…something of my Lady’s, that is.”

“Ah,” said Darling mildly, glancing around. No gaps to exploit. “Well, you know how it is, one picks things up. What are you missing, exactly?”

“Four members of my cult.” The man’s smile faded into grimness. “And their children.”

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2 -13

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“How many, approximately?” Trissiny asked very quietly.

“Approximately fifty-one,” Fross replied. “They’re…I’m not sure what they’re doing. Milling around, listening to a big female who’s giving orders.”

On cue, the whole group paused and looked up at the rim of the canyon. Amid all the stamping and shouting, there was indeed one recurring voice which, while deep, might have been feminine. It certainly sounded authoritative.

Trissiny glanced around at her companions; they were a knot of tight, nervous faces. Only Shaeine looked truly calm, but apparently Narisians were trained for that from the cradle. Rising onto her tiptoes to look over their heads—and giving thanks for her height, for once—Trissiny scanned their environs. Nothing ideal jumped out at her, but she did spot something serviceable.

“This way, everyone,” she said, gently pushing between Toby and Ruda to lead the way up the canyon. “Quiet as you can.”

A few yards ahead was a deep alcove in the base of the canyon, protected by an overhang of rock. It was barely out of the midday sun, not deep enough to qualify as a proper cave, but it’d shield them from view if any of those above happened to glance over the edge. Following Trissiny, they filed and and huddled together; Fross descended to Juniper’s shoulder, dimming her glow almost completely.

“What do we do?” Gabriel hissed, his voice verging on panic. “Can we run? Hide in here?”

“We’re sitting ducks down here,” Ruda replied in a similar tone.

“What do you think, Trissiny?” Toby’s tone was deliberately calm. It seemed to ground the others; again, everyone looked expectantly at Trissiny.

“Whatever they’re doing up there, they don’t seem to be leaving.” She kept her tone calm and her voice low; a level-headed commander could do a lot to maintain order among frightened troops, and much as some of them might have resented her taking charge, it seemed to work. “Whether they’re settling in to camp or planning to move along the rim of the canyon to a place to cross, they’re likely to send scouts down here.”

“I think horse legs would have trouble with those cliffs,” Juniper said.

“The way we came in isn’t that far behind, and we don’t know how many other paths up or down there may be. Best to plan on having to engage them. Listen, I think we can take them.”

“Are you off your nut?” Ruda hissed furiously. “I love a good fight as much as the next girl, but we’re talking six to one odds against us!”

“As Professor Tellwyrn pointed out, we heavily outclass most threats, Ruda. That’s why all of us are at her crazy school instead of somewhere else. There was a narrow spot a bit behind us where we can make a stand—”

“You can’t seriously think—”

“Listen to me,” she said urgently, struggling to keep her voice low. Goddess, give her patience; this lack of order and discipline would be the thing that got them killed, if anything did. For a wonder, Ruda shut her mouth, glaring. “Centaurs are more of a raider than a warrior culture. Like all bullies, they’re cowards at heart; once they lose a few fighters without inflicting any losses on us, they’ll back off and avoid us thereafter. If we run, though, they will pursue. This isn’t going to end until we fight them off.”

“What the hell makes you think we can inflict losses without taking any?” Gabriel snapped, barely remembering to keep his voice low. “Or that even if we somehow do it’ll scare them off?”

“I’ve had to study every known culture that practices diabolism in an organized fashion, the tactics of every enemy the Sisters of Avei have fought over millennia, and every group considered a systemic threat to the safety of women. Believe me, my education has covered centaurs.

“Look around at us,” she continued. “Vadrieny, Juniper and Gabriel are incredibly resistant to damage, and two of the three can hit very hard, regardless of their level of martial skill. We can add me to that list as long as I’m calling on Avei’s power. That’s our front line. Ruda’s nimble and has a long reach with that rapier; she makes an ideal backup to cut down any enemies who manage to get through the first four, which is possible, as we’ll have to spread ourselves a bit to cover the canyon even at the narrow spot. Fross provides ranged magic attacks, and she’ll be virtually impossible to hit with any returned fire. Toby can heal injuries on the fly, with Omnu’s blessings, and Shaeine’s magic shield will be perfect to protect us from arrow fire from the rim of the canyon. And Rafe…” she looked over at him for a moment. “…is a Professor of the Unseen University; he’s bound to be good for something.”

“Finally, some proper respect,” he said smugly.

“We can do this,” Trissiny insisted, ignoring him. “Just hold them for a few minutes, inflict a few losses, and make it plain that we are not easy prey.”

They all stared at her for a moment, faces creased in near identical expressions of worry, silently listening to the sounds from up above. Whatever the centaurs were doing, they hadn’t left; the way sound echoed in the canyon, it was impossible to tell what direction they were moving in, but they clearly were staying in the same general vicinity. One by one, the students tore their eyes from Trissiny’s resolute face to glance around at each other.

“We’ll decide as a group,” she said quietly, “but remember, we don’t have time. They’ll start scouting any minute, if scouts aren’t already on the way. There’s no luxury of debate or long thought, here.”

“Fuck it, Shiny Boots here knows her tactics,” said Ruda, nodding to her. “I say we stand and fight.” Trissiny felt a rush of unexpected warmth toward her roommate at the endorsement.

“I’m sorry, but… I don’t want anything to do with any battle,” Teal said softly. “Not if there’s any other way.” Beside her, Shaeine nodded.

“The only unequivocal victory in battle is a battle that is avoided completely,” said the drow. “I doubt we can negotiate with these creatures, but I also cannot believe escape is impossible, given the terrain.”

“Professor Tellwyrn specifically told us to listen to Trissiny in a combat situation!” Fross said, her wings buzzing in agitation, though she was still perched on Juniper’s shoulder. “She knows the most about it, and she has a good plan. We should do that!”

Juniper nodded. “That one guy wasn’t so tough, and we weren’t really using all our resources against him. I’ve never seen organized fighting the way humans do it; we should try that, since Triss has a strategy and everything. Also, I’ve decided I really don’t like centaurs. We should definitely kill some.”

“I can’t support violent action, not when there’s a possibility of avoiding it,” Toby said gravely. “Sorry, Triss.” She nodded to him, keeping her expression even with some effort. His rejection stung especially hard. Even though she knew the reason—Omnu was a god of peace. Even though she also knew why his opinion mattered so much, which made her feel foolish to boot. This was no time to be nursing a crush.

“I hope nobody thinks I’m selfish about this,” said Gabriel, “but I really don’t like that this idea puts me on the front lines. I mean, if centaurs are big diabolists or whatever, I’m guessing they don’t have many clerics, so nothing they’ve got is actually going to hurt me. But let’s face it, I kinda suck at fighting. I feel like this is gonna lead to me being the reason one of you gets hurt. That’s…” He swallowed. “I say we run.”

Everyone turned to look at Professor Rafe. For all that Tellwyrn had insisted he wasn’t in charge or responsible for their safety, he was part of the group, and now was in a position to cast a tie-breaking vote.

“Let it never be said that Professor Rafe retreated from a fight,” he said solemnly. “All things considered, though, I think this is a good time to charge slowly and as quietly as possible in the opposite direction from the enemy. Avelea has a good strategy; we’ll do that if it comes to a scrap. But we’re better off making that plan B and trying to get away from all this horseshit. Fair?”

Trissiny drew in a deep breath slowly, nodding her acknowledgment along with the others. She shoved aside frustration—and a certain amount of hurt—to be dealt with properly in prayer, later. When there was time. For now, she still had to get these people out of danger. And no matter that they were apparently turning down her advice, she still deemed it her responsibility. The Hands of Avei existed to protect those who needed it.

“Right,” she said, briskly but quietly. “Keep the noise to a minimum. Try to hug the canyon wall to make us less visible, and absolutely no divine or infernal magic; diabolists will sense either immediately. That means no transforming, Teal.”

“It’s not actually a transformation so much as…ah.” Teal trailed off under Trissiny’s exasperated stare. “No transforming, got it.”

“I’ll take point. Juniper, bring up the rear, please. Quick and quiet, people. Let’s move.”

She slipped out of their little alcove, having to brush past Gabriel to make the exit, and set off down the edge of the canyon. Walking as close as she could to the wall but not actually sidling against it, and placing each foot as carefully as possible without sacrificing efficiency of movement or literally tiptoeing, she tried to set an example for the others to move by. It was frustrating, though unsurprising, how much noise they made, even though she was the only one in armor. Trissiny reminded herself that nobody else likely had training in operations like this, and the centaurs probably couldn’t hear them anyway over the noise they were making up above.

It was hard to figure exactly what the centaurs were up to, from a tactical standpoint. She considered sending Fross up to look again, but given the group’s decision to choose stealth over combat, decided that using a luminous scout should be kept as a backup plan, something she’d do if the pattern of noise from above changed. It didn’t, which was all the more frustrating because she couldn’t place a meaning on the pattern. They kept galloping past in both directions, as if the centaurs were running willy-nilly back and forth along the ravine’s edge. Were they scouting? The apparently aimless whooping and shouting—she didn’t understand their language but a lot of the noise was clearly just non-verbal yelling—made little sense in that context. There was no military method to it that she could grasp. Just general high-spirited antics? Or perhaps some cultural affair that would only make sense to a centaur? She could sense glimmers of infernal magic here and there, the sort consistent with the presence of warlocks, but none that seemed to be actively in use, so whatever they were up to wasn’t diabolic in nature.

Whatever it was, it seemed to range widely. No matter how quickly the students moved, they didn’t get out of range of the noise. Given their focus on quiet, they were not making great time and hadn’t been moving long, but even so, the fact that they weren’t leaving the centaurs behind grew increasingly alarming. Either they were galloping up and down the whole length of the canyon, or at least a very large stretch of it—again, why?—or the group was moving more or less along with the University group. That this might be coincidence strained credulity, to say the least. Yet, there was nothing to indicate they’d been spotted, just more galloping and whooping.

She looked back, smiling encouragingly at the others, who were looking as tense and drawn as she felt, and apparently not coping with it as well. Not for the first time, Trissiny felt homesick for the Abbey and her sisters-in-training, women who she could trust to know how to behave in a hostile situation. Much as she wanted to trust in her fellow students, she wasn’t at all sure how several of them would react to the pressure. She generally couldn’t predict how the two fae would react to anything at all… Shaeine would keep cool, and probably Toby, but Teal was way out of her comfort zone, and Gabriel…was generally hopeless. To say nothing of Rafe, who didn’t run on any kind of coherent logic.

Her right hand, which she was using to pad along the wall as she went, waved emptily at her next step and she paused, turning back around. She had come to a gap in the wall, which she’d failed to see coming up due to its narrowness; it had looked like nothing more than a crack when approached from the side. She held up a hand to signal the others to stop, studying this. It was very roughly the size and shape of a door in an average human house, though the upper edge was angled crazily and the left side bowed inward. Its edges were as rounded as every other stone in the canyon by exposure to the elements, but something about the regularity of it tugged at her mind.

“It’s out of place,” Rafe whispered, having broken formation to come up beside her. “See? Any time something happens to the rock due to natural geological forces, there are signs of it all around. Fallen rocks, cracks leading into each other. There’s no debris under this, and there are no cracks at all around it. It’s old now, but this was cut. By someone intelligent.”

“Could it be centaurs?” Gabriel asked in a hushed voice from just behind them.

Trissiny shook her head. “Look at the size of it, they couldn’t get through. It’s too short…and possibly too narrow.”

“There’s no animal life anywhere around here,” said Juniper, joining them. “Seems pretty deep, though. Fross?”

The pixie zipped forward and into the opening before Trissiny could warn her not to. Her icy glow illuminated a corridor that, though rough, was unquestionably too squared to have occurred naturally. “There’s…something,” she said, coming back to the entrance. “It’s not arcane or nature magic, and it’s not strong. Hard to identify… It’s like a faded old echo of a spell.”

“Infernal?” asked Teal from behind them.

“I don’t sense anything like that,” Trissiny said, “though it’s a little hard to tell; there are definitely warlocks up above, and that might be throwing me off. Toby?”

“I don’t think so.” He joined the growing cluster around the opening. “No, I’m pretty sure there’s nothing like that in there, at least not within the range of my senses.”

“Okay, so…empty cave, made by people, too small for centaurs to follow us in, no animals or bad juju. Why the fuck are we just standing around instead of getting in there, then?” Ruda demanded.

“Because this is too convenient,” said Gabriel, getting several nods of agreement.

“Convenient or no, I say we take it,” said Trissiny. “We’re not getting any farther away from them. If they’re not following us deliberately, the chances of them noticing us get higher the longer this goes on. We can wait in there till they pass us by, and if they do find where we’ve gone…this gap is very defensible. I think I could hold it by myself, even.”

So saying, she ducked inside, having decided after the last episode that the surest way to get this group to comply with sense was not to offer them an alternative. What she wouldn’t give for a functioning chain of command…

Fross bobbed alongside her, providing ample light that didn’t require Trissiny to call on divine energy. Aside from the fact that it seemed somehow sacrilegious to use the power of the gods given to her to heal the innocent and strike down the wicked as a lamp, Gabriel’s presence in the group complicated the matter further.

The floor ascended gently as they went. Trissiny had to wonder if this was leading toward an exit onto the prairie, in which case they were heading straight for a centaur encounter unless the tunnel was extremely long. It didn’t get quite that far, however. About the time the floor of the tunnel reached the height of the upper edge of its outer door, it abruptly evened off and turned sharply to the right, leading back in the direction from which they’d originally come along the canyon floor. She paused at this point to give the others a chance to regather, noting that Shaeine had lit herself with a silver glow which seemed to be causing Gabriel, who was right in front of her, no distress.

Now, the magical light put off by Fross and Shaeine was their only illumination. Fortunately, this next leg of the corridor wasn’t quite as long. After only a few dozen steps it terminated in an arched doorway, much more evenly cut than the exterior opening, which opened into a much broader chamber. Three steps led down from the door to the ground in here. Trissiny descended carefully, scanning the space for any signs of trouble.

There was none; she had the strong impression that no one and nothing had been here for a very long time, and not just because her boots made significant prints in the otherwise undisturbed layer of dust on the floor. There was a heaviness, a gravitas to the chamber that was something more than just her emotional response to entering a dark, empty space.

“Fross?”

“Yeah?”

“That feeling you mentioned outside, about something vague in here… Is it stronger here?”

“Ohhhh, yeah. You feel it too, now?”

“I think so. Do you think it’s dangerous?”

Fross didn’t answer for a moment, zipping back and forth in the air just above Trissiny’s head. “I don’t…think so. But I’ve got the impression it’s sort of…barely…maybe… Conscious.”

Trissiny nodded slowly. But she neither felt nor saw anything she could interpret as a threat, and stepped aside to let the others gather in the chamber.

The impressiveness of its size was partly an illusion due to the cramped tunnel through which they’d reached it. All in all, the space was smaller than the chapel back at the University; high by the standards of an average house, but she could have reached the ceiling by extending one arm overhead and hopping unenthusiastically. It was maybe fifteen feet wide and a little more than twice that in length, with the doorway standing on one of the short sides. Small enough that their relatively modest light sources touched the far wall and their group made the near end seem rather crowded once they’d all pushed inside.

Along every visible inch of the walls were crude paintings of the sort that supposedly adorned lizardfolk caves, though these walls were perfectly square-cut. Done in dull colors, mostly reds and blues, with brown and black lines, they seemed to depict scenes of battle, with figures mostly on horseback but sometimes afoot brandishing a variety of weapons. The lower parts of them weren’t completely visible, due to an assortment of actual weapons lining the walls along the floor. Axes and swords were present, but the most commonly represented were spears, some decorated near the head with brightly colored feathers, now faded and scraggly with age. Bows and bundles of arrows were also present in abundance. Most of these were stored in large clay jars decorated with more paintings similar to those on the walls, but quite a few were also stacked in baskets, or on wooden racks. The jars and racks were mostly intact and the weapons generally in decent (if long-neglected) shape, but some of the baskets had broken apart to dump their contents onto the floor, and in several places arrows were scattered in heaps where the thongs holding together them had broken.

Occupying pride of place in the chamber, however, was a huge oblong slab of stone, apparently of a piece with the floor, having been carved out of the living rock. A precise line ran all the way around it where the upper piece, about a foot thick, was apparently detachable, resting on top. It was set far back enough that they had room to gather near the steps, and of roughly the same proportions as the long chamber itself. Though devoid of any decoration, either carved or painted, it was unquestionably a sarcophagus.

“Whoah,” Teal said softly.

“This place should be treated with respect,” said Shaeine, echoing what they all felt.

“It couldn’t be…” Professor Rafe shouldered past the group, frowning with uncharacteristic intensity at the wall paintings. “Could it? I think… Surely not, it’s not possible. But…” Picking his way carefully around jars and over piles of arrows, he followed along one side of the room, scanning the wall paintings as if reading a story, though there were no words in any language. “It might be… I don’t believe it. It really… I think…” He came back toward them, still carefully watching the paintings as though they might have changed in the last few seconds, his expression one of growing awe. “My gods, I do believe it is!”

“I think he’s trying to communicate,” said Gabriel

“Guys!” Rafe turned to face them directly, his face practically shining with joy. “I think this is the tomb of Horsebutt the Enemy!”

Gabriel sighed. “Nevermind.”

“Wait…are you serious?” Teal stepped down from the doorway, frowning at the walls. “How can you possibly tell that?”

“Look at the pictograms! See, there’s no actual writing, but these look exactly like Stalweiss tomb decorations, which, come on, how many Eastern barbarians would be buried in the Golden Sea?”

“But…really?” Teal began slowly retracing Rafe’s steps, frowing intently at the paintings. “It’s obviously a battle… But the Horsebutt? What are the odds?”

“Wait, what?” Gabriel said sharply.

“Like I said, who else?”

“It does seem to strain the bounds of coincidence,” Trissiny said frowning. “At the same time, the Sea moves unpredictably, but not necessarily randomly. If our steps are being guided toward some purpose… Perhaps. And Rafe is right, they do look like early Shaathist battle paintings. No one touch the walls; if they’re done in the traditional ash pigments they could be very fragile.”

“I almost can’t believe it!” Rafe spun dizzily in a circle, grinning madly at every inch of the tomb. “Arachne would chew her foot off with envy! Horsebutt’s tomb!”

“Are you guys pranking me?” Gabriel demanded shrilly. “Because this is not the time!”

Trissiny frowned at him. “Have you seriously never heard of Horsebutt the Enemy?”

“Stop saying that! It can’t possibly be a name!”

“I haven’t either,” Toby said more quietly.

“Um, you guys went to an Imperial public school, right?” Teal said hesitantly.

Gabriel scowled at her. “What of it?”

“It’s just that… Horsebutt’s campaign against the Empire was basically the last act of the Enchanter Wars. That whole business has been covered up and changed in retrospect by so many different factions that even the historians aren’t exactly sure what happened…”

“I guess you haven’t gotten to that in Arachne’s class yet,” Rafe said absently, still ogling the tomb paintings avidly. “She was ass-deep in the whole thing.”

“…yeah, well, anyway, nobody came out of it looking good, and the Tiraan Empire ended up looking worse than most. In fact, by most accounts the Empire itself was nearly broken. I’ve heard some versions where it was overthrown, and then got pieced back together after the fact. Point being, most official Imperial sources hush it all up pretty hard.”

“I’d hush it up too if I got my ass kicked by somebody named Horsebutt,” Gabriel scoffed.

“If it helps you,” Teal said, grinning, “his name in the original language was Heshenaad.”

“Yes. That helps. Let’s please say that from now on.”

“Yeah, especially considering we’re maybe standing in the guy’s fucking tomb, and our resident pixie wizard thinks there’s some kind of mojo still working here,” Ruda said sharply. “Might not hurt if everybody showed a little goddamn respect.”

There was a momentary silence while they considered that.

Teal cleared her throat. “Anyhow… Heshenaad was actually an honor name given to him when he distinguished himself in battle. The Stalweiss, uh, have different ideas about respect than we do.”

“Boy, that’s for damn sure,” said Rafe, turning back toward them and grinning. “Just because the Easterners decide you’re hot shit doesn’t mean you can go around calling yourself by whatever honor name they give you. Arachne’s practically a demigod over there and you should hear what they call her. Teal, don’t wander off!”

“There’s no off to wander to!” Teal protested, picking her way carefully toward the shadowed back of the tomb. “I just wanna look at the paintings…” Her voice trailed off as she rounded the end of the sarcophagus, gazing up raptly at the walls. Shaeine went after her, carefully holding up the hem of her robe out of the arrow piles and taking her silver glow along, leaving Fross’s light the only illumination for the rest of them.

“Wait, what do they call Professor Tellwyrn?” Ruda asked, grinning.

Rafe winced. “Um… I don’t remember. Ask Chase when we get home, he loves to share embarrassing stories.”

“Anyway,” Trissiny said firmly, “Horsebutt—”

“Heshenaad!”

“—the Enemy was a barbarian cavalry leader who pillaged his way across Imperial territory from the Stalrange to the Golden Sea, where he effectively trapped himself. Indirectly he’s responsible for reuniting the fragments of the Empire, giving the factions a common enemy and a reason to rally together again under the restored Emperor. Some historians think he might have been manipulated into his campaign for exactly that reason. He actually survived within the Sea itself for almost ten years, which made him a severe threat, as no one knew where he’d strike. Even he didn’t; his raiders would just come out of the Sea at whatever random point it spat them out, then vanish back into it. He’s the reason the Empire has such a solid military infrastructure around the frontier, even now.”

“Hm,” said Toby thoughtfully. “Sounds like he did the Empire quite a few favors, then, however unintentionally.”

Trissiny nodded. “That’s why he’s remembered as the Enemy. At the time he lived, an enemy was exactly what the Empire needed, something to band together against. If not for him… The continent might be a patchwork of kingdoms again, like in the Age of Adventures. No Empire, no Church, likely no Rail or telescroll networks even if humanity still had the chance to develop those enchantments…”

“How’d he die?” Gabriel asked, looking interested in spite of himself.

“Nobody knows.” She shook her head. “He was always guaranteed to lose what had become a war of attrition. His forces took losses with every raid, with no way to get reinforcements from the Stalrange, and their successful attacks grew fewer and farther between as the Empire moved more resources to the frontier, at the same time it was developing better weapons. That was about the time the earliest battlestaves and wands were used by the Imperial Army. He was also doubtless losing forces to centaurs and whatever else lives in the Sea… Some thought he must have a fortress out here, but since his tomb is in a ravine in the middle of nowhere, it seems more likely they were just living nomadically, like the centaurs and plains elves. A decade after his horde made it to the Sea, their attacks just…trailed off. Eventually it was assumed that he’d died, but no one ever learned how.” She turned slowly in place, looking around at the tomb. “People have been hunting for his tomb for all the usual reasons. Everyone figured a great raider would be buried with fabulous riches or something. All I see are weapons, though…”

“Yeah, riches,” said Ruda firmly. “He was laid to rest with what his culture considered important. The things that matter to a warrior. All this stuff would have been sacred to the Stalweiss, therefore nobody is fucking touching a thing. You don’t fuck around with a great man’s resting place.”

Though there was enough airflow from the open door that the air in the tomb didn’t seem poisonous or even very stale, it had been dead still the whole time they were present, only the tiny breeze of their passing stirring the dust on the floor. As she spoke, however, there came a short, faint gust of wind, ruffling Ruda’s coat and blowing back the few strands of her hair that had come loose from her braid. Her eyes widened slightly; the others shifted away from her.

“I think he likes you,” Fross noted.

Rafe cleared his throat. “Ah, yeah, anyway, everybody get a good look; who knows when anyone will see this place again, if ever. But yes, let’s be respectful. The last thing we need on top of our other problems is to incur the Curse of Horsebutt.”

“Why is this my life?” Gabriel asked of the ceiling.

“What Ruda and Trissiny said goes. Don’t touch the paintings, don’t take any souvenirs. In fact, just don’t mess with the weaponry at all. Meanwhile, we’ve got more immediate problems.” Rafe cut his eyes toward the now-dark opening to the passage beyond. “With apologies to our host, we’re gonna have to park it here for a little while. Somebody can scout down near the door and keep an ear out; we better not try to leave until our friends up there have moved on, and there’s no telling how long that’ll take.”

“It better not be too long,” Gabriel muttered. “That whole ‘respect’ thing is gonna get a hell of a lot harder as soon as somebody needs to take a piss.”

“Good gods, don’t even joke,” Rafe groaned. “We’ll…figure something out. Somebody can check the canyon, see if there’s a convenient…uh, spot…near the entrance. Whatever happens, we’re staying the hell put until it’s safe. If it comes down to it, I’d rather stay out here with Heshenaad than go back and explain to Taath K’varr how I got you lot killed.”

“Wait, what?” Coming back around the sarcophagus the other way, Teal stopped suddenly and frowned at him, apparently having caught only the last part of that. “Who’s a golden bitch?”

There was one beat of silence, and then Ruda collapsed onto the steps, howling with laughter.

“Great,” Rafe said dourly. “You wanna put a cork in it, Punaji? That’s probably echoing all the way to the—”

He cut off, and so did she, as a heavy thudding began all around them. They all jerked to attention, staring wide-eyed at each other. The noise was relatively faint, as though heard from a distance or through a thick barrier, but seemed to resonate unnaturally in the very air around them. It seemed to be coming mostly from the ceiling, to judge by the tiny streams of dust that fell with each pound, but echoed sharply from the tunnel.

“Is that who I think it is?” Teal asked wanly.

“Centaur war drums,” said Trissiny, unconsciously gripping her sword.

Gabriel gulped. “Please tell me they’re having a square dance.”

“War drums, Gabe,” she said tersely. “Those are magical. They’re a weapon; they only use them in the presence of enemies.”

“Then…” Toby trailed off, staring at her.

She nodded. “Either they’ve found somebody to fight up there… Or they know we’re here.”

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2 – 12

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“Why can’t they just look like the illustrations in the book?” Trissiny complained.

“I guess the plants just don’t feel a need to conform to your expectations,” Toby said, smiling. “Maybe Juniper could carry a complaint to Naiya for you?”

“Actually, that would be a really bad idea,” Juniper called from a few yards away. “She doesn’t have a lot of patience for complainers.”

Trissiny just grumbled, staring at the sad little cluster of leaves in her hand, wondering whether to pick it and add it to her collection. “I can’t tell if this is a twisted, undernourished specimen or just…not a versithorae.”

“Rafe did say those wouldn’t be as common,” Gabriel said, craning his neck around Toby to peer at her. “I mean, look how thick the brush is around here. Stands to reason there’s been no burning for a while. Versithorae like ash.”

With a sigh, Trissiny plucked the scraggly little plant and pressed it into the small book Rafe had issued for the purpose. “Well, whatever, I’m counting it. If I’m wrong, the worst thing that’ll happen is I get a poor grade in herbalism. I’ve yet to hear someone explain why I should care about that.”

Gabriel laughed; she ignored him, turning toward another clump of brush in search of the next item on her list.

The Sea had dropped an interesting geographical feature into their path, and Rafe had not hesitated to make homework of it. A crater, deep but sloping gently due to its considerable width, was set in the floor of the prairie, its lip surrounded by a rim of thick trees that made it look like a patch of jungle when approached from the outside. Within, however, the broad bowl was filled with bushes and lush grasses, around a small, almost perfectly circular lake in the center. After having seen nothing but miles and miles of amber tallgrass, the various shades of green were a relief for the senses.

They had paused to enjoy the little oasis, but Rafe had also set them to collecting and identifying plant samples, as he had at the last such feature they’d encountered, which was a near perfect opposite of this one: a steep, rounded hill rising out of the prairie, covered with towering trees. Two days after their brush with the centaur at the hot springs, they had seen no other signs of intelligent life, and were beginning to relax a little.

Everyone remained in sight of each other, though it wasn’t hard; the underbrush wasn’t as tall as the tallgrass, and the sloping geography of the crater made everything visible from any point within. They’d wandered off into smaller groups, though. Only Rafe was by himself, apparently asleep on the shore of the lake. Teal and Shaeine were prowling up near the lip of the crater, where the shade of the trees was more comfortable for the drow. Ruda was making methodical progress through a swath of brush with her list in hand, Fross buzzing about her head to help spot plants, and Juniper ranging widely around them—and doing more goofing off than work, or at least so it appeared to the others. Much like her performance their first day in the University’s greenhouse, she seemed delighted to meet every plant she came across, and determined to introduce herself to each of them. The last group was mostly quiet and somewhat more tense. Trissiny and Gabriel had both gravitated toward Toby, but were little inclined to talk to each other.

Trissiny knelt to rummage beneath a bush, looking for the shade-loving ground cover plants near the bottom of her list. Behind her, Toby nudged Gabriel with an elbow, then jerked his head significantly in her direction. Gabe grimaced, shaking his head emphatically; Toby bopped him gently on the forehead. With a sigh, the half-demon took a hesitant step toward her, squaring his shoulders as if about to march into a dragon’s den.

“So,” he said with forced lightness, “I keep forgetting to mention it, Trissiny, but I think we know one of your relatives.”

“What?!” She shot upright and spun so abruptly that Gabe staggered backward, raising his hands to ward her off. Her expression was a blend of shock and disbelief.

“I…uh…I… A teacher!” he stammered, still backpedaling. “At our school, growing up… There was a Ms. Avelea who taught history. I liked her a lot better than Tellwyrn.”

“Oh.” Trissiny relaxed, then, disconcertingly, chuckled. “Oh. You startled me for a moment.”

“I, um, noticed. Sorry? I…think I’ve missed something.”

She shook her head, still smiling ruefully. “Avelea is the surname given to orphans raised by the Sisters of Avei. So, in a sense… Yes, your teacher would be my sister, as we all are. I doubt I’ve met her, though. Hardly any of us with the name share even a drop of blood.”

“Oh,” he said, then grimaced. “So that… Oh. So when I talked about your relatives out of nowhere, that probably sounded like…”

“Like more of what I generally expect from you,” she replied, turning back to the bush.

“Um…sorry. I didn’t realize…”

“No harm done.” Trissiny spoke without turning around, her voice somewhat muffled by the foliage. “Or meant, I’m sure.”

“I wouldn’t have deliberately pushed a button like that,” he said, sounding lame even to himself. “I was just…trying to be friendly.”

“Okay.”

Gabriel sighed again, staring at her back. He turned to face Toby, shrugging. Toby rolled his eyes and made a shooing gesture in Trissiny’s direction, getting another emphatic headshake in reply.

“Guys?” Juniper eased up out of a nearby stand of broad-leafed grass in which she’d been crouching. Her voice was pitched lower than usual. “Trissiny? Stand up slowly and come over here.”

“Why? What’s up?”

“You’re being stalked. I’m gonna try to put myself between—”

She spun mid-sentence and leaped to one side as an enormous shape exploded out of a nearby copse of bushes, lunging at Gabriel. Juniper collided with it in midair; she brought a hand down on the animal’s head, eliciting a howl of protest, and they both crashed to the ground, immediately springing apart.

It was a cat, that much was obvious, though the thing was the size of a horse. Its tawny coat made for poor camouflage in the green crater, but would have suited it ideally out among the tallgrass of the prairie. Most alarmingly, it had two colossal fangs protruding from its upper mouth, each the length of a human forearm. The cat rolled to its feet immediately, glaring at Juniper, but did not lunge at her again, even though she was slower to regain her balance. With the two of them standing so close together, it seemed absurd that her weight could have been enough to slow the creature, much less knock it down.

Toby and Trissiny both burst alight, golden radiance flaring up around them, and sending Gabriel staggering away, retching in pain. Trissiny drew her blade, but didn’t even have time to step around Juniper to face the cat.

Vadrieny landed beside them with a thump, having hit the ground hard from a steep dive. The great cat whirled to face her, but the demon extended her burning wings to their full extent, flexed her talons, and screamed.

Gabriel and Juniper both backed away, clutching at their ears in pain; only the two paladins seemed protected. The sound was abominable, a protracted shriek somewhat like the cry of a hawk, but filled with an impossible fury that clawed at the brain, and with a shrill resonance like nails on a blackboard.

The cat flattened its ears back against its skull, dropping to the ground. It stared at Vadrieny for a bare few seconds before turning and bounding away with a howl of protest. Within moments, it had ascended to the rim of trees and vanished beyond the crater.

It took the sudden silence following the demon’s cry for them to realize just how noisy the crater had been, before. Insects, birds and frogs from the lake had all filled the air with the sounds of life; now, dead silence descended, broken only by the faint voice of the wind. And then by Gabriel.

“What the hell was that?!”

“Smilodon,” said Ruda, having just made it there. Her sword was out, but she was simply staring after the departing animal, letting the blade trail among the grass. “Damn… Never thought I’d see something like that. We got a skeleton of one back home, but they’re supposed to be extinct.”

“Like centaurs,” said Trissiny.

“Triss, would you mind awfully turning down the glow a bit?” Gabriel asked. He was standing a good fifteen feet from her, but still wincing at the light she was putting off. Toby had extinguished his as soon as the cat had departed. She turned her head to regard him silently for a moment, but then allowed the light to wink out. “Thanks.”

“There’s lots of supposedly extinct stuff still bopping around in the Golden Sea,” Professor Rafe said brightly, arriving along with Shaeine. “The thing I wonder about is what it was doing in here! Do you guys see any prey animals? Cos I sure don’t.”

“Oh, it probably just came to drink,” said Juniper. “I don’t guess there are a lot of sources of fresh water out there. Actually…it is sort of puzzling how a predator that size lives in the Sea. Aside from those bison, we haven’t seen a lot of animals big enough to support him.”

“Maybe the Sea takes them where they need to go,” Gabe suggested. “And on the subject of going, I’m of the opinion that the charm has gone out of this place.”

“Oh, please, you heard the tree lady,” Ruda said, grinning. “The big kitty’s gone, probably a hundred miles away on a Sea shift by now. We’re safer here.”

“Nonsense! We move on!” Rafe declared, pointing dramatically at the rim of the crater. “Everybody pack up your samples and lace up your boots, we’ve tarried plenty long enough! We’ve been going mostly uphill, deeper into the Sea, and not getting much action except for the odd bit of pretty scenery. From now on, we travel…SIDEWAYS!”

With this declaration, he marched off, heading for the edge of the crater. After exchanging a round of significant glances, the students began trailing after him.

“Was that more joking?” Fross asked uncertainly. “Because I’m not wearing boots.”

“For purposes of this discussion, sure, it was joking,” Ruda said. “But don’t repeat any jokes you hear from Rafe, they’ll just make you sound like a fucking idiot. Gods know they do him.”

“I was starting to figure that part out anyway, but thank you.”

“Now that you brought it up, I’m really curious about how something that size makes a living out here,” Gabriel mused as they walked. “It could probably bring down a bison pretty easily, but they travel in big groups.”

“We brought one down easy enough,” said Ruda.

“Um, no, ‘we’ didn’t,” Fross corrected. “Juniper did. And no animal would attack a dryad unless it was mentally damaged. You saw how even the smilodon didn’t jump after her even after she hit it.”

“Maybe we’re just a rare delicacy, then,” Gabriel said lightly. “I wonder what human tastes like.”

“It might be best,” Trissiny said without turning around to look at him, “if you in particular didn’t wonder about things like that out loud.”

“A lot like pig,” said Juniper, who was in the lead of the group. “Or…I guess you’d call it pork when you’re eating it. Which is really funny when you think about it! There’s, like, no resemblance at all. Maybe humans and pigs evolved from the same kind of animal?”

She continued blithely on in Professor Rafe’s tracks, apparently unaware that the entire group had come to a stop and were staring at her back.

“Wait, so… How does she know what humans taste like?”

Ruda sighed. “Welcome to the conversation, Fross.”

“Thanks! I’m still confused, though.”

“You’re probably better off.”


Some time after noon, they encountered other travelers for the first time.

Rafe, walking in the head of the group as usual, was the first to spot them. Trissiny, following his pointing finger, discerned them immediately, but it was some minutes before the others could make anything out beyond a faint smudge of dust thrown into the air. Two covered wagons, pulled by oxen, were on the way directly toward them, heading downhill and thus to the edge of the Sea. Moving east as they were, the students could likely have avoided the other party entirely by continuing on their way, but by consensus everyone stopped to meet the others. Aside from the fact that they were supposed to be having encounters with denizens of the Golden Sea, the alternative of traipsing along through endless tallgrass was just plain boring.

They had plenty of time to arrange themselves and watch the others approach. The occupants of the second wagon were hidden by the first, but those driving the lead wagon were visible: a man and a woman, both human, and both dressed in typical frontier style, in denim trousers and plain buttoned shirts. He was blonde and fair, as was pretty common among frontier towns, with a ten-gallon hat shielding him from the sun; she was dark-haired and had a swarthy Tiraan complexion. Both carried staves, which they raised and aimed at the students when they drew close.

Trissiny and Toby both glowed subtly, probably not enough to be noticeable in the sunlight, but ready to throw up divine shields at need. Standing just behind them, Shaeine drew on her own power, a silver luminescence rising around her hands, which were folded behind her back.

The wagons rumbled to a halt, their occupants surveying the nine of them warily. Toby cleared his throat, opening his mouth to speak.

“BEHOLD!” Rafe bellowed, grinning maniacally and throwing his arms wide. Toby sighed.

“Yeah, we see you,” said the woman, shifting her staff to aim at him in particular. “Weren’t expecting to meet any other adventurers, specially not on foot at this time of day. The sun’s not—holy fuck, is that a drow?”

Toby cleared his throat. “We don’t mean you any harm. I don’t begrudge you holding weapons, this being dangerous territory and all, but would you mind not pointing them at my friends?”

“I mind a little,” said the man. His expression remained cold, and his staff remained aimed at Trissiny, who he had clearly decided was the most obvious threat. “I see you’ve got a Sister along, which is a little reassuring. Fact remains, though, it’s been years since there was loot in any quantity to be found in the Sea. Most reliable way to strike it rich out here is to rob somebody else who’s already done the heavy digging. It ain’t wise for us to be too friendly toward strangers.”

“Ooh, you looted something good? Nice!” Ruda grinned widely. “What’d ya get?”

Both of them shifted, aiming their staves at her. “Don’t see how it’s any of your business,” the man said grimly.

“If I may?” Gabriel stepped forward. “We don’t want or need your loot. We are on a glorious quest to wander around the prairie like idiots for an indeterminate amount of time until this head case over here decides we can go home.” He jerked a thumb at Rafe, who grinned delightedly.

The pair eyed him, then glanced at each other. The woman, though, relaxed and raised her staff to point at the sky. “Ah, I see. Kids from Tellwyrn’s University, then?”

“I’m a little troubled by how obvious that apparently is,” said Teal.

“That’s another matter,” said the man, also lifting his weapon. “Sorry for the rude welcome. Can’t be too careful out here.”

“No harm done,” Toby said, smiling. “It’s a good idea to be cautious, especially in a place like this. Have you run into much trouble?”

“Not of the kind that’s likely to be roaming around makin’ a pest of itself,” the man replied, then leaned over to spit to the side. “We did come across some ruins down in a canyon… Full o’ monsters, but a fairly decent haul for the effort. You’ll forgive me if I don’t give you directions.”

“Of course,” Toby replied equably. “It wouldn’t do us much good anyway; I doubt the way there still exists. Or if it does, it leads somewhere else by now.”

“True enough.”

“I should warn you that there are centaurs on the move,” he went on more seriously. “The Golden Sea being what it is, there’s no telling how close they might be. But we’ve encountered a lone scout, which we killed, and met an elf who said there’s an entire group of as many as sixty still in this general region. If…we’re still in that general region. It’s hard to say.”

The man and woman exchanged a long, serious look.

“That’s troubling news,” she said slowly. “The Sea doesn’t commonly shift you by a huge amount at one time…except that sometimes it does, but if you’ve seen something, it’s likely to stay in your general area until you do some serious walking. When was this?”

“Two days ago.”

“We appreciate the warning,” said the man, tipping his hat to them. “Not much to be done about it except keep our eyes out and weapons up, but…forewarned is forearmed, as they say.”

“Of course,” he replied. “I wouldn’t want anybody to wander into them by mistake.”

“You’ll pardon us if we don’t hang around to chat, but with this news especially, we’re eager to get outta the Sea and back to somewhere we can start spending our haul.”

“Of course,” Toby said again. “Thanks for talking with us.”

“Mm,” the man said noncommittally, and flicked his reins. He tugged the brim of his hat again as the oxen started moving. “Y’all take care.”

They stood aside to let the tiny wagon train pass. Driving the second cart was a blonde man with subtly pointed ears, doubtless a half-elf, with a much scruffier man beside him, both also holding staves. They nodded to the students in passing, but didn’t offer a word of greeting.

“So,” Ruda said thoughtfully, “ruins. Wonder what our odds are of finding those?”

“Dismal,” said Rafe cheerily. “But worry not, my little chickens! It’s the Golden Sea, after all. We’re sure to find something rewardingly deadly, if we only persevere and have faith!”

“Seriously,” said Gabe. “Is there a medical term for what’s wrong with you?”

“It’s called genius, y’little hellbug. All right, that’s enough lollygaggin’. ONWARD TO FUCKING GLORY!”


Given the lack of general interest in the Sea’s terrain—amber waves of grain were scenic and all, but got old quickly when there was nothing else to see—when the students found anything interesting, they made a beeline for it. Thus, when a canyon opened up before them, the group headed into it without a second thought. It began as a little dip in the level of the plain, but the tallgrass quickly faded away, yielding to gravel and dusty rock, with increasingly tall stone walls to either side.

“And what happens if there’s not a convenient exit at the other end of this?” Gabriel asked, after they had hiked deep enough into the ravine that the entrance was no longer visible behind them.

“Then we backtrack!” Rafe said cheerfully. “Anyhow, these things often have side branches, so don’t assume the exit’s in a straight line ahead. Besides, odds are good we’ll find something cool! Most of the interesting stuff in the Sea is attached to some anomaly in the geography. Once in a while you do find things just sitting around on the prairie, but odds are much better within the hills and canyons and whatnot.”

“That guy on the wagon said they found ruins and treasure in a canyon,” Ruda commented, gesticulating vaguely with a half-consumed bottle of whiskey. “Think this might be it?”

“Not likely,” said Toby. “He also said that canyon was full of monsters.”

“I don’t think we’ve gone deep enough into this one yet to determine what it might be full of,” Trissiny said grimly. “In hindsight, I wish I’d thought to ask him exactly what kind of ‘monsters’ they were.”

Teal stopped short, raising her head. “Something…does anyone else hear that?”

“What?” Rafe paused, looking back at her. “I don’t, and my hearing is exceptional.”

“Hoofbeats,” Shaeine said tersely.

The others glanced at one another, but before anybody could voice a question, the sound grew loud enough to be audible to everyone. Nervously, the group pulled together and by silent consensus pressed themselves against the canyon wall. Above, the noise grew until it was obviously right above them.

“Could be bison,” Gabriel said. “Or wild horses. Unicorns…”

A long, whooping shout echoed from above, followed by answering yells in a language none of them understood. The steady drum of hooves all moving in unison changed tempo, fading into the more chaotic noise of creatures stomping about in one place.

“With riders?” Gabe suggested weakly.

“Fross,” Trissiny said very quietly, “would you mind having a look?”

The pixie didn’t reply verbally, but zipped straight upward to the rim of the canyon. Her glow, already hard to spot in the bright sunlight, dimmed further. Seconds later, she shot back down to rejoin them. Nobody was surprised when she said exactly what they did not want to hear.

“Centaurs.”

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2 – 8

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Ruda yawned hugely as she descended the rocky incline to the plain below. The chilly gray of predawn lingered in the sheltered area she was headed for, where the rocky outcropping cast a long shadow; everywhere else, the endless expanse of tallgrass blazed red and gold with the sunrise. She’d paused to admire this briefly, but Zaruda Punaji had seen her share of sunrises. What was going on below was far more interesting.

Yawning again, she flopped down on a low, flat lump of stone next to Shaeine and watched Trissiny and Teal exercising on the area of flattened grass they’d already created with their exertions. The paladin was dressed but not armored or armed—her gear sat nearby—and she looked as alert and energetic as if she’d just spent an uninterrupted night in a luxurious feather bed. Ruda didn’t know how the hell that girl always looked in top shape, but it was maddening. Teal was no longer visibly groggy, as they’d been at it for a good ten minutes already, but her movements were stiff and showed weariness.

They weren’t actually sparring, but drilling. Punches, first with one hand then the other; from the shoulder, from the waist, overhand, underhand. Twenty repetitions of each while Trissiny called out a cadence and corrected the other girl’s form.

“I dunno how the hell you can stand that,” Ruda said when the paladin called a rest and Teal flexed her spine, grimacing. “The same damn thing over and over. That’s not fighting, it’s homework.”

“You repeat motions until your body knows them,” Trissiny said, her voice thick with patience that made Ruda want to club her. “Till you don’t have to think about every move you make in a fight, because a real fight won’t give you the luxury. The point of the homework is to get them down perfectly, so that when they’re needed, they will be perfect.”

“Bah. You want to learn to fight, you go out and fucking fight. You can talk about form and stance and technique till you pass out, but when it comes down to it, what matters is that you have the will to fuck somebody up.” She removed her hat, dropping it next to Trissiny’s armor, and grinned. “People who’ve never been in an actual scrap don’t realize just how big a deal that is. A person who’s right in the head doesn’t want to inflict pain. You’re drilling to fight right, when the truth is that fighting well means being just a little bit…wrong.”

“I think it’s interesting that Professor Ezzaniel’s never had us spar with each other,” Trissiny replied coolly. “Don’t you?”

“I always thought that was a pretty good idea,” Teal commented, slightly out of breath.

“Why,” Ruda drawled, “you afraid of learning there’s a pirate-shaped hole in our fancy-ass technique?”

“If you’ll recall,” the paladin replied evenly, “we tested this once. Or rather, you did.”

Ruda was on her feet before she decided to be. “Are you saying you want a rematch?”

“Ladies,” Shaeine said firmly, “let’s please be civil.”

“I agree,” Trissiny said, nodding at her. “We’re just here to practice. If you don’t mind learning some pure technique, Zaruda, you’d be welcome to join us.”

“Do I fucking look like I need your help?”

“Yes.”

She bounded off the rock and stomped over to stand inches from Trissiny. Immediately she regretted this decision; the other girl was a head taller, and Ruda had to crane her neck to make eye contact. The hell she was going to back down, though. “Where I come from, that’s a challenge.”

“Yes, it is a challenge,” Trissiny replied, still insufferably calm. “I’m not interested in a real battle with you, Ruda, because that would be unfair even if we were unquestionably equal in skill. I have powers at my command that you just can’t contend with. But again, we are here to practice. If you’re willing, I’d like to see what you can show me.”

Ruda took the excuse of thrusting a finger into her face to step back. “No magic, no weapons.”

“Agreed.”

She unbuckled her whole belt and threw it to one side, rapier and all, and instantly lunged forward, driving a fist at Trissiny’s midsection.

Trissiny spun to one side, slapping her arm away and sending Ruda stumbling past her. She wheeled around, lashing out again and following up with a flurry of punches; the taller girl ducked and dodged, deflecting blows with precise little motions when evasion wasn’t possible. It took only a scant few moments of this before Ruda could positively taste the rage on the back of her tongue.

“Fucking fight back, you bitch!” she screamed, swinging a wild haymaker at the paladin’s jaw.

Trissiny grabbed her wrist, then her upper arm with the other hand, and flipped her neatly overhead. Ruda slammed into the ground on her back, hard enough that she saw spots and momentarily lost the ability to breathe. When her senses swam back into focus, the first thing she became aware of was Trissiny’s foot on her neck.

It was withdrawn immediately, but as far as Ruda was concerned, the damage was done.

She lay there, gasping, and squeezed her eyes shut, forcing back tears and a sob of pure, undiluted frustration. The hell she was going to show that kind of weakness here.

“You’re sloppy,” Trissiny said inexorably. “You let anger drive your movements, which makes you predictable. You have little fine control or even awareness of your body.”

“Shut the fuck up,” she hissed. All of this she’d heard from Ezzaniel.

Trissiny just sat down in the grass beside her. “And not one of those things is a fault of yours,” she said. Ruda kept her eyes closed, recovering her breath as the paladin continued. “You’ve got bad habits, that’s all. You’re clearly an experienced fighter, Ruda. That ferocity you were talking about is there; if you’d just practice, solidify the technique, you’d be an absolute terror.” She sighed. “And I’d really like to work with you on it, but I feel like you take it as an insult that I know something you don’t.”

“I take it as an insult,” Ruda growled, “that you think you’re better than me.”

“I’m better at something than you, which is a whole different thing. Once when I was fed up with being smacked around by the older girls training me, I asked my instructor how long it would take before I’d be considered a master. She laughed at me, and said a master is whoever’s been working at it long enough to have failed more times than you’ve tried.”

A long silence stretched out, and Ruda eventually opened her eyes. Trissiny was watching her face.

“It seems to me we each know some things the other doesn’t,” she said gently. “We’re students. It’s not a contest. I’m willing to teach you, Ruda, and I don’t think it’d make me weaker to learn from you. If anything, it would make us both stronger.”

Ruda groaned and threw an arm over her eyes. “There you go, doing that paladin thing again. How do you just pull wisdom out of your ass like that?”

“Because a lot of women who know more about the world than I ever will spent a lot of time stuffing it up there. I’ve got quite a backlog at this point.”

“Well, that was a mental image I didn’t fucking need.”

Trissiny laughed lightly. “Well, the offer stands. Teal and I do this every morning before breakfast; we’d both love to have you join. I would really appreciate it, though, if you didn’t call me a bitch.”

Ruda grunted as she sat up, seizing gratefully on the change of topic. “Yeah, what’s your deal with that, anyway? I thought you were just making an issue of it to get under Tellwyrn’s skin.”

“I don’t need a reason to antagonize Tellwyrn,” she said wryly. “I just dislike gendered insults.”

“Gendered? So fucking what? Most of the people I’ve called bitches were men. Hell, that makes it sting harder.” She grinned, but the corners of Trissiny’s mouth turned down.

“Exactly, it’s meant to hit harder. Did you ever pause to think about why?”

“Because no man likes to have it pointed out that he’s being a pussy?”

Trissiny drew in a breath slowly through her nose. “So calling a man weak is one thing, but calling him weak and feminine is even worse? Don’t you see the implication? It’s a statement that womanhood is a disadvantage. Call someone an idiot, a jerk, or whatever else, and you’re making a personal statement about them. Call them a bitch, and you make it about all women.”

Ruda frowned, then stood, dusting off her pants. “Well…shit. I was all ready to just blow you off like I usually do, but…fuck me if that doesn’t actually make some sense.”

“I do my best,” Trissiny said dryly, rising also.

“Fuck. I liked calling people ‘bitch.’ Now I’m gonna have this in the back of my head every time.”

“Or,” she suggested, “you could not do it.”

“Don’t rush me, prissy britches. You can belittle my fighting technique, but if you take away my cussing, I’ll turn to dust and blow away. What’s next, cutting off my booze supply?”

“I wouldn’t dare,” she said, deadpan.

“Damn right, you wouldn’t.” Ruda turned around and scowled. “And what the fuck are you two grinning at?”

“I’m not grinning,” Shaeine said mildly. Sitting beside her on the rock, Teal only grinned more broadly.

“Morning, everybody,” Gabriel said, stumbling sleepily down from the rock and plodding toward them. “I’m almost afraid to even ask how the hell you’re all so chipper at this disgusting hour. Hey, Ruda, how’re—”

He broke off as Ruda slapped him hard across the face.

“That’s Ms. Punaji, asshole. I care about that shit now.” She cackled gleefully as she snatched up her sword belt and hat, and swaggered back toward their camp.

Gabriel, suddenly wide awake, stared after her with a hand held to the side of his face. “What the hell?!” he screeched, turning around, then scowled as his gaze fell on Trissiny. “This is your doing!”

“Well,” she said, hiding a smile while she retrieved her sword and shield, “it’s a start.”

“CENTAUR!”

Their heads snapped up in unison at the shout. Juniper was standing on the rim of the crater above, waving to get their attention. Once everyone was looking, she pointed down and to the side, at an area hidden from their view by the rocky slope.

Ruda and Trissiny immediately set off at a run, but they had to navigate around a long arm of the rock formation too steep to climb over with any speed, painfully aware that any four-legged enemy would be long gone by the time they got there. Fortunately, not everyone in the group had the same problem.

Teal erupted upward in a burst of flame, and an instant later Vadrieny was banking over the rocks and diving to the plain beyond, folding her blazing wings around herself as she fell.

Trissiny had longer legs; she pulled ahead despite Ruda taking the inside track around the rocky outcrop. They had to sprint across an open area between that and another long extension of stone; ahead, flashes of orange were just visible over it from Vadrieny’s wings. Juniper bounded down the incline ahead of them, then yelped as she lost her footing and went tumbling the rest of the way. They didn’t slow to help her; she might not be the most agile member of the party, but she was one of the most durable. Behind them, Gabriel and Shaeine (neither of whom were used to running) brought up a distant rear.

Ruda was lagging behind and putting too much breath into running even to curse about it by the time Trissiny rounded the next stone barrier and skidded to a halt, taking stock.

The centaur was exactly as she’d always heard them described: a horse with a man’s torso sprouting from where its neck should be. He had wild, bushy hair and she caught glimpses of a full beard, despite him being faced away from her and trying to escape. Draped over his back was a collection of bags such as a packhorse would carry, with two spears and bristling quivers of arrows visible among his inventory. Geometric designs were tattooed onto his human skin, and appeared to have been branded into his hindquarters.

Vadrieny was blocking his frantic efforts to escape. The demon was far more agile and had the advantage of flight; no matter which way he wheeled, she swiftly placed herself in front of him, snarling and flexing her talons. She didn’t seem to be attacking, for whatever reason, but was effectively holding him in place

It was enough.

Ruda charged past her, and Trissiny burst into motion on her heels; the paladin went right and the pirate left. At their approach, the centaur whirled to face them, throwing all his weight onto his front legs for a moment to lash out with his powerful back hooves at Vadrieny. In one hand, he held the broken half of a bow; those hooves seemed to be his only functional weapons.

The maneuver cost him. Vadrieny hopped nimbly back out of his range, but the rearing kick gave the two humans time to close in. Before he could get his footing firmly back, Trissiny dropped to a crouch mid-run, skidding on the grass, and slashed at one foreleg with her full strength. The crack of breaking bone was clearly audible.

With a cry of agony, the centaur stumbled drunkenly to one side, his left front leg out of commission. He brought up the broken half of his bow to club Trissiny; she raised her shield, but before the blow could fall, Ruda reached him and drove the tip of her rapier into his upraised underarm.

From there, it took only a few more slashes and hits to subdue the centaur; finally, the tip of Ruda’s sword pressed into his throat seemed to convince him to cease struggling. He glared pure hatred at them, chest heaving with exertion, but making no more aggressive moves.

They had matters pretty much under control by the time the others gathered. Fross arrived first, buzzing around the felled centaur in frantic circles. Juniper, Gabe and Shaeine all came staggering up as a group, the former brushing gravel out of her hair and the latter two out of breath. Toby and Professor Rafe were the last to arrive; they had been forced to pick their way down the steeper side of the rock formation to avoid going all the way around.

“What the fuck was that?” Ruda demanded as soon as relative calm had descended, scowling at Vadrieny. “You could’ve finished this fucker off easy.”

“Had we been alone, I would have,” the demon said, meeting her glare. “But as it was, you were on hand to deal with him. Teal does not like it when we hurt people.” Having said her piece, she withdrew, flames fading and claws withdrawing to leave Teal standing in her place, looking pale and shaken.

“This’ll be a scout,” Rafe noted, looking more focused than they’d ever seen him before. “Obviously, we can’t let him take word of us back to his…group.”

“Herd?” Gabriel suggested.

“They’ll be curious if he doesn’t come back at all,” Trissiny warned.

“Yeah,” Rafe said, nodding, “but that buys us some time. And they may not. There’s no shortage of dangerous crap in the Golden Sea; we’ve had a pretty gentle time of it, largely because we haven’t been screwing around with it. You remember what Ansheh said? Centaurs navigate by twisting the Sea to take them where they want to go. It tends to drop the nastiest stuff it has on them in retaliation. I bet they lose scouts all the time.”

“So what do we do with this guy, then?” Juniper asked, stepping up close to the kneeling centaur despite hisses of warning from her classmates. He ran his eyes over her body slowly, then smirked. The dryad didn’t seem to notice this, peering intently at his face. “Should we…I dunno, interrogate him for information?”

“What information?” Gabriel asked. “The Sea shifts around, and we can’t make it take us anyplace useful. Knowing where his herd are doesn’t do us much good when we can’t even know where we are.”

“So he’s not really good for anything, then?” she asked, turning her back to the centaur to face them.

“Gabe’s got the right of it,” said Rafe. “Even if we could make him cooperate… Well, there’s just not much of any use we could learn from him.”

“This is a problem!” Fross cried, buzzing around in a tizzy. “Cos we can’t really take him with us and we can’t afford to leave him here, and Imperial law governing the treatment of prisoners—”

“Meh,” Juniper said dismissively, then turned around and smacked the centaur hard in the face. With a sickening crunch of pulverized vertebrae, his head was wrenched backward to hang over his spine. He spasmed violently, toppling to one side, legs twitching.

“What the fuck?!” Ruda bellowed, barely leaping back out of the way in time. Other voices of shock and protest joined her.

“What?” Juniper looked around at them, apparently baffled. “What’s the problem? What else were we gonna do with him?”

“You don’t just kill a prisoner!” Ruda snarled.

“Why not? He’s only a prisoner if we want to keep him one, right? And we didn’t! He was an enemy combatant.” The dryad shrugged, frowning around at them. “I don’t know what you’re all so upset about.”

“That is what we’re upset about,” Toby said quietly. “It’s important to treat beaten foes with mercy, Juniper. That’s what separates us from the animals.”

“No,” she shot back, scowling, “what separates you from the animals is that you burn up resources you don’t need doing things that don’t contribute to your survival. I’ve gotta say, this sounds like more of that. Mercy, indeed. The poor thing couldn’t even walk anymore.”

“That’s not the point!” Ruda shouted. “Yeah, mercy indeed! If someone weaker than you is under your power, you don’t fucking abuse it!”

“That doesn’t make any sense!” the dryad retorted, growing increasingly irate. “None of you are making any sense! If something wants to kill you, you kill it back, first, otherwise you die! I don’t get why this is so hard for you all to understand! How has your species survived this long if you don’t grasp the most basic—”

“All right, enough,” said Rafe.

“But she—”

“Enough!” They all reared back from the unfamiliar crack of command in his voice. Rafe moderated his tone somewhat, but his expression was still much more resolute than they were used to seeing on him. “Kids…don’t argue moral philosophy with fae. Okay? Juniper simply doesn’t think the same way the rest of us do. You wanna have this talk, that’s great, but do it later, when you have time to go around in circles and everybody’s not riding an adrenaline high. And Juno, hon, I love you, but don’t do shit like that, all right? There are rules we have to respect. If you don’t know them, let the people who do take the lead. Kay?”

“All right,” she said in a small voice.

Gabriel cleared his throat. “Well. I was kinda hoping to have another dip in the springs before we left, since we’ll probably never see this place again, but… I’ve suddenly got a feeling it would be in our best interests to get the hell out of here.”

“No shit,” Ruda grunted, wiping blood from her sword with a handful of tallgrass stalks.

“Right,” said Rafe, rubbing his hands together and looking a bit more like himself. “Time to break up camp, my little cabbages. I’ll get all our crap packed away. Gabe, Ruda, I’m putting you in charge of cleaning up this guy.”

“Fuckin’ ew.”

“Wait! Are we allowed to do that?” Fross asked shrilly. “We don’t know their burial customs! We could be messing up his spirit or something! Isn’t it bad enough we killed him?”

“’Scuze me, but we didn’t kill him,” Ruda said.

“Fross, if he’d been here with more of his group, he would have raped and murdered us and looted our corpses,” Trissiny said firmly. “In fact, his goal was probably to go get more of his friends so they could do just that.”

“But what does that have to do with their funerary rites!?”

“What Trissiny means to say,” Gabriel said, “if she’ll pardon me for presuming, is that we don’t give a fuck about their funerary rites. There are enemies who are treated with respect, and then there’s these guys. Let him rot.” Trissiny nodded grudgingly at him.

“O-okay,” the pixie said uncertainly. By her continued darting back and forth and soft undercurrent of jangling chimes, she wasn’t much reassured.

“Great!” said Rafe cheerfully. “Since we’ve got that cleared up, I’m gonna give you guys some protective gloves and vials of solution to dispose of him.”

“What, some kind of potion that’ll make him invisible or something, so the other centaurs can’t track him?”

“Yes, Gabriel, just so, in the sense that it’s basically a virulent acid which will reduce him to biodegradable goo. Also, don’t get any on your skin. Even with two paladins, a cleric and a dryad on hand, I’m not sure we’re packing enough healing to straighten that out.”

“Have I mentioned yet today how much I hate your class, Professor?”

“That’s the spirit, Punaji! Ten points!”

“Seriously, fuck you.”

“Right, while they’re doing that, I’ve got a subtler solution for the rest of you to apply to the bottoms of your feet. Also, the hems of any robes, skirts, or anything else that’ll be trailing along the ground. It will prevent us from leaving any tracks. I’m not sure it’s possible for us to be tracked in the Golden Sea, but I’m not taking any risks with something like this. Here, Toby, pass these out. Now if I could just get a hand breaking down the tents, I’ll go stuff the rest of our campsite down my pants and we can get movin’. Oh, Fross,” he added more somberly. “I’m afraid I don’t have anything to conceal pixie tracks. For the good of the group, you’ll have to be left behind.”

“What?!” she squealed. “But that—how?! I don’t—it doesn’t—what does that—”

“Don’t make fun of her, you addled degenerate!” Trissiny snapped. “Fross, ignore him. He’s trying, at the most inappropriate possible time, to make a joke. We’re not leaving anybody behind.”

“Okay. Okay. All right.” Muttering softly to herself, the pixie darted over to flutter around behind Trissiny.

As they all split up, heading off to their various tasks, Juniper stayed put for a minute, looking down at the fallen centaur, then back after the departing members of the group. She sighed heavily. “I just don’t understand.”

< Previous Chapter                                                                                                                           Next Chapter >

2 – 6

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“Finally,” Gabriel groaned. “It’s about time the Sea gave us something good for a change.”

“Oh, you are such a whiner,” Ruda said, grinning easily. “This trip has been awesome! So far the Sea has given us free corn and all the beef we can eat.” She laughed at his slightly peaked expression.

Carving up, cleaning, parceling out and preparing the meat from the entire bison had occupied them the rest of the afternoon; Rafe and Juniper had been adamantly against letting anything go to waste, and their thrifty sensibilities had found enough traction among the group that Teal and Gabriel hadn’t gathered much sympathy when they’d suggested stopping once they judged enough meat to have been gathered.

Drying, smoking and curing meat were all very long processes, ordinarily the work of days at least, but Rafe, of course, had alchemical shortcuts a-plenty in his magic belt. Cheerily announcing that this would count toward their grade in his classes, he handed out reagents, walked them once through the processes involved, and then set the students to preparing meat for storage in a variety of ways while he built another alchemical fire, broke out his frying pan and cooked up some fresh bison steaks for their lunch.

By the time they’d taken a break to eat, their collective desire for food was diminished. Only Shaeine appeared completely unbothered by all the blood and effluvia they’d been handling. Juniper had somewhat spoiled her appetite; once she determined that nobody else wanted a share of the bison’s organs, she had been busily snacking while they worked. Watching this had seriously dampened everyone else’s appetite, albeit for different reasons.

Bison-carving kept them occupied till dusk was closer than noon had been. By then, the bison was reduced to bones, scraps of hide and various detritus that nobody wanted to touch no matter how Rafe nattered on about the uses of each bit. Evidently, wasting all that bowstring-worthy sinew offended his elven sensibilities. Juniper had eventually declared, in her cheery way, that nothing left to nature was truly wasted. She’d said this while cradling the animal’s skull, which she intended to keep as a souvenir (after having eating the brain, eyes and tongue), and was all but slathered with liquid bison.

After pausing a bit longer to clean themselves up with the aid of more of Rafe’s alchemy, they had finally continued on their way.

Sunset was far enough in progress that Trissiny, their most experienced trekker, had started making noises about camping for the night when they came across their next, and hopefully final, surprise of the day.

Now, they stood—or in Gabriel’s case, sat in the grass—around a house-sized formation of volcanic rock which put off faintly sulfur-scented steam, watching the two fae return from inspecting it.

“Safe!” the dryad yelled, waving. She had clearly taken the opportunity to scrub some of the bison bits out of her hair that had been missed earlier during Rafe’s alchemical cleaning. In fact, she was drenched from head to toe, her green hair plastered haphazardly in her face. “No elementals of any kind present—uh, that we didn’t bring with us, sorry Fross—and it’s stable, no current volcanic action. There’s a nice little current and it’s old enough the stones inside the pools are nice and rounded. It’s perfect!”

“Also, no curses or undead,” Fross chimed in. “No anything, really, I don’t think anybody’s been here in years. If ever.”

“Animals have,” Juniper said, “which is how you know it’s safe.”

“All right!” Rafe rubbed his hands together gleefully, wearing an even more manic grin than usual. “Hot springs, baby! Kids, you have not lived until you’ve had a soak in natural hot springs!”

“Um, excuse me, but I’m pretty sure I’m alive.”

“It’s a figure of speech, Fross,” Toby explained.

“There’s a nice flat area up on top where silt has settled in a depression and there’s grass growing,” Juniper said brightly. “Not as tall as down here, but it’s softer than the rocks and probably safer than camping on the flat ground where anything might come creeping out of the tallgrass.”

“Campsite ho!” Rafe shouted. “But first: WE BATHE!”


The rock formation looked like a tumbled heap of dark stone when approached, but as they explored it well enough to gain a sense of its proportions, it revealed itself to be rather like the stump of an old tree in shape. The “roots” of stone spread out in multiple directions, dividing up low areas between them and affording some privacy; a lot of these contained pools of water, the three lowest of which were large enough to swim in, though not deep. They were also, fortuitously, sufficiently separated by the mass of the formation that the travelers could segregate themselves by sex and soak in relative privacy. The broad, flat top of the “stump” was probably another such crater, now inactive for whatever reason. Over the eons it had filled with wind-blown dirt, and then a light carpet of soft grasses and moss.

“This is almost suspicious,” Trissiny said, leaning her head back against the rock wall; her utterly relaxed posture clashed with the tone of her observation. “It’s so…perfect. Like a gift from the gods. I almost can’t imagine it not being some kind of trap.”

“Anybody ever tell you you’re a real ray of sunshine?” Ruda asked lazily from the other side of the pool.

“No.”

“Ever wonder why?”

“There’s stuff like this all over the world,” Teal said. “This planet wasn’t shaped by entirely natural forces, you know; lots of things that seem like part of nature are actually designed for the sake of people. And yeah, a lot of them are traps, but there are also quite a few that are gifts. The gods aren’t the only powers up there that like people. Anyhow, Juno and Fross would’ve noticed anything bad lurking around here.”

“Probably,” Jupiner said lightly. While the others were sitting around the edges of the steaming pool, submerged up to the shoulders, she was floating on her back in the middle with no regard for modesty. Teal flushed and averted her eyes whenever she happened to glance at the dryad.

“Paladins can also sense evil, as I understand it,” said Shaeine. “You would likely be the first to know if we were in danger, Trissiny.”

“For a given value of ‘evil,’” she replied. “Demons, undead…a few other, related things. Sometimes people who’ve had a lot of contact with them. Things not directly, specifically opposed to the gods can slip by my senses.”

“What’s that?” Ruda grinned at her. “You mean you’re not perfect? I am stunned.”

“Don’t you ever get tired of that?” Trissiny asked with a sigh.

“Not so far, but I’ll let you know! Sure you don’t wanna come in, Shaeine?”

“I am quite comfortable, thank you,” the drow replied politely. “The steam is invigorating.” She was sitting on a rock formation beside their pool, still in her robes, ostensibly keeping watch over their clothes. The whole time they’d been soaking, she had steadfastly refused even to glance in their direction.

“I just feel kinda bad, you missing out,” said Ruda.

“Not all cultures are okay with communal bathing,” Teal admonished her. “Don’t push. In fact, hell, Imperial culture really isn’t okay with communal bathing. I’m very privileged to be an acknowledged deviant.”

“Now, is it the pacifism that’s considered deviant, or the gay?”

“Take one of each, I’m feeling generous,” Teal said lightly, closing her eyes and shifting down in the water so that only her head was above the surface.

“My culture does, in fact, practice communal bathing,” Shaeine said, still watching the horizon, “but only among family.”

“Guess I can respect that,” the pirate conceded, then playfully sent a wave in Trissiny’s direction. “Gotta say, roomie, I’m surprised you unbent enough to be naked in a big tub with a lesbian. Not afraid you’re gonna catch it?”

“Ruda,” Trissiny said wearily, “would you at least read about my faith enough to mock it intelligently? Avei has always supported the right of women to love whoever and in whatever way they choose. In fact, I was raised in a barracks among other girls, in a culture that idealized romance among women. I was thirteen before anybody thought to reassure me that being attracted to boys didn’t mean I was mentally ill.”

Ruda blinked her eyes. “Well…damn.”

“We have a sort of legend,” the paladin went on, relaxing into the water, “about one of the early Hands of Avei and her traveling companion. She was a warrior from the Eastern mountains, who left home as a girl because the Shaathists there didn’t allow women to fight. Even after joining and training with the Sisters, she was a little rough around the edges… Till she fell in with a serving girl from some noble’s house who was practicing to be a bard. They traveled together, gradually growing closer over many adventures, becoming friends and eventually more… It’s sort of an ideal, I guess.” She sighed somewhat dreamily, gazing into the distance.

“Uh, Triss?” Juniper righted herself, landing on her knees on the pool’s bottom. She was in the deepest part; only her chin stayed above the water, surrounded by a green nimbus of floating hair. “I try not to tell people their own business, but… You’re, like, the straightest girl I’ve ever met.”

“I know,” Trissiny said glumly.

“This isn’t dangerous to you, is it, Fross?” Teal asked, looking up at the pixie, who’d been drifting slowly around above them, riding the updrafts of steam.

“What? Don’t be silly, I’m not made of ice. I actually kind like the heat. The contrast is soothing. Sort of almost painful, but in a good way, y’know? Like a really intense thing that kind straddles the line between good and bad. But no, it’s not dangerous.”

“Wanna try swimming, then?” Teal suggested. “Or are your wings not built for that?”

“Pshaw, my wings are built for everything! I’ll try anything twice. You know, cos nobody ever does something right the first time. Dive bomb!” With an uncharacteristic battlecry, she buzzed down, plopping into the surface of the water near Juniper.

Strangely, the intense glow that surrounded her seemed to wink out while she was viewed through water. For the first time, the girls were treated to a view of the tiny humanoid figure of Fross, white as fresh snow, as she plunged to the bottom of the pool, then fluttered back upward.

Unfortunately, ice had begun forming around her before she got there. Fross broke the surface, lifted off a few inches and fell back, encumbered by the clump of ice in which the lower half of her body was stuck. It expanded rapidly, and soon she was drifting in the hot springs, trapped in a thick, dinner plate-sized ice floe that steamed constantly as its edges melted and re-formed. Her wings buzzed impotently, lifting it no more than an inch out of the water.

“Um,” she said sheepishly, “help?”


“Gotta hand it to you, Professor,” said Gabriel, relaxing in the steam, “sometimes you do come up with a pretty damn good idea.”

“Hah! All my ideas are damn good, sonny Jim. You just lack the wit to appreciate my genius. I look forward to the day when you are educated enough to understand the sheer brilliance of everything I’ve tried to teach you.” Rafe paused, then amended, “Well, the day when most people would be educated enough to appreciate it. You… We’ll have to see.”

“Oh, up yours,” he said, but without rancor. “Let me just enjoy the steam, and the knowledge that there’s a half-dozen naked girls a mere few yards from here.”

“You do realize Shaeine can probably hear you,” Toby noted, fighting a smile.

“And Shaeine knows I’m not gonna go peek. Trissiny barely needs an excuse to stab me in the guts as it is.”

“Yeah, how’s that coming along?” Rafe asked cheerily, pushing his rubber duck around the surface of the water. The boys had steadfastly refused to comment on it. “Aren’t you two supposed to be all chummy by now?”

“Ugh.” Gabriel grimaced. “I’m trying. She’s completely immune to my charms.”

“Have you tried a love potion?”

“That’s right, Professor. I, a half-demon, will slip an illegal mind-altering potion to the Hand of Avei. Just as soon as I want the entire fucking Sisterhood to mount a crusade for my head.”

“You have got to learn to take a joke, kid.”

“I’d be careful with that kind of joke, Professor,” Toby warned. “Sisters of Avei consider the use of love potions a form of rape. So does Imperial law, for that matter, but Imperial law doesn’t get quite as…worked up on the subject as they do. I doubt Trissiny would find this conversation funny at all.”

“Bah! I will not be censored!” Rafe brandished his ducky, grinning wildly.

“I think I blew it with Triss pretty hard,” Gabe said more soberly. “It’s been weeks of dishwashing and… Well, she tolerates me. Exactly as much as she did on the first night. It’s like… She’s decided the status quo is perfectly fine and is done with the whole thing. And I wouldn’t mind that so much, she’s not exactly the most delightful company… But Tellwyrn’s got a bug up her butt about this. I dunno how long this can go on before she actually does chain us together.”

“She hasn’t done that in years, and it was a much more extreme case,” Rafe said airily. “You’re probably safe.”

Gabriel straightened up. “Wait, she’s actually done that?”

“Twice, that I know of.”

He slumped back down into the water. “Well, fuck. How do you get a grumpy paladin to give you a second chance?”

“Well, there’s the usual,” Rafe suggested. “Flowers, chocolates, poetry… Of course, she’s an Avenist, so maybe the still-beating heart of an enemy…”

“I’m not trying to court her, you lunatic. I just want to get things…civil. But I can’t have a civil relationship alone. If she doesn’t cooperate…”

“Aside from self-interest with regard to Tellwyrn,” said Toby, “and by the way, Trissiny doesn’t have a lot of self-interest… Why does she need to give you a second chance?  Or you her, for that matter. That’s what I don’t get, man. Are you sure nothing else happened that night? When we talked about it you emphasized pretty hard that it was all your fault.”

“Come on, why would I lie about that?” Gabriel muttered, looking out toward the horizon.

Rafe lowered himself into the water so that it covered him up to his nose, eyes darting back and forth between the two boys.

“It’s just…” Toby frowned, obviously choosing his words with care. “When I talked to Teal and Shaeine, they both said you asked them not to discuss it with anyone else. Taking all the blame for some mutual fight doesn’t sound like you, but neither does going that hard at the Hand of Avei in the first place. Either way, I don’t get it.  What was that, Gabe? You’ve never done anything remotely like that before. It was like…the kind of thing the Church was always claiming you were going to do, and I could just never picture it. I still can’t.”

“Oh, it’s not so complicated,” Rafe said breezily. “A man can endure all manner of slings and arrows from the world at large, but when they come from a pretty girl he knows he can never, ever have? That shit’s personal.”

“Oh, ew,” Gabriel spat. “Don’t even joke, man. I’d sooner stick it in a termite nest.”

“You stuck it in a dryad, which is considerably more risky.”

“Quite aside from Trissiny’s personality, what there is of it, she’s a twig! I like curvy girls.”

“Again, let’s remember that Shaeine can probably hear us and dial this back a bit,” Toby said. “And my question stands. I’m not trying to give you a hard time, Gabe. I’m…worried.”

Gabriel lowered his eyes from his friend’s concerned face and sighed. Long seconds passed before he spoke.

“I just…had it all worked out in my head. It was going to be different here. Better, y’know? It was the University, run by Arachne Tellwyrn, famous anti-hero or anti-villain, depending on which stories you listen to. No more black and white, gods-vs-Gabriel bullshit. I was gonna meet people, maybe some like me, but at least people who wouldn’t treat me like a freak. People who understood the world was complex. And then…there she was.”

“Trissiny never treated you like a freak,” Toby said gently. “She was startled, once, when she found out you’re a demonblood. Honestly, I think half of that was her being upset because she’d accidentally hurt you.”

“I know!” Gabriel thew up his hands, splashing them both. “And this is why I’ve avoided talking about it, because there’s no way not to be reminded what an utter dumbshit I’ve been about the whole thing. She just… She gave me that look, and all I could see was every other fucking person in Tiraas who’d looked at me that way. Except it was at the University, my second chance where I thought things would be better… And it was a freaking paladin of Avei. Probably exactly the person they’d send to put me down if they found an excuse to. I overreacted.” He slumped down in the water, so low that he made ripples when he spoke. “Holy fuck, did I overreact.”

“Have you said any of this to her?” Toby asked.

Gabe snorted, causing a minor splash. “I’m terrified to even bring up the topic. I’m just trying to be nice to her, for all the good that’s doing me.  I just want…peace, with her. No more drama. It’s easier if she’s not getting riled up with more recrimination, y’know? I was the angry dumbass, so I’ll be conciliatory and eventually it’ll all go away.”

“Half of diplomacy is understanding the other person’s perspective. Avenists don’t generally care much about nice, Gabe. But they’re reasonable. You basically have her as a captive audience when you’re doing those dishes, right? Just…try opening up like you did just now. Let her see you have reasons, even if they aren’t good ones. Right now, I bet all she sees in you is a berserk demonblood who thinks he’s funny.”

“Excuse me, I’m fucking hilarious,” Gabriel said with deep dignity.

“Yup!” Rafe grinned. “Now if you could just pull it off when you’re trying to, you might get laid by something that has a pulse.”

“Go fuck your—wait a second. Juniper doesn’t have a pulse?”

“Boy,” the professor said, shaking his head, “you have the observational skills of a deaf cave bat.”

“Oh, give me a break, I was distracted by the… Well, you’ve seen them.”

“Indeed, I may have to give you that one.”


“Really, it’s no trouble,” Fross said nervously. “I don’t mind at all.”

“And I appreciate that, Fross,” Trissiny replied patiently. “Regardless, we should set a watch. It’s an important habit to be in, when camping out in potentially hostile territory.”

“Oh, come on,” Ruda groaned. “Why the hell are you so allergic to anything being easy?”

“Because life is not easy,” the paladin said sharply. “This is a training exercise—its purpose is to prepare us to deal with the real world. How often do you expect to have a party member who doesn’t need sleep along on a mission?”

“Trissiny is correct,” Shaeine said smoothly as Ruda opened her mouth to object again. “Posting watch is an important habit to acquire. And we are on training maneuvers, for all intents and purposes.”

Ruda thew up her hands. “Fine, what-the-fuck-ever. Wake me when it’s my turn, I guess.” She turned and stomped over to one of the tents, leaving the rest of the freshman class behind. Rafe was already in the boys’ tent, snoring a touch too loudly to be believable.

Everyone was much refreshed after a long soak in the hot springs, but most were still tired from the day’s hiking—and butchering. Glancing around at her classmates, who were mostly standing near their three tents clustered around a campfire in the upper crater of the volcanic formation, Trissiny could plainly see the weariness in many of them. Shaeine as usual was all but unreadable and Toby had divine strength to draw on, but the others were visibly drooping—even Juniper. She, of course, was hardly even tired.

“I’ll take first watch, then,” she said, giving the rest of them a smile. “Sleep well, but…if you can, not too deeply. The Golden Sea’s odd geography may protect us, but in normal territory a campfire on top of a hill like this will be visible for miles in every direction. It isn’t improbable that we’ll have visitors of some kind before dawn.”

“And on that cheery note,” Gabriel muttered, turning and dragging himself toward the tent from which the snores were emanating. “Good news: looks like we’ll have that ‘don’t sleep deeply’ thing down. Without even trying.” Toby laughed, following him in.

The crater itself was uneven, the rim of stone surrounding it even more so. On the side opposite from their approach—the uphill side, closer to the center of the Sea—it rose to a rather steep lip that almost qualified as an outcropping. Trissiny, no longer in armor but carrying sword and shield, climbed this, taking up her perch as her classmates retreated into their tents. She noticed with some gratitude that Teal and Shaeine had joined Ruda, leaving the other tent for her and Juniper. And Fross, of course, should she want to take advantage.

That seemed unlikely; the pixie was more interested in keeping company with the only other member of the party who was staying awake.

“Fross,” she said some minutes later, which she spent slowly scanning the horizons for signs of movement and her companion spent buzzing about with no apparent aim, “I don’t mean to be rude…”

The pixie came to an instant halt, hovering right in front of her. “Are you mad at me?”

“What?” Trissiny blinked her eyes, taken aback. “No. Why would I be?”

“Oh. It’s just that… Well, I’ve kinda noticed a pattern when somebody says ‘I don’t mean to be rude’ or ‘not to be rude’ or ‘sorry if this is rude’ or anything along those lines, that whatever comes next is usually pretty rude. So, uh, I’m still having kind of a hard time untangling the colloquialisms around here, but I figure if you’re about to say something rude I’ve done something to make you mad.”

Trissiny stayed silent for a moment, digesting that, then had to smile. “That is actually pretty perceptive. It…probably doesn’t mean they’re mad, per se. People can be hostile for a lot of different reasons. Most are fairly silly, and it’s honestly best to brush them off unless they’re actually threatening you.”

“I don’t…man, that makes no sense. Social interactions aren’t a zero-sum game. I mean, that’s just not how it works.”

“That’s people for you,” Trissiny said wryly.

“So, uh…why were you wanting to be hostile?”

“Oh!” She clapped a hand to her forehead. “I’m sorry, Fross, I didn’t mean to give you the wrong impression…I’m not hostile. I actually just wanted to ask you something and didn’t want to hurt your feelings because I’m not sure if it would or not.”

“Oh!” The pixie buzzed around in a rapid circle. “Oh, that’s okay then, that’s not actually rude at all! Go ahead, you can ask me whatever and if I don’t like it I can tell you so we don’t have to have the awkwardness again, ‘kay?”

“Deal,” Trissiny said with a smile. “That being established…is it possible for you to turn down your glow a little? You’re sort of wrecking my night vision.”

The pixie vibrated in midair for a moment. “…aw, man, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think about…I mean, I’d read about how human eyes work, I did all my research before coming here… Gosh, that’s embarrassing. Um, yeah, I can repress a bit, but…”

“But?” Trissiny prompted after a silent moment.

“Well… I don’t want to be rude.”

She laughed. “I will try not to take offense.”

“Is it, uh, okay if I sit on your shoulder? See, it’s kinda hard to stay aloft with my magic dimmed, and I try not to be on the ground as a matter of policy. That is a recipe for getting stepped on. Also, there’s snakes and rats and stuff in the grass, and getting eaten is really annoying.”

“I don’t mind that at all,” Trissiny assured her, still grinning.

“Great!”

She zipped over to alight on Trissiny’s shoulder, momentarily making the problem of night vision even worse. Almost immediately, however, her white glow dimmed, then vanished entirely, leaving Trissiny able to study her classmate up close for the first time.

Fross was about three inches tall, and…fuzzy. She looked something like an anthropomorphic white moth, her humanoid figure coated in white down that glittered like snow in the starlight, with reddish highlights where it caught even the glow of the distant campfire. Her eyes were enormous (proportionately) black jewels that dominated her head, leaving no room for anything else on her face but a thin little mouth and two arched, fuzzy moth antennae. From her back sprang four wings, long and narrow like a dragonfly’s, but without the network of veins. In fact, they were all but invisible except for their frosted edges. They buzzed in short bursts, apparently unwilling to be still even when Fross wasn’t flying.

She was also very cold. Trissiny quickly began to develop a numb spot on her shoulder. Despite thinking fondly of her metal pauldrons, she found herself reluctant to dislodge the fairy. A paladin’s life was sacrifice, after all.

“While we’re sharing stuff, I have a question,” the pixie said, sitting down and folding her arms around her knees.

“Go ahead,” Trissiny replied, slowly turning to scan the empty horizon.

“Why don’t you like Gabriel?”

She was silent for a moment. “Everybody doesn’t have to get along,” she said finally. “I don’t want conflict with Gabriel. I don’t really want to interact with him at all.”

“Yeah, I kinda got that, I’m just confused about why. I mean, he tries so hard to be nice to you. I don’t understand what’s going on with you two. I guess it’s not really my business, you don’t have to explain. I’m just trying… I mean, there’s so much about human relationships I don’t get. I want to understand as much as possible, that’s all.”

“Gabriel…is annoying. And he’s a fool.”

“Well, yes. He’s a lot like Ruda, which is an opposite thing. You keep trying to give her a chance and she keeps being mean. I don’t understand what the difference is.”

Trissiny stared hard at a fixed point in the distance, forgetting for the moment to turn her head and scan. “The difference is that Ruda, at the end of the day, is only human. Whatever her bloodline or responsibilities, she’s one woman and there’s a stark limit to the amount of damage she can cause. Gabriel is part demon. If he can’t control himself, the harm he could potentially do is…staggering.”

“Yes, well, I mean, sure, but…that’s a lot of us, right? You and Toby are both pretty powerful. Shaeine the same way, you’re all connected to gods. Don’t even get me started on the mess Teal could make with that demon she’s got, and Juniper… Well, Juniper’s pretty much a force of nature. I read up on hethelax demons, and… I don’t see why Gabe’s so dangerous, really. He’s only a halfblood, and even full hethelaxi aren’t any stronger than a human, and they don’t have any magic. They’re just really, really hard to stop or kill, so of course it’s really hard to contain them if they get into a berserk mode.”

“That’s just it: they’re berserker demons. The others…and myself…have basically understandable motivations. Without incredible self-control, Gabriel can be set off and cause untold havoc.”

“So…doesn’t it make more sense to encourage him when he’s obviously trying so hard?”

Trissiny glared at the horizon, refusing to look at the pixie. “It’s not that simple, Fross.”

“Why?”

“Because…some things are just not as simple as it seems like they should be.”

“Yeah, well, okay, but… Why?”

The paladin sighed slowly. “Because the world…is imperfect.”

Fross buzzed her wings once before speaking softly. “No, it’s not.”

“Pardon?”

“The world is perfect. It’s exactly what it was meant to be, whatever that is. If it seems wrong…maybe you’re expecting something from it that it was never designed to give.”

Trissiny found herself nodding. “Maybe I am, at that.”

They lapsed into silence for a moment before Fross spoke again.

“Also, I really don’t think you understand Juniper’s motivations. I know I pretty much don’t, but… She looks pretty human, yeah, but she doesn’t think like one. At all.”

“I’ve been getting that impression more and more.”


Teal relieved her without having to be awakened. Trissiny was initially unsure about leaving Teal on watch—the bard was likeable and making progress in their sparring sessions, but she’d grown up in the very lap of luxury, never having to work or struggle for anything. However, as Trissiny headed toward her tent, the blossoming of flames behind her meant that Teal’s other half was taking over. Trissiny lengthened her step. She really did not want to have a conversation with Vadrieny… But at least the demon could be trusted not to nod off.

In her bedroll, she stared at the ceiling of the tent for a long time.

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2 – 3

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Trissiny and Ruda both reached for their swords, but before either had a chance to draw, Toby stepped forward, his hands raised peaceably.

“Good morning,” he said politely. “Despite what Professor Rafe was suggesting, we have no intention of disturbing your corn. We don’t listen to him as a rule. Would you mind removing the wand from my friend, please?”

“Actually, go ahead and blast him,” Rafe said cheerily. “Boy’s half hethelax, I doubt he’ll even get a sunburn.”

“Professor,” said Gabriel tersely, trying to watch the elf out of the corner of his eye without moving, “please go fuck yourself.”

“Hah! Sass and sauciness in the face of imminent zappage! Ten points, Arquin!”

“Sideways,” Gabe clarified, “with a hatchet.”

“Enough banter,” Trissiny exclaimed. “Put down the wand, please. Nobody here wants a fight, but if it comes to one you’re not going to win.”

“Whoah, whoah, everybody just calm down,” Rafe said soothingly. “She’s not gonna shoot him, she knows Tellwyrn’s hunted people down over longer distances for less reason. Also, Triss, when you’re scrapping with elves, don’t worry about the one you see; worry about the three you don’t. Guys, this is my old buddy Ansheh. Annie, dollbaby,” he went on, turning to face the elf directly and holding out his arms for a hug. “You never come visit anymore! I was starting to worry you’d been eaten by a swallowgator or disemboweled by a jackalope.”

For a tense moment, she stared at Rafe, eyes narrowed but her expression unreadable. Then, her lips curled up in a sneer and she spoke one syllable.

“Ugh.”

She did, however, remove the wand from Gabriel’s neck, immediately stepping back out of arm’s reach. The wand stayed pointed at the ground—not overtly hostile, but ready to be brought up in an instant.

“Well,” Gabe said, rubbing his throat, “I guess that’s a sign she really does know him.”

Professor Rafe said something rapidly to the woman—Ansheh, apparently—in elvish. She replied in the same language, her posture still wary and expression faintly disdainful. The students glanced about at each other as this exchange drew longer.

“Is anybody gonna let us in on the joke?” Ruda asked finally. Rafe and the elf ignored her, but Teal spoke up in a low voice.

“He’s getting the news on the region. Apparently her tribe live around here, usually… Oh, wait, no, they travel through this area a lot. They’re nomadic. They’re not here now, though, she’s scouting the region to check up on patches of crops like this one and to see if…” Her voice trailed off and she grew a shade paler. “Centaurs.”

“To see if centaurs?” Ruda snorted. “Well, that’s good to know. Personally, I hate it when centaurs.”

“Don’t joke,” Trissiny said tersely.

“Listen, shiny boots, the day I stop joking because you told me—”

“Ruda,” Teal said more urgently. “She’s right. Centaurs are not a joking matter.”

“They are not,” agreed Ansheh flatly. The two of them had ceased talking as Ruda grew louder, and now she switched to Tanglish and addressed herself directly to the students. “The presence of a full horde in the region is the reason my tribe have moved on.” Rafe started to say something again in elvish, but she cut him off with a slashing gesture. “Are you not some manner of teacher, Admestus? Then do not presume to ‘protect’ your students from truth. I will warn you, and them, of a danger in the region as I would any traveler in good faith.”

“Are they still nearby?” Trissiny asked, tense.

Ansheh shook her head. “The main horde has moved on, and the Sea has shifted. They are nowhere near. However, there are fresher tracks of a smaller band that may have split off from them, within miles of here. Forty to sixty, maybe. I have three times seen tracks of individuals, doubtless sent out to scout.”

“Time? Location? Direction, even?”

“You’re new to the Golden Sea, little warrior,” the elf replied, her face softening into the merest hint of a smile with more than a hint of condescension. “These things cannot be planned for, here.”

“Then how do you maneuver, or manage not to get lost from your tribe?”

“There are ways.” Finally, she holstered the wand, then reached behind herself into the tallgrass and plucked two long stalks, one with each hand. The left she held up before them, perpendicular to the ground. “The center of the Golden Sea can never be reached, but one can travel toward or away from it; one can go deeper in, or seek to escape, and the Sea will allow this.” As she spoke, she manipulated the other stalk with the fingers of her right hand with amazing deftness, twisting it into a figure eight. “To travel around, though, is to travel at the Sea’s whim. One place may be next to another place one moment, on the opposite rim the next. A person may never see it shifting, but in the instant you close your eyes, the world realigns around you.”

“We know this, thanks,” Gabriel said, reaching up to rub his throat again. His expression was just barely on the right side of a glare.

“It is in traveling around that one must make accommodations with the Sea itself,” Ansheh continued, ignoring him. “You initiates of the tauhanwe University tie a rope to yourselves that leads you back home. The Sea allows this because it does not affect the Sea itself, but only how you pass through it. My people align ourselves with the will and the way of the Sea. It is kind to us because we are kind to it, because we are of it. We trust in it to lead us where we should go.”

“The fuck does that even mean?” Ruda demanded.

“It is a thing that is done,” said Ansheh, gazing inscrutably at her, “not a thing that is said.”

“…the fuck does that mean?”

“The centaurs,” the elf continued in the same even tone, “are practitioners of dark magic. They twist the Sea to carry them where they wish to go. It works, until it does not. That is why we are always alarmed to find centaurs where they are rarely seen. Right after the Golden Sea has struck back against their manipulation and thrown them off…that is when they are most angry.”

Trissiny blinked her eyes twice, then shook her head. The elf’s roundabout explanation—or what was apparently meant to be an explanation—made her brain feel the way her stomach did when she tried to digest richer food than she was used to eating. “All right, well… Can you tell us anything about how close the centaurs are? Any suggestions how we avoid them?”

“They are few, and they are not here,” Ansheh said infuriatingly. “’Close’ means nothing here. You will probably not find them unless you wish to, or they wish to find you. The Sea does not reward their sorcery.”

“…okay then. Thank you.”

Ansheh nodded gravely to her.

“Right then!” For a few moments while he and Ansheh had been speaking, Rafe had seemed almost concerned. His irrepressible cheeriness was back now, in such force that it made his momentary lapse seem like a trick of the light. “Nothing for it but to press on! We’ll either meet centaurs or we won’t, and probably not more than sixty.”

“Not more than sixty?!” Ruda planted her fists on her hips, glaring at him. “I don’t even know what the deal is with these centaurs, but if they’re hostile, sixty is a pretty big fucking deal!”

“Nonsense!” he bellowed. “Bring them on in their hundreds, in their hordes! We shall show them what it means to be, uh…paladins, pirates, priests and whatever-all else! The bards will sing of our triumph for ages to come!”

Ansheh gave him a flat look and said softly, “Tifau.” It was one of those words that didn’t need a translation to communicate quite plainly. She made three soft clicks with her tongue in a syncopated rhythm, and a shape rose out of the tallgrass behind her.

It was horse-sized, but built more like a deer, with delicate legs and cloven hooves, and a long tail ending in a graceful tuft of fur. A single, spiraling horn rose from above its eyes. The unicorn’s coat was silvery white, but had been painted with vertical streaks in shades of brown and gold; hiding motionless in the tallgrass, it was as invisible as the elf had been.

Fross gasped audibly. “Pretty.”

She placed one hand against the unicorn’s neck and then leaped onto its unsaddled back, in a smooth motion that resembled water flowing uphill. Ansheh clicked her tongue once more and her mount turned to face the endless sea of tallgrass; she looked over her shoulder at them and nodded once, curtly. “We will not be back here in time to harvest. Take as much corn as you need; the rest will go to the crows as the wards fade.” Then the unicorn bounded away, making only the most impossibly soft noise as it disturbed the grass in passing. In seconds they were lost to sight.

“Huh,” said Gabriel. “After Tellwyrn and Sunrunner, I figured the old stereotype about elven mysticism was bunk. Maybe it’s just the wild ones.”

“Yeah, no, the stereotype is bull,” Rafe replied, grinning. “Don’t go expecting any elves you meet to act like that; they’ll either laugh at you or shoot you. Ansheh’s the biggest drama ham I ever met. You give her attention, she’ll give you a show.”

“Also, it may be a bad idea to judge anyone by Tellwyrn’s example,” Toby noted.

“That, too,” Rafe agreed. “Welp! You heard the nice lady with the ears, kids. Since I was just talking about finding food a few minutes ago, let’s CORN IT UP!”


“So what’s the big issue with centaurs?” Ruda asked after they had resumed their trek. Rafe was again in the lead, and again singing to himself in elvish. Ruda had produced a bottle of bourbon from within her coat and was working at it. Apparently, their professor had similar bag-of-holding enchantments on the pouches at his belt; that, anyway, seemed to be where he was keeping all their supplies, including the corn they’d just picked. “The way you guys reacted I’d have thought you were talking about Elilial’s own brood.”

“They might as well be,” Trissiny said darkly. “Centaurs are diabolists. That magic the elf was talking about that they use, it’s pure evil.”

“Oh, everything’s evil with you,” Ruda said dismissively.

Trissiny drew in a breath and let it out slowly. “How many things have you actually heard me describe as evil? Name two.”

“Centaurs and Teal.” The pirate grinned at her and had a long pull of bourbon.

“Honesty, I thought centaurs were a myth,” Gabriel said.

“History,” said Teal, “not myth. They only still live in the Golden Sea, because the shifting geography makes it pretty much impossible to go in and hunt them down. The Sisters of Avei have wiped them out everywhere else.”

“Big fuckin’ surprise, there!”

“Ruda,” Teal said sharply, “the fact that you can’t get along with your roommate doesn’t mean you get to call all Avenists genocidal maniacs. They’re anything but. The Sisters gave up trying to deal with centaurs diplomatically and simply killed them en masse, and nobody, not even the Omnists or Izarites, argued with them about it. That should tell you everything you need to know about centaurs. The demon magic isn’t the worst part, though.”

“We don’t need to hear about it,” Trissiny said, her face hardening.

“Triss, I’m gonna have to argue with that,” Teal replied. “This group is three-fourths women. If we even might meet centaurs…everybody deserves to know what to expect.” She turned her head to face Ruda again as they walked. Rather than going single file as before, the students had drawn together in a clump with Fross darting overhead and the boys bringing up the rear. “Centaurs don’t have a word for ‘rape’ in their language. Or maybe it’d be better to say they have only words for that, and none for love.”

There was a brief period of relative quiet while Ruda scowled, the bottle in her hand momentarily forgotten. The swish of grass, the buzz of Fross’s wings and Rafe’s less-than-tuneful singing were the only sounds.

“Wait, you mean they…” Ruda shook her head. “These are the things that are horses on the bottom half, right? How does that even work?”

“It does not work,” Teal said grimly. “That’s not how I would prefer to die, thank you.”

Another brief silence fell, which again, Ruda broke. “Well…shit. Good on the Sisters, then. Hell, I kinda hope we meet some, now. Wouldn’t mind killing a few of those myself.”

“You really don’t possess a shred of common sense, do you?” Trissiny asked.

“Really, blondie?” Ruda tilted her head back to give her a long look from under the wide brim of her hat. “You wanna start this up?”

“Let us not start anything up, please,” Shaeine said quietly. “In fact, unless there is something further we urgently need to know about centaurs, I suggest a change of topic. This one is likely to inflame tempers.”

Ruda grunted and tilted her head back, drinking. They all watched the level of bourbon in the bottle go down.

“Ruda,” Toby said from behind them, “it occurs to me that I always seem to see you drinking something, but I’ve never actually seen you drunk.”

“Yeah?” She grinned at him over her shoulder. “Or maybe you’ve never seen me sober.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask about this, too,” Gabriel added. “It’s supposed to be a dry University, but I’ve seen you hitting the bottle right in front of Tellwyrn. How come the rules don’t seem to apply to you?”

“Diplomatic immunity,” she said cheerfully. “It’s good to be a pirate, boys. Incidentally, anybody have any clue just where the fuck this guy is taking us?”

Rafe paused in his current song to shout “TO GLORY!” without turning around.

“Wow,” Ruda muttered, “I walked right the fuck into that, didn’t I. Well, I hope glory’s got a roof. We’re gonna get rain here in a day or two.”

“Wait, what?” Gabriel peered around at the sky, which was deep blue and cloudless. “Maybe you are drunk, after all.”

“Up yours, hell’s bells. That’s your new nickname, by the way. I grew up on ships; don’t fucking talk to me about weather.” She twisted her mouth in a grimace, then took another drink. The bottle was getting close to empty. “I could tell you more exactly than that, but…I dunno how much this place is fucking with my weather sense. There’s no decent-sized bodies of water anywhere around, and who the hell knows how it all works when the ground isn’t even lashed down properly. Rain’s coming, though. Bank on it.”

Before anyone could reply, the ground began to rumble.

“What the—earthquake!” Gabriel cried, reflexively ducking down.

“Shh!” Up ahead, Rafe turned and waved his arms frantically, shushing them as if he hadn’t been singing at the top of his lungs moments ago. “SHHHHH!”

Juniper’s gasp of obvious delight only added to the confusion, at least until she pointed off to their right. “Look! Look! Bison!”

Carefully, the eight of them crouched low enough to almost hide themselves, peering through the upper fronds of the tallgrass. Fross belatedly fluttered down to join them after being hissed at and urgently beckoned by Ruda.

It was an awe-inspiring sight. The herd stretched nearly to the horizon beyond, but they were passing close enough that those nearest the students were clearly visible, their numbers fading into a deep brown expanse that moved as if with one mind. The bison were running parallel to them, beginning to curve away, but as the freshmen watched, they gradually slowed, coming to a halt and beginning to graze. No longer running, they could be examined individually. Massive, shaggy beasts with huge hammerlike heads surmounted by black horns, each bison was an impressive spectacle. Together in their sheer numbers, they were breathtaking.

“Wow,” Gabriel whispered.

“Um,” said Ruda softly, “what happens if they all charge this way?”

“Well, then we get trampled,” Rafe said cheerfully. “That’s not likely, though. So, who wants to go bag one?”

“Every time I think you’ve said the stupidest fucking thing you can possibly say, you open your mouth again,” said Ruda.

“Oh, don’t be such a sourpuss, Punaji. Elves hunt these.”

“They hunt them with staves, spears and arrows, while riding unicorns,” Teal hissed. “Let’s not provoke the herd, please.”

“Oh, but you were saying we need meat, right?” said Juniper. “One of those would keep us supplied for…well, probably the whole trip, assuming we’re not planning to be out here more than a week or so. That’s about what Tellwyrn said, right?”

“Yeah, well, the fact remains, those are bison, there are thousands of them, and we are really not equipped or prepared to do any hunting,” said Gabriel.

“Lemme see what I can do,” she replied, and stood upright, disregarding the hisses of her classmates. The dryad strode forward through the grass directly toward the herd.

“The thing that bothers me most is how we didn’t hear them before they were this close,” Teal muttered. “If the Sea can drop thousands of bison right on top of us…”

She didn’t bother to finish. Everyone knew where that thought was going: why not centaurs?

They all reflexively ducked even lower when the herd spotted Juniper and shied away. Those nearest the dryad seemed to move as one organism, the effects of their alarm rippling backward. She kept approaching slowly, though, making a beeline for one specimen standing relatively near. The general consensus of the herd seemed to be that she wasn’t a threat worth running from, but they weren’t interested in being approached; they began to resume their course at a brisk walk.

All except for the single animal Juniper was approaching. It moved to face her directly, tail swishing behind as it studied her. There was something almost poetic about the way it broke from the herd to acknowledge the dryad’s approach; suddenly it wasn’t facing the same direction as the others, nor moving along with them. From part of a unit, it transitioned to an individual, shifting its allegiance to the dryad. It did shy backward a few steps as she drew closer, hands upraised, but eventually allowed her to stroke its face.

“Quick bit of trivia,” said Rafe, “dryads have an innate and powerful connection with nature. The rest of you, do not try to pet wild animals. Especially not ginormous ones with big-ass horns.”

“Got it, thanks,” said Gabriel. Nobody else commented; nobody tore their eyes from the spectacle before them.

It was a spectacle worth seeing.

The woman stood before the mighty beast, her green hair and golden skin framed by its dark, shaggy bulk, running her hands over its face, scratching in its bushy mane, stroking along its giant horns. All the while, behind them, the herd was picking up speed, heading away and leaving one of its members to the dryad’s attentions. Juniper had crossed her arms, now, for some reason, each hand taking hold of the horn on the opposite side of the bison’s head.

When it happened, it was almost too fast to watch.

She quite suddenly un-twisted her arms, throwing her weight to one side. The audible crack of the bison’s massive neck breaking was immediately lost in the thud of its huge weight slamming to the ground on its side. It landed, head twisted at a horrible angle; its legs kicked feebly a couple of times, then with startling suddenness, the creature stilled.

The herd took this as the signal to leave. In the next moments, nothing was audible but the constant thunder of their stampede. Blessedly, they held to their previous course and did not turn toward those watching, but some of the students had difficulty balancing due to the shaking of the ground. Despite their speed, the incredible numbers of the bison meant it went on for some minutes.

Eventually, though, the ragged rear edge of the herd passed, and then they were retreating toward the horizon. As soon as the noise lessened enough that she could be heard, Juniper waved cheerily back at the others, shouting, “I got lunch!”

Ruda summed up what they were all thinking.

“Holy shit.”

They approached slowly, warily. Juniper seemed as cheerful as usual, and rather pleased with herself. “It’s a lot of meat,” she said proudly. “Like I said, this should keep us set for the rest of the trip. How much storage space have you got in that belt, Professor? Oh, well, Ruda and Gabe have the same kind of enchantments on their coats, we’ll manage. You don’t mind helping carry, right, guys?”

“Um. No?” Gabriel offered hesitantly.

“Great! Let’s just get this started, then.” Stepping around to the side of the felled bison, she pulled back her arm and drove a hand directly into its shoulder, sinking up to the wrist in flesh. Gabe clapped a hand over his mouth and turned away. “Oh…oops, I’m sorry I should’ve thought, first… Did anybody want its hide? Cos, y’know, it’s pretty big so I guess it doesn’t matter where we tear it. I’ve heard people trade the hides for good money, though.”

“I don’t think that’s important right now,” Trissiny said carefully. “We’re survivalists, for the moment, not fur traders.”

“Great!” the dryad said, beaming. “We can still make use of the skin, I’m sure, but I guess it doesn’t matter how many pieces it’s in.” She grasped the torn edges of the bison’s thick hide with both hands and pulled, ripping a long seam open across its side, baring steaming muscle. Gabriel retched and doubled over; fortunately Juniper didn’t seem to be paying him any attention. She sank the fingers of one bloody hand into the muscle and pulled, dragging out a large chunk. Strings of tissue snapped, flicking droplets of blood across her face and upper chest, leaving her with a thick handful of raw meat.

“Um, I always forget details like this,” she said thoughtfully. “How important is it to you guys that meat be cooked before you eat it?”

“It’s fairly important,” Teal said, her voice faint.

“Ah. Well, I guess we’ll need to make a fire, then…” She pulled off a few strands of muscle and tucked them into her mouth, slurping them up like spaghetti. Gabe, having chosen that moment to look up at her again, immediately turned away; Toby stepped over to drape an arm over his shoulders as Juniper carried on with her mouth full. “Y’don’ min’ if I do, righ’?”

“Knock yourself out,” said Ruda, and finished off her bourbon.

“You’ve got blood in your hair,” Fross noted.

“Yeah, I’ll clean up after we’re done here,” the dryad said cheerfully. In fact, she had apparently opened an artery in her prey and now had blood splattered across herself rather liberally, including dripping from the corners of her mouth. “Doesn’t seem much point when I’m just gonna get all bloody again! Now, who’s got a knife? Or I can just keep tearing, it’s no trouble!”

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2 – 2

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It quickly became apparent which of them were accustomed to hiking, and which were not. Very rapidly the sun climbed, the air heated, and the more indoorsy of the students began to struggle with the erratic pace Professor Rafe set as he darted back and forth, picking plants and usually shouting gleefully about them. Juniper, likewise, would sometimes rush away to investigate something growing, but little that they found made much of an impression on the other students. The Golden Sea was a featureless plain stretching in all directions, with not so much as a shrub to break the shimmering monotony. The variety of grasses to be found was limited and of interest only to their resident herbalist and dryad. For the most part, the rest of the freshman class were preoccupied with the heat and their aching legs.

Just about when the sun had risen high enough to banish the colors of dawn and turn the sky crystal blue, they came to a sudden halt when Gabriel let out a yelp.

“The mountain!” he shouted, facing back the way they’d come. “It’s gone!”

“Nonsense, it’s right where we left it,” Professor Rafe said easily. “We’re gone.”

“Wh—I know we’re gone, but we’ve barely been walking an hour! That mountain is freaking huge, we should still be able to see it from here.”

“Oh, you worry too much,” Rafe said, grinning easily. “Like you said, it’s huge. I’m sure we’ll find it again when we need it. For now: further up and farther in!”

“Are you nuts?!” Ruda shouted. “The Golden Sea shifts around and changes, everyone knows that. We’ve been shunted off to fuck knows where! How the hell are we gonna get back?”

“I’m sure something’ll turn up,” their professor said breezily, turning back around and strolling off. “Come on, that’s why it’s called an adventure! Get into the spirit, Punaji. Now keep a lookout for any interesting geographical features, kids. We’ll wanna stop pretty soon to rest our legs and have some breakfast. Sitting down in standing tallgrass is kind of a pain, much less making a fire.”

“I knew it!” Ruda pointed at him, turning to glare around at the others. “I fucking called it. The moron’s led us out here to die.”

“Then we shall die as heroes!” Rafe bellowed, already ten yards distant. “ONWARD TO GLORY!”

“Shut the fuck up, you asshole!”

“If I may?” Shaeine raised her voice only slightly, but it was sufficiently out of her normal character that both Ruda and Gabe stopped and turned to look at her. “Do you recall Professor Tellwyrn saying in our first class that there is a geas upon the University that prevents outsiders from knowing its true name?”

“Yeah, what of it?”

“There is more to it than that. Initiates of the Unseen University can always find it from the Golden Sea. The general rule of navigating the Sea is that going uphill leads one farther in, while going downhill leads toward the edges.

“Wait, there’s a hill?” Gabriel looked around, then lifted one of his feet and checked under it, as if expecting to find a squashed hill beneath his boot.

“The incline is slight, but it’s noticeable,” said Trissiny. “Look to the east or west.”

“Moving laterally is…effectively random,” Shaeine went on, “in terms of where the Sea will put you. For most people, exiting the region may mean departing at any point at it circumference, but we will always come back to Last Rock.”

“Oh. Okay.” Ruda let out a breath slowly. “That…would’ve been nice to know a little earlier.”

“Yup!” said Rafe cheerily, coming back to join them. “And since our resident pixie is clearly an ice elemental and not an exposition fairy—”

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

“—you can assume that Shaeine came by her knowledge the old-fashioned way, by braving the wrath of Grumpypants McPonytail to access the library. Which you could also have done, had you been arsed to do the slightest of prep work before swaggering off into one of the world’s most dangerous wildernesses. This is what we in the biz call a ‘teaching moment.’” Grinning, he pointed a finger at Ruda and pantomimed squeezing a clicker with his thumb. “Zzzzzap! You’re dead.”

“Up yours, twinkletoes.”

“Wait, who’s Grumpypants McPonytail?” Fross asked.

“The librarian,” said Gabriel.

“I…wait, what? The librarian’s name is Weaver. I’m positive it is, I pay close attention to him. He said he was gonna put me in a bottle and use me as a lamp if I got frost on the books.”

“Grumpypants is his nickname,” Rafe said solemnly, “a hard-earned moniker that gives due credence to his vast contributions to the field of being grumpy.”

“Oh.” Fross buzzed around in a circle a couple of times. “Should…should I call him that?”

“Yes!” chorused Rafe, Gabe and Ruda, wearing identical grins.

“No,” Trissiny said firmly, dividing a hard look among the three. “Don’t make fun of her. How would you like it if someone set you up for that kind of rude awakening?”

“Oh, pish tosh,” Rafe said cheerily. “How do you think Arachne welcomed me to the staff?”

“I am so confused,” said Fross.

Toby cleared his throat loudly. “Since we seem to have stopped anyway, how does breakfast sound to anyone else?”

“Remember what I was saying just now about camping in the tallgrass?” Rafe said condescendingly. “We can do that if you really want, but honestly, it’s a recipe for getting really itchy even before the bugs start climbing up your clothes.”

“Bugs?” Gabriel squawked, jumping to the side and looking down under his feet again.

“I remember, thanks,” Toby said patiently, then pointed off to the group’s right. “How’s that?”

Visible above the shoulder-high grass about thirty yards away was a flat-topped outcropping of stone. Its surface was irregular and slightly angled, but looked large enough to hold them all comfortably, and more besides. It had definitely not been there a moment ago.

“Ha-hah!” Rafe crowed. “Brilliant! Good eye, Mr. Caine, your quick thinking has saved us all a raging case of ass grass! ONWARD TO BREAKFAST!” He charged off toward the rocks, flailing with both arms to push tallgrass out of his way.

“I still say we’re gonna—”

“Oh, give it a rest, Ruda,” Trissiny said sharply, and stalked off after Rafe.

The pirate lifted her head to scratch at her head, peering quizzically after her roommate. “What’s with her?”

“Dunno,” said Gabe, following the paladin. “Don’t care. Imma go sit down.”


 

The lowest end of the flat rock was about chest-high, and had a convenient pile of tumbled stones on one side that enabled them to scramble up without difficulty. Rafe commented, as he set up a fire, that this boulder was probably a piece of the same mountain on which the University sat, hurled into the Golden Sea millennia ago by the explosion that had half-sunk the plateau. His pupils were mostly disinterested—only Gabriel was paying him any attention, and that was not to anything Rafe was saying, but to the fire he’d set up by liberally coating a handful of tallgrass stalks in oil from a vial he’d taken from his belt. They burned as hot and steadily as a stack of wood.

Rafe sang off-key in elvish as he fried bacon and eggs. He and his cook fire were set up on the tallest part of the rock, and also the only completely flat one. The eight students sat in small clumps along the long, downward-sloping surface, positioned mostly facing west to keep the sun out of their eyes. Even without being blinded, there was no escaping the heat. None of them wanted to be anywhere near the fire.

“Aren’t you hot under all that?” Teal asked, sitting down beside Shaeine, who as usual when outdoors, kept her hood well up. “I thought Professor Rafe gave you sun oil for your skin.”

“He did. I don’t like to complain,” the drow demurred. “The heat I can suffer; without the shade of my hood, I’m afraid my eyesight is rather poor in this level of illumination. At home, I’d thought being out in the sun would be like walking in the agricultural caverns, with their sun crystals. I’m afraid they do not do justice to the real thing.”

Teal nodded, a smile tugging at her lips. “So…aren’t you hot under all that?”

Shaeine shifted slightly. “…extremely, yes.”

“Oh!” The bard sat bolt upright, then clapped a hand to her face. “Oh, damn it, I’m sorry… I meant to do this before we set up, but I overslept and then it just went right out of my head. Hang on.” Pulling over her backpack, she pried one of its smaller compartments open and withdrew an oblong leather case. “Here. I got this for you in town. It was gonna be a surprise…just, ahem, a more timely one. Sorry about that.”

Shaeine took the little case carefully and flicked it open with her thumbs. Inside nestled a pair of rectangular eyeglasses, made of smoky black glass.

“They’re enchanted,” Teal said a little nervously. “Should protect your eyes from the glare, even though they won’t cover your whole face, obviously. It seems to work for Natchua. I thought the rimless ones were more your style, though… Oh, and the rubber coatings for the earpieces are detachable, so I got the ones in dark red and green. Awarrion colors, right?”

Gingerly, Shaeine unfolded the glasses and slipped them into the depths of her hood. After a moment’s adjusting, she lowered the cowl of her robe, revealing her face; her hair glowed under the full sunlight. The dark glasses made her look oddly rakish, in contrast to her serene demeanor.

“Thank you, Teal,” she said softly. “This was extremely thoughtful.”

Teal grinned delightedly. “You like ’em?”

“I do. Very much.” She smiled in return, an expression that was just a perceptible hair warmer than her usual polite smile. After a moment, Teal, cleared her throat and glanced away, biting her lower lip.

“Well, it’ll at least help out here. Honestly, I don’t know how you’ve been managing in Ezzaniel’s class.”

“With my eyes narrowed to slits, actually. It is less than optimal, but allows me to preserve some vision, at least. And I am accustomed to using other senses to compensate.”

“Wait, wait, hold up,” said Ruda from a few feet away, craning her neck to look around Teal at the drow. “Are you telling me that on our first class, you fought me to a draw with your eyes closed?!”

“Not closed,” Shaeine clarified. “Narrowed.”

The pirate groaned and collapsed backward onto the rock. “My humiliation is complete. I should give Papa back the sword and become a fisherwoman.”

“Or,” Shaeine said gently, “apply yourself in Professor Ezzaniel’s class and return home a better warrior than you left.”

“No, no.” Ruda placed her hat over her face and waved a hand dismissively. “It’s all over. I’ll just lie here and wait for decomposition. Clearly, I do not even deserve a proper burial at sea.”

“Now, help me out here, ’cause I can’t always tell,” Gabriel said, grinning. “Is this ironic self-pity, or do you actually need your diaper changed?”

“Arquin, if my legs weren’t so fucking sore, one of ’em would be halfway up your ass right now.”

“Whoah, girl, let’s save that for the third date,” he said, grinning, then barreled on before she could reply. “I like your vest, by the way. I don’t think I’ve seen you in that before. Is it armor?”

Under her long coat, Ruda wore a tight midriff-baring vest of sturdy leather, embroidered sparingly with blue thread to offset it obviously utilitarian design. “Yeah,” she said without looking out from under her hat. “It’s armored.”

“Well, I should point out that it leaves your tummy exposed. Y’know, the part that has all your vital organs?”

“Just because you can point something out doesn’t mean you should, Gabe,” Toby remarked.

“Well, what can I say,” Ruda shrugged. “I’m a creature of style. I’ll be the swankiest disemboweled corpse in the group.”

“Oh, don’t listen to her,” Juniper said cheerfully, “she’s just funning you again. That’s for support.”

“June,” Ruda said, a note of warning in her voice.

Gabriel blinked and cocked his head. “Support?”

“Yeah!” the dryad bubbled on. “We’re gonna be doing a lot of physical activity on this trip, probably, and Ruda’s pretty busty. Breasts actually get really uncomfortable if you just let ’em bounce around. Like, even painful, for the bigger ones. They’re just glandular tissue and a coating of fat, with a lot of nerve endings, so they need some artificial structure to avoid getting hurt.”

“Really,” Gabriel said, grinning broadly. Across from him, Toby sighed.

“Juniper,” Ruda said more firmly, sitting up and adjusting her hat.

“Yup!” Juniper went on blithely. “Well, not mine, of course, but I don’t really have the same kind of nervous system you guys do. Also my internal structure is more…well, that’s kinda off the topic. She’s probably fine with a good brassiere most of the time, but when we’re gonna be out—”

“Juniper,” Ruda said sharply, finally getting the dryad’s attention.

“Hm?”

“Remember when you asked me to warn you when you were talking about things that aren’t for polite company?”

“Uh, yes?” The pirate stared at her evenly. Juniper gazed back, nonplussed. “…what about it?”

“I think she means you’re doing that now,” Fross piped up.

“What? I… Wait, really?” Juniper frowned. “You don’t talk about breasts in public?”

“Not as a rule, no.”

“But that’s just crazy,” she protested. “Boys love breasts. Even the gay ones. Girls, too. Everyone, just about! It’s pretty much a universal positive. Everybody can gather together and bond over breasts. Nobody doesn’t like them!”

“She speaks wisdom!” Gabriel proclaimed, his grin having reached almost Rafe-like proportions. “This is a profound revelation of truth and society would be better for everyone if the whole world accepted Juniper’s understanding.”

“See, he gets it!” The dryad nodded enthusiastically. “Gabe definitely loves breasts.”

“It’s true,” he agreed.

“And he could really benefit from an open discussion of the subject, too. I mean, I like being roughed up a bit…well, heck, I like just about everything…but I’m concerned for the first human girl he sleeps with, if he’s not a bit more gentle.”

Gabriel’s smile slipped. “Uh, wait a second, Juno…”

“I mean, really, you don’t seem to grasp that that’s one scenario where you want to suck on something without trying to suck it off, y’know?”

Ruda fell back to the stone, howling with laughter.

“Wait, stop!” Gabriel waved his arms frantically. “I changed my mind! I’m with Ruda, now. Inappropriate! Subject closed!”

Juniper blinked her eyes twice, glanced back and forth between him and Ruda, then sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Aw, man… I can’t say anything right, can I?”

“Aw, c’mere, you,” Ruda said cheerfully, getting up and going to sit down beside the dryad. She threw an arm over Juniper’s shoulders. “You’re an adorable little numbnut, y’know that? Don’t ever change.”

“Thanks, I’ll…try not to? Oh, but I don’t actually have nuts. I’m not technically a tree, you know.”

“So noted.”

“Also, nothing on me is numb.”

Ruda grinned diabolically at Gabriel. “So I hear.”

“Students! Companions! Fellow adventurers!” Rafe waved a spatula at them from the top of the rock. “BEHOLD! I give you the glory that is EGGS AND BACON! And also beans.”


 

“We have to what?” Gabriel exclaimed.

“Hunt!” Professor Rafe cried exultantly, stomping ahead of them through the tallgrass. It was late midmorning and several of the students were as worn out and hungry as they’d ever been at the end of a long day. Rafe had finally settled down and set a more reasonable pace, after he ran out of things to show them. It hadn’t taken long; there was a starkly finite number of grass species to be found, and after the flat rock on which they’d paused for breakfast, the Golden Sea had stubbornly refused to yield any more interesting geographical features.

“None of us knows anything about hunting!”

“At least one of you does,” Rafe said cheerfully, glancing back over his shoulder. “And really, Gabe, you might wanna let someone else get the next round of whining. I admire your enthusiasm, but we’re all here to learn! Well, you’re all here to learn. So maybe you set up camp and, say, Fross can whinge and gripe about everything.”

“Um, is he serious?” Fross asked nervously, fluttering along just above the tallgrass. “Is this humor? I don’t really have anything to gripe about.”

“Why the hell didn’t you bring enough food?!” Gabriel bulled on.

“Because, princess, the whole point of this outing is for you lot to try your hand at keeping your butts alive in the howling wilderness! What, you want I should bring along a Butler, set up a pavilion each evening? Have your meals catered? Maybe with an orchestra and dancers, yes?” Gabriel fell to cursing under his breath; Rafe laughed at him and went on. “The eggs you just ate were all I brought. We’ve got beans, jerkey, hardtack and tea. That is it, boys and girls. From this point on, you wanna eat, you best damn well find something to eat!”

“We could stay stocked up on protein by grazing as we go,” Juniper said brightly. “There’s lots of bugs in this grass.”

During the general outpouring of groans at this suggestion, and Juniper’s confused response, Toby shortened his pace slightly, falling back to walk beside Trissiny, who’d appointed herself rear guard.

“You seem to be in your element,” he commented.

To her horror, she felt a flush climbing up her neck; she blurted out before it could take hold in her face: “Well, it’s not my first hike, by a long shot. I mean, we didn’t do a lot of walking for its own sake, but, yeah, Sisters in training do cover wilderness survival. It’s pretty important for those who plan on going into the Silver Legions. It’s not really my thing, per se. Not that I mind it.” Oh, goddess, Trissiny, shut up, she commanded herself silently. “I guess, yeah, I’m maybe a little less out of my element than the others. Well, some of the others. I don’t mean you! I mean, I don’t know what kind of training you have.” Shut! Up!

Toby, fortunately, laughed softly. He had a nice laugh; it made her feel included, not mocked. “The walking doesn’t bother me; Omnist monks keep pretty fit. The sun definitely doesn’t, of course.”

“Oh, right, yes. Omnu. Sun god, that makes sense.” What is going on?! she berated herself. When did I forget how to hold a conversation? This had been the first time they’d talked alone in weeks. She didn’t remember it being this awkward before. Of course, the last time had been before the…incident.

Toby nodded. “My complexion is too dark to burn, ordinarily, anyway, but it is nice not to have to worry about sunstroke. It’s the little things that make a paladin’s life bearable, eh?” He grinned at her sidelong; she couldn’t help smiling rather foolishly back.

“I know you have that aura of serenity you can use… I didn’t realize Omnu… Well, actually, now that I open my mouth I’m remembering I have no idea what I’m talking about. I don’t know what Omnist paladins get.”

“Don’t you have any special perks? Like, an aura of command or something?”

She had to laugh at that. “Do I seem like I have an aura of command?”

“Well, yes,” he said frankly. “I’m not the only one who’s noticed, either. Honestly, I suspect that’s why your roommate seems to butt heads with you; I don’t think she likes authority very much.”

Trissiny didn’t know what to say to that. The silence began to stretch, feeling heavier with each passing second; almost frantically, she grasped at the first thing that came to mind. “Well, it’s not a divine gift, but apparently I’m a General in the Imperial Army. I mean…automatically, by default, all Hands of Avei are. They didn’t tell me about that at the Abbey… Mother Narny probably didn’t want it to go to my head. I, uh, had a kind of awkward encounter with your roommates, the first time I ran across them. Apparently they can’t even talk to me unless I say ‘at ease’ first. It was a challenge to figure that out, with them doing nothing but standing at attention and answering only direct questions. Tellwyrn had to explain it to me.”

At that, he laughed again. She could listen to his laugh all day… “Yeah, they mentioned that. Rook’s got a case of hero worship going for you, I think.”

“Really? Isn’t he the one who looks rumpled even when he’s not?”

“Hah, that’s a pretty good description! Well, it’s like I said: aura of command. If it’s not a gift from Avei, it must just be you, then.” He smiled over at her, and she felt another blush rising. Trying to conceal it, she moved a hand over her ear as though tucking away an errant strand of hair. There was none, of course; her braid was firmly in place. “You manage to make an impression, whatever it is. People either want to fight you or respect you.”

So far, so good… If they could just avoid the bad subjects…

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me for the last few weeks?” she heard herself ask quietly.

…why, brain? What did I ever do to you?

He lowered his eyes, silently watching the grass ahead as they walked. In front, Rafe and the other students carried on their banter; the voices washed over the two of them, finding no purchase.

“I wasn’t sure you’d want to hear from me,” he said finally. “After my best friend started a fight with you over nothing.”

Trissiny was so surprised she almost stopped walking; she did stumble slightly, hoping he didn’t make anything of it. Toby felt awkward? After being chewed out by Tellwyrn and then Avei, enduring jabs from Ruda and some sniping from Gabriel himself during their nightly dish-washing sessions, it had come to seem to her that everybody blamed her for what had happened. She didn’t quite know how to explain this to Toby, however.

“You mean, you don’t blame me for that?”

Well, that worked.

He looked up at her, startlement registering on his features. “What? No, of course not! I got the full report from Gabe himself; even he says it was his own stupid fault.” His eyes widened. “Oh, Triss, is that what you thought? I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel—that is, it didn’t occur to me you’d think…”

“It’s okay!” she said quickly. She actually was not sure whether it was, but he looked so upset. She hated to see him upset. “It’s, uh…actually kind of funny, I guess. We both thought the other was mad.”

This time, his laugh had a bitter undertone. “Some peacemaker I am. Well, I apologize anyway, Trissiny. I certainly didn’t want to add to your burdens. Especially after Gabriel did.”

“You’re not responsible for Gabriel.”

“I sort of am, though. I mean…no, technically, I’m not, but I feel that way. I’ve always kind of…looked out for him. Well, we did for each other. It really kills me that you guys don’t get along… He’s like a brother to me, and you’re one of the most admirable people I know.”

“People have to make their own mistakes,” she said vaguely. After not speaking with him for weeks, she did not want to talk about Gabriel Arquin. He really found her admirable?

“The thing is,” he went on quietly, “Gabe is… I think he’d be just about the best person I know if he would just think before acting, or opening his mouth. You really haven’t seen what’s he’s like, deep down. He works hard to do the right thing, and he’s a great guy to have your back. He’s just…well, a little reckless, I guess.”

“Being thoughtless isn’t a charming personality quirk on anyone,” she said stiffly. “For a half-demon, I’d say it qualifies as a real problem.” Did they really have to talk about this?

“You’re not wrong,” Toby said solemnly. “And I’m only just starting to realize that. He’s always been just Gabe to me. We grew up together, and…well, maybe I have a blind spot there. It never occurred to me before that he might actually hurt someone.”

Trissiny held her silence. She didn’t trust herself to say anything that wouldn’t offend him.

“GUYS!” Abruptly, Professor Rafe rushed over to them, scattering the other students in his abrupt change of course. His expression was even more maniacally gleeful than usual; Trissiny felt a sudden urge to kick him in the shin. “Guysguysguysguys! C’mere, come over here, you gotta see this!” So saying, he charged off to the left of the group.

“Onward to glory,” Toby muttered, and Trissiny shot him a grin.

Rafe left a trail of mashed tallgrass leading to a patch of leafy green stalks that towered over them. He skidded to a halt in before this, leaving the freshmen to meander in behind him. Flinging both arms wide, he actually hopped up and down twice in excitement. “BEHOLD! A wonder of the Golden Sea! A marvelous plant! A gift from the very gods themselves! CORN!”

For a moment, only the rustling of the breeze in the grass could be heard. A hawk cried in the distance.

“You rushed all the way over here to show us corn?” Gabriel said in disgust. He had moved more slowly than the others in responding to Rafe’s enthusiasm and now stood at the rear edge of the group.

“Hell yes I did!” Rafe crowed. “Corn is awesome.”

“Um,” said Teal, “this…this is cultivated. Look, it’s planted in neat rows. And the patch is almost square.”

“Isn’t it great?” their professor gushed. “Ooh, and it looks about ripe, too. Everybody grab an ear. You’ve never tasted corn till you’ve had it right off the stalk.”

“Or,” Ruda said loudly, “or, we all back the hell away and get outta here before whoever’s ballsy enough to farm in the Golden goddamn Sea comes back and finds us fucking around with their corn.”

“Uh, yeah,” Gabe said nervously. “About that…”

Everyone turned to look at him, and the group shied away as one.

An elf had appeared out of the tallgrass.

She wore simple buckskin shirt and trousers, bleached almost white and decorated with erratic, vertical streaks of brown and gold that blended seamlessly with the waving grasses. Similar markings were painted on her face, and dark strands were dyed through her honey-blonde hair. The camouflage was nearly perfect; even having stepped out of the grass into the cleared area around the cornfield, she seemed almost to fade into it.

The cleverness of her garb wasn’t what held their attention, however. In her right hand was a wand, the tip of which was pressed against Gabriel’s throat.

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“You can’t do this to us!”

“It’s murder!”

“He’ll drop us all down a well or something!”

“There have to be laws about this kind of thing!”

“Don’t you have a bleeding heart, woman?”

“Children!” Professor Tellwyrn shouted in exasperation. “You’ve been here nearly a month. You were told on the first day that you’d be graded primarily on field work. This expedition has been scheduled for two weeks. The announcement of the professor leading it went out five days ago. Honestly, if you want to put up a fuss about things that aren’t going to change, that’s your lookout, but just now?” She shot them an irritated look over her shoulder. “I have no tolerance for procrastination.”

Tellwyrn stepped off the staircase, cutting diagonally across the grass about three fourths of the way down the mountain, with the girls of Clarke Tower trailing along behind her. Ruda, Teal and Fross kept right on her heels, exchanging glances and gearing up for another round of complaints; the others followed a bit more sedately. Everyone was carrying a well-stuffed backpack, and not everyone was fully awake yet. Most of them weren’t used to being up before the sun.

“It’s one thing to know something’s coming,” Ruda ventured at last. “This is last-minute panic. As in, ‘holy shit, they’re actually going to send us out into the goddamn wilderness with an idiot from another dimension as a tour guide.’”

Tellwyrn actually laughed at her, not turning around, and lengthened her stride. The line stretched out as the girls made varying degrees of effort to keep up. They remained mostly quiet, though, for the rest of the trip down. Their professor had cut a path that avoided the town, depositing them at the base of the mountain beyond its edges. The boys and their guide were already there waiting for them.

Toby smiled and waved; Gabriel appeared to be asleep standing up. Upon their approach, Professor Rafe turned and threw out his arms as though offering the world a hug, beaming delightedly.

“BEHOLD!”

“We’re gonna fuckin’ die,” Ruda said.

“Ten points, Punaji!” he crowed, pumping a fist in the air. “But pace yourself. And remember, people do have feelings.”

“We,” she repeated, “are going to fucking die.”

“Yup,” said Gabe. “Can we just do that now and save ourselves a hike?”

“All right, enough,” Tellwyrn said flatly. “Admestus, go wait up ahead.”

“Aw, but I was gonna make a speech!”

“You can speech while walking. Go.”

He turned and trudged away, shoulders slumped, in an exaggerated pantomime of dejection. Naturally, this did not set a very fast pace.

“Now!” Tellwyrn shouted. He shuffled faster, taking off at a near run, still with his arms hanging limply and head down.

“Are you seeing the problem, here?” said Ruda.

“He has no respect for rules!” Fross added shrilly. “Not even basic standards of civilized behavior! I don’t think he even gets how to—”

“Enough,” Tellwyrn said flatly, with enough force that they all fell silent. She tilted her head down, staring at them over the rims of her spectacles. “Admestus Rafe has created a limited anti-death potion.”

There was a moment’s silence.

“That’s impossible,” Ruda finally scoffed.

“Wait, anti-death?” Gabriel paused to yawn, scratching his head. “Isn’t that just, y’know…medicine?”

“Miss Punaji, you seem to have done some out-of-class reading,” said Tellwyrn. “Care to take this one?”

Ruda scowled at her, but answered grudgingly. “Medicines are made to treat specific problems. An anti-death potion is just that: it prevents death. If you take one, anything that would cause death just doesn’t affect you.”

“Huh,” Gabe said, then blinked owlishly. “Wait…how’s that even work?”

“It fucking doesn’t!” Ruda exclaimed. “It’s like eight different kinds of tautologically impossible. It’s a myth, like the Philosopher’s Stone.”

“Actually, Philosopher’s Stones are real,” said Professor Tellwyrn, “but the Empire tends to disappear people who have them, since manufacturing gold on any significant scale would implode the economy overnight. But back to the topic at hand, yes, anti-death potions are quite impossible; they violate several physical and magical laws. And yes, Admestus Rafe created one.”

She let that sink in for a moment, panning her gaze around them. Several of the assembled freshmen still barely looked awake, but they were all quiet, now, and paying attention. “Your professors at this University were offered employment here because they are the best living practitioners of whatever art they teach,” she went on at last. “They were not selected for their academic qualifications.” She glanced over at Rafe, who was now standing on his head, facing out at the Golden Sea. “…or social skills. The exception being Professor Yornhaldt, who is one of the greatest teaching mages alive, but honestly I hired him to be a calming influence on this place. Regardless, before you start getting uppity, be aware of who you’re dealing with, and why they deserve some respect.”

“Well, that’s all well and good,” said Fross, “I mean, he’s good at alchemy, that’s very impressive, but we’re not doing alchemy on this trip unless someone gave me the wrong assignment parameters, which I’m gonna be really mad if that’s true because that’s a mean thing to do to someone. We’re basically doing wilderness survival with miscellaneous other tasks and maybe someone who’s good with alchemy and doesn’t have the most basic social skills isn’t the best choice for keeping eight students alive in the depths of a huge, endless magical prairie?”

“Ah, but that’s not his job,” Tellwyrn replied, holding up one finger. “It’s yours. This is something of a dry year; ordinarily I have a much bigger freshman class to deal with. However, even just the eight of you are a force to contend with. You’ve heard a lot about the dangers of the Golden Sea, and what you’ve heard was not exaggerated, but keep it firmly in mind that as long as you don’t fall to backstabbing each other you rank high among those dangers. Follow Juniper’s lead on outdoor survival issues and Trissiny’s in a combat situation. Let Shaeine and Toby handle any negotiations that you need to do. You’ll be fine.”

“And the rest of us are what, chopped liver?” Ruda asked sourly.

Tellwyrn grinned at her. “You each have a valuable role to play, as anyone can attest who’s tried to play a game of chess without pawns.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

“While Professor Rafe does have some friends and contacts out in the Golden Sea which may prove useful to you, all that is secondary.” Tellwyrn laced her fingers together in front of her stomach, looking smug. “He is there to watch you, not watch over you, and report back on your performance pertaining to the core classes in which you’ll be given credit for this outing: history, combat, magic and herbalism. In short, you’re going out there to deal with people, fight things, contend with local magical forces and make use of native plants. Your assignment, kids, is to have an adventure.”

“That’s just idiotic,” Gabriel groused. “This is the twelfth century. Nobody does that anymore.”

“I kind of want to,” Juniper piped up. “It sounds like fun!”

“In a sense, yes, a journey into the Golden Sea is a journey into the past,” said Tellwyrn. “You’re accustomed to living in a settled, civilized world, full of mortal laws and the institutions that enforce them.”

“Um, excuse me, but—”

“Except Juniper and Fross,” Tellwyrn amended. “The point is, the Golden Sea is a patch of land where such things have never taken hold, and likely never will, nor can. Testing yourself in such a state of existence will give you a firsthand idea what life was like for your ancestors. More to the point, it will give you the opportunity to strengthen and harden yourself as they had to merely to survive. There is a tradeoff, students, for living in a comfortable world of systems. You gain numerous assets and advantages from being part of an advanced society, but you are denied the opportunity to develop the toughness and inventiveness that people in less fortunate societies must. I intend to see that you go out into the world with the advantages of both. I’m setting you up to win at life, kids. Kindly stop bitching at me about it.”

“I would rather you didn’t use that word.”

“Oh, give it a rest, Trissiny,” Tellwyrn sighed. “Anyhow, we are done here. There’s your guide…the skinny man now doing cartwheels in the grass…and there’s the Golden Sea. Off with you, try not to get killed, don’t stab each other in the back. I’ll be up here enjoying some peace and goddamn quiet.”

“Does she know there are other students on this campus?” Gabriel asked as Tellwyrn turned to go.

“Shh,” said Ruda, grinning. “She’s making a dramatic exit. Respect the exit, man.”

Rafe must have heard them approaching, assuming those ears of his weren’t merely decorative, but he didn’t turn around until the eight freshmen came to a stop right behind him, several dropping their backpacks to the grass. He stood, silently, staring out into the Golden Sea.

“We live in fishbowls,” the alchemy professor intoned quietly. A soft wind blew across the prairie, making his golden hair shimmer along with the waves of tallgrass, both gleaming in the orange light of a new sunrise. “Our lives are ordered, structured, safe. We are fed, provided for, housed, and in return our labors go to sustain the grand machine of civilization. It makes us healthier…in some ways stronger. More secure. But we forget, sometimes, just who and what we are. And so, my children, we embark on this voyage into the great beyond, into the last of the wilds, where there will be no one to catch us where we fall. We will live as animals, as savages. We will live. I say unto you…” He slowly raised both arms from his sides, extending them fully as if to embrace the prairie itself, and drew in a deep breath.

“BEHOLD!” shouted nine voices in unison.

Rafe turned around to face them, grinning broadly. “See, this is why I love you guys. You get me.”

“You’re not that complicated, man,” said Gabriel.

“All right, kids,” the professor said, suddenly brisk and all business. “Grab your satchels and your asses, we are out of here! Let’s go grub around in some dirt. ONWARD TO GLORY!”

He took off at a run into the prairie, not even turning to see if they followed.

“Yup,” Ruda said fatalistically. “Everybody remember that I called it. We are going to fucking die.”


 

As if to prove that nature itself bore him a grudge, vast improbabilities aligned such that neither the region’s interminable rains nor the discharges of the city’s magical factories blotted out the sky on the morning that, a little after seven, Bishop Darling’s bedroom drapes were flung open. Brilliant, hateful sunlight burst in upon his peace like a stampede of buffalo.

“GRAAAUGH!” he roared, coming awake in the most unpleasant manner he could remember. Sleep-addled, Darling tried to throw off his blankets with one hand while pulling them over his head with the other, succeeding brilliantly in entangling himself. “PRICE! What in the fell hell are you doing?!”

“Good morning, your Grace,” his Butler said crisply, stepping away from the windows and beginning to swiftly lay out a suit from his wardrobe.

“What bloody time is it?”

“Nearly two hours before your Grace’s customary breakfast. You have a visitor. I took the liberty of installing her in the downstairs parlor.”

“Visitaaaaaaaarh.” The word was mangled by an enormous yawn, but at least he finally managed to extricate himself from his blankets. “She? Who in Omnu’s flaming name would be daft enough to barge in here at this hour?”

“One of the young talents at the Pink Lady, a Miss Rose.”

He blinked, then frowned. “Wh… Rose knows how to get in touch with me. There are channels, procedures. She also knows damn well better than to show up here.”

“Indeed, your Grace has spoken positively of her wits and discretion. The young lady appears quite distraught. I gathered that the circumstances must be exceptional and took the liberty of awakening your Grace, lest the matter should require immediate attention.”

“Right,” he said, shook his head to clear away the fog of sleep, and then repeated more firmly, “right. Good thinking, Price. I’ll dress, you brush.”

“Very good, your Grace.”

He tossed aside his silk pajamas and stuffed himself into one of Sweet’s better suits, an only slightly shabby outfit in royal blue and maroon. Price darted about him like an efficient hummingbird, sorting his sleep-tousled hair into a semblance of a proper order.

“Shoes,” he asked, looking around for them, as they finished this joint task. Price handed him a pair of slippers. “…really?”

“Laces are a relatively time-consuming prospect, your Grace. Perhaps we ought not leave the young lady to wait too long.”

Darling rolled his eyes, but dropped the slippers to the ground and stepped into them. “She’s not gonna steal anything, Price. The girl’s not an idiot.”

“As you say, your Grace.”

“You are such a snob. You know that?” Rubbing the last traces of sleep from his eyes, he strode toward the door.

“As you say, your Grace.”

Price managed to barge in front of him diffidently—really, Butler training was astounding—and by the time he had reached the bottom of the stairs, was in position to open the door of the downstairs parlor for him with a bow.

It was the less impressive of the rooms in which he entertained guests, but only Bishop Darling’s guests were entertained here; Sweet went to where the people were, rather than bringing them to him. As such, the room’s thick carpet, ornate wallpaper, expensive furniture and assortment of art and knickknacks made it probably the most sumptuous room this guest had ever visited

She was standing with her back to the door, studying a silver idol of Eserion that stood over the mantle, which was about two feet above her head, treating him to a view of a pleasingly plump backside and an upper back left almost entirely bare by the uniform of her trade. Gods above, had she come in the front door? There’d be hell to pay with the neighbors… Rose jumped like a startled rabbit on his arrival, though, spinning to face him, and he felt a twinge of alarm. She was ordinarily one of the most unflappable people he knew. She had to be, in her line of work.

It grew worse as he took in the sight of her face. Tears had melted her makeup into a hideous mudslide, and apparently hadn’t stopped flowing. She looked… It was hard to pin a name to the emotion ground into her features, but it was clearly something on the ragged edge of trauma.

“Sweet,” she cried desperately, taking a stumbling step toward him. “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t’ve come, I’m sorry, but I-I-I didn’t know what to do! She’s dead, it’s such a mess… Oh, Light, she’s dead, it was just awful, I never saw nothing anything like… I never imagined… And there’s police and Imps all over, and the girls are all a wreck and Light, I hated to leave ’em but I didn’t know what to do, you’re the only one I could think of…”

“Rose!” He crossed the room in three long strides and knelt to take her gently by the shoulders, holding her gaze with his own. In ordinary circumstances it was one of the worst possible things you could do with a dwarf, short of pissing in their beer; they tended to take poorly to being reminded of any difference in stature. Rose, though, was clearly on the edge of an utter breakdown. She collapsed against him, dissolving in sobs, and he rocked her gently, heedless of what the mix of mascara and snot was inevitably doing to his suit.

“It’s okay, doll, you’re safe right now. I need you to stiffen up for just a bit, though, all right? We’ve gotta figure out what to do and I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s up. Price, fetch us some brandy?”

“Immediately, sir.”

Gently, he eased her back. “Can you hold on for just a bit longer for me, love? I know you can, you’re the strongest person I’ve ever met.” She nodded, gulped, and gasped for air, choking back another sob. “That’s my girl. Now start at the beginning, tell it slow. What happened? Who’s dead?”

Rose gulped again, and drew in a shuddering breath, staring up into his eyes. “It’s Missy, Sweet. She…it was murder. They butchered her!”


 

He was the first one off the coach when it rolled to a stop, but held the door open for the other passengers politely. Eager as he was to get the hell out of that hot, dusty, rattletrap prison, good manners were important. Without them, a body was likely to piss off the wrong people and alienate all the others. No way to do business.

The man in the cheap suit smiled politely at expressions of thanks from the old Army officer and the aging lady in the severe gray dress, and then much more warmly at her young charge. He didn’t quite dare go any further, though she was a lovely little piece, and had been shooting him increasingly daring grins all through yesterday. Poor girl was too sleep-struck to carry on their silent flirtation now; he was the only one who hadn’t managed to nod off during the overnight ride. Ah, well, nothing could have come of it anyway, though he did treat himself to a long appraisal of her rear as she collected her luggage and made her way into the town.

His own suitcase was the last to be handed down. The discourtesy of it rankled, even as it suited his purposes; he wanted to pause here and get a good look at Last Rock before getting down to work.

A wooden footbridge arched over the Rail line from the coach stop, which was the only thing on this side of the line from the town itself. This was where the road was, and for some damn fool reason the Imperial Survey had decided the Rail was of more import to the town than the means of transportation favored by honest folk since time immemorial. Not that he was honest folk by any means, but it was the principle of the thing. He could have made this journey in minutes rather than days had he taken the Rail, but he had ridden that damnable contraption once before, and it had been plenty. How anybody got out of it without broken bones was mystery to him.

He accepted his suitcase from the driver with a curt nod and turned away, noting the man’s clenched jaw at the lack of a tip and not caring. The guy would be on the road again soon and he’d never see him again, so why waste the effort, or the copper? Plenty of both would be needed in the town in the days to come. Settling his hat over his slicked-back hair, he set off for the footbridge.

The mountain was an awe-inspiring sight, especially with the University clinging to its peak, though he couldn’t see that as well from this close up, what with the angle of the mount itself. Still, the University wasn’t his business, at least not directly. His firm orders were to stay the hell away from it.

Crossing the bridge, he made his way right for the first tavern he saw, a place with a sign proclaiming it the Ale & Wenches. Sounded like his kind of spot.

Inside, the A&W was asleep, as all reasonable taverns were at not nearly long enough after sunrise. A groggy-looking boy was busy sweeping up the floor, and raised his head to blink stupidly at him as he entered.

“Mornin’,” the man said politely, tipping his hat. No telling who this kid was or who he knew; no use getting off on the wrong foot, though the Big Guy knew the little shit looked like he didn’t have two brain cells to rub together. “I’m lookin’ for a place to stay for a spell. Got any rooms to let?”

“Uh…” The kid blinked and stared at him, and the man repressed a spike of aggravation. Really, this was no worse than he’d expected from this little cowpat town on the very edge of nowhere. “Uh, rooms’re a silver piece a night, or five fer the week. An’, uh, I’ll need a name.”

“Jeremiah Shook,” he said, still polite despite the rising urge to slap some of the stupidity out of the boy. “And if it’s not too much trouble, maybe you can help me find a friend of mine I’m lookin’ for. Heard she was settled around these parts. Name’s Principia?”

At that, the kid straightened up, suddenly a lot more alert. “You know Prin?” Oh, we wasn’t just alert. He was alarmed.

Thumper permitted himself the luxury of an honest grin, not caring how it seemed to unsettle his new acquaintance. This was the place, all right. Maybe, just maybe, he’d be able to have a little fun with this job after all.


 

Within the town, only the scrolltower was taller than the church steeple; as such, Principia was the first person to experience the sunrise. It illuminated her and her perch from the east, warm orange light causing the crystalline coating of the ankh atop the structure to burst into radiant life, then sliding progressively down the steeple, doing interesting things to the subtle highlights in her black hair. Even looking north as she was, it would have been half-blinding to a human. Her eyes, of course, had no trouble.

She leaned back against the sloping wooden obelisk, arms folded across her chest, heels resting on the tiny lip at the base of the steeple. Wind blew errant locks of her hair loose from the tight ponytail into which she’d pulled it, but she ignored this. It wasn’t strong enough to affect her balance.

The elf watched, face intent, as the small column of people set out from the base of the mountain, heading into the Golden Sea. They weren’t setting much of a pace; it took hours for them to vanish over the horizon. Still she stood there, motionless as a gargoyle, as the wind faded, the day heated, dew turned to steam and the ruddy glow of sunrise turned into the steadily hot glare of day. Not until the town had come fully alive did she finally move. Even her elven eyes could no longer see the students.

Principia leaned her head back, looking momentarily up into the bright blue sky, and sighed softly.

“Keep her safe. Just for a while longer. Please.”

She kicked herself carelessly forward, dropping down to the sloping roof of the church, slid down its shingles on her heels, and plummeted to the alley below, where she landed as silently and gracefully as a cat.

Whistling, she strolled off down the street, returning greetings from her fellow townsfolk with her customary insouciance. Just a pretty young woman without a care in the world.


 

“What is it?” he asked as the younger man abruptly straightened.

“Thought I saw something…”

“What?”

“I don’t… Nothing. It’s nothing. Just a flicker, I must’ve been imagining it.”

The sergeant grunted. “Write up a report.”

Private Carstairs cringed. “Aw, for…sir, there’s nothing to write. It was nothing.”

“You saw something. I saw you see it. Write the goddamn report, son.”

“But…I wouldn’t know what to write! It was…just a flicker out the corner of my eye. Probably just my lack of sleep—”

He fell silent as the sergeant rounded on him, clenching his jaw.

“I’m hearing a lot of ‘wah wah boo boo’ and not nearly enough ‘yes sir,’ private. Do you know what that fucking thing is?” He pointed below at the object of their surveillance. “That is a fucking hellgate. If you saw a flicker of movement, you write a fucking report. If you get a mysterious itch on your ass while looking in its general direction, you write a fucking report. ImCom gets a report whenever a titmouse so much as farts on this site, you understand? They will decide what is and is not significant, and they’ll know what to decide between because for every event, there is a GOD BUTTFUCKING DAMNED REPORT. Just as soon as Lord Vex starts to give a bloody shit what you think about anything, he’ll come down here and give you your promotion. Until that time, son, you will write your reports, and you will never, ever, require a superior officer to repeat himself when giving you an order. Am I INESCAPABLY clear?”

“Sir, yes, sir!” Carstairs shouted, saluting, and scrabbled for the pad of incident forms in its waterproof box affixed to one of the walls of their watchtower. He fumbled out his pen and bent over the railing, scribbling furiously, while the sergeant turned with a grunt to glare at the apparently empty stone platform the tower overlooked.

“Watch that penmanship, private.”

“Yes, sir!”

“And when your shift is over, report to the latrine. I’ll be along in an hour to inspect it, and if I find it in a lesser state of cleanliness than that which is suitable to serve tea to the Empress upon, I will redo it myself using your goddamn face. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I hear a distressing lack of enthusiasm, private.”

“YES, SIR! Thank you, sir!”

Below them, Elilial had paused in strolling past their watchtower to listen in on this exchange, and laughed delightedly. Tilting her head back, she blew a kiss up at the tower before continuing on her way into the heart of Imperial territory. Her hooves left no mark on the ground, and the soldiers, of course, neither saw nor heard her.

But the crystal scrying orbs on each corner of the tower did.

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