Tag Archives: Teal

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Trissiny, if I may?”

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

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

“My pleasure.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It is not far,” said Shaeine.

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

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

“Enough,” Trissiny said curtly, stalking forward. “Get out of the way.”

“You think you’re going to invade Leduc Manor without consequences, little girl?” he snarled. “I have means of dealing with interlopers. Don’t you dare take another step! You don’t have the authority—”

“I am the Hand of Avei!” Trissiny roared, flaring alight. Golden wings sprang forth from behind her, stretching into the cavernous emptiness of the hall and filling every corner with Avei’s radiance.

The entire building groaned as if its very stones were trying to fall down. There came cascades of sparks from across the walls and ceiling, and flashes of flame as invisible demonic wards combusted in midair around the room. Toby and Gabriel added their own blazing auras, accelerating the reaction of the manor’s defenses, and soon the whole place was filled with a haze of sulfur-scented fog. The sounds of splintering wood and breaking glass continued to echo from distant rooms.

The whole time, Trissiny didn’t so much as pause.

“You are keeping a woman imprisoned for purposes that don’t even bear mentioning!” she snarled, continuing on toward the suddenly ashen-faced Lord Leduc. “My authority ends where you muster the power to stop me, which I think you will find is nowhere!”

She casually slammed her shield into him, shoving him aside, and stalked right past. Leduc caught himself against the wall, staring in apparent stupefaction as the rest of the party trooped after Trissiny. Most gave him disdainful looks in passing. Only Fross dallied a few extra moments in the hall, conjuring up a cold wind to clear out the smoke.

“This way,” said Shaeine, slipping into the lead in the kitchen apartment and showing the others to the rear door that concealed the staircase. Vadrieny had to fold her wings in tightly to pass through, but did not retreat back into Teal. The three paladins dimmed their glows at a pointed look from the archdemon.

Moments later, the group was spreading out in the dark hall at the base of the stairs. It branched off to either side, but the room converted into Leduc’s elaborate prison stood almost across from the stairwell. Vadrieny stepped up to the door and spoke a few harsh syllables.

The others clustered around, craning their necks to peer within. The cage’s occupant had sprung upright, grasping the bars, and now stared eagerly through them at the archdemon, babbling rapidly in the same rasping tongue.

After a momentary exchange, Vadrieny nodded and withdrew, leaving only Teal, who glanced behind her at the others. “Watch your step,” she cautioned. “I don’t think the sigils on the floor will hurt any of us, but I’m not sure I wanna learn what happens when you break a holy sigil with this many demon-blooded people in the vicinity.”

“Well,” said Fross, coming to hover above her, “depending on the circumstances and the deity in question—”

“It was rhetorical, Fross,” said Ruda.

“Oh.”

“Get away from there!” Leduc howled, barreling out of the stairwell behind them. “Don’t touch her! You can’t just come in here and do this! She’s mine, I can do whatever I like with her! I know the law—succubi have no legal standing under—”

“You unbelievable imbecile, that isn’t a succubus!” Gabriel exclaimed. “Are you daft or just blind? Look at her!”

“They’re shape-shifters, you twit!” Leduc snarled right back. “She’s just being obstreperous. I have this in hand, and you will not—”

“That should have been the thing that clued you in,” Toby interrupted, staring severely at him. “A succubus wouldn’t have told you ‘no.’ They essentially never do. She’d have accepted your advances and any terms you offered and immediately begun manipulating you and working around them. You’re a diabolist; you should know that, or you have no business trying to summon one.”

“He has no business trying to summon a child of Vanislaas under any circumstances,” Trissiny snorted. “No one does.”

“Oh, so here’s the big Avenist to make sure nobody has any fun,” Leduc sneered at her. “You can talk about justice all you like, we all know you just hate the thought of a man not needing women. What are you without that control? Just a whore priced out of the market!”

Trissiny whirled and stalked right at him at a pace barely short of a run, bringing up her sword.

“Trissiny!” Shaeine said firmly. “Justice.”

The paladin came to a stop, glaring at Leduc through slitted eyes; he had staggered backward against the wall, apparently realizing only belatedly what he’d said, to judge by the horrified look on his face. After a moment she drew in a deep breath and let it out in a long hiss through her teeth. “Right. You’re correct. Thank you, Shaeine.”

“I do believe,” Ariel commented, “this man is the dumbest nominally sentient being I have ever encountered.”

“And she hangs out with Gabe! That’s sayin’ something.”

“Thank you, Ruda, for your input.”

“Oh, don’t give me that look, Arquin. Difference is, you learn. Eventually.”

Juniper cleared her throat and took Leduc by the upper arm. “Hey, can I have a word with you upstairs?”

“June,” Toby warned.

“I’m not gonna hurt him,” the dryad reassured them. “I just want to talk. C’mon, this way.” She pulled Sherwin back into the stairwell, so abruptly he nearly lost balance.

“Hey—let go of me! I won’t want—”

“Yeah, I don’t really care. You can feel free to hex me all you want, if it makes you feel better.”

His protesting voice gradually diminished as they ascended the stairs.

“I…am gonna go keep an eye on that,” Fross said, fluttering over to the stairwell. “If you need my help with anything down here, just shout.”

“Will do,” Gabriel promised, then glanced at the stairs with a frown. “And Fross? Same goes.”

“Yeah,” the pixie agreed, then zipped through the door and up the stairs.

“All right,” Toby said, turning and stepping carefully into the prison room. “What’s the plan, here?”

The rest of them followed him in, and paused, the group stretched out along the walkway of planks leading to the cage. Within, the demon now stared at them in silence, still clutching the bars.

Trissiny slowly pivoted in place, studying the room. It was practically papered in holy symbols, interrupted only where the lights were hung and the fairy altars set up.

“Well, we can’t bring her out with all this here, she’d just burn,” said Teal. “I guess…step one should be taking down those altars? They’re feeding power into the sigils. From there… I dunno. Breaking them seems like a bad idea.”

“It is,” Trissiny agreed. “Gabe, Toby… Do either of you happen to know the ritual of deconsecration?”

“Wait, you can de a consecration?” Gabriel exclaimed. “Man…I am so far behind.”

“Not in this case,” said Toby, frowning. “I’ve never even heard of that.”

“I hadn’t either,” Trissiny murmured. “It wasn’t part of my education. After that demonblood shopkeeper in Tiraas gave me an earful last winter, I looked it up. I know the ritual to purge a blessing from an Avenist sigil. But if you don’t…”

“Merely deconsecrating the golden eagles in this room is unlikely to make a substantial difference, even considering Avei’s primacy of place within the Pantheon,” said Shaeine. “Even if Toby and Gabriel can do the same with their own sigils. That would leave most still active.”

“It’s a universal ritual,” said Trissiny. “Should work on anything. But…”

“Uh, yeah,” Toby said worriedly. “I don’t know what would happen if three paladins scrubbed the blessings off a bunch of sigils of every god, but I doubt it would be much better than just breaking all these.”

“Azh’khthash mavhtchaar!” the demon said impatiently.

“Oh, keep your pants on, we’re working on it,” Gabriel retorted.

“She’s not wearin’ pants,” Ruda said helpfully.

“Look,” he snapped, rounding on her, “if you want actually do something useful, what about that sword of yours? Mithril blocks magic—it could neutralize the sigils.”

“You want me to go through this room individually poking every one of these goddamn things?” she said dryly. “That’s great, Arquin. Sure, why not. I didn’t have anything else planned for this fucking year.”

“It probably wouldn’t take more than a few hours,” said Teal, rubbing her chin. “And…well, our other option is to carefully and respectfully move each of these out of the room.”

Trissiny shook her head. “I have to say this is a dilemma I never expected to face.”

“Okay, hang on,” said Gabriel, closing his eyes.

“Uh, hey,” Ruda said, “can you nap on your own—”

“Ruda, be silent,” Shaeine said flatly. Ruda blinked and turned to her in surprise. “He’s reaching out to his deity. At this point, we should welcome any option.”

“Right,” Gabriel said, heaving a sigh and opening his eyes. “Okay. Got a solution. I can shadow-jump her out of the cage and into the hall. It was safe for Vadrieny outside the room, so she should be fine.”

The others stared at him, Trissiny and Shaeine having to crane around their classmates to see.

“You can shadow-jump?” Trissiny finally demanded. “Since when?”

“Gabe,” Toby said, frowning, “you haven’t been studying infernal magic, have you?”

“Little known fact,” said Gabriel, “but shadow-jumping isn’t actually infernal magic. It’s a kind of shadow magic, which can in theory be done by any of the four schools, but the infernal is easiest. Anyway, no, I can’t just do it at will. But it’s something Vidius does upon request for his most…uh, senior priests. If he considers the reason worthwhile.”

“And he considers this worthwhile?” Trissiny frowned, turning back to peer at the caged demon. “I have to say I’m…surprised.”

“Hey, if you want to know why a god does something, I can’t help you,” Gabriel said wryly. “He did say last spring that he was interested in seeing if demons are worth more than just target practice. And, I mean, he’s no Avei, but the guy has a basic sense of fairness. This shit right here would be unacceptable even if she was an aggressor. Considering she was basically kidnapped…”

“All right,” said Teal, “I’d better try to explain it to her. Excuse me…”

She very carefully edged past Toby and Trissiny to the front, approaching the cage. The demon watched her flatly. That close, the contrast with Teal made it obvious what a physically powerful specimen the prisoner was—she towered head and shoulders above the bard, and was far more muscular of build than any woman any of them had seen before. Aside from the spiked iron bracers, her only garment was a leather wrap that encased her from just below her arms to just above her knees—it left a lot of her skin on display, and every inch of that was laid over bulging muscle.

“Hhthrazhkin duon,” Teal said carefully. “Vreskin hrazth ag szhagsnad.”

The demon, incongruously, grinned widely and snickered. Teal sighed heavily, running a hand over her face.

“Are you telling her jokes?” Ruda demanded.

“No,” Teal said in irritation. “It’s just… Vadrieny’s feeding me the words, but they’re hard to form. My pronunciation…isn’t great. If I could just let her out to do this it’d be a lot easier, but last time the sigils…”

“You’re lucky you have that Talisman of Absolution,” said Toby. “Or you both could have been seriously harmed.”

“Yeah,” Teal agreed, turning back to the demon. “Talk amongst yourselves, I’m gonna try to explain things. It could take a bit to get it right.”

“I’m not surprised,” Ruda said in a quieter tone as Teal carried on rasping at the demon. “That whole fucking language sounds like a cat horking something up.”

“I’ve always wondered about that,” Gabriel murmured. “It seems weird. Most demons have the same basic kind of vocal apparatus we do, right? I mean, the sentient ones.”

“They do,” said Trissiny, “and it’s neither weird nor a coincidence. Demonic is a constructed language; it was designed by Scyllith. The goddess of cruelty.”

“It’s not just the pronunciation,” Shaeine added. “The Scyllithene dialect of elvish is influenced by demonic. The accent is only subtly different, but grammar and word order is all turned around, and not in a pattern that seems consistent. Admittedly, though, our exchanges with our Scyllithene cousins are rarely verbal.”

They all turned to watch for a moment as Teal fell silent and the demon began speaking; her voice was deep and made the guttural tongue seem to fill the room. Several of the sigils rattled very softly against each other.

“So, about shadow-jumping,” Toby said quietly. “Care to go into a little more detail on that, Gabe?”

“All right, well…” Gabriel scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I know you guys have only taken Yornhaldt’s basic classes, but in the actual arcane degree program….uh. Let me think how to put it. Fross is better at explaining these things…”

“Allow me?” Ariel suggested. “Shadow magic refers to any classification of spell that does not belong to one of the four schools on the Circle of Interaction. There are few such, but they do exist—for example, the source of vampires. Shadow-jumping is one such type of spell. Its magic cannot be accessed directly by our methods, and requires an intermediary use of Circle-compliant magic. Doubtless it was easier to access before the Elder War, but many of the rules were changed with the fall of the Elder Gods and the creation of the divine and arcane energy fields.

“In essence, it is an issue of power. Infernal magic has a naturally corrosive effect on physical reality, and so when manipulated in the right way is useful for boring a hole between two places, which is the essence of what shadow-jumping is, and activates the effect. With the other three schools, there is just not enough energy. An arcanist can simply teleport far more cheaply; a cleric could not handle the requisite amount of divine power without being incinerated by it. And by the time a witch gathered up enough totems of power and fairy allies to perform such a feat, she could have just walked there. Thus, shadow-jumping is commonly only done by diabolists. The only exception is when a deity intervenes to do it for a follower, as is apparently the case with Vidius and his senior priests and now Hand. I didn’t know that either,” she added somewhat petulantly.

“You’re a pretty good lecturer, Ariel,” Toby said, grinning. “You could almost teach a class yourself.”

“I have often thought so. Not that Professor Ekoi sets the bar very high.”

“Hey, I like Ekoi,” Gabriel protested. “I mean, when she’s not sticking her claws in me. She’s funny. Sly, I mean, not goofy like Rafe.”

“Okay,” Teal called. “I think we’ve reached an understanding here. Gabriel, you need to touch her, right?”

“Right.”

“She’ll allow it, as long as you’re respectful.”

“Dear gods in the sky,” he said, wide-eyed, “I just need a grip on her arm. I’m not gonna grope her.”

“I understand that, Gabe,” the bard said patiently, “but you need to consider where she’s been and what Leduc’s been trying to get her to do. Her tolerance is understandably low.”

“Ah… Yeah, point taken.”

He carefully eased past the others to join Teal at the bars.

“Schkhurrankh, vzash’ke Gabriel,” Teal said. “Gabriel, meet Schkhurrankh. Don’t try to say it; I’m having a hard enough time, and the slightest mispronunciation of someone’s name is basically demanding a duel in her culture.”

“How the hell are they not all dead?” he marveled. “Uh, hi there…ma’am. Nice to meet you. I’m Gabe; I’m a friend, promise.” He gingerly slipped one hand through the bars, holding it up toward her face. Schkhurrankh peered at it, then tilted her head, frowning down at him.

“Gabriel, she is hardly going to sniff your fingers,” said Ariel, “and I dearly hope she doesn’t understand the implication.”

“Uh, right!” he said, quickly lowering his arm and gesturing toward one of hers.

“Let’s be moving back toward the hall,” suggested Trissiny. “Leave them space to arrive, but…”

“But it’s best if we’re around when she’s out of that cage,” Teal agreed. “I think it’s best if Vadrieny’s there, in fact.”

As they filed out the door, the demon finally took Gabriel’s arm, wrapping her enormous clawed fingers around his wrist and leaving him to do the same with hers.

“Vladskhaar n’zud, tzukhlunth,” she warned.

“Somehow, I don’t even need that translated,” he said. “All right, hold on to your… Uh, you know what, never mind. Here we go.”

In that brightly-lit room, the swelling up of shadows around the cage was so visually wrong it was disconcerting; the simultaneous deepening of the darkness in the already-dim hall outside seemed much more appropriate. Gabriel and Schkhurrankh re-materialized in the center of the hall, just as Trissiny stepped out of the prison room, the last to arrive. In the next moment, Vadrieny emerged from within Teal, adding her orange glow to the dimness.

Schkhurrankh drew in a deep breath, her powerful chest swelling, then let it out as a deafening roar, whirled and began slamming her fists into the stone wall. Craters formed immediately; dust shook from the ceiling and more and more fragments of stone were sent flying, prompting Shaeine to shield herself and Ruda behind silver spheres. Toby held up a hand to protect his eyes; Trissiny was armored and Gabriel durable, and added no magical effects. All three paladins were reluctant to flash any divine magic at the towering demon. She was grinning in exultation as she systematically pummeled the stonework, as if punishing the manor itself for daring to have imprisoned her.

“Um,” said Toby, “not that she doesn’t have every right to be pent-up, but I have no idea whether this is a load-bearing wall…”

“Ashask zsakhar!” Vadrieny snapped, and Schkhurrankh immediately stopped, turning and bowing low to the archdemon.

“Well, then!” Gabriel said, wiping his palms against his coat. “I guess that’s the hard part taken care of.”

“Think so, do you?” asked Ariel.


 

Leduc’s apartment was still unoccupied. They finally found their reluctant host and the fairies all the way out in the collapsing entrance hall, where Fross was slowly drifting around the ceiling, laying patches of ice here and there for some reason. Juniper and Sherwin were seated side by side on the bottom of the once-grand staircase. Strangely, he was slumped forward with his face in his hands, and she had an arm draped around his shoulders.

Before anyone could even ask, Schkhurrankh let out a furious roar and charged at them.

Vadrieny lunged, but was a hair too slow. Juniper, however, managed to stand and place herself in front of Leduc; she caught the charging demon with one outstretched hand and very calmly threw her back.

Schkhurrankh went flying across the room, slamming against a the far wall. Beside her, the boards that had been covering the window collapsed, along with a good chunk of the stone wall itself. The demon sat there, blinking in astonishment.

“Oh,” Juniper said, wincing, “oops. She’s not as heavy as she looks. Is she okay? I really didn’t mean to hurt—”

The demon brayed again in wordless outrage, bounding to her clawed feet and beginning to lunge forward again.

This time, Vadrieny got there first, seizing Schkhurranh by the throat and whirling her around the slam her back against the wall. An entire segment of it collapsed, showering both demons with falling masonry; the whole building groaned in protest, part of the roof caving dangerously toward the new depression.

Sherwin and the students, with a chorus of yells, skittered away to the opposite side of the room, with the exception of Fross, who dived at the collapsing section, spraying out water that instantly froze. In seconds, she had propped up the falling masonry with ice, temporarily halting the collapse. It was hardly a permanent solution, however; aside from the fact that it wouldn’t last long, the ice added more weight to the already beleaguered masonry.

The two demons paid this no mind, any more than they did to the stone and rotted timber that had smashed down on top of them; both were yelling at each other in demonic. It was a peculiar sight; despite Vadrieny’s impressive mane and wings of fire, she was physically a good bit smaller than Schkhurrankh. Despite this, she held the bigger demon in place without apparent effort. In fact, the Rhaazke didn’t seem to dare struggle against her, contenting herself with words.

“I…I should go apologize to her,” Leduc said miserably, wringing his hands.

“That would be an incredibly bad idea,” Toby said firmly.

“That appears to be the only kind he has,” Ariel commented.

“Now you want to apologize?” Trissiny demanded, rounding on Leduc. He flinched back from her, hunching in on himself and dropping his gaze.

“We’ve been having a talk,” Juniper explained. “I think I made him understand why what he did was wrong. Sherwin isn’t malicious; he’s just naïve, entitled, repressed and was in denial about all the rest of it. We worked through that and made a real breakthrough!”

“That,” Shaeine said carefully, “is so impressive as to defy believability. Mental healers work with patients for years to make that kind of progress, Juniper. He is quite possibly scamming you.”

“Nah, he’s not quick-witted enough to do that.”

“Hey!” Leduc protested weakly.

“Well, you’re not,” the dryad said reasonably. “Remember what we discussed about acknowledging your faults? Anyhow, Shaeine, most mental healers can’t tell every detail about a person’s sexual identity and desires by their scent. Since this whole messy business is bound up in his sexuality, that pretty much told me everything. Also, most mental healers don’t physically restrain their patients from leaving until they listen. Even so, the poor guy really does mean well, he just—”

“The poor guy?!” Trissiny shouted, practically spitting with rage. Leduc gulped loudly and edged behind Juniper.

“Yeah, the poor guy,” the dryad said firmly, meeting Trissiny’s gaze unflinchingly. “He should be held responsible for this, Trissiny, I am not arguing that. But come on… I refuse to believe that mentally healthy people do things like this to each other. At the root of all evil is pain, or ignorance. Acknowledging that doesn’t mean we don’t see justice done.”

“W-wait,” Lord Leduc said tremulously. “I-I thought…”

“Sherwin,” Juniper said in exasperation, “you kidnapped somebody, imprisoned and tortured her, and were going to rape her eventually. Now, I’ve got more empathy than most for somebody who did something that awful out of ignorance, but come on. There have gotta be consequences. You may not believe it now, but I promise you need to face them if you’re ever gonna straighten yourself out. I’ve been there.”

Leduc let out a soft squeak and seemed to wilt in on himself even further.

Across the room, Schkhurrankh’s tone had become pleading rather than enraged. Vadrieny was no longer gripping her by the throat, but had her clawed hands on each of the larger demon’s shoulders, and seemed more to be holding her up than holding her back.

“Excuse me,” said Ariel, “but why are we restraining her? Letting the sexually deviant warlock be killed by the demon he abused seems both efficient and equitable. Poetic, even.”

“That is not what we do,” Shaeine said firmly. “We will have justice, not more senseless violence.”

“Not all violence is necessarily senseless,” Trissiny said darkly, “but you’re right. Justice is all the more important when it is tempting to just dispatch the criminal.” She glared at Leduc, who had peeked around from behind Juniper at her. He squeaked again and ducked back into hiding.

“Excuse me, I hate to rush what’s obviously an important moment,” Fross chimed from above, “but you two are standing right under the part of the room that’s gonna collapse and this really is not going to hold it up much longer. Do I need to build a bigger ice brace, here, or can we move all this outside?”

Vadrieny looked up at her, then back at Schkhurrankh, and said quietly, “Thatznha. Shlvakhshka rhe. Zhtzi?”

The Rhaazke drew in a deep breath, bared her fangs for a moment, but then nodded. “Tzkhorsa lkhai.”

“I believe we are done,” Vadrieny said, finally releasing Schkhurrankh and stepping back. “Let’s get out of here before it all comes down.”

“That language is really interesting,” Fross said brightly, descending toward them. “That whole time I don’t think I actually heard you repeat a syllable. It doesn’t actually have grammar, does it? Kinda like the gnomish Patter, but with—”

“Fross!” Ruda exclaimed.

“Oh. Right. Escaping, yes, got it.”

They made their slow and wary way toward the broken door, keeping a careful eye not only on the damaged roof and rotten floor, but also on Schkhurrankh and Leduc, who had locked eyes from across the room. After a moment, he mumbled something, turned and scurried off into the darkness down another side hall. The demon snorted loudly and stalked the rest of the way to the door, not minding how the wood crunched under her talons. The rest of them followed much more carefully, but also quickly.

Outside, they regrouped in the courtyard, and apparently not a moment too soon. Behind them, half of the entry hall collapsed, the tinkle of shattering ice added to the roar of broken stone and fallen beams. It went on for long moments before stilling.

“D’you think he’s okay?” Juniper asked, frowning.

“That fucker has never been okay in his life,” Ruda snorted.

“Whether he is or not, this isn’t over,” Trissiny said firmly. “He has yet to face any meaningful consequences for what he did.”

“You mean, apart from collapsing half his house?”

“Ruda,” she said impatiently, “if he cared about that, the house wouldn’t have been in this state to begin with.”

“Also, it wasn’t half the house,” Fross added. “Pretty much just the front room. Still looks solid behind that.”

Schkhurrankh growled loudly and punched the crumbling remains of a gargoyle perched beside the manor’s front steps. It dissolved into a spray of gravel.

“Brilliant,” said Ariel. “Look what we get to babysit now. I hope everyone is pleased.”

“Shut up, Ariel,” Trissiny said wearily. “The problem now is getting her back to Dufresne Manor. Obviously, taking her through Veilgrad is not even a prospect. Gabriel…?”

“No dice, I already asked,” he said shaking his head. “Getting the imprisoned victim out of the cage was apparently worth divine intervention; facilitating convenient travel, not so much.”

“Deities generally prefer not to be called upon lightly,” Shaiene noted.

“Also,” said Ruda, “we came right here from Veilgrad, which means Malivette has no idea we’re bringing her another houseguest from an unreachable sub-Hell who doesn’t speak a word of Tanglish. So, that’s gonna be an interesting conversation.”

“So much for the hard part being over,” Toby said wryly, looking at Gabriel.

Gabe sighed heavily. “Come on, guys. What is it gonna take for you to stop listening when I talk?”

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“And this person was unfamiliar to you?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Principia said crisply. “I keep aware of the Guild’s leadership but I’ve always been somewhat standoffish. I’m afraid I’m not close enough to any other members to comment reliably on a person’s standing.”

“There must be hundreds of Sifanese in the capital alone,” Bishop Shahai said thoughtfully, her eyes on Commander Rouvad. “They are one of the Empire’s closest allies. I don’t know how common a name Saduko might be. A surname would be helpful, of course…”

“Which is doubtless why one wasn’t offered,” the Commander said dryly, glancing up and down the hall. They were having this discussion right outside her office, where Principia had waited for the two of them to emerge and given her report on the confrontation on the parade grounds. It was hardly private, but the subject matter wasn’t secret, either. “What of her…other name? Perhaps the Guild can tell us why this Gimmick would be working for dragons.”

“As Sergeant Locke pointed out,” said Shahai, “she is not working with the Guild on this matter, or she would not have come here and threatened Locke’s neutrality. I can make inquiries with them.”

Principia cleared her throat.

“You have something to contribute, Sergeant?” Commander Rouvad asked, raising an eyebrow.

“With the greatest respect, ma’am, I would advise that the High Commander do that,” Principia said, standing subtly more rigidly at attention.

“Oh?” Shahai said mildly.

“They will respect an open approach, and will not challenge the leader of a major cult directly. Your Grace…you are very smart. Being smart with the Guild isn’t a good approach. If they think you’re playing games with them…well, the games will begin.”

“The Bishop hardly indulges in scheming for scheming’s sake,” Rouvad said pointedly, “unlike some individuals we all know. This isn’t yet important enough I want to make it an official cult-to-cult affair; the existing interfaith infrastructure of the Church will suffice. Speak with your fellow Bishop, Nandi; Mr. Darling has struck me as a man who loves doing favors and forming connections. Locke, you’re certain Gimmick is the correct tag? Could it be a false one?”

“Tags are a sacrament, ma’am. Eserites don’t falsify them.”

The Commander raised an eyebrow. “What, never?”

“Not twice,” Principia said, pursing her lips. Shahai smiled in amusement.

“That leaves the question of this dragon, Zanzayed,” the Commander said, her dark eyes boring into Principia’s. “I realize you are jealous of your privacy, Locke, but this is not the time to be cagey. You are certain you know no more of him than you’ve told us?”

“I know of him, ma’am,” Principia replied. “In honesty, probably less than Bishop Shahai does. She, at least, has researched the Conclave delegates. Anyone who lives long enough and is active in the world learns the names of the active dragons; Zanzayed is the one they respect and fear the least. Beyond that, I have no idea. I am frankly a little alarmed that he’s interested in me. The feeling is not mutual.”

“According to your report,” said Rouvad, turning back to Shahai, “he called it a family concern.”

“I’m afraid that narrows it down very little,” the Bishop said, shaking her head. “Locke’s bloodline… How would you put it, Locke?”

“Half of them are loner tauhanwe and the other half are the most deliberately boring, traditional elves they can be, to dissociate themselves from the first half,” Principia reported. “Neither will have anything to say to emissaries from a human faith, if you can even find any. If you want to know what interactions Zanzayed has had with the Crowbloods, ma’am, it’s probably best to ask him.”

“Interesting,” Rouvad mused. “And is Crowblood your actual surname?”

“We don’t have surnames in the sense you do, Commander, unless they’re earned.” She glanced momentarily at the Bishop without turning her head. “It’s just something my bloodline tends to be called, owing to its oldest member.”

Commander Rouvad heaved a sigh and turned back to Shahai. “All right, Nandi, this is pertinent to your assignment. Do you need anything requisitioned to proceed?”

“I believe what I already have will suffice admirably, Farzida,” the Bishop replied. “If the sergeant and I are dismissed?”

“Of course. I leave this in your skilled hands.”

Shahai bowed to the Commander, Principia saluting behind her, then turned and glided off down the hall. “Come, Locke. Let’s go waste some time.”

“I knew there was a reason I liked you,” Principia said, following.

Commander Rouvad stood, frowning after them in silence for a long moment, before turning and departing in the other direction.


 

“Partial success,” Ruda announced, plunking herself down in a chair. She fished a bottle of ale out of her coat with one hand and snagged one of Juniper’s cookies with the other. “The Huntsmen definitely know something about the werewolves.”

“They told you so?” Toby said, frowning. “What did they say?”

“It’s not what they said, but what they didn’t,” said Gabriel. “And how they didn’t say it. They really did not like us asking about the werewolves; the whole lodge went dead silent, and suddenly everyone was a lot less friendly.”

“They were friendly?” Trissiny said, raising her eyebrows.

“Actually, yeah, they seemed like a pretty laid-back bunch before that point,” Ruda mused, leaning backward and tilting her chair up on two legs. “Good hosts, glad to have company.”

“Ruda got flirted with,” Gabriel reported with a grin. “A lot.”

“And why not? I am the fucking personification of brains, beauty and brawn.”

“Back on the subject,” Trissiny said with some exasperation, “what exactly did you learn? About werewolves or anything else?”

“Not a lot that was specific, or useful,” Gabriel said ruminatively. Suddenly he glanced around. “Uh, before we get into details, should we maybe wait for Teal and Shaeine to get back?”

“We can go over it again,” Ruda said dismissively. “Hell, there really aren’t details. You’ve already heard the whole damn thing, guys. We talked to the Huntsmen, they were nice—they’ve got a nice pad, by the way, I like their notion of decor—and everything was fine until Arquin happened to ask if having werewolves around interfered with the hunting. Then bam, serious faces, and nobody would talk about it. The lodge master finally said the subject was not fit to be discussed.” She shrugged and took a gulp of ale. “That’s it. It’s a start, but not much of one.”

“In a way,” Juniper mused, “it makes some sense. Wolves are sacred to Shaathists, right? And so is manhood. A werewolf is, like…both.”

“Any insights on this, Trissiny?” Toby asked. “You at least got some training on the other cults. The monks didn’t really give me any, and the Church was more interested in teaching me about demons and warlocks.”

“The training I got was mostly in threat assessment and how to deal with doctrinal conflicts,” Trissiny said, frowning. “I could explain in detail exactly how Shaathist dogma is aberrantly misogynistic, and how to handle being in a fight with a Huntsman, but as for exactly what they believe and why, or how they worship…” She shrugged.

“You Avenists sure are clear about your priorities,” Ruda commented.

“Yes, I would say that’s true,” Trissiny said flatly.

“Oh! It’s them!” Fross chimed, shooting straight upward and then darting out over the balcony to stare down into the market square below. In the daylight, she was hard to spot against the sky. “And…uh oh, I think something’s wrong with Teal.”

“Freeze!” Ruda snapped as all of them twitched toward the bannister. “Damn it, you numbnuts, we’ve got eyes on us. Basically all of them. Don’t act alarmed about something and definitely don’t direct attention to Teal and Shaeine. Fross,” she added while they settled reluctantly back into their seats, “what does it look like? Is she hurt?”

“Not to bad, I don’t think,” Fross reported. “She looks…tired. She’s kinda leaning on Shaeine.”

“What could make Teal…” Trissiny trailed off, glancing back into the crowded pub behind them. The townsfolk were still trying to be relatively discreet, but it was hardly a secret that their table was the center of attention.

“We’ll know momentarily,” Toby said quietly. “Sounds like it’s not urgent; Ruda’s right. Let’s not court attention that may lead to trouble later.”

“Any more than you can help by nature, that is?”

“On the fuckin’ subject of not drawing attention,” Ruda said in exasperation, “maybe it’d be best if any fucking inanimate objects at the table refrained from talking?”

“Nobody’s close enough to tell,” Gabriel said quietly, stroking Ariel’s hilt. “Still, though, she’s got a good point. Best to be discreet, partner. I’m not sure I wanna know what the locals would think about you.”

“You never take me anywhere nice.”

He rolled his eyes; Ruda snorted back a laugh.

“And for the record, ‘fucking’ is not punctuation, your Highness.”

“Fuckin’ is if you fuckin’ use it right. Fucker.”

“Come on, Ariel, you were asking for that,” Juniper said. The sword made no further comment.

It took a rather tense few minutes for Teal and Shaeine to navigate through the building to the upper-level pub, and cross the space toward their classmates. Up closer, Teal looked strained and tired, though she was walking under her own power now. Shaeine was even more inscrutable than usual, being fully hidden beneath her hood and gloves. A mysteriously cowled figure naturally drew attention, but the group had unanimously agreed it would be less attention and of a more harmless variety than the sight of a drow. All three Underworld entrances were on the other side of the Golden Sea from here; to the Stalweiss, dark elves were monsters out of legend.

“Hey, glad you two made it back all right,” Gabriel said, standing and solicitously pulling out a chair for Teal. “Have a seat, you look bushed. You okay?”

“Thanks, Gabe, but later,” Teal said tersely, glancing around. “Guys… Can we leave, please?”

“What’s wrong?” Trissiny asked, instinctively grasping the hilt of her sword.

“We need to go somewhere private and talk,” Teal said. “We have a big problem.”


 

“Forgive me if this is none of my business, your Grace, but who’s funding all this?” Principia asked, setting down her teacup. “I understand the basics of what you’re doing, but it seems somewhat…tenuous…to the military mind. How’d you convince a Legion quartermaster to let you go shopping on Avei’s purse?”

“Oh, no, neither the Legions nor the Sisterhood have paid for any of this,” Shahai said with a light laugh. “Not today’s excursions, nor our previous—and rather more expensive—shopping trips. It all comes out of my own pocket. It won’t be wasted,” she added more pensively, “eventually I’ll find places to donate everything. For now, though, the potential dragon bribes need to remain in my possession; I doubt I can get rid of that much wealth without drawing attention, and I want our targets to think I’m planning to shmooze them a bit later. And, subsequently, to grow increasingly curious when I do not.”

“Those are major expenses to come out of your own pocket, your Grace,” Principia said carefully.

“I can afford it,” the Bishop replied mildly. “As can you. For, more or less, the same reason. My rent is paid by the Church; the Sisterhood provides me meals and any necessary medical care. I prefer a simple existence, and hoard only a few possessions for their sentimental value. As it is not politically prudent to refuse my rather exorbitant salary, it just…builds up. Frankly I find it a relief to be able to unload it now and again. Projects like this are the reason I don’t simply donate everything to the Omnist food pantries.”

“Ah,” Principia said, nodding sagely and gazing out over the old spice market. “And thus do we establish a point of commonality and encourage me to open up a bit about my own mysterious history.”

“Your history is less mysterious than you may be aware,” Shahai said calmly. “And I do know that one of the most effective ways to disarm conversational manipulation is to point it out. I am glad, Principia, that you are growing more comfortable with me. It’s my hope that soon we will be able to dispense with this fencing entirely. I don’t begrudge you your caution, however.”

A silence fell, in which both elves contemplated their tea and the view. They were sitting on a balcony patio on the highest level of the old spice market, at a much more expensive and less discreet restaurant than that at which Principia’s squad had met Bishop Darling a few weeks prior. It did offer dampening charms and scry blockers to keep conversations private—almost all the shops in the market’s upper levels did—but this one, in fact, was chosen specifically for its high prices and outdoor seating. It was popular among people who had too much money and desired to be seen proving it. Principia would never have been caught dead in the place, were she not under orders.

Principia had a bag of spices on the table before her, their final purchase of the afternoon and the alleged purpose of their visit to the spice market. Their purchases from two (needlessly expensive) specialty butcher shops had been wrapped and delivered, as it wasn’t wise to carry meat around on a leisurely sojourn through the city. The whole trip had begun with a visit to a pricey restaurant, where Bishop Shahai had asked the chef to come out for a word, requested a recipe for bacon-wrapped shrimp, and had Principia write it down.

Now, they sat sipping tea and being seen. They had been there a good half hour already, and the Bishop showed no signs of wanting to leave. Principia knew better than to prompt her. Besides, there were other things about which she was more curious.

“Comfortable,” she said quietly. “You know, I think if I were comfortable, I’d go completely insane.”

Shahai cracked a grin at that, a broad expression of true amusement. “Well…perhaps not. You seem to be coping well with the routine and discipline of the military.”

“At least that keeps me engaged.”

“It can. You have the advantage of good leadership. Not every captain is Shahdi Dijanerad, however, and in terms of keeping things interesting, contending with a powerful enemy can be a great boon. Give it time, Locke, and not much of that. You will come to know what true drudgery is.”

“Fantastic,” she said fatalistically. “Well. Since we’re suspending the bullroar by unspoken agreement, we both know what I’m doing here. How did you cope with the…drudgery?”

Shahai sipped her tea, gazing out over the busy market. “I joined the Legions because my mate was an Avenist. One of the last Silver Huntresses.”

Principia’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh… You’ve been here a while, then.”

“Indeed.”

“Forgive me, but… You hold the Legion rank of Captain, correct? That seems…”

“Paltry, for one who has served more than three centuries?” Shahai gave her an amused sidelong smile. “There are loopholes to be exploited in regulations that were not conceived with elves in mind. For instance, if you meet the physical requirements, there is nothing barring you from re-enlisting anew after retirement. I have cycled through the ranks three times, and taken time for myself between careers. And, of course, one can refuse promotions of a certain level; Avei does not want ranking servants who don’t desire to be there. Ultimately, though…I always come back.”

“Why?” Principia asked quietly.

Shahai continued gazing into space. “When Dizhara died… Have you ever lost someone, Principia?”

She averted her own gaze. “Y—no. I dunno. I gave someone up, once. Never have fully sorted out how I feel about that. I actually thought of going to an Izarite temple for help, if you can believe it.”

“I would strongly recommend it, if you have the desire, and the uncertainty. The disciples of Izara, like all true faithful, are good at what their goddess commands. It was explained to me the best by a shaman, though, not any priest. Healing, he told me, is about growth. It only seems like the restoration of something old; it is in truth the creation of something new in the place and the shape of something previous. Our kind are slow to heal, physically and mentally, because we are slow to grow. Because we do not live as quickly or as fervently as the mortal races, because it is our natural tendency to seek equilibrium with our environment. How do sentient beings act, on average, as overall societies? Humans adapt and conquer. Gnomes explore and seek challenge. Demons destroy. Dwarves study and create. Elves…find balance.”

She smiled faintly, pausing to take a sip of tea. “The loss of a loved one creates a hole in your being, an absence where that person is meant to exist. It’s a huge part of you, simply no longer there. You can no more function in that state than after the loss of a leg or a lung, not until you’ve had time to heal. And healing means building up more of yourself, living your life, gaining new complexity and adding new substance to your being. That hole never goes away, but as you develop, as you grow, you gradually close it over with new parts of yourself, until eventually it is only a space, and no longer a wound.” Her smile grew slightly. “And military training…”

“My DS went on and on about that in basic,” Principia said quietly. “It was one of her favorite themes. The point of training, of becoming a soldier, is to break you down…”

Shahai nodded. “…and build you back up. When I lost my partner… In the many years since, I have continued to serve because Avei, her Sisters and her Legions have more than earned my loyalty, because my life here is one of purpose in which I find great fulfillment. But I joined, initially, to become a soldier. Because I would have become anything if it meant no longer being a broken shell.”

The silence that followed was oddly calm, considering the subject matter. Shahai lifted her eyes to gaze idly at the clouded sky; Principia was frowning in thought, her stare intent but unfocused.

“Well,” Shahai said abruptly, setting down her cup, “that should be enough time. Off we go! And walk slowly, Sergeant, I wish not to dissuade anyone attempting to intercept us.”

“I see,” Principia said, rising and picking up the package of spices. “You believe Zanzayed wants something urgently enough to have me—or possibly you—followed and accosted in public?”

“I believe nothing,” Shahai replied, walking serenely toward the front of the tea room. “It is a critical error to form theories in the absence of facts. I am, however, interested to learn whether he wants something that badly. It will not reveal everything, of course, but will narrow down the possibilities, in one direction or the other. Come along.”

It was a peaceful and quiet trip through the tea room and the upper levels of the ancient fortress, of course. These were the halls haunted by the rich, the powerful, and others who were careful of their privacy. Even had the peace not been enforced, by soldiers both Imperial and Avenist, to say nothing of private security personnel, hardly anyone was reckless enough to get on the bad side of a whole swath of the city’s elite by being disruptive in their favorite haunts.

“I almost don’t know which to hope for,” Principia murmured as they descended a staircase to a wide path along a lower level. “On the one hand, if this is urgent to Zanzayed it’ll be over with faster…”

“Knowing either way enables us to end it faster on our own terms,” Shahai replied in total calm. “I understand your uncertainty, however. The manner in which this plays out may determine—”

“Your pardon, Ms. Locke?”

Both elves halted, and turned in slow unison. A portly middle-aged man stood behind them—not the same one they had seen petitioning at the Conclave’s residence, but clearly one of his ilk. Well-bred, well-heeled and well-mannered, the sort of professional toady who made excellent foot soldiers in the social wars between the upper aristocracy. He clutched his hat diffidently in front of himself, not quite concealing the loud badge pinned to his lapel: a familiar multicolored hexagon overlaid with a vaguely wing-like sigil.

“I do most humbly apologize for this interruption, ladies,” he said, bowing. “If I could beg a moment of your time on behalf of my employer, Ms. Locke?”

The two elves exchanged a look, and the Bishop permitted herself a thin, satisfied smile.

Principia cleared her throat pointedly. “That’s Sergeant Locke, thank you.”


 

“Okay,” Ruda said in the queasy silence that ensued after Shaeine finished speaking. “That is fucked up in multiple directions, and I think we can all agree that Sherwin Leduc needs his ass kicked in the worst way. But I got the impression, Teal, that there was something more urgent than this going on. Not that we can’t spare the time to go deal with it, but it doesn’t seem like a crisis.”

Teal nodded, her expression unhappy. “I’m going to let Vadrieny explain; it’s easier than me translating.” So saying, she took a half-step away from the group and in the next moment, the orange glow of hellfire was added to Fross’s silvery illumination.

The basement in which they met had a single fairy lamp, kept dim more to avoid attention than to conserve energy. The warehouse above was busily in use, which provided excellent cover for its true purpose: below was a space which had a discreet exit into a back alley at one end, and the hidden opening to a tunnel leading to one of the cellars of Dufresne Manor. It was a long tunnel and a dark one, and not their preferred method of getting to and from the city, but it did afford them a way to do so without attracting the attention that Malivette’s ostentatious carriages inevitably did.

“The demon in the cage,” Vadrieny said grimly, “is called a Rhaazke.”

“I’m not familiar with that species,” Trissiny said, frowning. “Do they resemble Vanislaads?”

“About seven feet tall,” Vadrieny said, “very muscular, mottled skin. Slitted eyes. Claws, horns, feet like mine…no wings, but they do have spaded tails. Physically quite powerful, and gifted magically. I’m not surprised you haven’t heard of them, Trissiny; I don’t know much surface-level demonology, but it would be very hard for one to get to the mortal plane ordinarily.”

“That sounds kind of…nothing like a succubus, doesn’t it?” Juniper said. “So why’s Lord Leduc think she is one?”

“Lord Leduc,” said Shaeine, “is obsessive, emotionally stunted and deprived of social interaction, to say nothing of whatever psychological damage was inflicted by his family. Keep in mind that whatever they did was enough to get them arrested by the Empire—and this in a province in which they are such an established power that rival Houses are reluctant to move against one young man living alone in a crumbling manor. In short, he is exceedingly lucky not to have summoned an actual succubus. By this point he would be her willing slave.”

“What do you know about hellhounds?” Vadrieny asked.

“True hellhounds, or khankredahgs?” Trissiny countered.

“The first group. Like the ones Melaxyna had.”

“They are impossibly rare,” Trissiny said slowly, “because it is not possible to summon them from the mortal plane. They’re native to a… Well, it’s a dimension accessible from Hell but not from here. You have to go into Hell and open a portal from there to reach them.”

“Seems like a lot of effort for an exotic pet,” Gabriel commented.

“Hellhound breath is fantastically useful!” Fross chimed. “It counters any kind of magical sleep—any sleep at all, in fact! It’s such a potent awakener that it’s used in necromancy.”

“Which doesn’t explain the relevance of this tangent,” Trissiny said pointedly.

“Rhaazke,” said Vadrieny, “are the dominant species in the dimension from which hellhounds come.”

A momentary silence fell.

“Then,” Toby said slowly, “how did Lord Leduc summon one?”

“That is the reason I…overreacted,” Vadrieny said, looking slightly abashed. It was a most peculiar expression on her ferocious features. “Such a thing is profoundly impossible; it violates every law of… Well, suffice it to say, it can’t be done, and if it’s been done, something is terrifyingly wrong. I… Didn’t know I knew that. The information was just there when I saw her. Ordinarily I have more restraint, but the shock…”

“I see,” Trissiny said, staring intently at her. “Can we expect similar to happen if you are exposed to more demonic stimuli?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Vadrieny said tersely.

“That sounds like an important development,” said Gabriel, frowning deeply, “but one we can worry about at a later date. Fross…are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“I believe so!” the pixie chimed. “But even if we could afford a telescope that size, where would we put it?”

Everyone stared at her.

After a moment she dropped lower in the air, her glow dimming noticeably. “That’s…a joke. I was joking.”

“It’s all in the timing, glitterbug,” Ruda said, not without sympathy.

Gabriel cleared his throat. “Yes, well, anyway. I’ve just had a horrible thought. We were told there are chaos-worshipping cults that keep popping up in this town, right?”

“What of it?” Juniper asked.

“Oh, no,” Trissiny whispered, her eyes widening.

Gabriel nodded. “Chaos… Trissiny, how hard is the spell to summon a succubus?”

“You’re asking her?” Ruda exclaimed. “Why would she know?”

“Because it’s immediately relevant to my calling,” said Trissiny. “And the spell is appallingly easy, which is exactly how Vanislaads keep getting onto the mortal plane. Even other demons don’t like them, and won’t let them near a hellgate from the other side. The summoning ritual is simple, versatile and requires very little power. A layperson can do it with readily available arcane materials. In fact, few actual warlocks would want an incubus or succubus around; they know how much trouble they are. It’s usually some idiot fantasizing about a beautiful, sexually insatiable servant and having no idea what they’re messing with.”

“Right,” said Gabriel, nodding again. “So we’ve got a very simple incantation, cast by a clearly skilled warlock—and one not only competent, but thorough enough to have built an elaborate, sadistic demon prison before he even started. If this guy’s a little unstable, that could well be why he won’t believe his prisoner isn’t a succubus. They’re shapeshifters, and if it’s that simple and hard to botch…”

“Then how did he botch it?” Juniper demanded.

“Chaos,” said Ariel. “A spell which has not only gone inexplicably wrong, but gone wrong in a way which is totally impossible… This is consistent with observed chaos effects. It causes magic to misfire in horribly unpredictable ways.”

“What she said,” Gabriel added. “I mean, if it was just this one thing… But here’s this impossible magical happening, and also there are chaos cults in Veilgrad? Multiple ones? No, that’s too suspicious.”

“Then…we have an avenue of investigation,” Ruda said slowly. “So we can quit wandering around talking to random assholes. Surely the Empire didn’t just kill all these cultists. The Imps have to have some imprisoned. Boots, you said they were amenable to working with us? So we go to the Imperial facility, talk with the chaos-worshiping dipshits, and hopefully learn our next move.”

“Which is good,” Vadrieny said impatiently, “but we have a more immediate problem. Rhaazke are culturally sort of like drow: matriarchal and militaristic. They are also loyal to Elilial, and emotionally stable, like hethelaxi without the berserking. In fact, those two things are related. It was their pocket dimension that Elilial launched her first campaign against Scyllith from. She bought their loyalty and keeps it by altering them so they don’t lose mental stability to infernal effects. These creatures are dangerous.”

“Well, this one is in a cage,” Ariel pointed out.

“You’re not listening!” the archdemon exclaimed. “Metal is rare in Hell—she was wearing iron bracelets. This girl is powerful, possibly royal. She has family who are doubtless frantic about her disappearance. They will be using every considerable magical resource they have to track her down. If they manage to get to this plane and find her in a cage in that imbecile’s basement, they will raze Veilgrad to the ground in their outrage. If they figure out what he intends for her, they won’t stop with the city.”

“Oh,” said Ruda. “Well. Fuck.”

“I doubt any clan of Rhaazke is a match for the Empire,” Vadrieny continued grimly. “There’s no political entity in their realm with comparable numbers or resources. But by the time they were beaten, this city and its surroundings would be infernally irradiated ruins.”

“What are the odds of them getting up here?” Trissiny asked.

“Exactly zero,” said Ariel.

“The sword is correct,” said Vadrieny, nodding. “Also zero were the odds of that one Rhaazke being here.”

“The demon is correct,” said the sword. “If this truly is a chaos effect we are dealing with, anything is possible and nothing is truly likely. The nature of chaos is unpredictability.”

“Wait, that can’t be right, though,” Gabriel protested. “For it to mess up Leduc’s summoning, the chaos effect has to be here, right? They can’t follow it from the other dimension.”

“I dunno if that’s a help,” said Fross. “Chaos is trans-dimensional by nature. The whole point of it is it’s the stuff that exists outside of reality. From between dimensions.”

“Then Leduc and his prisoner just became our most urgent priority,” Toby said flatly, his expression severe. “In addition to the important matter of correcting his…mistake…we may find evidence in Leduc Manor of whatever chaos effect is working on Veilgrad. If we’re assuming that is the root of the city’s problems.”

“Beats any other theory we have,” said Gabriel.

“Is no one else going to point it out?” Ariel complained. “We are talking about releasing a powerful, hitherto unknown type of demon whose defining characteristic seems to be that we cannot send it back where it came from. What do you intend to do with the creature once it’s free?”

“Two points,” said Vadrieny, folding her arms, “both of which I’ve already been over. Rhaazke are emotionally stable, not prone to the aggression of other demons, and they are loyal Elilinists. I can make her behave. Or at least obey.”

“She reacted strongly to Vadrieny’s brief presence,” Shaeine added. “I’m relatively certain she recognized her.”

“Also,” said Ruda, glaring at Ariel, “let’s keep in mind we are talking about a sentient being—a person—who is being kept in a sadistic prison in an insane pervert’s basement, being tortured into compliance so he can make her his concubine. It is immediately morally necessary that someone put a stop to this horseshit, preferably while also stuffing Sherwin Leduc so far simultaneously up his own ass and down his own throat that he ends up a living portal to Hell.”

“I am willing to acknowledge demons as people strictly on a case-by-case basis.”

“Hey!” Gabriel snapped. “Do you wanna go back in the Crawl?”

“Well! Let us hope Rhaazke are more grateful than half-hethelaxi.”

“Enough!” Toby exclaimed. “There’s more to discuss, but Ruda is correct. This calls for immediate action, both tactically and morally. We can hammer out details on the way. Right now, I think we need to go have a talk with Lord Leduc.”

“You can talk,” said Trissiny, turning and stalking toward the door, one hand on her sword. “I have something else for him.”

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Teal tugged the rope a second time; once again, they heard the bell chime distantly within the manor.

“Maybe no one’s home?” Teal suggested, stepping back from the door and craning her neck back to peer up at the towering face of the house.

“Grusser said he never leaves the house,” Sheaine replied. “I inquired further of Pearl this morning, who concurred. It’s apparently common knowledge in the city. Lord Sherwin has accounts with local merchants and gets his supplies delivered.”

“Mm. He surely doesn’t live in there all alone.”

“From here,” Shaeine said tactfully, “it looks as if he might. Malivette’s house suffers somewhat from having only four servants to look after it. This seems like it could result from a residence of this size having none.”

Leduc Manor was less isolated from the city than the Dufresne residence, but still lay outside its walls, and occupied a defensible position in the mountains overlooking Veilgrad. In fact, the grounds were on a broad ledge, its rim now secured behind a towering wall, reached by a single wide trail which switchbacked twice on the way up. It had a stunning, if somewhat vertigo-inducing, view of the city and the prairie beyond. The plot of land might have been an acre or two; it was difficult to tell due to the walls and structures therein.

The manor itself was of a similar general style to Dufresne Manor, with its intricate carving and steeply tilted roof, though its plan appeared to be more rambling and less square. The primary difference between the two was that Leduc Manor was falling apart. One entire wing, off to their left, had a collapsed roof, and to judge by the sky visible through its glassless windows, a missing wall on the opposite side. In fact, the only windows which had any glass left in them were cracked or broken panes which opened onto dark rooms. It seemed that only the central part of the house was still inhabited; there, at least, the windows had been boarded up against the fierce Stalrange winters. The grounds were overgrown with weeds, vines, and several enormous thorny bushes, and strewn with a variety of trash. Piles of masonry were left here and there, both broken rubbish that had clearly fallen off the house and newer-looking specimens that appeared to have been slated for repairs before the idea was abandoned. An entire carriage—old-fashioned, not a modern horseless one—sat broken and decaying with a scraggly bush growing up through it.

Still, there was no sign of the lord of the manor.

Teal pulled the bell rope a third time. Then, after a long moment, she banged her fist against the door.

“It is not necessarily suspicious that he won’t come out,” Shaeine observed. “This behavior suits the harmless recluse people seem to believe him to be. However…”

“Yeah,” Teal said, nodding. “It also suits some less harmless possibilities.” She turned to peer back the way they had come.

The outer gates of the manor had long collapsed; the grounds could be easily entered, and the doors reached by way of an overgrown path which still held pieces of paving stones amid the weeds.

“Can you hear anyone nearby?” Teal asked.

Shaeine shook her head. She had lowered her cowl when they passed into the Leduc grounds, exposing her face to the cool air. They had decided unanimously not to subject the people of Veilgrad to the sight of a drow if it could be avoided. “There is nothing living in the vicinity that I can detect. In fact, that is rather odd. An abandoned building this size, even if only partially abandoned, would normally be teeming with small animals.”

“I guess that depends on who lives there,” Teal said with a grimace. “All right, well… I don’t like to be pushy, but we’re going to have to deal with this guy, one way or another. In the long run I think digging him out of his hole for a talk will be less intrusive than having to come back here with Trissiny and Ruda.”

“What do you intend?” Shaeine asked quietly.

“Just a little something that I suspect will get a warlock’s attention.”

She took a step back from the door, glanced suspiciously over her shoulder again at the empty gates and the city far below, and shifted.

Vadrieny stretched her wings once, then wrinkled her nose, glancing around. “What a dump.”

“That’s hardly polite, love,” Shaeine said with a small smile.

The archdemon grinned at her, the expression warm and fond despite the fangs it displayed. “I promise not to say it to his face. In fact…best I don’t talk with him at all, don’t you think?”

Shaeine tilted her head. “Doesn’t that rather defeat the purpose?”

“If it comes down to terrorizing him, sure. I think we’ll get better—calmer—results from making him wonder what it was he sensed out here.”

“Ah.” The drow nodded, smiling approvingly. “A very good thought, strategic and considerate.”

“Teal’s idea,” Vadrieny said, stepping forward. She raised one hand, formed a loose fist—her claws weren’t retractable, and prevented a clenched one—and hammered hard on the door. It rattled violently in its frame, the wood splintering slightly on the last blow, and fragments of dust were shaken loose from the entire door frame. A single screw popped out of one of the heavy iron hinges.

“Ah,” Shaeine said a moment later, “someone is coming.”

“Good,” Vadrieny said smugly. “See you in a while, then.”

The drow forestalled her with a gentle hand on her arm. When Vadrieny paused, looking down at her in surprise, Shaeine stepped forward, craning her head up to kiss her on the cheek.

Vadrieny was still smiling as she withdrew, leaving Teal to inherit the grin. She mastered her expression, however, as the footsteps approaching the door grew loud enough for her ears to detect.

There came a rattling as locks were undone from within—several of them—and finally the door jerked open. Unusually for such an apparently defensible structure (at least it had been, when it was built), the door opened inward.

“What the hell do you gah!” Sherwin Leduc actually jumped backward at catching sight of Shaeine. He was a physically unimpressive sight: short and slight of build, his sandy hair in need of a trim and wearing three days’ growth of beard. A pair of round spectacles perched on his nose, the lenses lightly scratched in a few places. He appeared to be in his pajamas, with a threadbare robe thrown on over them.

“Have I the pleasure of addressing Lord Leduc?” Shaeine asked, bowing.

He stepped back again, keeping one arm fully extended to retain his grip on the door, and squinted suspiciously at her. “Who wants to know? See here, I have nothing to offer Scyllith and I don’t want anything from her.”

“Excuse me, you are mistaken,” Shaeine said, the faintest note of warning entering her tone. “I am a priestess of Themynra. My people have spilled lakes of our blood over the millennia to ensure that Scyllith’s agents do not darken your lands.”

“Well, that exhausts my only theory for what a drow would want here,” he said, eying her up and down, and then turning to peer skeptically at Teal.

“I am Shaeine nur Ashale d’zin Awarrion of Tar’naris; this is Teal Falconer. We are not here in any official capacity related to my home, but visiting from the University at Last Rock.”

Leduc’s expression collapsed into a scowl. “Oh. Come to finish what the last group of Tellwyrn’s students started here?”

“We actually don’t know anybody who’s been here before,” Teal said quickly. “Whatever happened then, it’s got nothing to do with us.”

“What happened is… Well, no, sorry, I’m being irrational.” Leduc sighed, scrubbing a hand through his shaggy hair. “House Leduc killed itself; Malivette’s University friends just ended up being the weapon. Still. Having you show up here out of the blue is a little disturbing.” He resumed staring suspiciously at them. “What do you want?”

“Well, hopefully we won’t have to bother you any further after today,” Teal said. “We’re just eliminating possibilities. How much do you know about what’s happening in Veilgrad?”

“Don’t know, don’t care,” he said bluntly. “I stay up here, people leave me alone. I’m happier, town’s happier, everybody wins.”

“Have you heard the howling in the mountains at night?” Shaeine asked quietly.

At that, he grinned unpleasantly. “Oh, sure. They don’t come here, though. Let ’em try; I’m not helpless.”

“Well, that’s basically the issue,” Teal said. “The city is slowly but surely falling apart; something is stirring up dangerous elements on all sides. The werewolves are just part of it.”

“Oh just let me guess,” Leduc said, rolling his eyes. “And you are here to get to the bottom of it.”

“In a nutshell, yes.”

“Well, I’m not at the bottom,” he snapped. “Or the top, or anywhere in between. I am not involved. You hear me? The Leducs don’t rule Veilgrad anymore, and never will again. In fact, this is it: you’re looking at the last of the line, and good riddance to it. Malivette can have the title and may it bite her harder than the thing that turned her. I stay on my property, I bother nobody, and when I die no one will notice for months. That’s how I like it. Good day.”

He started to close the door; Shaeine deftly inserted herself into the gap. “If you’ll consider the matter from our perspective,” she said smoothly, “surely you understand why that doesn’t really address any of our concerns?”

“Did I stutter?” he exclaimed. “I don’t care about your concerns. Now go away!”

“We really just want a few minutes of your time, Lord Sherwin,” Teal said. “Just to get your perspective on things, so we can go back and tell the others you’re not a factor here. That’s all we’re doing, eliminating possibilities.”

At that, he hesitated. “Others?”

“Indeed,” Shaeine said placidly. “We are traveling with, among others, all three current paladins. And a dryad.”

Leduc sucked in a long, slow breath through his teeth. “So,” he said tightly, “I can talk to you, or I can talk to them, is that it?”

“People are in danger,” Teal said softly. “Believe me, we’re not normally this pushy, but the problems in Veilgrad are escalating. If you could just help us rule you out as a factor, that would be tremendously helpful, and then you’ll never have to hear from any of us again.”

The young lord sighed heavily, and more than a touch melodramatically. “Ugh, fine, if that’s what will make you go away. You might as well come in, I guess.” He turned his back on them and stalked into the manor, leaving the door standing open.

They followed, Teal pausing to gently push the door shut behind them. The great hall into which they stepped was a panorama of ruined grandeur; unlike Malivette’s, it had not been cleared out, its opulent furnishings simply left to decay. In fact, the degree of decay was startling, considering it had taken place within a span of a relatively few years. Finely carved end tables were partially collapsed, shards of broken porcelain lying amid their ruins. On marble bust of a woman lay face-up, missing half its head. Tapestries were ragged and torn in addition to rotting; oil paintings appeared to have been slashed, those that hadn’t fallen to the ground, their frames splintered by impact. In one corner, the walls black with mold, a large crop of toadstools was growing. The centerpiece of the whole sad display was an enormous wrought iron chandelier, still containing the burned-down stubs of candles, lying broken in the very middle of the hall where it had fallen. The floorboards beneath it had cracked and buckled severely.

The smell was indescribable.

Leduc led the way along one side of the hall, where tracks had been worn into the dust—and into the carpet—a safe distance from the ruptured floor beneath the chandelier. His path avoided the grand double staircase at the opposite end of the room, leading straight to an unobtrusive door hidden beneath it.

Teal and Shaeine drew closer together as they followed him into the dim hall beyond, pressing the backs of their hands against each other. Even here, Narisian modesty prevailed, but it was a place that made them instinctively reach for comfort.

The corridor was dark, dusty and smelled of mildew, though less severely than the once-grand entry hall, but it blessedly wasn’t terribly long. After only a minute, they turned a corner and shortly emerged into a warm and brightly lit space, a very pleasant sight after the one which had preceded it.

It was a kitchen, a long, stone-walled space large enough to have served the fully-inhabited manor in its heyday. The whole thing had been heavily altered, though. A warm fire burned in the hearth, which bore the fixtures of an old roasting spit, long since removed. There was also an oven with a stove top, and a currently dark cast iron stove with a pipe leading out through a hastily-cut hole in the ceiling. Firewood had been stacked along one wall. A modern enchanted cold box stood next to the fridge, alongside a faucet and sink attached to a water-conjuration apparatus—difficult and very expensive work, seldom used because it was generally cheaper and easier just to install indoor plumbing.

The rest of the room, however, had been cleared of any kitchen-related paraphernalia and converted into an obvious living space. Laden bookshelves lined the walls, a single bed was tucked into a corner—unmade, of course—and there was a heavy armchair dragged up near the fireplace, with a small end table beside it on which sat a mug of beer.

It was cluttered, but in the way of a casually maintained bachelor pad—clothes were tossed about the sleeping area, books were stacked on the floor by their shelves somewhat haphazardly, and there was a pile of dishes on the counter by the sink. The whole place could have used a good sweeping and dusting. It was a lived-in state of disorder, though, quite unlike the filthy decay of the rest of the house.

“All right, here you are,” Leduc said with poor grace, stalking across to his armchair and flopping down in it. “So, let’s have it. What do you want to know so badly?”

“The pattern of incidents growing in Veilgrad have no immediately discernible root,” Shaeine said, gliding over to stand in front of him, a few yards away. “In addition to the werewolves, there has been a recent proliferation of minor chaos cults, several incidents of necromancy, and a Shaathist offshoot cult that has taken to harassing the local Huntsmen. More than that, violent crime and violence in general are rising, as if the general populace is becoming more prone to acting that way. There was an actual mob attack upon Malivette’s property.”

“Couldn’t happen to a nicer person,” he sneered. “Though I’m not sure that word still applies to good ol’ Vette.”

“I found her rather nice,” said Teal. “In her own way. Not that she isn’t eccentric.”

“That isn’t the word I meant.”

“It has been pointed out to us,” said Shaeine, “that one possible root cause of generalized aggression is a great deal of loose infernal magic. Clearly, thus, it is advantageous that we speak to you.”

Leduc frowned thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. “Hm. Yeah, infernal magic does have that effect… That really can’t be it, though.”

“Why not?” Shaeine inquired.

“All kinds of reasons. For one thing, that’s only one of its effects; if there were widespread infernal corruption going on, people would be getting sick, plants would be alternately dying or growing thorns where they didn’t use to have them, any animals born would be mutated… Apart from that, people would notice infernal energy loose in the streets. The Shaathists don’t actually have more than a couple of priests, I don’t think, but there’s a sizable Omnist temple here, and a grand old Universal Church chapel. Plus, the Empire keeps an eye and has means to notice such things. Hell, I would’ve noticed, and something like that I would have to respond to. Ninety percent of being a warlock is control; you just cannot have infernal magic running loose.”

“I see,” Shaeine mused. “That certainly seems reasonable. I suppose it only leaves the question of what it is you actually do up here alone.”

“None of your business,” he snapped.

“Lord Sherwin,” she said solemnly, “I come from a culture which prizes discretion and personal privacy. I assure you, the last thing I wish is to intrude upon yours. I would not dream of coming here to ask such prying questions were there not an immediate need.”

“The problem in a nutshell,” Teal added, “is we don’t know what is causing all this to happen, which means any major unanswered questions look more suspicious than they otherwise would. With all respect, my lord, it’s very unusual for a person to live alone and shun all contact.”

“If you’ve made any inquiries into the recent history of Veilgrad,” he grated, “you might understand why my own life has been somewhat traumatic, and why I’m not inclined to give a damn what happens to that town or the people in it.”

“That sentiment,” said Shaeine, “is somewhat more ominous in light of the town’s troubles, not less.”

“What we really want,” said Teal, “is to be able to go back to the others and assure them you’re not an issue. You get left alone that way, and we write off one more avenue of investigation. It helps us both. But if we have to leave with no hint as to how you spend your time, or why you need so much privacy or to practice infernal magic… Well, if we can’t find any other promising leads, we’re probably gonna come back to the warlock on the hill. You see what I mean?”

“This is bullying,” he complained, grimacing.

“I am sorry that it seems that way to you,” Shaeine replied calmly. “If you insist, we will go. Hopefully something else will turn up and we will not need to come back. I’m afraid not all of our associates are as patient…”

“Bullying and threats,” he grumbled. “All right, fine. Look. I’m not a bad person, okay? I just want… I want to be left alone, to not have to deal with any of the bullshit of the nobility or the damn city, and… What I mean is, I don’t need people getting into my business, or stories circulating about me. That is… Well, if I tell you anything, I’m concerned about who it might get back to, all right?”

“I assure you,” said Shaeine, “we have already intruded upon you more than is comfortable. We would only share anything you’ve revealed with others if there were an immediate need, pertaining to the safety of the city.”

“The thing about safety,” he began.

“Can I just interrupt you there?” said Teal. “I bet I know the speeches you’ve heard about infernal magic, and most of them weren’t wrong, but with all due respect, we don’t much care what you do with yourself. If you end up cursed or sick or exploded, well, that’s your business.”

Leduc actually grinned at her. “Now I’m curious why you’d have heard those speeches. Well, anyway, fine. It’s…it’s people I don’t much like or trust, get it? Growing up the way I did, I’ve repeatedly observed that demons are pretty predictable, and actually pretty understandable if you take into account where they come from, but people are just… A person might do anything. Any damn thing at all, and half the things they do are just mean for no good reason. So… Well, it is a little lonely up here, and I have the means to, erm… Create my own company, as it were.”

“We assumed there was a certain amount of demon-summoning involved in being a practicing warlock,” said Shaeine. “At issue is what you do with anything you summon.”

“Really, that’s it?” he said, surprised. “No speeches about how demons aren’t good company?”

“It depends on the demon, doesn’t it?” Teal said quietly.

Leduc frowned at her. “Why did you two get the job to come talk to me?”

“That is neither here nor there,” Shaeine said smoothly. “Can you perhaps be a little bit more specific? Many kinds of demons are no great threat if properly contained.”

“Can’t I keep a little bit of privacy?” he complained.

“You can keep most of it,” Shaeine assured him. “We only want some assurance that you’re not doing anything dangerous to the town.”

Leduc sighed heavily. “It’s… Well, just… You’ll judge me. I hate that. It’s half the reason I don’t like talking to people.”

“Without going into too much detail,” Teal said wryly, “none of us are in a position to be judgmental. And whatever you’re up to, I’m willing to bet we’ve heard worse.”

He sighed again, heavily, and gulped down the rest of the beer in his mug. “I… It’s… Well, a person does have some needs, you know, even if… And, I, what I mean…” He trailed off, glaring into the bottom of the mug.

After a few moments, Shaeine opened her mouth to speak, but before she could he burst out. “I summoned a succubus, all right? Are you happy now?”

Teal’s eyes widened and she took a step back.

“Not particularly, no,” Shaeine said quietly. “That is not the kind of harmless thing we can ignore, Lord Sherwin. Children of Vanislaas are incredibly dangerous.”

“If you let them run around loose, yeah!” he exclaimed. “I know what I’m doing! What did I tell you? Ninety percent control! Trust me, my containment systems are absolutely foolproof.”

“Famous last words,” Teal said.

“Oh, what would you know?” he scoffed. “You wanna know what I’ve been doing up here for years? That! I’m not an idiot, I know how dangerous Vanislaads can be, so I’ve spent my time devising a proper facility to hold one. Years! And believe you me, it works! She can’t get out or she would have long before now. And my training program hasn’t really had time to work fully, but I’m already loosening her up a bit. She’s difficult, yeah, but in no time…”

He trailed off again, finally noticing the way they were looking at him.

“Let me see if I understand you,” Shaeine said in deadly quiet. “You are keeping a woman locked in a cage for the purpose of breaking her will so you can sexually exploit her?”

“A demon,” he said, more than a hint of whine in his voice. “Not a woman. I think you’ll find it’s perfectly legal to treat demons any way you like.”

“Not a woman, huh,” Teal said, barely keeping her own outrage in check. Her fists were clenched at her sides. “So, an incubus would’ve been just as good for your purposes?”

“Oh, please,” he said disdainfully. “I’m a loner and a warlock, not a pervert. Everyone has lines they won’t cross.”

“You disgusting little—”

“There! See!” He pointed accusingly at her. “Judging! I’ve had just about enough of you two. Get out of my house!”

“I think we had better see this…containment system,” Shaeine said coldly.

Leduc folded his arms and slumped back into his chair, adopting a mulish expression. “Not happening.”


 

“This is a serious imposition,” Leduc griped five minutes later, grudgingly inserting a key into the door at the bottom of the spiral staircase from his kitchen apartment. “I’m in the middle of an isolation phase. She’s not supposed to have any company for another couple of days; you’re setting back my program by who knows how much…”

“You know what?” Teal said tightly. “It might be best if you just didn’t say any more.”

“Open the door, please,” Shaeine said quietly.

Leduc sighed dramatically, but turned the key and pushed it open, stepping through. They followed right on his heels.

The basement room was completely covered in charms and sigils. They practically plastered the walls and ceiling, and even the floor; a raised path of wooden planks led from the door to the huge apparatus in the room’s center. Icons of every conceivable deity were present, pressed against each other and in some cases overlapping. The entire Pantheon was represented, even the trident and hurricane sigils associated with Naphthene and Ouvis, who lacked organized cults. In several places, the balance scale emblem of Themynra began to shine subtly at Shaeine’s presence. The icons were of a variety of metals, wood and stone, some even formed of clay. There had to be thousands of them.

Other things had been built up in the chamber: fairy lamps occupied each of the corners, filling it with a cold, white light. There were also stands interspersed along the walls that resembled small altars, displaying a variety of natural objects: shells, rocks, crystals, branches and a variety of dried plants, even the bones of small animals. Each had an inscrutable array of modern enchanting paraphernalia built up onto it.

Predominating the space, in the center, was an enormous cube of metal, also decorated with holy sigils, and also with pipes, wires and crystals of arcane enchantment bordering its corners. More mundane systems of gears and pulleys connected it to a metal structure bolted to the ceiling directly above; a little examination revealed its obvious purpose of lifting the sheets of steel that formed the sides of the box.

He clearly hadn’t boasted; this setup must have taken years to construct, especially if he had worked on it alone.

“This is probably the most holy place in Veilgrad,” Lord Leduc said smugly, seemingly oblivious to his guests’ expressions. “Sure, you don’t get as much power per sigil with the god in question not actively blessing it, but basically all the cults sell holy icons. Oh, they don’t call it selling, but you make a donation and get one. Religious people can never just call something what it is. Now, those altars, there? Those are also important; I had them designed by an expert witch to produce pure fae magic. That’s the trickiest part of the whole thing, ‘cos I have to re-charge them from time to time, which means gathering up more sacred fairy crap to put on them. It’s expensive, too, but I have people who work on that for me. The altars themselves have enchantments designed to convert that fairy power into the divine, which adds more juice to the sigils. Well, not convert it directly, you need an actual magic user consciously doing that, but if you’re willing to accept a power loss of over ninety percent, you can rig it so the divine magic tends to naturally feed on the fae. It’s enough to make a completely demon-proof barrier. I could hold an archdemon in this room.”

“Wanna bet?” Teal asked softly.

Leduc nattered on, ignoring her, apparently pleased to have an audience to whom to boast about his project, despite their clear antipathy. “The enchantments over the cage itself are the most complex part; obviously I have to have some protection for my demon or she’d just be incinerated in this room, right? So that’s what that is. You see the sigils suspended outside the superstructure, there? Those are actually keyed into an infernal spell matrix, a kind of reverse blessing that counteracts all the loose divine energy in here. So, yeah, she probably can get out of that cage, but she’d regret it. Briefly.” He snickered. “I made sure to demonstrate this before leaving her alone, of course.”

“Open the cage,” Shaeine said quietly.

“Whoah, now, I agreed to show you my containment system,” Leduc said. “Seriously, you are going to mess up my training program if you go any further, all right? She’s sitting in the dark thinking about what she did, and going to for a few more—”

He broke off as Shaeine turned to face him fully. She was as still and superficially calm as always, but whatever he saw in her face made him take a step backward, eyes widening.

“Open it,” she ordered.

Leduc opened his mouth, shut it, grimaced, and swallowed heavily. Muttering sullenly to himself, he stepped to one side of the door, carefully picking his way between the holy sigils laid into the floor, and tugged on a large lever attached to a system of chains and pulleys that ran to the cage via the ceiling.

With a loud rasp of metal, the sheets of steel blocking off the sides of the box slid smoothly and quickly upward, revealing the rather mundane iron cage within. There was nothing in there with the inhabitant except a few bowls and buckets of obvious purpose.

She sat on the floor with her back to them. Her skin was pale, oddly mottled and striated with patterns of black and purple. Short, spiky hair was surmounted by a pair of barbed horns sweeping back from her hairline over her skull, rather like the ones Elilial was often depicted with. Her tail lay limply upon the floor of her cage, tipped in a wicked stinger. Aside from spiked bracers of beaten iron, all she wore was a simple wrap of some kind of leather. Her shoulders were broad, her arms thickly corded with powerful muscle, but despite the intimidating figure she made, she hunched in on herself at the loss of the barriers between her and her captor.

“You fool,” Shaeine hissed, “that is not a—”

Teal erupted in hellfire as Vadrieny burst forth with a furious howl. Leduc barely had time to stagger backward from her when the entire basement erupted in light. A tone like a struck gong resonated through the air, and Teal collapsed to the plank path, human again and unconscious. All around the room, sigils smoked, several of them now visibly cracked, but the light faded as quickly as it had come.

Shaeine was instantly on her knees at Teal’s side, ignoring Leduc as he ranted above them.

“What the hell? Why didn’t you tell me your friend was possessed? Do you know the kind of risk you took, bringing her in here? And why would she try to—I just said this room is demon proof, I even told you how it works! Omnu’s balls, does she have a death wish? Gods above and below, this is not my fault, you have to…”

He carried on babbling, while Shaeine gently took Teal’s face in her hands, closing her eyes in concentration.

Behind them, the demon had turned, and now clutched the bars of her cage with clawed fingers, her slitted eyes staring intently at Teal. None of them were looking, but her expression was intent, ardent, and alight with sudden hope.

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Dusk was falling as the students disembarked from Malivette’s ostentatious carriages outside their destination. It seemed few people in Veilgrad were anxious to be out after or even too shortly before dark, to judge by the lack of passersby in this central area of the city. Those who were out on the streets, though, stared closely at them, some pausing unabashedly to gawk.

“Why do I have the feeling they’re not enraptured by our good looks?” Toby murmured.

“It’s a safe bet people in the city know whose carriages these are,” Trissiny replied. “Why do I have the feeling this is going to lead to trouble down the road?”

“There are access tunnels leading from the manor to various parts of the city,” Pearl said, stepping gracefully down from the driver’s seat of the carriage. Somehow, incredibly, she managed this without disturbing her expensive dress. “The Mistress considered sending you out through those, but you were already seen entering the carriages at the Rail platform. It will come out sooner or later that you are staying with us.”

“Wise,” Shaiene agreed, nodding. “Whether or not our associations are approved of, attempting to hide them would only make us look more suspicious.”

Jade descended to the pavement and strolled over to her counterpart, speaking as she did so. “Remember, kids, Mr. Grusser is technically not a noble, and his official title is Steward for House Dufresne, but for all intents and purposes, he is the acting governor of this city and the surrounding province. He doesn’t stand much on ceremony, but the man is popular and good at his job—a suitable combination for a public servant. He should be treated with due respect.”

“Is that really a concern?” Juniper asked, tilting her head quizzically. “Do we seem like the kind of people who’d be rude to the man in charge?”

“Well, let’s keep in mind that Arquin’s been in there for a couple hours and be prepared to do some damage control,” Ruda snorted.

“I don’t think you give Gabriel very much credit,” Fross said reprovingly. “So he’s not very practiced socially; he is trying, and getting better.”

“Also, he’s not just some kid anymore,” Teal noted. “The Hand of Vidius can probably get away with a gaffe here and there.”

“There’s another thing,” said Pearl. Jade gave her a pointed look, which she returned. After a tense pause, she turned her face back toward the cluster of students and continued. “Mr. Grusser’s consort, Eleny Feathership, is not his wife and has no legal status. She is, however, as loved by him as any bride, and also quite popular among the citizenry. I suggest you consider her the lady of the manor, and act accordingly.”

“There it is again,” Juniper complained. “Why would we be mean to this guy’s girlfriend?”

“It isn’t that,” Jade said with a wry little smile. “You might be…surprised, however.”

“Less so now,” Pearl added. “The Mistress enjoys her little jokes, but I fear too much social isolation has blunted her sense of what’s good fun and what may be hurtful. You are not going in completely unaware, but that is all I will say on the matter. She did wish for you to have a surprise this evening.”

“I’m thinkin’ the fewer of those we have, the better,” Ruda commented.

“Are you just…going to wait out here?” Teal asked a moment later, when the students had started moving toward the door and their drivers did not.

“We should remain with the carriages,” Pearl said, smiling. “It discourages pranksters.”

“Is that safe, though?” Teal asked, frowning. “I mean… Malivette said there’d been two riots. People attacked her house.”

“The Mistress has a penchant for dramatic effect,” said Jade, rolling her eyes. “It was more like one long riot with two particularly busy spells. She had to go outside twice, but after her second…performance…I highly doubt anyone in Veilgrad will challenge her or us directly. Unattended carriages might be just too tempting, however. So, here we stay.”

“I mean no disrespect,” Toby said diplomatically, “and you surely know the city better than we… But if it comes to another riot or something even similar, well… You’re two young women in fancy dresses.”

“They will be fine,” Trissiny said from up ahead. She caught Jade’s eye and nodded. “Trust me. Nothing around here is going to threaten them.”

“Now, is this you knowin’ something we don’t,” Ruda demanded, “or are you just willing to throw the vampire’s pals too the wolves?”

“Do any of you actually know anything about vampires?” Trissiny asked.

“A little!” Fross chimed. “A…very little. I really need to hit the books and bone up on undead. I was not expecting that information to be relevant on this trip.”

“What do you know about vampires?” Teal asked Trissiny.

“If it lurks in the night and kills people, I’ve been trained to destroy it,” the paladin replied. “I’ll bring you all up to speed on everything I know later, though that research is still a good idea, Fross. My own intel is singularly focused, and we presumably won’t be destroying Malivette.”

“You had better move along,” Pearl said gently. “You’re expected for dinner; it won’t do to be late. Mr. Grusser might think we delayed you on purpose.”

“Righto, then,” Ruda said with a shrug. “If you’re sure…”

Despite its foreboding outer walls, the general architecture within Veilgrad might be best described as “quaint.” It ran heavily to tall stone foundations and whitewashed walls braced by dark-stained beams. The structure to which they had been delivered was a particularly large specimen of the style, half fortress and half overblown cottage, and somehow it all worked. The elaborately carved window shutters and corner posts beautifully offset the grim towers of granite blocks; in some places, graceful wood-and-plaster walls rose straight from behind battlements which were obviously decorative rather than functional.

The building had been described to them as the administrative center of Veilgrad, encompassing both its city hall and the residence of the mayor, whom they had come to visit. Thus, they’d been brought to a rear entrance, where a small cul-de-sac made room for the carriages. Rather than climbing the broad steps to the hall’s towering front doors, they approached a much smaller, more cozy entrance, flanked by cheerful fairy lamps and narrow windows.

Toby pulled the bell; the door was opened mere moments later, revealing an older man in understated livery, his coat a dark purple offset by sober deep gray.

“Good evening, sir and ladies,” he said. “Welcome to Dufresne House. Please, come in; you are expected.”

He stepped back, bowing them through, and the students trooped in, gathering uncertainly in the hall while the servant shut the door behind them. It was warmly lit, fairy lamps shining through golden glass sconces; the stone floor and dark-paneled walls were decorated by a long rug and hanging tapestries. An actual suit of armor stood next to the door.

“This way, if you please,” the servant said diffidently, ushering them forward. “The Steward awaits you in the dining room with the last member of your party. Dinner will be served anon. Please, enter and be comfortable.”

It was a pretty short distance to the dining room, reached by a narrow side hall; they could already hear voices, one of which was laughing. The other was familiar.

“I still can’t believe it! A princess!” one speaker said, still chortling. “Right in the foot!”

“Well, I can’t deny it worked. Those horses got one whiff of demon and went haring off like…well, like they’d seen a demon. That doesn’t mean I’m ever going to let go of it, of course.”

“Oh, indeed, you should milk that for every precious drop. It’s not often you get something to hold over a woman; usually that goes the other way ’round!”

They’d begun filing into the dining room as he spoke, and at the last sentence Trissiny cleared her throat pointedly.

At the head of the long table, the man who had been seated there looked up and quickly rose to his feet, beaming in apparent pleasure at his guests. Beside him, Gabriel stood a moment later, grinning. Mayor Grusser was surprisingly young, somewhere between his later youth and earliest middle years; it was hard to say precisely. His Stalweiss origins showed clearly in his fair hair, pale complexion and square features. That was no surprise, the name having been a tip-off, and anyway more than half the population of Veilgrad were Stalweiss, most of the rest being Tiraan. Before the Imperial conquest, it had been considered part of the Stalrange. He was tall, but in addition to his relative youth, was also quite slim of build. Somehow his image didn’t quite match the title of his office.

“Everyone! Welcome!” Grusser exclaimed, enthusiastically waving them forward. “Please, please, everyone, sit, make yourselves comfortable—we don’t over-emphasize ceremony here. While you are my guests, my home is your home. I am Lars Grusser, Steward of House Dufresne and sort of the mayor by default of Veilgrad. And you are… Of course, please allow me to guess. Gabriel has been telling me the most hilarious stories—I feel as if I already know each of you!”

Their round of introductions was just coming to a close when another door at the opposite end of the room opened, apparently by itself. A pause fell, Juniper trailing off her apology for not being able to bring her pet (fortunately, she wasn’t positioned to see her classmates’ expressions), as everyone turned to look quizzically at the door. Those on the wrong side of the table couldn’t immediately see anyone present.

“Oh, heaven’s sake, Lars, why am I the last one to dinner in my own house?” a female voice exclaimed. “You could have sent for me—I thought they weren’t arriving till later!”

“Well, that was the plan, love,” Grusser said, smiling broadly and rising from his seat again. “But you know how Vette enjoys her little pranks. Fortunately Hans had more foresight than we, otherwise our guests might have been waiting a long time for dinner. Everyone, this is my companion, Eleny Feathership.”

Gabriel had already got to his feet, bowing courteously to the new arrival; the others respectfully stood in the next moments, most trying not to look confused or startled after Pearl’s warning.

Eleny was a gnome, scarcely more than three feet tall, with curly brown hair that fell to her waist. She wore a conservatively cut dress of red brocade, and smiled warmly up at Grusser as he fell to one knee beside her, taking her hand and placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles.

“Ah, yes, Vette’s jokes. You’re right, love, one of us really ought to have seen that coming. Well, here we are now!” She smiled broadly up at her guests. “Did I miss the introductions?”


 

Dinner was plentiful and good. The simple and hearty fare consisted of Stalweiss staples: sausage and cabbage soup, fried potatoes, wedges of spicy cheese, and apples for dessert. The only thing missing from the traditional spread was beer. Apparently Professor Tellwyrn’s drinking policy had been advertized ahead of them. Mayor or no mayor, Grusser clearly was wise enough to respect it.

Once over the initial surprise, the students found their host and hostess excellent conversationalists, skilled at maintaining a pleasant mood over dinner. Rehashing some of Gabriel’s stories provided them plenty of fodder; Ruda in particular chose to challenge his interpretations of certain events. Grusser sat at the head of the long table, Eleny at the far end, her seat specially designed to keep her at the same level as the rest of the diners. After the confusion and subtle menace that had marked their visit to Veilgrad thus far, it was altogether a blessedly pleasant evening.

Eventually, though, apples were being polished off, the efficient manservant Hans was removing plates, and finally the mayor leaned back in his chair, folding his hands on the table in front of him, and spoke in a deceptively casual tone.

“So! I understand you’ve been sent here to find and remove the source of the troubles we have been experiencing.”

Silence suddenly fell, the sophomores glancing around at each other. Eleny watched them all, her expression pleasantly neutral.

“First of all,” Toby began, “we greatly appreciate your patience, Mr. Grusser. Please understand the last thing anyone here intends is to step on your authority in any way. Professor Tellwyrn has a tendency to assign these…projects…without much regard for how people will be affected by them.”

“Well,” Grusser said with a wry smile, “my ‘authority,’ or lack thereof, is a sort of complicated matter. The political situation in Veilgrad is…unusual, and somewhat tense, but it has worked for us. At least until very recently. I will tell you this, though.” He leaned forward again, his expression growing intent. “I am only a few years younger than Malivette; I was but a schoolboy when she was attacked by the vampire and House Dufresne all but destroyed. I knew her, though, distantly. We did not really socialize, but my family have been stewards to hers for generations, and I was definitely aware of her. She was always such a bright girl, cheerful and fond of jokes. After that…” He sighed heavily. “Well. It was certainly to be expected that she would be full of darkness, given all that she had experienced. I only saw her once more before she left for the University. I recall thinking, at the time, that that was the face of a woman who truly, deeply hated herself, the world and everything in it.

“Then,” he continued pensively, “four years later, I was working as a secretary under my father when she returned. The darkness was still there, obviously, and I rather think always will be. But she was herself again. To the extent that it was possible, whatever happened at that school put her back right. She smiled and laughed again, had friends.”

“Oh, did she ever have friends,” Eleny said, grinning.

“Indeed, my dear, and that is the next point I was about to make,” Grusser said, nodding to her. “She came back with half a dozen classmates, visiting for the summer before going off to resume their own lives. At that time, my friends, Veilgrad was suffering a significant demon problem.”

“Demon problem?” Trissiny said sharply.

“The city had had one for a good many years,” he replied solemnly, “though it had escalated in the years since the fall of House Dufresne. By that point, people walked about armed; there were two known katzils nesting somewhere in the roofs, imps had a tendency to appear in the streets at night, and there was an incubus operating in the city, spreading chaos. He was the worst of all.”

“What was he trying to do?” Teal asked, fascinated.

“I am glad to say that the minds of demons are inscrutable to me,” Grusser said with a grimace.

“He wasn’t necessarily trying to do anything in particular,” Trissiny noted. “An incubus would attempt to destabilize whatever city he found himself in just on general principles.”

“That summer,” Grusser continued, his grin returning, “all of that ended. Oh, the University graduates were very subtle. I only know they were involved at all because of my father’s position; it was to us that they came for advice on navigating the city. Within a few weeks, the demons were just gone, and the next we heard, nearly all of House Leduc had been quietly arrested in the night by Imperial Intelligence and shipped off to trial in Tiraas.”

“This House was responsible for the demon attacks?” Shaeine asked, frowning in polite disapproval.

“No official confirmation of that was ever published,” Eleny said, rolling her eyes, “but it was an open secret from the beginning. Veilgrad started suffering intermittent demonic problems at the same time members of one of its two noble families started universally dying of sudden cancer in their forties, while nevertheless growing richer by means no banker could seem to track. Subtle, they were not.”

“Subtle enough to avoid official censure, at least until the University people stepped in and broke them,” Grusser said with obvious satisfaction. “The point of my story, friends, is that I have no objection to your presence or activities here. None. I don’t presume to know what happens at that school of yours, but Professor Tellwyrn clearly knows what she is about. As do her students. Now that Veilgrad is suffering from some unknown darkness—again—I have to admit being relieved that you are here.” He grinned, and winked. “Meddling.”

“Perhaps you can elucidate the political situation for us?” Shaeine suggested. “You spoke of two houses. Our hosts said that House Dufresne were your employers, yet you speak as if they are gone.”

“Yes, quite right,” he replied. “Well, to begin, Veilgrad has had two resident Houses since it first became an Imperial province. Houses Dufresne and Leduc arrived simultaneously, and in fact were instrumental in the Tiraan conquest and the subsequent campaign into the Stalrange. Now, however, both teeter on the brink of extinction, reduced to a single member each. In fact, the last member of House Dufresne, who officially holds the title of Duchess of this province, is legally dead. She is still up and walking about, however, and even the Empire has declined to try stripping her of her position. This…makes the matter complicated, as I’m sure you can imagine.”

“Wait, Malivette is the ruler of this province?” Trissiny exclaimed.

“On paper,” Grusser said seriously. “In practice, I handle all of her affairs except the personal. It is really the only way; the populace would never tolerate a vampire’s direct control over them.”

“Where did you think she got that giant mansion from?” Eleny asked, grinning.

“Dufresne, Leduc,” Teal murmured. “Those aren’t Stalweiss names. Nor Tiraan… If anything, they sound Glassian.”

“Just so!” Eleny said, smiling broadly. “You’ve a good ear for tongues. Aye, the history is actually quite fascinating. The earliest Dufresnes and Leducs in the region fled Glassierre due to some politics in the old country; when they came to this continent, they went right to Tiraas, presented themselves to the Emperor and offered their fealty. Well, Tiraas was at that time launching its conquest of this region, and these two were a godsend. Few of the native nobility wanted to risk their own assets against the Stalweiss and their Huntsmen, who were sort of legendary terrors at that time. And here came two brand new Houses from a cold country which was famous for its art and culture despite having to beat back constant incursions of its borders. Who better to conquer and civilize the Stalrange?”

“Sounds like they were on pretty good terms, then,” Gabriel noted.

“At that time, aye, they were,” the gnome replied, nodding. “But that was centuries ago. Ever since, with the conquest long accomplished…well, they were two big birds in the same nest, and fell to infighting as nobles always do. The rulership of Veilgrad and the province passed back and forth between them in the course of just all kinds of intrigues. Toward the end, there, it was widely known the Leducs were practicing some kind of diabolism; in fact, twice that there are records of, the Black Wreath themselves intervened to shut down some project of theirs. But they kept at it, and only House Dufresne, being rulers at the time, had the power to keep ’em in check. Then the Dufresnes were slaughtered in their beds by a vampire and the only heir turned, and the Leducs saw weakness. It got bad before it got better,” she added solemnly.

“She’s quite the historian, is my Eleny,” Grusser said, smiling fondly.

“Lars thinks I tend to natter on and bore the company,” the gnome said, returning his expression exactly. “But it is immediately relevant to the topic! The Dufresnes were wiped out by a vampire; the Leducs were mostly cleared out by the Empire after University adventurers…well, did whatever they did. The last of ’em died off in prison or in shame, most by suicide. There’s one Lord of House Leduc left, moldering away in that mansion, and he has no political aspirations. Then there’s the Lady Dufresne, who has to keep out of politics to avoid inciting a rebellion. That is why Lars effectively runs this province, despite being no aristocrat.”

“That seems…peculiar, if you will pardon my saying it,” Shaeine said tactfully. “Would it not make sense for the Empire to appoint you governor, Mr. Grusser?”

“Politics,” he said with a dramatic sigh belied by his amused expression. “You see, my friends, doing that would establish a precedent. Specifically, that a noble ruler can be removed for such a paltry reason as being totally unfit to govern. The Houses would never stand for that; it’d put fully half of them out on the street if it became Imperial policy.”

“That’s…really weird,” said Juniper, blinking. “I’m not much for law or politics, but wouldn’t that be a really good idea? I mean, for the Emperor to do. Why does he let them push him around that way?”

“On paper,” Grusser replied, “the power of the Silver Throne is absolute. In practice, there’s a lot the Houses could do to make Sharidan’s life miserable if they chose, especially if a lot of them were in agreement on it. He’s very good at keeping them mollified. Among other things, that requires some unfortunate compromises. The issue in Veilgrad is that with as much unrest as this region has suffered, removing a familiar face who is—if I may flatter myself—rather popular and placing another leader in the governorship would be risking serious unrest, possibly verging on rebellion. Thus, it’s in the Throne’s best interests to let the situation stand. He can’t place another House in charge, and he definitely can’t risk the wrath of the aristocrats by simply removing the resident House and putting a commoner in charge.”

“Emperors have done that, though,” Trissiny said, frowning. “Repeatedly.”

“Conquering Emperors have done that,” Grusser corrected her with a smile. “The Tirasian Dynasty stitched this Empire back together after the Enchanter Wars through diplomacy and subterfuge. Sharidan has the backing of the military—no Tiraan Emperor lasts long without it—but he’s not willing to use that against his own people except at great need, and the Houses know it. No, the situation here is undesirable, but stable. Politically speaking, that is. If the escalating issues in this city aren’t brought to a halt, though… It’s impossible to say what might happen.”

“Thank you for explaining all of this, Mr. Grusser,” Toby said thoughtfully. “This answers a number of questions I had about Malivette and her position in the city.”

“My pleasure!”

“So, the question now is, what’s our plan?” Gabriel said, looking around at them.

“First things first,” Eleny said briskly. “Coming here was a good start; you should also check in with the other political powers active in the city. The Omnist temple, the Huntsmen, the Universal Church parson and the Imperial barracks.”

“That would take days if we did it sequentially,” Shaeine observed. “I propose dividing our forces.”

“Yeah, pretty obvious who should go talk with the monks,” Ruda said, winking at Toby. “And of course, we should definitely send Trissiny up to the lodge to chat with the Huntsmen.”

“Is…is she joking?” Eleny asked in a tone of fascinated horror.

“Yes,” Trissiny said firmly. “If Ruda suggests anything tremendously stupid, you can be sure she is joking.”

“Aw, way to ruin my fun, Shiny Boots,” Ruda said, grinning.

“There’s another thing,” Grusser added seriously. “I presume that you will be wanting to look into the known threats facing the city after you have introduced yourselves to the potential stabilizing forces?”

“Any starting points you can suggest would be very helpful,” Toby said.

“Well…” Grusser sighed. “With regard to that, there is one prospect who stands right between the two categories. Or, rather, in both, at least potentially.”

“A known power…and a known threat?” Fross chimed. “Both? That sounds dangerous.”

“I mentioned there is a surviving member of House Leduc,” Grusser said grimly. “Lord Sherwin keeps to himself, which in all frankness is the best thing I can say about him. I have nothing to prove it, otherwise I would hand him over to the Empire—or, could I contact them, even the Black Wreath—but it is an open secret that he is carrying on his family’s traditions. All of them.”

Trissiny scowled deeply. “You mean…”

“Aye, afraid so,” Eleny said with a worried frown. “You see why it’s a hardship, not being able to brush aside the nobility, here. Why no other noble House has tried to finish them off and seize their territory, when they’d normally be on two critically weakened Houses like vultures on a corpse. The last nobles in Veilgrad are the vampire…and the warlock.”


 

The carriages trundled back up the road to the isolated Dufresne manor in total darkness. Each had lanterns dangling from all four corners, old-fashioned wrought iron fixtures housing modern fairy lamps; they proceeded in their own moving island of cheerful light. It was dimmer in their interiors, which were illuminated only by small lamps that cast a faint but warm glow, just enough for their passengers to see one another. It would probably have been impossible to read by, had any of them been so inclined.

It was a quiet ride, at least for the first leg. Aside from being tired—and full—all of them were processing the various revelations of the day, and contemplating their next steps.

“They seem like such a perfect couple,” Teal said suddenly, breaking the silence. “They were so in sync.”

“Indeed, they appeared to be very much in tune with one another,” Shaeine replied, placing a hand over hers on the seat between them.

“I wonder why he doesn’t just marry her,” Teal said pensively. “Is…interracial marriage that taboo in the Empire?”

“Maybe. Dunno.” Ruda shrugged. “That’s not the issue, though, either way. It’s all about politics.”

“How so?” Trissiny asked.

“C’mon, isn’t it obvious?”

“Ruda,” she said flatly, “I know you are socially adroit enough not to say things like that by accident. You’re not Gabe. Is there a reason you wanted to make me feel stupid for not having your political education?”

“Aw, I didn’t mean it like that, Boots,” Ruda said, affectionately jostling her roommate with an elbow. “You’re right, I’m sorry; I’ve got some bad conversational habits. Nothing personal meant. On the subject, though… The political situation in Veilgrad in a nutshell is that the resident nobles are a menace and a hardship, the Emperor can’t remove ’em because of what it’d mean for the nobility everywhere, and the current acting governor needs to stay in place to keep this very uneasy population from outright revolting. So he can’t be replaced with another House. With me so far?”

“Succinctly put,” said Shaeine.

Ruda nodded. “Well, there’s a simple solution to all of this. If Lars Grusser marries into a House, Veilgrad would get new nobility, which would pacify the Houses, and he could remain in power, which would pacify the populace. He can’t marry Eleny; he has to hope for a political marriage. It’s sad, sure, but…that’s politics. It’s an old and not uncommon story. C’mon, Teal, I bet you know a bunch just like it.”

“Yeah…several of them are among a bard’s standbys.” Teal sighed, turning to stare at the darkened window. Thanks to the interior lights reflecting on the glass, they had virtually no view outside. Not that there was much to see, anyway. “I don’t favor tragedies, myself.”

Shaeine scooted closer and leaned subtly against her shoulder.

“That leaves out another party, though,” Trissiny said, frowning. “Suppose Malivette doesn’t want to give up power?”

“Malivette doesn’t have power,” Ruda said. “She’s only Duchess in name, and everyone knows it. Besides, Malivette strikes me as a weirdo even apart from the undead thing, but I didn’t have the impression she’s in any way stupid. She has to be aware of all this, if she’s not actively in on it. The fact she allows the matter to stand is basically a tacit endorsement of the idea. Unless, of course, there’s more going on that we don’t know.”

“That much is a virtual certainty,” Shaeine murmured.

They froze as a long, mournful howl echoed through the mountains. It hung in the air for long moments, eventually trailing off in a descending note. Moments later, it was repeated from another direction, and then more voices sprang up. Soon, the howls sounded from all sides, carrying on like an eerie choir.

“Wolves,” Teal said softly. “How pretty.”

“We’re prob’ly safe in here,” Ruda noted. “Very few animals will come near an undead. The horses are like…wolf repellent, I bet.”

“Those are not wolves,” Trissiny said quietly. She had twisted her belt when she sat, so her sword was in her lap rather than jabbing into the cushions; now she held its hilt tightly. “This city is in very serious trouble.”

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The design of the stagecoaches didn’t lend itself readily to passengers being able to see their destination. This was somewhat compensated for by the route they took; the road ascended out of Veilgrad into the surrounding hills—steep, tree-covered inclines that only barely deserved the term, as they were in the process of escalating into proper mountains. As no road could have traveled straight up these slopes, the path led back and forth around long switchbacks, giving periodic views of their destination from the carriages’ windows.

Glimpsed through the towering pines, the house was huge even from a distance. Three stories tall and surmounted by steeply peaked slate roofs behind decorative crenelations, it was built of the dark granite of the surrounding mountains, in a fairly plain pattern, appearing almost cubic. Only as they gradually drew closer did the ornamented style of its stonework become apparent. Nearly the entire surface of the edifice seemed to have been carved and engraved.

“So, we’re supposed to stay here and do something down there in the city, right?” Ruda commented, peering out the window.

“Seems probable,” Trissiny said tersely. “It’s hard to imagine a field assignment that would take place entirely inside that mansion.”

Ruda grunted, leaning back in her seat. “Gonna be a hell of a commute.”

Trissiny didn’t respond; neither did Teal or Shaeine, who sat opposite them. It was hard to counter the assessment. They had already been riding for a good twenty minutes.

The manor stood behind a wall of granite topped by rows of iron spikes; its main gate was of heavy iron bars. Eerily, it opened untouched at the approach of the stagecoaches. That actually was a not-uncommon enchantment, but something about the entire situation—the quiet of the mountains, the isolation, the looming presence of the dark mansion itself—lent a creepy atmosphere to even the relatively familiar.

Past the gates, a wide courtyard was built around a circle drive, on which the coaches pulled up near the front door. A simple obelisk of the same omnipresent dark gray granite stood in its center, weeds and shrubs sprouting from around its base. In fact, the greenery all around looked wildly neglected. Short trees and bushes were planted beneath the windows of the house and along the exterior walls; they were all badly in need of trimming. Moss and small ground covers grew in the cracks between the flagstones, and ivy was busily clambering up the front of the mansion itself. In only a few cases had it even been cleared away from the windows.

Their drivers attempted to politely open the carriage doors for them, but only Ruby succeeded; Ruda shoved through and bounded down before Jade could reach hers. The others followed more sedately, Teal pausing to smile apologetically at their driver, who returned an enigmatic little smile of her own.

In silence, the students gathered in a small knot on the gravel drive, staring up at the manor before them. It was oppressively quiet, lending an uneasy aspect to the scene. This was exacerbated by the unnatural stillness of the four black horses, which stood without so much as twitching an ear.

It didn’t last long.

Rafe drew in a deep breath and flung wide his arms.

“Yes, yes, we know,” Fross chimed in exasperation. “Behold, and so on. Honestly, Professor, you need some new material.”

He actually roared with laughter. “HAH! Excellent work, Fross! I’d slap you on the back if it wouldn’t knock you across the yard. Twenty points extra credit!”

“Thank you, but I don’t need any. Your classes aren’t hugely challenging.”

“Damn, pixie,” Ruda said approvingly.

“Okay, now, let’s keep it civil,” Rafe said, his jocular expression collapsing into a disappointed frown. “People do have feelings, you know.”

Several of the group jumped in startlement as the leading carriage started moving again, followed shortly by the second. Ruby and Jade had climbed silently back into their driver’s seats during the byplay, and now directed their undead beasts around the side of the manor.

“Something about this place,” Juniper murmured, hugging herself and rubbing her arms. “I get the weirdest sensation. Almost like it doesn’t want me here. Pressing on me.”

“The ambiance is a little gloomy,” Toby agreed.

“Not that,” the dryad said, shaking her head. “It’s… Some magic. Fae magic, I think, which is unsettling. I’m really not used to having that turned against me.”

“I think I see what you mean,” said Fross.

“You feel it too?”

“Not exactly, at least not until I went looking closely. There are really odd charms on all the windows and doors… Like partial summoning circles. It’s some kind of dimensional phasing. Hard to tell what’s behind them, but I think it’s some kind of ward. From your reaction, I’d guess a ward against fairies. You’re a much more powerful fairy than me, which probably explains why you can feel it and I can’t.”

“Why put a ward behind a dimensional phasing?” Teal asked, frowning.

“To ward against something in a different dimension,” said Trissiny, who was slowly moving her gaze over every inch of the front of the manor as if trying to memorize it. “Hum. We already know this Malivette is nervous about a certain other-dimensional threat. Are valkyries a kind of fairy?”

“That would be pretty strange,” said Teal. “I mean, they work for a god and apparently they scare dryads.”

“There’s not a lot of information written on valkyries,” Fross reported. “I checked. Just folklore and rumor, really. And hints that the Vidian cult discourages questions on the subject.”

“Aw, just look at you little goslings,” Rafe said, smiling fondly. “You’re so cute when you try to unravel mysteries!”

“I already miss Gabe,” Fross said with a sad chime. “He’s the only one I can talk about enchanting stuff with. I bet he’d be really interested in these phased wards; I’ve never even heard of such a thing before. Oh, uh, no offense, guys.”

“I miss my bunny,” Juniper mumbled.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Toby said soothingly. “Stew is probably spoiling him rotten.”

“Yeah, cos what that damn rabbit needs is more spoiling,” Ruda muttered.

Before that conversation could progress further—fortunately—the double doors in the front of the manor swung outward on creaking hinges, and two more women in the same expensive gowns stepped forth, placing themselves on either side of the doorway and bowing gracefully. Their dresses were exactly like the others, except in color; one was royal blue, the other white. The woman in blue had chestnut brown hair, unlike the two who had met them at the Rail depot, while her counterpart was shorter and slimmer than any of the others, her hair a darker honey shade of blonde.

“Welcome, guests,” they intoned simultaneously.

“Oh, let me just guess,” Ruda said, placing her fists on her hips. “Sapphire and Diamond, right?”

“It’s Pearl, actually,” said the woman in white, smiling at her with a hint of mischief. “But don’t feel bad. Everyone makes that mistake.”

“You must be fatigued after your journey,” Sapphire added diplomatically. “Not to mention bored; long travel has that effect. Please, come in. We’ll have refreshments and a comfortable place for you prepared shortly.”

“The Mistress is most anxious to meet you all,” Pearl said, still with a crafty little smile. “And to catch up with you, Professor.”

With that, both of them turned and stepped back through the doors into the shadows beyond, each with a sway in her hips that seemed more than necessary. Those dresses, they now revealed, were backless.

“Very weird,” Teal murmured. “Those gowns would be appropriate for a very fancy ball. How can they just be walking around in them at this time of day?”

“That’s the oddity that stands out most in your mind?” Trissiny said incredulously.

“Not by far,” Teal said, frowning up at the darkened doorway. “Seems the safest to remark upon, though.”

“Oh, you kids,” Rafe chided, swaggering off ahead of them. “What a bunch of nervous nellies. Come on, time’s a-wasting!”

“Did he just call us nellies?” Fross demanded as their professor vanished into the house. “What’s a nellie?”

“Just more Rafeism,” Toby said with a sigh. “It’s probably best not to pay him too much attention. Well, I guess we’re not going to learn anything standing out here.”

“I have a bad feeling about this place,” Juniper murmured as they started moving, all with more than a little reluctance. “I don’t think it’s just those wards, either.”

“It’s not just you,” Trissiny said, patting her on the back.

They filed inside and again clustered together, letting their eyes adjust to the dimness. It was an overcast day, but the interior of the mansion was still dark enough to be gloomy, not to mention somewhat spooky. The windows were completely swathed in heavy draperies on this side, and the only light came from flickering wall torches and iron chandeliers overhead, which bristled with candles. There wasn’t a single fairy lamp to be seen.

They were in a grand entrance hall—or one that would be grand if it were less dark and barren. Apart from the lack of light, there was no furniture or decoration, only the stark stone walls and the tiled parquet floor. At the opposite end of the long, towering room, a flight of stairs covered in blood-colored carpet rose to a landing about a story up, behind which loomed a wall mural depicting the manor itself on a moonlit night.

Once again, several of the students jumped, this time as the doors, untouched, swung shut behind them.

“Well, I feel like a jackass now,” Ruda muttered. “How did I fail to see that coming?”

Sapphire and Pearl paced forward from the positions they had taken at either side of the door, and now planted themselves flanking the foot of the stairs, where they turned and gazed at the students with politely blank smiles, hands folded demurely before them. Their positions were too eerily identical to have been anything but rehearsed.

Only then did they notice the creeping mist. It had only just begun to appear, but as the students fixed their attention on it, the fog began gathering on the landing, as if pouring in from the doors to either side. Rafe grinned madly; the rest of them clustered together, Ruda and Trissiny gripping their swords.

The mist began rising upward in a column, twisting slowly, a silent cyclone. It swelled, coalesced, and just as suddenly dispersed. Where the tower of fog had stood, there was now a woman.

She could almost have been beautiful, except for a gauntness to her aspect, as if she hadn’t eaten enough in weeks. Her cheeks were slightly hollow, her eyes set deep enough to look almost sunken. Her hair, though, was a glossy black, slicked back from her face, and her complexion a milky pale shade like alabaster. She wore a dress identical to those of the four women they had met thus far, except that hers was black, in a strangely matte fabric that seemed to drink in the light.

For all of that, she could have passed for human if not for her crimson eyes.

“So,” the vampire said coldly, glaring down at them. “This is the new crop of would-be adventurers from Last Rock.”

“Behold the future!” Rafe proclaimed, making a sweeping gesture as if to present the assembled students to their hostess. Ruda’s sword rasped faintly as she subconsciously pulled it an inch out of its sheath.

“Yes, yes,” Malivette drawled. “I will, of course, accord every courtesy to dear Professor Tellwyrn’s proteges, as agreed.”

“It’s a much greater fool than you who tempts Arachne’s wrath,” Rafe said solemnly.

Those blood red eyes narrowed to slits. “But you, Admestus. I think she will not be as protective of you. Indeed…perhaps by sending you here, the great Professor signals a desire to finally be rid of you? After what you did, I am astonished that you would have the temerity to show your face.”

Rafe strode forward till he stood between the students and the stairs, placed his hands on his hips and threw out his chest. “Hah! Dare to test your unholy powers against my magnificent science and general kickassery? Come forth, thing of the darkness, and be humbled!”

“Now, hang on a minute,” Toby protested.

“The bards for ages have sung a song of battle for just such a time as this!” the Professor proclaimed. “It goes thus: You wanna piece o’ me, sucker?!”

Malivette drew back her thin lips, revealing fangs that gleamed even in the dim light. Slowly, she raised her arms to her sides, fingers stiffened into claws, and a sourceless wind rose, dramatically ruffling her hair and gown.

“You,” the vampire hissed, “have made your last mistake, fool!”

Trissiny began to glow faintly, pulling her sword half-free. “Stop right there,” she ordered.

Malivette ignored her completely, launching herself forward. She flew—literally—down the staircase and struck Rafe head-on in a flurry of black fabric.

In the next moment, Trissiny’s glow subsided and she and Ruda both let their hands fall from their weapons, the whole group staring in bemusement as the professor and the vampire whirled around and around, both howling with delighted laughter. Rafe had his hands around Malivette’s slender waist, and twirled her in the air like a child.

“You blonde bastard, how come you never visit unless you’ve got business?”

“Oy, wench, some of us have jobs!”

“Oh, like you care about your measly paycheck.”

Their impromptu dance turned into a scuffle, punctuated by giggles and playful threats. Somehow, it ended up with Malivette in a headlock, having her skull vigorously knuckled.

“Ow! Ow! Not the hair, you savage, what’s wrong with you?”

She dissolved into mist, causing Rafe to stumble, and reappeared off to the side, smoothing back her hair with a dignified expression. The whole time, Sapphire and Pearl gazed on with amused little smiles.

“Okay, I think I’ve figured out what the theme of this trip is gonna be,” Ruda commented. “Shit that surprises me, but upon consideration, really shouldn’t.”

“All right, let’s get a look at you,” Malivette said cheerfully, smiling broadly at them. The fangs made it a less than comforting expression. “This is really the whole class? Must’ve been a dry year. I hear tell you’re a collection of seriously heavy hitters, though. Holy cats, that’s actually a dryad! I wasn’t willing to believe it.”

“My name is Juniper,” she said sharply.

“Juniper!” the vampire replied with gregarious cheer. “Welcome, welcome to my humble commode!”

“Abode, Mistress,” Sapphire corrected.

“I know what I said. I mean, you’ve seen this dump, right?”

“I think we do quite well at maintaining the grounds,” Pearl said archly, “considering there are only four of us.”

“You see what I have to put up with?” Malivette complained to Rafe, pointing at the two women. “Nothing but sass and contradiction, day in and day out.”

“You would be bored with only mindless drones to serve you,” Sapphire said with a smug little smile.

“Well, I do have to complement your taste, Vette,” the Professor said solemnly, stroking his chin as he made a show of studying the girls. “They are stupendously hot.”

“Hey, hey, don’t even think about it,” the vampire scowled. “Keep your grubby mitts off my stuff, Admestus.”

“I am shocked! Outraged! Aghast! I would never think of such a thing!”

“Think all you want,” Malivette said with a grin. “Just don’t touch.”

“You literally just said—”

“Oh my fancy fucking gods,” Ruda shouted. “Can we get on with whatever the hell this is, already?”

“Now, see what you made me do?” Malivette darted forward with preternatural speed, swatting Rafe upside the head. “Here I have guests standing around unattended while I deal with your horsewash. Ladies, gentleman, my apologies! Please, we have a cozy little spot prepared in the north drawing room. Come along, come along, make yourselves comfortable! It’s right this way!”

The whole group shied back as she suddenly exploded into fragments. Flapping, chittering fragments; the sudden swarm of bats swirled off toward one side of the great hall, streaming through a curtained doorway into the room beyon.

“Wh—how—why did—bats!” Fross stuttered. “Multiple transfiguration is—you can’t just do that! How did she do that?!”

“I don’t think many of the normal sort of rules are going to apply here,” Shaeine said quietly.

“This way, please,” Sapphire said, bowing to them, then turned and glided toward the same door, Pearl falling into step beside her.

“Come along, children!” Rafe called, sauntering off after them.

“So,” Trissiny murmured, “in addition to being a creepy undead abomination, she’s an awful lot like him. I was expecting the worst and I’m still unpleasantly surprised.”

“Ah,” Teal said carefully. “There isn’t a lot of lore on vampires, and much of it’s just hearsay, but I’m pretty sure they have rather acute senses. Let’s not talk down about our hostess behind her back.”

“Now, Teal, you’re not giving Trissiny enough credit,” Ruda said, grinning. “Trissiny doesn’t say anything behind people’s backs that she wouldn’t say to their faces. Right, roomie?”

“Right,” Trissiny replied flatly, then strode off after their guides. The others trailed along behind her.

Beyond was a smaller, much cozier room. It had furniture, for one thing—rather shabby old pieces, but better than bare stone. Threadbare rugs bedecked the floor, and best of all, there was a roaring fire, casting a pleasant orange glow across the room. A low table stood a couple of yards back from this, in the middle of a cluster of mismatched chairs, divans and one battered sofa. On it were plates of cookies and sandwiches and a steaming pot of tea. Ruby and Jade were already present, standing demurely off to the side; Pearl and Sapphire were just joining them as the students arrived.

Malivette stood with her back to them, staring into the flames and dramatically outlined by their glow.

“Please,” she intoned sepulchurally. “Sit. Be comfortable. We must now discuss…your fate.”

“Eh,” Rafe said, making a wobbling motion with his hand. “A little melodramatic, a tad overblown. C’mon, Vette, you’ve got better in you than that.”

“Ruby,” the vampire said, “go over there and punch him in the giblets.”

“Absolutely not,” Ruby said. “He’ll pinch my butt again.”

“Excuse me, you did what?” Trissiny snapped, glaring at Rafe.

“Lies!” he protested, rapidly retreating and placing the couch between himself and the paladin. “Scurrilous slander! This is all a plot to discredit the glory that is me!”

Ruby winked at them.

“This is downright disorienting,” Ruda complained, “the way this bounces between creepy and ridiculous.”

“Oh, fair enough, I suppose,” Malivette said, turning around and grinning again. “I pretty much never have company; forgive me for horsing around a bit. Gets restive being cooped up alone in unabated privacy with a harem of stunningly beautiful and fanatically devoted servants just eager to do every little thing that pops into I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten what my point was.”

“Allow me to move this along,” Rafe said, gesturing the students forward. “C’mon, kids, sit down, don’t insult our hostess. Ahem. As I said before, you now stand in Veilgrad—the most eeeevil place in the Empire!”

“That may be an exaggeration,” Malivette added, “but not by much. There have always been dark things lurking in this area—it’s wild land, deliberately kept that way by the Huntsmen who are the predominant religious force in the region.”

“Lovely,” Trissiny said sourly. She had unbent so far as to come stand next to the others as they slid into seats, though she remained on her feet.

“Creatures prowl these mountains that are not strictly natural,” Malivette continued, beginning to pace back and forth in front of the fire. “Howling things in the forest on nights of the full moon, slithering things that lurk beneath the streams… And, of course, the likes of what sank its fangs into me when I was seventeen, resulting in my current…predicament.” She paused in her pacing to smile at them, a bitter little expression quite unlike her previous grinning. “There are places in the world that are just like that, and no explanation for it, except maybe from the gods.”

“The gods are rarely eager to explain themselves,” Shaeine noted.

“This one’s got a good head on her shoulders,” Malivette said approvingly, pointing at the drow. “However, matters around Veilgrad have taken a rather abrupt turn for the menacing and mysterious in the space of the last few months. Hard to say when it started—I don’t get out much, as you can imagine—but I do pay a modicum of attention to what happens in my city, and things are beginning to unravel.”

“How so?” Toby asked. He had picked up a cookie but so far was just holding it. None of them were particularly hungry.

“The crux of the problem,” Malivette said, turning to frown into the fire, “is that the problem remains a mystery. It’s as if dozens of smaller things are just…cropping up. Whatever lives in the mountains is growing agitated, and aggressive; we hear howling nearly every night, lately, and people are starting to go missing from the forest with alarming regularity. Cults are springing up at an astonishing rate—there have been five in the last four months.”

“Cults?” Shaeine asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Little ones,” said the vampire. “Usually the Church and the Empire ignore such things. A few people wearing silly robes, sharing a clubhouse and a secret handshake; they only become troublesome when they start to gain people and prove they have a genuine deity.”

“Because,” Trissiny added, “in almost all cases the ‘deity’ in question turns out to be a demon or powerful fairy.”

“Exactly,” Malivette said, nodding. “But these…are chaos cults.”

“Wait…what?” Toby frowned. “Who worships chaos?”

“Morons,” the vampire said, turning to grin at him. “Which is why it’s very strange that so many keep arising. All joking aside, most of the population anywhere has more sense and self-preservation than that. Worse, every one of these has managed to perform some manner of necromancy before being shut down. I’m sure I needn’t tell you how inconvenient this all is for me. Guess who gets a visit from the Imps every time a necromancer so much as farts anywhere in the province?”

“How very sad for you,” Trissiny said flatly.

“It’s a great tragedy,” Malivette said solemnly. “Also, you know, the grave robbing and assaults. Those are inconvenient. Let’s see, aside from that… The Shadow Hunters have been getting more active. Usually they rear their heads three or four times a year, and never do more than prance around being arrogant. Lately, though, they keep turning up in town, and they’ve developed a bad habit of picking fights with the local Huntsmen.”

“Wait, what are Shadow Hunters?” Juniper asked.

“It’s some Shaathist offshoot sect,” Malivette said with a shrug. “Their doctrine of over my head and beyond my interest. All I know is they dislike the real Huntsmen, and vice versa. There’s been a dramatic rise in crimes of all kinds, everything from shoplifting to outright murder—it’s gotten so most people aren’t willing to leave their houses after dark. No unifying factor seems to be behind it. It’s just… Something has got its grip on Veilgrad. It’s growing worse, and it needs to be stopped.”

“So…how come you don’t stop it?” Ruda asked. “No offense, but you’re a pretty damn scary kind of a thing yourself. It’s hard to imagine any creepy crawly that’d be willing to take you on.”

“But that’s just it,” Trissiny said quietly. “There has to be fear and unrest already, with all this going on. If people know there’s a vampire living in the hills…”

“Hit the nail on the head,” Malivette said ruefully. “I’ve already have two honest-to-gods mobs show up at my gates. Torches, pitchforks, the works. Unfortunately, to make them go away I had to demonstrate exactly why none of that was in any way threatening to me, which has not improved my reputation. People are already lining up to blame me for the deteriorating state of things; if I throw my weight around any further, someone with the power to do something about it may decide to. And a scary thing I may be, but I find myself at a stark disadvantage against certain…kinds of foes.”

“Yeah,” Ruda said pointedly, “you seemed real alarmed by the prospect of meeting Gabe Arquin.”

“Yup,” the vampire said, nodding. “Him, and other things. I am really trying my best not to make any waves. If whatever is behind these problems rears up, believe me, I’ll be on it like a hawk. With it being in the shadows, though, I cannot afford to swagger around being all creepy and dangerous.”

“This is…a very strange pattern,” Trissiny said, frowning. “I know of several things that can have that effect…”

“Fairy magic can be used for emotional manipulation pretty easily,” Toby said, nodding, “and general infernal corruption makes people more aggressive. People, animals, whatever’s nearby. Those leave signs, though.”

Trissiny nodded. “If it were either of those…any method powerful enough to affect an entire city would create distinct traces. It would be easy to track.”

“And so, you know your problem,” Rafe proclaimed. “I’ve no doubt you kids can smack down any ugly that rears its head—you’ve just got to get it to rear before you can make with the smacking.”

“Bloody hell,” Ruda muttered. “It’s like Sarasio to the tenth power.”

“Should I have any idea what that means?” Malivette asked.

“What are our assets?” Trissiny asked. “Allies, potential positive forces we can work with?”

“Ah, yes, that’s a good question,” the vampire replied. “I’d recommend meeting with the local powers that be before you try doing anything, otherwise you’re likely to just cheese them off. Well, the local Universal Church chapter is kind of a non-issue; for whatever reason, they’ve responded to these events by vigorously backing down. Closing their facilities, moving personnel away… They’ve got what’s actually one of the Church’s oldest chapels in the city, but there are only a couple of parsons in residence, now, and they don’t even hold services most weeks.”

“That is very peculiar,” Toby commented, frowning in consternation.

“There’s also an Omnist temple,” Malivette continued. “I guess you of all people are in a good position to have a sit-down with them. Local worship is split pretty evenly between Omnu and Shaath. You’ll probably want to have a talk with the Huntsmen down at the lodge. They know more than anyone about what’s lurking in the hills and forests.”

Trissiny sighed heavily.

“There’s also the Empire,” Malivette said. “They’ve been responding to these problems by increasing their presence, opposite what the Church has done, but so far they’re being subtle about it. The local constabulary has been supplemented by Imperial Army patrols, which has helped matters, but they’re not leveraging their serious assets. And they’ve got assets. I know for a fact there’s at least one strike team stationed in Veilgrad as of last month.”

“They probably already know we’re here, then,” Ruda commented. “Tellwyrn wouldn’t send Juniper into a city of this size without notifying the Empire and getting the security arranged.”

“It’s not just the size,” said Teal. “Veilgrad has enormous historical significance; it was the first Tiraan conquest in the Stalrange, and the main staging area for the armies that took the rest of the region. It also does a lot of business. Mining, logging, furs, cattle ranching… Wow. The kinds of troubles you’re describing would shut a lot of those down.”

“They have,” Malivette said, nodding. “Lumberjacks and cowboys and miners have started refusing to go out and jack, cow and mine, now that more than a few of each have up and vanished. The economy is faltering, and that is adding all kinds of pressure to the mix.”

“This is definitely no Sarasio, then,” said Shaeine. “The Empire is already here, and watching; they cannot afford to lose the city, to anything. That could both raise the stakes and grant us some leeway, depending on how matters unfold.”

“There’s one other person you should visit before you do anything else,” Malivette said, grinning again. “The sort-of lord who quasi-administers the city and surrounding area. He’s in…an interesting position, legally. You won’t get far without his help, but his actual power is considerably less than most Imperial aristocrats have. It’s complicated; I should probably let him explain things himself.”

“What sort of man is this?” Trissiny asked.

“Oh, he’s a swell guy, you’ll love him,” the vampire said gaily. “And a great host! Or at least I hope so. He’s putting up your friend Gabriel, after all.”

There was a moment of silence, punctuated only by the crackling flames.

“Oh, gods,” Ruda groaned. “You mean, this whole time, Gabriel’s been talking with the guy in charge of the town? We’ll all be tarred and feathered by sundown.”

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9 – 2

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The Rail caravans slowed dramatically as they approached the interchange at Veilgrad. It was a complex system; the town was not overly large, but it was a hub, connecting Rail lines that extended west to Calderaas, southwest toward the Tira Valley and the capital, north into the Badlands and eventually the border of the dwarven kingdom of Vjarstadt, and northeast into the Stalrange itself. The interchanges between these lines demanded such precision that speed limits were considerably reduced for miles out from the station, and by the time caravans reached the town itself they were traveling no faster than the average horse-drawn stagecoach.

There had never been a collision between two caravans since the founding of the Rail network; its enchanters went to enormous lengths to ensure this. Though the fact was not widely known outside the Imperial bureau that administered the Rails, the device from which they had been developed was originally an experimental weapon. Using them as transportation had been a stroke of insight initially laughed at, its designers conceiving only one purpose for any object moving that fast.

Unlike the Wyrnrange far to the west, which rose gradually out of the plains by way of rolling hills growing ever steeper as they approached the peaks, the Stalrange ascended abruptly out of the flat territory at its edge. Eons ago, it had bordered an inland sea, and slightly less distantly in the past, a deep swamp. The Great Plains were formed of sediment from beneath those long-ago bodies of water. This fact, plus the unusual geographic feature on which it sat, had made Veilgrad a place of great strategic import for the entirety of recorded history. The town stood atop a long peninsular outcropping of stone extending into the plain and towering twenty yards above it. Once its walls had been completed, the ancient fortress city of Veilgrad had been considered nigh-impregnable, one of the best-defended locations on the continent.

That was then; this was now.

The city had long since outgrown its walls, and roads now tracked up into the surrounding mountainside, where little pockets of construction were visible amid the surviving stands of Stalrange pines, overlooking the old city from above. More spread out from the base of the peninsula, patches of younger urban sprawl slowly creeping across the plain. The Rail platform was surrounded by the largest of these, due west of the farthest tip of Veilgrad and facing its ancient main gate.

The caravan eased to a halt, its hatches hissed open, and Professor Rafe bounded nimbly forth, planting his feet widely on the flagstones of the large platform as if he expected to be blown down by an errant gust of wind. He placed his fists on his hips and drew in a deep breath, his thin chest swelling.

“Don’t do it!” Toby exclaimed, dragging himself out of the hatch with a little less grace, still off-kilter from the Rail ride. “Don’t—”

“BEHOLD!” the Professor roared, throwing wide his arms to embrace the Rail platform, the looming shape of Veilgrad beyond, and the several dozen people crossing the area. Nearly all of them stopped, turning to stare.

Veilgrad was an important city, but not a large one, and was so far from the center of Tiraan civilization that its name was a euphemism for distant, unsettled places. These were not cosmopolitan urbanites to be unfazed by the eccentric professor, as their stares indicated.

“You stand upon the precipice of Veilgrad,” Rafe boomed, turning his back to the onlookers and brandishing a fist at his disembarking students with a melodramatic grimace. “The most eeeevil place in the Tiraan Empire! Step carefully, my children, for you shall never again see such a wretched hive of… Oh, what’s the expression I’m looking for…”

“Scum and villainy?” Gabriel suggested, rubbing his lower back.

“Arquin!” Rafe exclaimed in horror. “You can’t just say that about a place, all these people can hear you! Honestly, boy, were you raised in a barn?”

Gabriel stared at him. “…this is gonna be the trip where I finally shoot you, isn’t it.”

“You have been brought here,” the Professor intoned, “to uncover the putrid perfidy at the very heart of the—oh, hey, our ride’s here! Form a line, kids, let’s be civilized about this.”

Most of the onlookers had already backed away or gone on about their business, but several were still watching the University party, none with friendly expressions. The students drifted together in a knot as they followed their professor toward the edge of the platform.

A matched pair of stagecoaches were just pulling up at the side of the road running past the outdoor Rail terminal. They were glossy, ostentatious things, lacquered a gleaming black with a crest embossed in a lighter shade of black—or a very dark gray—on their doors, barely visible and that only because it was a matte interruption in the gleaming finish. The device was a heavily stylized letter M, bracketed by laurels bristling with overlarge thorns. Each coach was drawn by two matched horses, all four coal-black and all groomed to a glossy shine. Altogether the vehicles were a portrait of wealth and grandeur straight out of the last century.

Each was driven by a lovely young woman perched on the driver’s seat, reins in hand. They didn’t look alike enough to be related, but both were clearly of the local Stalweiss stock, being tall, pale and fair-haired. Both were attired in expensive-looking gowns with high collars, which appeared to be of identical cut, though the one in front was red while her counterpart wore dark green. They smiled in unison at Professor Rafe as he approached, the woman in red lifting a hand to wave.

Trissiny, however, had come to a stop, staring at the coaches. Beside her, Toby did the same; Gabriel squinted as if unsure what he was looking at.

“What’s the matter?” Teal asked.

“Something’s weird about those horses…” Gabriel muttered, frowning. “I’m not sure… They give me this feeling.”

“Congratulations,” Trissiny said tersely. “Apparently paladins of Vidius have the ability to sense evil.”

“I sense no evil,” Shaeine said serenely. “Your reactions suggest, however, that they are somehow in opposition to your gods. Are they perhaps demonic?”

“Well, they aren’t moving,” Ruda noted. “They just stand. Real horses look…alive. Those could be stuffed.”

“Not demonic,” said the driver in the lead coach, smiling languidly down at them. “Undead. Don’t worry, students, they are entirely harmless; there is no contagious element in their condition, and they’re quite docile. Kindly refrain from throwing divine magic at them. They would be difficult to replace.” Her smile faded slightly as she finished the admonition, and she fixed her stare on Gabriel.

“Professor,” Trissiny said tersely, “what have you gotten us into?”

“Now, there you go, being rude again,” Rafe admonished. “And here we’ve only just arrived! Honestly, I can’t decide whether you kids needed more spankings or more hugs growing up. Ruby! Jade! It’s such a delight to see your lovely faces again! Ladies, it has been far too long, and for once I’m not referring to anything of mine.”

“Good morning, Professor Rafe,” the woman in green said with a smile that appeared quite genuine. “It’s good to see you again, too. The Mistress will be anxious to catch up.”

“All right, little ducklings, in you go,” Rafe said briskly, clapping his hands and rubbing them together. “Sort yourselves as you will; they’ll be a little roomy with just four each, but we can’t all crowd into one. Gabe, your coach isn’t here yet. You want us to wait and see you off?”

“Nah, you guys go on ahead,” Gabriel said absently, still staring at the chillingly immobile horses. An enormous horsefly had landed on the ear of one, eliciting not a twitch. Moments later, the insect tumbled off, lifeless.

“Whoah, hang on, what’s this?” Ruda demanded. “Why’s Arquin not coming with us?”

“A stipulation of our hostess, I’m afraid,” Rafe said solemnly. “You are all welcome in her house, with the specific exception of Gabriel. Did I not know better, I might think she’d met him at some point.”

Toby folded his arms. “Then I don’t believe we are welcome there, either. Or…I’m sorry, guys, I shouldn’t speak for you. But for my part—”

“Guys, guys!” Gabriel said, finally turning from his study of the horses to hold up both hands calmingly. “It’s okay. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you this; Tellwyrn’s orders. This isn’t a demonblood prejudice thing, the person we’re meeting actually has a pretty solid reason not to want me around. I… Ugh, I hate keeping you in the dark, but Tellwyrn was, you know, emphatic. As only she can be. You’re not supposed to hear about it till you get there.”

“Well, this is increasingly bullshit,” Ruda said acidly.

“I have a bad feeling about it,” Teal said, frowning. “Gabe…are you sure? If you know what’s going on, are we walking into a trap?”

“What utter nonsense,” Rafe huffed. “Our hostess is an alumnus of the University; she would never harm you. Would never have reason to, and even if she did, she knows firsthand what Arachne would do about it. You’ll be safe as houses!”

“The manor is one of the most secure and defensible structures in the entire province,” said the woman in red, presumably Ruby. “And the Mistress’s hospitality is second to none. We apologize for Mr. Arquin’s exclusion.”

“I don’t think I want to stay with someone whom one of our friends has to be afraid of,” Trissiny said flatly.

“That’s not it,” Fross said. “She’s afraid of him.”

There was a beat of silence, all of them turning to stare up at the pixie. Rafe rolled his eyes dramatically.

“Put it together, guys,” Fross continued. “She’s got undead horses and doesn’t want the Hand of the god of death on her property. It’s pretty obvious, right? This Mistress is undead herself. Haven’t several of the professors mentioned a vampire who was once a student at the University?”

“That does it,” Trissiny announced, folding her arms. “I believe I will stay wherever Gabriel is staying.”

“And this is exactly why you were not to be informed until you got there,” Rafe said in exasperation. “Honestly, kids, Malivette is just about the most cuddly person I know. Isn’t she, girls?”

“The cuddliest,” Jade said solemnly, her eyes sparkling with repressed mirth.

“But,” Rafe continued, scowling at Trissiny, “some of you are just bound to be on the defensive about her little condition. Because some of you are thoughtless and prone to making inappropriate snap judgments.”

“Hey,” Toby said, his voice quiet but firm. “Don’t glare at her; any of us with any sense would object to this. You are asking us to stay in the home of a vampire. Someone who, whatever her intentions, thinks of the lot of us as food. This trip is supposed to be at least a week, right? We’re expected to sleep in that place?”

“Um, point of order,” Fross chimed. “Ruda’s the only one who’s in the slightest danger from a vampire.”

“Everyone is in danger from a vampire!” Trissiny exclaimed.

“Well, not really, no,” the pixie said reasonably. “They can’t eat elves or half-elves, the inherent fae magic reacts badly with them. They can’t eat clerics or paladins; even trying would result in an automatic smiting from their patron gods. And they definitely can’t eat dryads or pixies.”

“Ain’t it a thrill to be me,” Ruda said fatalistically.

“Congratulations,” Gabriel said solemnly. “You now are in possession of the slightest glimpse of what my life is like. If you want to get even more insight, I could fucking stab you.”

“Children!” Rafe bellowed. “Enough! We are going to stay in the home of my dear friend and former student Malivette, for a variety of excellent reasons which I will explain when we’re no longer out in public creating a scene!”

“He’s getting onto us about creating a scene?” Juniper muttered.

“And if you fail to comply with this directive,” Rafe continued ominously, “I will toss my ass right back in that caravan, return to Last Rock and complain to Arachne that you little buggers are being difficult.”

“She’d make fun of you for that for the next ten years,” Teal pointed out.

“Yeah?” the Professor said smugly, folding his arms and smirking. “I’m sure that’ll make you feel better while she’s kicking your asses up and down the mountainside.”

“I hate every part of this,” Trissiny muttered, unconsciously gripping her sword.

“And if you didn’t make a point of hating half the crap you encounter, Avelea, somebody might care about that,” Rafe said, grinning.

“Guys,” Gabriel said soothingly. “I promise you, it is okay. Tellwyrn wouldn’t send us to someone who can’t be trusted, and I fully understand this Malivette’s concern, all right? All it would take is one little poke from a valkyrie’s scythe and she’d be dust; she’d never even see it coming. Wouldn’t you be worried about that?”

“I note,” Shaeine observed, “that it is you and not she who is being asked to extend trust in that regard.”

He shrugged. “That’s true, but come on. Is it really that unfair? She’s the one with the manor she’s letting us use, and an established life here. Well, unlife. Whatever.”

“Are you sure you’ll be okay on your own?” Toby said worriedly. “I mean…leaving you completely alone out here…”

“Oh, that’s very nice, thank you,” Ariel commented.

“Yes, yes, you’re great company,” Gabriel said soothingly, patting her pommel. “Particularly when you don’t talk. Anyhow, guys, you don’t need to worry about me.” He grinned smugly. “In fact, I might be the only one who’s gonna be put in better digs than you guys.”


 

“But why dragons?”

“There are several acceptable responses to receiving orders, Sergeant,” Captain Dijanerad said mildly, not slowing her pace. “None of them contain the word why.”

“Captain,” Principia said in a tone barely above a growl, “I have spent the last month vigorously drilling and training my squad as ordered. In keeping with our mandate we have been extensively studying the Church and its member cults so as to serve in a diplomatic capacity with other faiths. My girls have done a damn fine job, too, considering how little time they’ve had to work on it; I have every confidence that the High Commander will be pleased with our results. Or at least I would if we got to put that into practice. Instead, we’re apparently going to deal with dragons! Nobody knows how to do that! Why are we any better than any random squad?”

“Yes, yes,” Dijanerad said with a grin. “You’ve trained specifically in one field and are now being sent off to do a random task that has no bearing on your specialization. Welcome to the military, Locke.”

“Captain, permission to kvetch!”

“Denied. I think.” The Captain glanced curiously at her. “What is that, orcish?”

“Not exactly,” Principia muttered.

Dijanerad came to a stop, forcing Principia to follow suit. They were in an out-of-the-way intersection of the Temple’s halls, not far from the exit to the rear parade grounds around which the Ninth Cohort were bunked.

“Squad One has drawn this assignment,” the Captain said, “because I recommended you for it. I have, in fact, seen the way you’ve been training your squad, Sergeant Locke, and taken notice of your results. To be frank there was some initial disagreement among the cohort’s officers about whether you would take your position at all seriously, but that, at least, you’ve put to bed. Now it only remains to be seen how well the results will stack up in a real-world situation.”

“So we’re being sent into a real-world situation that has nothing to do with what we’ve trained for?”

“Locke, shut up. I’ve also taken note of the way you and your girls have been repairing your relations with the rest of the cohort, which is no small thing considering you went overnight from being the resident punchlines to having the much-coveted designation One. You can do diplomacy. The basic principles are the same whoever you’re dealing with, be they fellow soldiers, priests, or yes, dragons. I recommended you because I am confident that you can do this. The High Commander either things so as well or places a lot more value on my opinion than I thought, and frankly I suspect it’s the former.”

Principia drew in a deep breath and shook her head. “Veth’na alaue…”

“Watch it,” Dijanerad warned. “I’m a career soldier, Locke; I speak only Tanglish but I can cuss fluently in every dialect used on this continent. That is approaching a type and degree of obscenity I’d have to reprimand you for.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Principia said tersely. “Captain…with apologies for using the word again…why are Legionnaires being sent to deal with this at all?”

“They aren’t,” Dijanerad said, resuming her walk, “at least not officially or directly. The city’s only just come down from a state of alert; our word of what the dragons want is less than a hour old. We don’t know enough to make any detailed plans. But the bones of it is they’re establishing some kind of government and want to open diplomatic relations with the Empire. If that’s what they’re doing, the cult of Avei has an immediate interest in making similar contact.”

“I have a very hard time picturing dragons converting to Avenism, Captain.”

“There’s a lot more an organized religion can do with people than convert them, Locke. Besides, the Sisterhood is both a civil and military organization; we don’t have the option of ignoring the formation of what is sure to be another major world power. It makes sense to get on good terms with them if possible; the alternative would be a nightmare. And that’s all I have to say on the subject, because your specific orders are to present yourselves to Bishop Shahai, who will be heading up this effort, and my analysis of the situation is irrelevant. Hers is what you need to care about. Officially, on the books, you are to be merely her bodyguards; unofficially, she requested women who could be called upon to do more than a soldier’s duty in dicey political circumstances. That’s how you, in particular, ended up nominated for this.”

“Interim Bishop Shahai,” the elf murmured.

“You know very well how she is to be addressed while she’s doing the job, and once again you are flirting with insubordination. Bat one more eyelash in its direction and I’ll be obligated to rip it off your face and feed it to you, is that clear?”

“Clear, ma’am. They aren’t ready for this,” Principia said more quietly. “I don’t mean to sound insubordinate; I’m concerned for the state of the mission if it’s given to us. I have the highest opinion of the women in my squad, and of their skills, but the fact is we don’t have the experience for something of this magnitude. These stakes. Are there no more seasoned units available?”

“Yes,” Dijanerad replied, “but they have not been given this assignment. You have. These are your orders, Sergeant, and I have discussed them with you as much as I intend to, and this much only because your unique situation demands greater understanding than an average soldier needs to do her job. You need to not be in the habit of questioning orders this way, Locke; keep that firmly in mind next time you’re given a mission. You will assemble your squad and report to Bishop Shahai’s office at fourteen hundred hours; she will inform you of what she expects. For the duration of this assignment, which means until I tell you otherwise, I am placing you directly under the Bishop’s command.”

“Captain—”

“That will be all, Locke. Dismissed.”

They emerged into the courtyard, finally, and Dijanerad stopped and gave the sergeant a flat look. Principia saluted and said the only thing she could.

“Yes, ma’am.”

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8 – 25

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“Uh, yeah,” Juniper said, nonplussed. “We were all there when you got it.”

“No, I mean…” Gabriel let out an irritated sigh and nudged the sword with his hand. “Hey, c’mon. You’re embarrassing me.”

“He’s talking to his sword,” Fross stage whispered.

“If you’re certain this is a good idea.”

The voice was feminine, oddly resonant and actually rather pleasant, but it made everyone at the table lean back in surprise. Gabriel smiled smugly for a second, then his expression faded into awkwardness.

“So,” he drawled, “yeah. Belated introductions. Ariel, everyone. Everyone, Ariel.”

“I’m already quite well acquainted with them all.”

“That sword talks,” Juniper said, staring at it.

“And there’s that razor intellect for which you are so well known.”

“Hey!” Gabriel snapped, grabbing the hilt. “Be nice to my friends!”

“Of course. My apologies.”

“Yes, she talks,” he added, scowling, “and sometimes she’s kind of a jerk. She’s smart, though, and helpful.”

“How long, exactly, has this been going on?” Trissiny asked, staring at Ariel.

He sighed. “Presumably, she’s always been able to talk. I didn’t learn about this until after the battle this spring.”

“How long after?” she asked sharply.

Gabriel winced. “It, uh… The day everyone left campus. That’s when she started… Well, in fact, she sort of began lecturing me.”

“Surely you’re not going to contend that some lecturing was not needed.”

“That long?” Trissiny exclaimed, staring at him. “All summer?”

“It’s not like…” Gabe sighed again, planting an elbow on the table and leaning his forehead into his hand. “Okay, this is going to sound pretty dumb.”

“That’s okay!” Fross said reassuringly. “It’s never stopped you before!”

“Even the pixie is doing it,” Ariel commented. “You are truly the designated comic relief in this group.”

“Hush,” he said irritably. “Look, I wasn’t trying to keep this secret, okay? It’s just that… When I first found out, I sort of… Needed time to process. We talked a good bit, alone, and she helped me a lot with my magic. I mean, both my enchanting and getting to handle the divine. And the longer it went on, the harder it was to think of a reason to bring it up. I just… It wasn’t supposed to be secret or anything, it just turned into a vicious cycle where I couldn’t think of a way to say ‘hey, my sword can talk!’”

“There’s a method I like to use in situations like this,” Ruda said. “I’d say ‘hey, my sword can talk!’”

“Thank you, Ruda.”

“You got it, Arquin. Always here for ya.”

“She…helps you with magic?” Toby asked, peering quizzically at the sword.

“In fact, that is my primary gift,” Ariel said. “I require energy from the aura of a user to be fully active. Gabriel has a great deal of magic in his, but for most of the period after retrieving me from the Crawl—to which, I note, you have brought me back and which I will thank you never to do again—I did not choose to speak up because the power around him as predominantly infernal in nature. I would rather not have that gunking up my metaphysical works, as it were.”

“Wow,” Ruda commented. “Once you get her going, she really gets going.”

“Gabriel does not recall my first actual help to him, as he was in a hethelax fit at the time. It was during the battle of the hellgate; I altered the method by which his infernal aura manifested in berserking, allowing him to remain lucid and make conscious use of that power. I must say he did quite well with that, once it was done.”

“You enchanted him?” Fross exclaimed, aghast. “That’s incredibly dangerous! You could have killed him, or much, much worse!”

“Nonsense. Enchantment of sentient beings is dangerous because of the principle of recursive subjectivity, which does not apply to me. I am not a person; I do not have the psychology of a sentient being, and do not perform subjective mental processes. That is why I cannot do magic on my own, even when fully charged as I am now by long exposure to a powerful partner’s aura. I was able to make tweaks to Gabriel’s infernal power without risking damage to him precisely because I can apply spell effects using his own energy without being subjected to the irrational whims of his subconscious mind. This is what makes me a priceless aid to any spellcaster.”

“And so modest!” Ruda said cheerfully.

“So…you changed your berserking?” Teal asked, frowning at Gabriel. “You don’t lose control anymore?”

“Actually, no; she says it was just for the one time,” he replied.

“And we will not be doing that again,” Ariel added firmly. “That was a crisis. Meddling with infernal power under any circumstances is a last desperate resort to be employed only in the lack of any other options.”

“Well, she does seem to have sense,” Trissiny said with grudging approval.

“As Gabriel is an arcanist who now possesses a considerable wellspring of divine energy, dealing with the infernal at all is off the table.”

“Gabriel is the one making the decisions in this partnership,” he said sharply.

“Of course, but Gabriel does, thankfully, possess the rudimentary common sense to follow excellent advice when he hears it, which is why this partnership has been largely successful despite his lack of inherent wisdom.”

“I like this sword!” Ruda cackled.

“You want her?” Gabriel asked sourly.

“I would be wasted on a non-magic user,” Ariel said with clear disdain. “As I was saying, making deliberate use of infernal power is most unwise. In fact, I believe we may be able to access his new divine powers to cut off the berserking effect entirely, though he has been reluctant to experiment.”

“That would be some of that wisdom you say I don’t have,” Gabriel snapped. “All right, that’s my thing on the table. Who’s next?”


 

“There really wasn’t much more to it, after that,” Merry said, her eyes on the steaming teacup she held in both hands. “The magistrate really chewed me up one side and down the other… But in an odd way, I think he had a soft spot for cases like mine. Anyhow, he didn’t throw the book at me; once he got done explaining what a dumbass I was, he made a pretty serious pitch for the Legions. The actual sentence for the trouble I caused would’ve just been a couple months in a cell, but he seemed to think this was what I needed to get over some of my more silly ideas. By the time he was done talking, I couldn’t really argue, so…here I am.”

She shrugged, took a sip of tea and set the cup down again. “I was gonna go off and save the world, you know? Or at least a village or something. Glory and riches, maybe a handsome prince, and generally not get stuck grinding myself down to a numb little lump of coal in pointless, menial jobs the way both my parents did. I was a stupid fucking child, is all.” She finally raised her eyes to look at them. “And…that was the last time I really liked myself. Here… It’s all about keeping my head down, doing the work, not making waves. Honestly, on a twisted level I’ve been enjoying being put upon by Syrinx. That was… There’s something noble about having an enemy who’s actually evil.”

“Words like ‘evil’ are tricky,” Principia said quietly. “I’d be careful about throwing that around. Most enemies are just people who have their reasons.”

“And this one?” Merry asked flatly, turning to stare at her.

Principia grinned. “No, I think you’re right. She actually is pretty evil. Just…general advice. I’m the boss now, I have to say stuff like that.”

“Well, apparently I’m still a stupid child at heart,” Merry said with an answering smile, “so maybe I have to listen to it.”

“I sort of get where you’re coming from.” Farah shifted in her seat when they all turned to look at her, but continued. “I was an acolyte at a Nemitite temple, and…I really loved it. I felt called to it. Honestly, after my enlistment is over, I think I’ll probably go back there. But… I was studying under Aleesa Asherad, who was the first victim of the priest killer last year.” She lowered her eyes. “You can’t imagine what that was like. Aleesa was one of the best people I ever knew. Intelligent, but also wise, and such a good teacher… It completely shattered us, all of us. It was like the whole temple lost its heart. And I…” She gulped, grimacing. “Well, I had a crush on this guy, and I tried to, uh, turn to him for comfort and got rejected. That was the excuse I used to leave the temple… But the truth was, I was just afraid. It was supposed to have been a safe place. How could something like that just happen? I…felt weak, and helpless, and didn’t want to anymore. I actually tried to join the Thieves’ Guild.”

“You what?” Casey exclaimed in surprise.

Farah smiled bitterly. “Yeah, well, who’s less afraid than the Eserites, after all?”

“Eserites feel fear the same as anyone else,” Principia noted. “We just turn it into motivation.”

“Is that doctrine?” Farah asked curiously. “Because Bishop Darling said almost exactly the same thing.”

“So you went to Darling?” Principia asked.

“Yeah… He paid for a really good shrine for Aleesa at the Temple of Vidius. I don’t even know why, but it made me think of him. He, uh, was very tactful, but he rather strongly suggested I was not a good fit for the Guild. But he did point me at the Legion.” She gazed thoughtfully into the distance. “And you know something, he was absolutely right. I…like this. I don’t plan to spend my whole life at it, like I said, but… I don’t feel afraid anymore. I feel strong. I know there are things in the world that I can’t begin to fight, but the Legion’s taught me how to stand up and fight, win or lose, if it needs to be done. I already got what I needed from my enlistment, and I’m very willing to give my all to Avei in exchange.”

She stopped, staring fiercely around at them. Merry raised her eyebrows in mild surprise, but the others smiled back.

“Well,” Principia said after a moment. “I guess that leads us to the ones we’re all really curious about.”


 

“It was at the battle,” Toby said, staring down at his folded hands. “At the worst part. I didn’t know where anyone was, I thought Triss had been killed… I was alone, demons were coming at me, and…I snapped. I was so angry. I let it out at them with sheer divine magic.”

“With the greatest of respect to your pacifism, Toby,” Shaeine said with a gentle smile, “I cannot think of a more understandable reaction in that situation.”

“It’s not that,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s… I felt the light blaze up in me, in a way I’ve never felt it before. So much… It seemed like it filled the whole sky. Like once I called on it, I wasn’t even in control anymore. Just for a moment, though. And when it faded…they were gone. All of them. Dozens, just…vaporized. Reduced to ashes.” He closed his eyes. “In two seconds I destroyed dozens of sentient beings.”

Gabriel reached over to place a hand on his shoulder.

“I know you guys have been worried about me,” Toby continued, opening his eyes again, but still looking downward. “In class, I have not been doing well making things out of light. It’s just… I can’t stop seeing that. My power, used to kill and destroy. Ever since, I’ve felt this…loathing. When I try to touch the light, part of me runs away from it. I don’t know what to do.”

“Have you spoken to Omnu about this?” Trissiny asked quietly.

“Of course,” he said, looking up at her. “It’s… I don’t know how it is with you and Avei, but under most circumstances, Omnu doesn’t communicate with me in words. That requires a ritual, which requires a sacred space… Well, generally, I can feel him there, and he’s a kind of emotional presence. When he wants to express something, it’s just these washes of feeling through my mind. It’s very…well, it’s beautiful, generally. But with this… All I get from him is comfort. Calm. A sense that it’ll be all right. And I don’t know how he can think that. I feel awful, because it’s so stupidly selfish to make such demands of one’s god, but it’s like…he won’t offer me what I need.”

“Gods, as a rule,” said Shaeine, “when they offer help or communication at all, do offer what we need. When what they give is in conflict with our expectations, it is not generally they who are wrong.”

“I’ve thought of that, too,” Toby said, grimacing. “I just feel…stuck.”

“Toby,” Trissiny said with a thoughtful frown, “did you feel burned at all, when you flared up at the demons?”

“No,” he said, frowning in response. “In fact, I thought that was odd. It was a huge amount of power. It should have burned me, at least a little.”

“It should have utterly incinerated you,” she said. Toby blinked at her in surprise. “I know that spell, Toby, though I’ve never heard of an Omnist cleric of any kind using it. The divine nova is… Well, you know what it is, you were there. Had you done that in a crowd of people rather than demons, it would have healed everything any of them suffered, right down to any scars they had. Two Hands of Avei have died doing that.”

“Died?” he whispered.

“It has to do with the nature of our faith, and of Avei’s support,” she said seriously. “It’s more power than any mortal can safely channel. Avei’s power is granted to us as a weapon, but only in proportions that mortals can bear. To call on her as…as magical artillery, that’s a tremendously serious thing. She has not forbidden it, but given us doctrines warning against such reliance on sheer firepower, and imposed a steep price if it is to be called upon. Only a Hand or a high priestess even has the right to make that request, and she knows, in so doing, that she is offering her life in exchange for calling down the goddess’s wrath upon her enemies.”

“Boots, I know it’s been a while since I’ve made fun of you for it,” Ruda commented, “but I feel it’s appropriate here to state that your religion is fucked up.”

Trissiny glanced at her and sighed before turning her attention back to Toby. “The point is, it’s not just Avenists who have used that spell. Salyrite clerics have also managed it, but Salyrene has different rules. She simply won’t do it under the majority of circumstances, but when she does, it’s using her clerics as a focal point while also protecting them. They always came away unharmed.”

“So…” Toby frowned deeply. “Wait. You’re saying…”

“I am saying,” she replied, “you did not kill those demons. Omnu did.”

There was quiet around the table for a long moment. The sounds of talk, laughter and clattering dishes from the Visage’s other patrons washed over them, leaving no impression.

“That can’t be,” Toby whispered. “Omnu is peace. Omnu is life.”

“They were demons,” Teal said quietly.

Toby shook his head stubbornly. “That shouldn’t matter! Omnu has used his power to defend against demons, but that kind of aggression…”

“What, exactly, is involved in getting an actual conversation with Omnu?” Gabriel asked, tilting his head.

“Well… The ritual itself isn’t too hard. It just needs to be performed at a major temple. It’d have to be the one in Tiraas, there aren’t any others of sufficient importance to the faith on this continent. I would have to have the use of the main sanctuary to myself for a few hours. I really hate to create that kind of imposition to others of the faith…”

“Honestly, man, I think you really need to do that,” Gabriel said seriously. “Aside from the fact that this is bothering you… Even not being Omnist, I get where you’re coming from. This looks like weird behavior from him. If you’re gonna be his Hand in this world, you need to understand what he’s doing, especially when he’s using you to do it.”

“I suspect that monks at the temple will not begrudge you its use,” Shaeine added.

“For what it may be worth,” said Trissiny, “different rules apply to demons. Against demonic forces, ‘no quarter’ is considered acceptable terms of engagement for both the Silver Legions and most mortal armies.”

“Yes, yes,” Ruda said, rolling her eyes. “Grr, smite, stab…”

“Knock it off,” Trissiny said curtly. “The reality is you generally can’t take demons prisoner. They are psychologically incapable of behaving, for one thing; in the rare event they will even try to surrender, they don’t stay that way for long. They’ll attack the moment they get a chance, and often before there’s a reasonable chance; it’s like they just can’t stand not fighting. Also, mortal forces simply cannot properly care for them. It takes a warlock to keep a demon on the mortal plane in anything like good shape, and most warlocks banish their familiars back to the infernal plane when not using them precisely because it’s difficult. Our healing is lethal to them; many species can’t even eat the food in this dimension. There are two which are known to be allergic to water. Killing them is not only the sole possible response, it’s generally the only mercy we can offer their kind.”

“That may all be true,” Gabriel muttered, “but it still has disturbing overtones.”

“I never claimed it didn’t,” Trissiny said grimly. “It’s not as if we long for combat with demons, Gabe. If Avei’s forces had our way, they would just stay in their realm, where they belong.”

“That’s…actually sort of good to know,” Teal said quietly. She fell silent when the others turned to look at her, but Shaeine squeezed her hand encouragingly. “It…I… From the same battle… I gave Vadrieny full freedom to fight. However she needed to.”

“Oh,” said Fross. “Ouch.”

“Yeah,” Teal said glumly. “It… Well, it was a hell of a thing. Pun not intended. She… One guy actually tried to surrender. He was dead before he finished getting the word out. I mean, I understand war, but that’s…y’know…murder. I had to watch it from very close.”

“Teal,” Trissiny said quietly, “based on what Vadrieny knew of the hellgate, she has intact general knowledge of demons?”

“Yeah, I see where this is going,” Teal said, “and yes…she’s said sort of what you did, that demons can’t be trusted to surrender. I… Well, I wasn’t sure how much credence to give that. She didn’t explain it in detail the way you did, and… She’s been pretty offended that I have a hard time with it. It’s hard having a relationship like this, see? We can’t lie or keep secrets. It’s very intimate, but it’s really dicey when there’s any kind of intractable conflict.”

“Can I make a suggestion?” Trissiny asked.

“Um,” Ruda said pointedly.

“Please,” said Teal, nodding at Trissiny. “I respect your opinion.”

Trissiny nodded in return. “Well, I’m sorry to have to say it, Teal, but in this case, my opinion is that you haven’t been very fair toward Vadrieny.”

“…okay, that’s not what I was expecting to hear,” Gabriel admitted.

“I don’t mean just this, the difference of opinion about the demons,” Trissiny went on. “From what she said to me, that night on the lawn… Vadrieny has gone to great lengths and bent over backward to accommodate you and your way of thinking, which is inherently alien to her. And really, that makes perfect sense, considering you have to live on this plane, in mortal society. But…have you done anything to tend to her needs?”

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean,” Teal said a little stiffly.

“I’m not talking about demonic stuff,” Trissiny said quickly. “Obviously, no, it’s best not to get her involved in anything like that. But Teal…she’s a warrior. I know how you feel about violence, but take it from someone who knows… If you have the skill and the inclination to fight, sometimes the best way you can express your care for the people you love is to defend them. And let’s face it, we all lead interesting lives. We can all do with some defending from time to time.”

“What are you suggesting?” Teal asked.

Trissiny smiled. “Well… You’ve been practicing with us, learning to use martial arts to fight without inflicting harm. When we’ve fought in our various adventures, Vadrieny has always been careful not to hurt anyone…I mean, before the hellgate, anyway. Isn’t there grounds for a compromise, there?”

“You want to train the archdemon?” Gabriel asked, his eyebrows shooting upward.

Trissiny shrugged. “I’m actually not sure how… I mean, she could seriously hurt someone. But… What if we taught her to fight, too? I’ve seen her fight, it’s all slashing and screeching. I’ve had the thought more than once that she doesn’t retain much of your muscle memory.”

“Boy, is that the truth,” Teal said, grimacing.

“I think this is actually a really good idea,” said Toby, looking more animated. “It’s a way to let Vadrieny be herself without bringing her into conflict with the demands of mortal life. And that can only be good. She deserves to be appreciated and accepted, too, and to be able to express her own nature.”

“Yeah, but how?” Ruda asked. “Boots had the right of it. Training in any kind of martial arts involves some inevitable injuries. In her case, that would almost certainly make someone extremely dead.”

“Um.” Juniper raised a hand timidly. “I could spar with her?”

Everyone turned to stare at her.

“That would sort of help me, too,” the dryad went on. “I don’t have anybody I can safely spar with, for the same reason. I watch you guys practicing, and I really get the feeling all my exercises aren’t giving me the same level of experience you get. Also, Professor Ezzaniel kind of harps on that.”

“That leaves us with the same question of how, though,” said Fross. “Sure, you’re in no danger from any kind of demon, but… If she so much as touches you, poof.”

“A countermeasure could be arranged,” Ariel chimed in. “At issue is that Vadrieny’s physical form is a manifestation of infernal magic and would be nullified by contact with the dryad. I’ve not heard of this specific measure being exercised to protect a demon—I’m sure I needn’t explain why—but there is a precedent of using the Circles of Interaction to do similar, preventing the annihilation effect without actually augmenting the power being protected. It’s difficult magic, though, and as I said, there are no standing measures to use it specifically for the infernal…”

“Bet you anything Tellwyrn could work something up,” Gabriel mused.

“She probably would, too,” Ruda added. “It’s explicitly for educational purposes, right? If nothing else, we could go to Ezzaniel first. Bet he’d be fuckin’ delighted to be able to get these two into the ring. He’ll pitch the idea hard.”

“Guys,” Teal said quietly, tears glistening in her eyes despite her broad smile, “thank you. So much. From both of us.”


 

“I had a bad feeling about it from the beginning,” Casey said, shaking her head. For all the difficult nature of her story, she seemed totally calm. “I mean… That night. Even when she was offering to sponsor me, I was seeing her running Andy through. He was seventeen, and no threat to her, and she just put a sword in him and grinned like she was having the time of her damn life. All three of the other Bishops, being sane people, ripped into her over that, and she shrugged it off like they were being melodramatic or something. Yeah, I knew going in that Basra had something truly rotten in her core, but she was offering me a way out. The Church had my family; the Empire had managed to get custody of us kids, but… Everything was up in the air and it was looking very likely that everyone I ever knew was going to be imprisoned for the rest of their lives, at least. As a Legionnaire, I could gain some credibility, save myself, and maybe work toward getting some of the others out.” She shrugged. “I guess with my upbringing, I’m sort of predisposed to be willing to make deals with devils. Basra Syrinx just might be the most dangerous thing I’ve ever had to contend with, though.”

“Well,” Merry said after a short silence, “that really puts things in perspective for us, I guess. It’s just, it’s a hell of a thing, Elwick. You get that, right? Nobody expects to find they’ve been bunking with a warlock.”

“I am not a warlock,” Casey said firmly. “The Wreath does not teach kids to use infernal magic; they go to great lengths in legacy families to keep the young ones away from it. I know what it feels like—that’s how I warned Basra that night in her house when the Wreath attacked—but that’s it. Nothing proactive until you’re old enough to have self-control, and then they teach slowly. The point of a good infernal education is to ensure you can do everything safely before moving on to the next thing. Children would just kill themselves; it’s a path that doesn’t allow for mistakes. Honestly, the Black Wreath are just about the only people who do handle the infernal professionally. Even the Strike Corps, even the Church’s holy summoners, have a lot of attrition from accidents. The Wreath can’t afford to be so sloppy.”

“See, this is leading into the thing I think we’re all concerned about,” Principia said. “I am still a member in good standing of the Thieves’ Guild. Szaravid is still a Nemitite at heart. Are you still Wreath, Elwick?”

Casey drew in a deep breath and let out a sigh. “I’ve spent a lot of time thinking specifically about that very thing. What I keep coming back to is that this experience, Basra aside, has been the best thing for me. I grew up with one religion; I’ve spent the last few months surrounded by what could be considered the opposite religion. I’ve heard them both rail against the evils of each other, and heard the absolute sincerity in it. In this position, I can kind of see where both have points, and where both are wrong.” She shook her head. “I don’t think I could ever be Wreath again. I’ve just got too many questions. It wasn’t all bad; Elilial’s ways are all about cleverness, and let’s face it, if it wasn’t for that I’d be as deep in Syrinx’s thrall as poor Covrin is right now. But there’s a strength, a sincerity to Avenism… It’s hard to put into words. Hearing the priestesses talk about justice, though, I have no trouble understanding why people believe. I don’t know what I am, girls, but I’m gonna figure that out. And I’m pretty sure no religion owns all the answers.”

There was quiet at the table while they digested that. After a few long moments, Ephanie cleared her throat.

“Well… Unless you have more to say, Elwick?” Casey shook her head. “Right, then. That’s about as good a segue as I could ask for. Well, I was raised in an Avenist temple, obviously. Joined the Legions at sixteen. I was a Lieutenant upon being dishonorably discharged.”

“What’d you do?” Farah asked, then clapped a hand over her mouth. “Um. Sorry. I just…”

“It’s okay,” Ephanie said with a bitter little smile. “To answer the question, I fell in love.”

“They kick you out for that?” Merry asked.

“Pretty sure it’s the circumstances,” said Principia. “Which we’ll find out, if you’ll all shut up.”

“Thanks, Sarge,” Ephanie said wryly. “I… Okay, I’m not going to go into the details of my courtship, that’s not really germane. But yes, he was a Huntsman of Shaath. Quite aside from the insult this was to the Sisters…” She trailed off, lowering her eyes and frowning.

“It’s okay,” Principia said after a moment. “I was serious before, Avelea, we do all need to have this out, but you take what time you need.”

“Women are like pets to them,” Ephanie continued after a moment. “Just…exactly like that. Expected to be decorative, and useful. Women offer and receive affection, but… We aren’t equals. Not truly people. As a Huntsman’s wife, I was subordinate. Expected to be obedient. To kneel at his feet, do whatever he ordered…be patted on the head when I pleased him and whipped with a belt if I didn’t.” She swallowed heavily, painfully. “And I loved it. Everything about it felt so right to me. It was like I was only just discovering who I was. A pet. I loved it so much I was willing to turn my back on everything I had been raised to honor. It was…who I was. Am.”

“Okay,” Merry said. “That is seriously—”

“Everyone at this table,” Principia interrupted, “should think very carefully before passing judgment on anyone else.”

“That…is completely correct,” Merry said, flushing. “Sorry, Ephanie. I will be shutting up now.”

Ephanie shrugged, still wearing that dark little smile. “Well, I can’t say you’re wrong. It’s pretty messed up, isn’t it?”

“Humans,” Principia said, shaking her head.

“Excuse me,” Casey said, “what was that just now about making judgments?”

“Well, I’m sorry, but human cultures have this thing about sexuality that still boggles my mind after two centuries,” Principia replied. “Some people are submissive by nature. I don’t get why that is such a challenging thing for Avenists to wrap their heads around when they’re all up in arms about how women shouldn’t be judged if they happen to be gay.”

“In the end, that was exactly the problem,” Ephanie said, nodding. “Some people are submissive. I… Well. The problem is, according to Shaathist doctrine, all women are. And that is a lie. It started to fall apart for me, almost immediately. Being alone with Feldren, I could truly enjoy the way our relationship was, but all those other women there… They’re constantly trying to bring in women, you know. Not just because Huntsmen aspire to have multiple wives and they need that gender imbalance, but because women leave. Because most women just are not designed that way. It’s not hugely unusual—a lot of women get by just fine in the cult of Shaath—but it is most definitely not intrinsic. Girls raised in the cult are just… If they don’t naturally fit the mold, they have every spark of life beaten out of them so they’ll be good, dutiful wives some day. That, or they run. It got to the point where I couldn’t get away from it. Even alone with my husband…the reality of what I was doing was there. By being there, by allowing myself to be this trophy, the tamed Legionnaire they held up as an example to all the others, I was complicit. I couldn’t live with myself that way.”

She sighed deeply. “And, in the end, I figured out that my own marriage was totally imbalanced. He never… It was so important to me. To give myself over to someone so completely. It was a huge intimacy, a huge gift… And Feldren never truly appreciated it. To him, that was just what a woman was; there was no inherent significance in it. He loved me, sort of, but the way one loves a prized possession. I wasn’t his partner… Not even his lover, not truly. I was deeply valuable to him because having won me, he proved his manhood beyond what most Huntsmen could ever hope.”

Ephanie paused to take a sip of her mostly cooled tea. “Well. Getting out wasn’t terribly difficult. I went to a temple of Avei, spilled the whole thing out to the head priestess. She didn’t even lecture me; Avenists are big on responsibility, and making it known you understand exactly how you screwed up goes a long way toward getting back in their good graces. Anyhow, religious incompatibility is grounds for unilateral divorce under both Universal Church doctrine and Imperial law. I didn’t know where to go or what to do with myself, but the priestess took me back to the main Temple, arranged a sit-down with the High Commander, and got me re-enlisted. My record is wiped out—the black mark of my leaving is gone, but I also have to start at the bottom of the ranks. And let’s face it, even with me officially forgiven, it’s going to be a very hard road, earning back the trust of the Legions after what I did. But…if they’re willing to have me, I’m willing to do it. So…here I am. A little sadder, a little wiser, and moving on.”

She turned to meet Casey’s eyes. “And I entirely understand what you were talking about, Elwick. Having been through two opposing cults, I see now why Avei’s teachings are important, in a way I never did, having taken them for granted growing up. But I also see how the Sisterhood is not right about everything. For all their talk about women being free to make choices, they come down hard on any choice that doesn’t fit their worldview. It’s…an interesting place to be. I’m not sure where or how I’m going to end up, honestly. But for now, I’m here, and I feel like I’m…sort of okay.”

“We’re all here,” Principia said firmly. “And we’re in this together. And for my part, knowing where all of you come from, who you are… Hell, you’ve more than earned my trust.”

“Likewise,” said Merry, then grinned. “And I can’t help noticing that we do have an interesting selection of skills and backgrounds, here. Not every Squad One is anything impressive, but girls, I do believe we can make that list.”

“Oh, we will,” Principia said, grinning. “I absolutely guarantee it.”


 

“It’s just…all my fault,” Juniper sniffled. “I ruin everything.”

Jack, for a wonder, was nuzzling affectionately after, rather than lunging (again) for the mushrooms or trying to escape. She held the jackalope close, running her fingers through his thick fur.

“I am concerned, Juniper,” said Shaeine gently, “that your feelings of guilt are leading you to blame yourself for everything.”

“Shouldn’t I be blamed?” Juniper said miserably. “I killed that poor guy for the stupidest possible reason, and now I’ve destroyed my own sister because I was dumb and careless and thought I could do something I couldn’t. I’m such a—”

“Stop it,” Trissiny said firmly. “June, Mother Narny used to tell me, ‘guilt asks who made the mess; responsibility asks who’s going to clean it up.’ I think that’s very good advice, which you should consider, here.”

“But I feel so awful,” Juniper whispered.

“Your sister’s hurting,” Gabriel said, reaching over to squeeze her hand, then jerking back when Jack twitched forward as if about to lunge. “But Triss is right. Look, we’re your friends, okay? When you hurt, we’re right here with you. We’ll do whatever we can. But…don’t make the pain your whole world, all right?”

“Learn the lesson,” Shaeine said, nodding. “Do not repeat your mistake. Let yourself heal, and go on to do better.”

The dryad sighed. “How, though?”

“Ain’t gonna be done in one conversation,” Ruda said. “Arquin’s right, doll; you’ve got us. Your’e not in this alone. And I’ll tell you somethin’ else, Aspen is gonna be fine.”

“How?” Juniper demanded. “How is she possibly going to be fine?”

“Because Tellwyrn is working on that.” Ruda grinned. “Let’s be honest, here. Arachne Tellwyrn is a stubborn, crotchety, pushy, disagreeable, vindictive, conniving old goat who has the social skills of a dragon with diarrhea and three toothaches, but she is fucking good at what she does. More to the point, underneath all the bitchiness, the old bag cares. It doesn’t come out all that often, but we’ve all seen by now how hard she works to take care of people who need it. There’s real love buried somewhere in that cranky little package, not to mention more power than anybody could possibly know what to do with. If she’s on this, then Aspen couldn’t possibly be in better hands.”

Several of them wore smiles by the time Ruda came to the end of her speech. Finally, Juniper managed a watery one herself.

“So,” she said, looking around at them. “Are we okay, then?”

“Well,” said Toby, leaning his arms on the table and smiling, “guys, I have to apologize, but I’m about to say something paladiny. Ruda, try not to laugh.”

“I make you no promises, Caine.”

“Life isn’t about being okay,” he said more seriously. “Much of the time…you just can’t. The world is full of suffering, and unpredictability, and a lot of getting by means coping with the bad. Life, in the end, is about knowing how to be okay, and working toward it.” A warm smile bloomed on his face. “And in the end, we’ve got each other. We’ve all got our supports outside this group. We will be okay, somehow, and for now, that’s enough.”

“Aw,” Fross gushed. “That was really paladiny.”

“Thanks,” Toby said, grinning up at her.

“Even though that’s not a word.”

“Is now!” Gabe said cheerfully. “I appreciate the example, Toby. I need to work on being more paladiny.”

“Work on being less demony, and you will be halfway there.”

“Do you wanna go back in the sheath?”

“Yes, please. I’ve been sitting in a puddle of some kind of mushroom-derived alcohol for half an hour. For the love of all gods past and present, wipe me off before putting me away.”

“Well, that’s that sorted, then!” Ruda said brightly, brandishing her bottle of rum as if in a toast. “On to the fun part of the evening! Who wants pork and mushroom stew?”

Everybody groaned.

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Both elves leaned back, straightening, and Mary gently trailed her fingers through the puddle between them. It was hardly uncommon to find standing water on the rooftops of Tiraas; they’d not had to look hard to find a suitable location, no farther in fact than the inn in which Sheyann was staying, though both had employed a little shamanic skill to ensure their impromptu scrying mirror wasn’t disturbed by wind or rain.

More skill had been needed to ensure that they weren’t disturbed. Scrying was arcane craft; the degree of ability and power in the fae arts that enabled it was enough to bring curious people sniffing about if they were detected. Some of those people would come wearing silver gryphon badges.

“I still cannot believe you left the hook for this in the High Commander’s office,” Sheyann said at last, shaking her head. “If she learns of it, there will be trouble that may task even you. The Sisters of Avei are not the Tiraan Empire.”

“If anything, they are less skilled in the hunt,” Mary replied with an aloof little smile. “Farzida would not go so far, and anyway, she won’t find out. I am frankly surprised my little charm lasted all week; it is fragile enough to be erased by the merest touch of divine magic. Apparently she has had no need to call upon Avei directly in the last few days, but regardless, a woman of her mindset would bless her working space regularly. It will be gone before anything more can be learned from it.”

“Is there more you planned to learn?”

“No, in fact, I consider this matter now concluded, as far as my own interests are concerned.”

Sheyann gazed at her thoughtfully, but her attention was inward, not on her companion’s face. “I’ve not followed Principia’s career in any detail since hearing she gave Arachne her child—that’s a combination of events that would seize anyone’s attention—and now I am not sure whether this is fully in character for her or completely out of it.”

“The method is a well-trod path for the girl,” Mary said, her expression more serious. “It’s the motive which is new. She has ulterior motives, to be sure, and I’m positive she plans to work against or around the Sisterhood’s rules at some point, but at the same time, she is taking the matter of her enlistment seriously. And now she has the charge of four young women. I believe this will lead to better things for her than I had previously dared to hope.”

“Are you going to intervene further?” Sheyann asked. “Even from what little I saw of that woman Syrinx, I am certain she is disturbed in some manner, and very probably anth’auwa. She is also not gone in any permanent sense, nor will she forgive this humiliation. Principia has likely just bought herself more trouble later.”

Mary nodded. “But she has bought time in which to prepare for it. Syrinx had the element of surprise and a vast advantage of positioning here. I interceded only to the point of preventing her from leveraging it to the fullest; it was Principia’s own cunning that turned the tables, and it is that upon which she will have to rely in the future.”

“Ah, yes,” Sheyann said, deadpan. “Because now that she’s become interesting, you’re going to give up paying attention to her.”

The Crow smiled a sly little smile. “You know very well that I like to keep an eye on things that are interesting to me. And who knows? The girl may need another nudge in the future. By and large, though, I deem it best to leave her life in her own hands, as we always must with the young. After all, Sheyann, with this matter wrapped up, you and I have someplace to be.”

“Indeed.” Sheyann stood, Mary following suit. “We may as well take the opportunity to sleep; the Rails will not resume until morning. Last Rock is also not a regular stop; chartering a caravan is a somewhat more involved process than simply purchasing a ticket. We will need to take the first scheduled caravan to Calderaas and make arrangements from there. It is likely to be afternoon before we reach Arachne’s University.”

Mary narrowed her eyes. “I have no intention of riding that infernal contraption. If you absolutely insist on prioritizing speed over all other considerations, I will meet you in Last Rock tomorrow evening.”

“Kuriwa,” Sheyann said patiently, “you know what is at stake. What method could you possibly have of traveling so far, so fast? Manipulating the winds like that will cause storms across the continent, and even so would take your little wings a week to make the trip.”

“There are faster methods, as you know.”

Sheyann stared at her. “The place between? You would seriously rend a hole in the fabric of reality and risk traveling through a netherworld of doom, beneath the eyes of the great uncreators and the lessor horrors that prowl between the planes, just to avoid riding the Rails?”

Mary tilted her head to one side, making a thoughtful expression. After a moment, she nodded. “That’s correct, yes.”

“Nonsense,” Sheyann said flatly. “You will glamour your hair blonde and I will buy you a ticket. Honestly, Kuriwa. It has been five thousand years; I think it is about time you grew up.”

The Crow very slowly raised one eyebrow. “Oh, I see. You object to my aversions. Very well, then, Sheyann, if we are in such a hurry, why did you not simply arrange to have Arachne teleport us hither and yon? I would wager my moccasins she made the offer.”

“That is a completely different matter,” Sheyann said stiffly. “Don’t change the subject.”

She lost patience and went below in search of her bed before the Crow was done laughing.


“All right, Ruda, what’s this all about?” Gabriel demanded, coming to a stop. He was the last of them to arrive at the small landing just before the bridge to Clarke Tower. “It’s late. What was so important?”

“Late?” Ruda said, grinning mockingly. “It’s late? Gabriel Arquin, you’re a college student, you’re under the age of twenty, and it’s before midnight on a Friday. You call this late? You have officially failed at everything.”

“That’s it, I’m going to bed,” he announced, turning around.

“Wait, Gabe,” Toby urged. “The word went out from Ruda because I asked her to make some arrangements. This was my idea.”

“Yours?” Trissiny asked, raising her eyebrows. “Well… Gabriel’s question still stands, then. What is so important?”

“Guys,” Toby said, slowly panning a serious expression around his assembled classmates, “we need to talk.”

“And…what would you like to talk about?” Fross asked.

“Let me put it this way,” Ruda said, folding her arms. “Can any of you think of something you would like to talk about?”

A silence fell. Gabriel chewed his lower lip and gripped the hilt of his sword; Teal flushed and lowered her eyes, and Shaeine stepped closer to her, moving her hand so that the backs of their fingers touched. Juniper swallowed heavily and sniffed, hugging Jack closer to her chest. For once, the jackalope didn’t seem to mind the treatment. Trissiny frowned thoughtfully at them.

“I can’t, specifically,” Fross declared. “But I can talk about whatever’s on anybody’s mind!”

“I’m glad to hear that, Fross,” Toby said. “But for this… I think we need some privacy. The kind that even professors, even Tellwyrn, aren’t in a position to overhear. And that’s why you heard about this from Ruda instead of me; she has the tools we’ll need, and when I asked her, she said to leave her the arrangements.”

“And I was glad to do it,” Ruda said firmly, her mirthful expression lost in seriousness now. “Because I’ve been watching you clowns all week and I am beginning to be concerned. In fact, right now, Shiny Boots and Fross are the people I am least worried about, and that should give you a hint as to how fucked up we very nearly are.”

“Thanks!” Fross said cheerfully.

“I think,” Trissiny muttered.

“And so,” said Ruda, drawing an object from within her coat pocket and holding it up to them, “I dug into my stash. I trust you remember how these things work?”

“Whoah, wait a second,” said Gabriel, frowning at the blue-glyphed Crawl waypoint stone in her hand. “Why do you have that? Aren’t those basically all Teal’s? I mean, Melaxyna gave her the black one, she bought that one and it was her flute-playing that got us the last one…”

“And I risked my ass actually collecting that, which you seem to have somehow forgotten,” Ruda snapped.

“I gave them to Ruda to hold onto once we were out,” Teal said hurriedly. “Remember, we were gonna let her handle the loot from the Crawl, since she’s the best with figures? I just thought it made sense to add those to the pile.”

“And I hung onto them,” Ruda said, “because they are useless except to University students, since no one else has access to the Crawl, and they’re more useful to us as ways to get around down there than as currency; we’ll probably have more Crawl excursions.”

“Definitely more!” Fross proclaimed. “At least one per year!”

“Right, so we’ll sell ’em off our senior year,” Ruda continued.

“That reminds me,” Gabriel said, “I’d forgotten about that. What happened to our loot, Ruda?”

She shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. I sold off everything except the bacon, which I donated to Mrs. Oak. Over the break I had my family’s bankers open nine interest-bearing accounts. Split that many ways it wasn’t a huge haul, so I had them pursue a fairly aggressive investment strategy. Risky, but there’s lots of development going on in enchantment and industry, and last I heard we were doing quite well.”

“Why didn’t you mention this to us?” Shaeine asked.

Ruda grinned. “Because most of you wouldn’t care, Arquin would’ve yanked his out and spent it—”

“Hey!”

“—and Boots here would’ve just donated her cut to somebody.”

“In point of fact,” Trissiny began.

“No.” Glaring, Ruda thrust a finger directly under her nose. “You let me work! Dammit, woman, this ain’t the Age of Adventurers; you cannot stomp around living off the land. People own the land now; they’ll either charge rent or shoot you for trespassing. Trust me, you will need funding.”

“I’m backed by one of the biggest worldwide cults—”

“Boots, if I’ve gotta explain why it’s smart to have resources that don’t appear on the Sisterhood’s books, you truly do not understand this century.”

“Anyway,” Toby said firmly, “here we are, there’s our waystone, and I think it’s time we visited our old friends in the Crawl and had a long conversation. Don’t you?”

“What friends?” Gabriel exclaimed.

“Do you really think this is that important?” Trissiny asked.

“I think it a good idea,” Sheaine said quietly.

“Me, too,” Juniper whispered.

“We’re really not supposed to go in the Crawl except on approved class exercises,” Fross fretted. “On the other hand, campus rules aren’t the only important thing, and sneaking down there is sort of a major tradition. I mean, Chase does it at least twice a month…”

“We’re settled, then,” said Ruda, grinning. “I trust you guys remember the drill, right? Link arms and hold onto your stomachs.”

“Speaking of which,” Gabriel said, “can we pause for a moment to collect our own snacks to bring? Because I still have the taste of mushrooms and bacon on the back of my—”

“Arquin, shut up and hold my hand, y’big baby.”


“Omnu’s balls, Prin, no!” the innkeeper exclaimed the moment they entered, clutching what remained of his hair in a pantomime of fright. “Not the Legions! Have you no sense of self-preservation? Con someone less dangerous, like the Black Wreath!”

“Been there, done that,” Principia said airily. “Anyhow, Pritchett, I have no idea what you’re on about. I am a duly enlisted soldier in Avei’s mortal army.”

“In fact, she’s the sergeant!” Casey said helpfully.

Pritchett, a man in later middle age, whose retreating hair and advancing gut mirrored each other almost perfectly, gaped at them. Or specifically, at Principia. “You’re not serious,” he said finally.

“As a steak dinner,” she replied, winking. “Look, we’re gonna need one of the quiet tables, an hour or so of privacy, and a pot of Black Punshai tea. The extra-strong blend. Ooh, with cucumber sandwiches. And do you have some of those fantastic butter cookies still?”

“Cookies,” the innkeeper said, still staring at her. “I mean… Sure, yeah, they’re the most popular… Prin, are you sure you’re not in some kinda trouble? If you need a place to crash…”

“Pritch,” she said more kindly, “I’m exactly the same as I always am. Up to my pointy ears in trouble, completely in control and loving every minute of it. I remember where the tables are. Tea, sandwiches, cookies, and I’ll drop by again later so we can catch up, okay? Swell! Toodles! C’mon, ladies, this way.”

“You always take us the nicest places,” Merry grumbled as she followed Principia and the others into the farthest, dimmest corner of the inn’s common room. It was built on a sprawling, rambling plan that resulted in more corners than it seemed a building should have, most of them unnecessarily dim. It was also shabby, with peeling wallpaper, scratched and dented furniture, and cracked, flickering fairy lamps. For all that, though, it was clean.

“There’s nothing more ridiculous than a snobby guttersnipe, Lang,” Principia said cheerfully, seating herself and sliding toward the wall, making space in her selected booth for the others to pile in. With their armor, it was a cozy fit, but it did afford them a measure of privacy. Despite the late hour, the inn had multiple occupied tables, and those sitting at them were very unaccustomed to seeing Silver Legionnaires, to judge by the stares they accumulated. No one seemed hostile, though, and they were not approached.

“Okay, I think we’ve been fairly patient about this, Sarge,” Farah said pointedly, “but it has been a long and stressful day, and I really want to just sleep. What could possibly be so important at this seedy bar that we have to come do it tonight?”

“Story time!” Principia declared, folding her gauntleted hands on the table and smiling at them.

“Story…time,” Ephanie repeated slowly, as if uncertain of the meaning of the words.

“So there I was, in Last Rock,” Principia began. “For about three years. Honestly, I viewed it as being on vacation; I just sat on my ass, mostly. In theory I was keeping an eye on Professor Tellwyrn for the Guild, but hell, they don’t care what she does with her time. It’s just that it’s not smart to ignore somebody like that, y’know? The Thieves’ Guild doesn’t get along by letting the world’s most dangerous people swagger around outside their range of view. So, they needed nominal eyes on the scene, and I needed a break. Anyhow, there’s me, hanging around in bars with the students and adventurers and generally having a grand old time, when up rears the politics of the big city, which is never so far away that it can’t bite you on the ass. It started with some shit between the Black Wreath and the Imperial government, and the next thing I knew…”


“Kids!”

No sooner did they materialize on the lower floor of the Grim Visage than they were greeted with evident delight. Melaxyna leaned over the railing from the upper level, emphasizing her cleavage even more than that position required, and smiled at them with every appearance of happiness. Of course, appearances didn’t count for much with a succubus.

“Welcome, welcome!” the demon said, beaming. “Only the best for my favorite patrons! Drinks and a meal on the house, your money’s no good here.”

“Well, damn, girl, look at you!” Ruda exclaimed, grinning up at the succubus. “You work fast. How’d you get out of Level 2 so quick?”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Melaxyna chided, winking. “That is for me to know, and Arachne to tear her hair out wondering.”

“She let you out, didn’t she,” said Gabriel.

The demon’s expression didn’t alter by a hair, but her tail began lashing behind her like an agitated cat’s, hard enough to be eye-catching even though it was barely visible from that angle. “You know, Gabriel, it’s the funniest thing. I have so much reason to be grateful to you, and yet here you are, not in the room even sixty seconds and already getting under my skin. Sarriki! Our finest table for these most honored of guests.”

“You mean our least shitty table?” the naga suggested, gliding over to them bearing a tray of empty goblets. “’Finest’ isn’t really a word I hear much in this joint. Hi, kids.”

“Hello, Sarriki,” Teal said, smiling.

“Yes, yes,” said Melaxyna, “the least dank one over by the fireplace. And the best of whatever we’ve got in the back, I’ll not have a poor review of my hospitality making its way back up top.”

“The best of whatever?” Sarriki asked, raising one of the ridges that passed for her eyebrows.

“Well, of course,” said the succubus reasonably, her smile remaining in place. “Unless, of course, they seem to be trying to take advantage. Then poison them. Enjoy your stay, kids.” She turned and sashayed back toward the bar, flicking her tail at them.

“I can’t help liking her a little bit,” Gabriel mused, “and I’m not sure why.”

“She’s got an amazing figure,” Juniper pointed out.

“Nah,” he said, “it’s not that… Hard to put my finger on.”

“It probably wouldn’t be hard at all to put your finger on anything of hers,” Trissiny said sharply. “Regardless, don’t.”

“Oh, come on,” he said, offended. “Give me a little credit.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“You two are just too precious,” Sarriki chuckled. “Right this way, little biscuits.”

“Oh, gods, she’s doing that thing,” Fross stage whispered. “I thought that was just Rowe. Does there always have to be somebody in this pub who calls us desserts?”

“Rules of the house,” Sarriki said gravely, gesturing to the large corner table to which she had just escorted them. It was, indeed, comfortably close to the hearth, spacious and slightly less splintery than most of the furniture in the Visage. “You lollipops get yourselves settled in, and I’ll be back with something for you to nosh in just a moment.”

Ruda had already plopped herself into a chair; the others followed suit more carefully as the naga slithered off.

“So,” Trissiny said, “now that we’re here, what is the big issue?”

“It was about two hundred years ago,” Ruda said, producing a bottle of rum from within her coat and setting it on the table. “Like all the events which have led to great changes in the world, it was random and hilariously stupid. So Ankhar Punaji, the prince of Puna Dara, went out and had himself a little too much to drink, which is pretty much a fuckin’ tradition—it’s how we celebrate important events, like surviving to see another sunset, or waking up without having died of alcohol poisoning in your sleep. So there’s Prince Ankhar, staggering around as sloshed as a sloop in a typhoon, and pauses to take a leak on a convenient rock by the harbor.”

She grinned, popped the cork, and had a swig of rum, pausing the wipe her mouth on the sleeve of her greatcoat before continuing. “Turns out the rock in question was a small shrine to Naphthene. Just for a bit of historical background, I should mention that shit like this is exactly why she doesn’t like people putting up shrines. They always do, anyway, and she mostly leaves ’em alone. It’s only worshiping her in an organized manner that gets your ass hammered into the ground by lightning bolts. But anyway, yeah. The prince pissed on a shrine.”

“I bet you get extra smote for that,” Gabriel said in an awed tone.

“Well, Naphthene is as capricious as the sea itself,” Ruda continued. “We always make our offerings to her when setting out on a voyage. It’s no guarantee at all of fair sailing—she just doesn’t play nice with anybody—but not doing it markedly ups your chances of getting sunk. She’s a gigantic bitch, is what I’m sayin’, and doesn’t generally mind having that pointed out. Closest thing we’ve got to a Naphthist dogma is the old saying, ‘the storm cares not.’ Still and all, pissing on a shrine? That is the kind of shit that gets a deity’s attention. Sometimes. If they’re a pretty pissy one to begin with, that is. So the goddess cursed Ankhar with the worst fate that could be inflicted on a pirate.”

“Hanging?” Trissiny said dryly.

“Poverty?” Gabriel suggested.

“A peaceful system of maritime trade enforced by sophisticated modern navies?” Fross chimed.

“Worse,” Ruda said gravely. “Sobriety.”

For a moment, there was silence around the table.

“I just…wow,” Gabriel said at last. “It’s just begging for a smartass comment, but…what can you say? The thing itself is its own punchline.”

“Pretty much, yeah,” Ruda said lightly, pausing to take another swig of rum. “Naphthene cursed Prince Ankhar and all his descendants to, and I quote, ‘drink but never be drunk.’ This is why I get a campus exemption to the ban on drinking. The Punaji royal line, despite being completely impervious to the intoxicating effects of…well, anything…suffers a compulsion to consume alcohol.”

“What happens if you don’t drink?” Trissiny asked curiously.

Ruda’s expression darkened. “One of my uncles tried that. I do not want to talk about it.” She took another drink of rum.

“Um,” Juniper said, slowly stroking Jack’s fur, “that’s a neat story and it’s interesting to finally know why you’re immune to drugs—”

“Actually that really straightens out something that had been bugging me!” Fross exclaimed. “If it’s a divine curse, that explains why it didn’t work as well on infernal intoxicants! It probably saved your life when you got hopped up on hthrynxkh blood, Ruda, but didn’t manage to completely obviate the effects like it does everything else. Fascinating!”

“Yes, but my point was,” Juniper said patiently, “why are you telling us this now?”


“Because, as I said, it is story time,” Principia said in response to Farah’s question. The others were silent in the aftermath of her tale, not reaching for the tea or sandwiches which had been delivered while the elf spoke. Principia folded her arms on the table, pushing her teacup away, and leaned forward to stare earnestly at them. “And because it’s a pretty basic rule of command not to ask anything of your troops you’re not willing to do yourself.”

“Holy shit, Locke,” Merry whispered. She looked downright nauseous. “I had no idea… I mean, I knew that guy was skeevy, even before he betrayed us, but I never figured… If I’d even imagined he’d do something like that…”

“Relax, Lang,” Principia said gently. “To look at it another way, I could’ve warned you about him if I wasn’t so tied up in worrying over my own skin. Let’s face it, none of us came out of that mess looking good. Can we just, finally, put it behind us and start over?”

Merry nodded, and gulped. “I… Yeah. I think I like the sound of that.”

“If I take your meaning,” Ephanie said slowly, “you want us to tell you our stories.”

“It’s like this,” the newly-minted sergeant said seriously. “We are not out of the woods, girls. Syrinx got slapped on the wrist, no more. We have four months in which to shape up without having to worry about her descending on us, and probably a small grace period after she’s back in which she’ll be careful not to piss off the High Commander again. But she is not gone, and in fact her last memory of us is the humiliation of being knocked down a peg while we watched. This isn’t over. She’ll be coming for us again, eventually.

“Furthermore,” she went on, her expression growing grimmer, “there’s the fact that Commander Rouvad made it plan she doesn’t like us. She also set us up for future confrontations with Syrinx by arranging for us to be witness to the Bishop’s comeuppance, which let’s face it, was completely unnecessary. That woman is too sharp to have done something like that accidentally or at random. I think, next time we have to take on Syrinx, it’ll be with the tacit approval of the High Commander. She’s setting us up to clash with her.”

“That’s completely bonkers,” Farah objected. “Why?”

“It actually makes perfect sense,” Casey said, frowning. “She can’t get rid of Syrinx without having a suitable replacement—and it might not be smart to get rid of Syrinx anyway, because then she might go over to the Church completely and become an outright enemy. One who knows the Sisterhood’s inner workings. But if she wanted to replace Syrinx…here we are. If we shape up, take her on and take her down, Rouvad has a whole roster of women who can do the Bishop’s job—at least, her political job, I dunno about being a priestess. And if we fail, well, we’re a convenient chew toy for Basra to focus on while Rouvad sets up something else.”

Ephanie sighed heavily. “I hate politics so very much.”

“I am afraid that’s just too damn bad, Avelea,” Principia said firmly. “Politics, as of right now, is what we are. We have at least one powerful enemy who will be coming back for us, and we cannot count on the support of the High Commander when her own interest lies in making us fight our own battles.”

“Captain Dijanerad has our backs,” Farah pointed out. “I mean, Locke, the fact is your little tirade against Syrinx ended on a big fat gendered insult. Rouvad didn’t mention that at all, which I’m pretty sure means she didn’t know about it. Which means Dijanerad didn’t tell her.”

“And that’s something to consider,” Principia said nodding. “But we’ve been over the fact that Shahdi Dijanerad is a good soldier and not much of a political operative at all. No, ladies, what we have to rely on is each other. And right now, we are a big bundle of unknown elements to one another. I love my privacy as much as the next gal, but that’s not going to work. There are too many unasked questions, here, and not enough trust.”

She leaned back, dragging her stare around the group, meeting each of their eyes in turn. “So I went first. Now, we need to know just who and what we are dealing with. I’m sorry to have to put you all on the spot like this, but I’m doing it because I have to. As of this moment, we are family. We succeed together, or we all fail, and the consequences of failure for each of us are likely to be far worse than a damaged military career. You all know that, right?”

“Commander Rouvad pretty much told us that straight out,” Merry said in a hollow tone.

“Yeah,” Principia said grimly, nodding. “So we are not going into one more day without knowing who we’re fighting beside. Who’s next?”


“It’s not even that I think it’s urgent, or that anybody’s in danger,” Ruda said, pouring rum into her teacup while the others stared disconsolately at the steaming pot of mushroom stew now in the middle of the table, “but it’s been a week of watching most of you lot moping and sulking and fidgeting and generally acting off-kilter, and dammit, I’m getting worried. I’m not the only one, either,” she added, nodding at Toby. “Look, guys, I respect your privacy and all, but we’re family, here. There is clearly some unresolved business from the battle this spring weighing on several of us. I know this is hard, but we have got to deal with it. Keepin’ it to yourself isn’t going to help you at all, whatever’s troubling you. Fuck it, I love you guys. We’re all in this together. Let’s deal with it together. Okay?”

Juniper sniffled, tears beading in her eyes, but she was smiling at Ruda as she did so. Toby smiled, too; Trissiny looked thoughtful. Teal was twisting her hands in her lap, stopping only when Shaeine reached over to take one of them in her own.

“Well,” Gabriel said after a moment’s silence, “this is not something I would’ve expected or thought to try, but when you put it that way… Yeah, Ruda, I think you’re right. So, I guess I’ll go first.”

He leaned to one side, drawing the black sword from its sheath, then pushed aside his still-empty bowl and set the elven saber on the table in front of him.

“Everyone, this is Ariel.”

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8 – 8

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The entire sophomore class appeared in Tellwyrn’s dimly-lit office with a series of small pops, over the course of about five seconds.

“Dammit!” Ruda shouted after getting her bearings. “Can you not at least ask first, woman? What if somebody had been changing?”

“Someone was,” Toby exclaimed, feeling nervously at his clothes. “I don’t know whether I’m less or more disturbed to find myself fully dressed, now.”

“Wow, that’s really impressive,” Fross chimed. “That’s a whole order of magnitude more complex than a standard teleportation.”

“At least twice that,” Professor Tellwyrn said calmly. She was seated behind her desk as usual, framed by the unshuttered windows granting a view of the clear night sky. Only the small fairy lamp above the desk was active, leaving the room mostly in semi-darkness. “Based on my observations of you precious little buggers, I am playing a hunch. Mr. Arquin has just brought something rather unsettling to my attention which, at first glance, seems it should concern only himself and Juniper, but I have the most peculiar feeling I’m about to find that the lot of you will either become involved, or already are.”

“Peculiar feeling?” Juniper said nervously, hugging her jackalope to her chest. Jack hung with his back legs dangling, and to judge by the way he kicked and squirmed, wasn’t enjoying it. Being continually prodded about the head and neck with his antlers didn’t seem to discomfort the dryad. “About something unsettling involving Gabe and me? What’d I do?”

“It appears,” said Tellwyrn, staring at her, “there is a new dryad sniffing around Last Rock.”

“What?” Juniper squawked. “Which?”

“She said her name was Aspen,” said Gabriel.

“Oh!” Juniper brightened considerably. “That’s probably okay, then, she’s really nice.”

“June, I don’t know how to break this to you gently,” he said with a wince, “but she tried to kill me.”

“I’m guessing you talked to her first,” Trissiny said dryly.

Gabe shot her a long look, then sighed. “Look, I know when I’ve provoked someone, and I didn’t. I was very diplomatic. She came here looking for a fight.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Juniper whispered. Jack finally kicked free of her, and she had to lunge after him as he bounded for the door. It was closed, fortunately.

“I actually met Aspen once,” said Fross. “She seemed nice to me, but it was a brief sort of conversation. Why’d she try to kill you?”

“More important,” said Teal, “how did you get out of that situation? You’re obviously not killed, and I think we’d have noticed if somebody nearby had harmed a dryad.”

“I can’t take credit,” he said ruefully, rubbing at his neck with one hand. “This was on the Vidian temple grounds. Soon as she got her hand on my throat, the valkyries chased her off.”

There was a moment’s silence.

“There are valkyries around here?” Trissiny exclaimed.

Wordlessly, Gabriel and Tellwyrn both pointed at an empty space in front of the Vernis Vault with the music player on top. Everyone immediately shuffled back from it.

“There are usually several around the last few months,” Gabriel said. “They sorta rotate in and out; they’ve all got other things to do but it seems like they hang around me in their free time. This is Vestrel; she’s the only actually assigned to help me. She says hello.”

“Hi, Vestrel!” Fross chirped enthusiastially.

“Gods, please tell me I’m not the only one who doesn’t see anybody,” said Ruda.

“Valkyries don’t actually occupy the mortal plane,” Tellwyrn explained. “They can’t even be seen here except on Vidian holy ground and in places where the dimensional barriers have thinned. They also cannot interact physically with anything that’s not…out of place. Undead, ghosts, Vanislaad demons, things like that.”

“So, could they be present, say, around a fresh hellgate?” Ruda asked in an interested tone. “Cos I’ve gotta say, couple of those woulda been really useful this spring. What with tall, dark and creepy clearly hanging around anyway.”

“And incidentally,” Tellwyrn added with asperity, “this fact should not be mentioned in front of Aspen, should any of you find yourselves having a conversation with her. We’ve found one way of scaring her into behaving; she doesn’t need to know its limitations.”

“Why would a dryad be afraid of valkyries, though?” Juniper asked, frowning and stroking Jack’s fur. She had him settled in a more comfortable position in her arms. “Dryads are, like, the ultimate apex predator. Nothing is dangerous to us.”

“You’ve never met a dragon,” Tellwyrn remarked. “We can explore that another time.”

“Also, what’s a valkyrie?”

“If I may, Juniper?” the Professor said acidly.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, flushing.

“Aspen’s stated reason for being here, according to Mr. Arquin, is to look for you. She seems to be under the impression that you’re dead.”

Gabriel sighed, looking over at the others. In nearly perfect unison, most of them stiffened, eyes widening. Shaeine merely tilted her head, raising an eyebrow.

“And there it is,” Tellwyrn said with grim satisfaction. “The oh-so-familiar expression of a bunch of kids realizing exactly how they’ve screwed up. It would almost be satisfying if it weren’t going to result in a whole bunch of unnecessary hassle for me. See, I knew the lot of you were involved with this. All right, spit it out. Why is there a dryad poking around my University believing in Juniper’s alleged demise?”

“Well…” Juniper trailed off, gulped, and bent to set Jack on the floor. He immediately hopped off into a corner away from the group. “I think it’s because of what happened in the Crawl.”

She paused, watching Tellwyrn warily; the Professor simply raised an eyebrow.

“There was this…sort of…room. A complex of halls, more like. It was full of illusions that made us face…um, fears.”

Tellwyrn nodded. “Yes, I read Professor Ezzaniel’s report. That is why I wasn’t more irate at you getting rid of my incubus; I obviously can’t have him sending my students on detours that dramatic. Go on.”

“Well, I…” Juniper swallowed again, glancing at the others. Teal stepped over to squeeze her shoulder encouragingly. “I sort of had to…come to grips with…some stuff. I mean… Well…”

“I don’t need to interrogate you about your emerging conscience unless it’s immediately relevant to the issue,” Tellwyrn said. “You’ve been making positive progress in that regard, Juniper. Kindly skip to the non-stuttering part that explains this fresh brouhaha.”

Juniper sighed and nodded. “I was having trouble dealing with it, so… Shaeine helped me by invoking Themynra’s judgment, which was… Well, Themynra seemed not to condemn me. So I asked Trissiny to do the same thing. With Avei’s.”

Tellwyrn’s eyebrows slowly narrowed; her eyes thinned to slits behind her spectacles. “You didn’t.”

“She insisted,” said Trissiny, standing stiffly at attention.

“You do realize,” Tellwyrn said in a dangerously quiet tone, “that given the average dryad’s habits, that could very easily have resulted in your classmate’s death?”

“I knew the risks,” Juniper said hastily. “I asked her to, Professor. She didn’t want to.”

“Why is it,” Tellwyrn said, ignoring her, “that every time you fail to think something through, Avelea, you nearly end up getting somebody murdered?”

Trissiny flushed and lowered her eyes, offering no comment.

“All right, well,” Tellwyrn said after a moment. “Clearly Juniper’s not dead. Thanks for small blessings. But somehow your fellow dryads now think you are?”

“She…” Juniper paused, sighed, and squared her shoulders. “Avei cut me off from Naiya.”

“Bullshit. That would simply have killed you.”

“That’s what Elder Shiraki said,” she replied. “It wasn’t a complete severing, more of a block. It means…I don’t have Naiya’s protection anymore. Avei thought it would be an appropriate punishment to have me, you know, on my own in the world. I…don’t disagree.” She trailed off, looking at the floor. Toby stepped over to her other side, placing an arm around her shoulders.

Tellwyrn stared at them all in silence for a long moment, then removed her spectacles and carefully folded the earpieces, then set them on the desk. She leaned back, her chair squeaking as it partially reclined, and stared at the ceiling. “No matter how many times I tell you little bastards to think before you act, you continually plunge headfirst into the dumbest damn course of action you can come up with. Now, why is that? And more to the point, how long can this go on before you bring this whole bloody place down around our ears?”

“Asking what you’re talking about is just gonna get me called stupid again, isn’t it,” Ruda said sardonically.

Tellwyrn rubbed at her face with one hand. “During our impromptu class at the inn in Lor’naris, I spoke to you about the nature of the gods. The conditional nature of their agency, and how it is sometimes possible to subvert or manipulate them. Please tell me you remember that?”

“We do,” Shaeine said after a moment when nobody else spoke.

The Professor sighed. “Well, Miss Avelea, that’s what you just did to your goddess.”

“What?!” Trissiny exclaimed.

“The goddess of justice, invoked physically by her chosen Hand, and asked to render judgment on a complex moral case with far-reaching implications?” Tellwyrn shook her head. “She pretty much wasn’t able to refuse. Such judgments are a large part of what she is. And so, you basically coerced Avei the deity into doing something that Avei the mortal strategist of eight thousand years ago would’ve had the sense to not damn well do!”

“Hang on,” Gabriel protested. “I get how this leads to Aspen thinking Juniper’s dead, but isn’t it a little harsh to get on Avei’s case about it? Justice as an absolute concept has to be above the overreactions of random dryads.” Trissiny shot him a look that started out surprised and became grateful.

“I do not give a bowl of chilled rat’s ass consomme about Aspen, and neither does nor should Avei,” Tellwyrn snapped. “Juniper wasn’t cut off from Aspen, except perhaps incidentally. The issue here is Naiya. Naiya, who now thinks Juniper is dead, and either told Aspen about it or quite possibly sent her here to investigate. Please, please tell me I don’t have to spell this out any further? Can you kids not see the potential catastrophe unfolding here?”

“Um?” Juniper raised a hand. “Pardon me for interrupting your tirade, but people keep pointing out to me how Naiya is, uh…not terribly attentive. It’s not something I enjoy hearing but I don’t really have an argument against it, y’know?”

“Juniper,” Tellwyrn said in exasperation, “you know you’re an exceptional circumstance. And the rest of you frankly have no excuse for not having figured this out! Honestly, how many dryads have been sent to attend a school in all of history? How many have been permitted by the Empire to attend said school and move around Tiraan territory? You cannot possibly have failed to put together that Juniper has a higher degree of Naiya’s attention than most of her kind—or so I would have assumed, and yet, here we damn well are!”

“I hardly think that’s fair,” Shaeine said coolly. “Several of us are in unprecedented circumstances, in one way or another, and our interactions have been geared—quite deliberately by you, I might add—toward teaching us to work together more than to intellectually ponder one another’s origins.”

“Also,” Ruda added, “some of us are from places like the sea and deep underground and can reasonably be forgiven for knowing fuck all about fucking dryads.”

“Well, this is an argument we can have at length another time,” Tellwyrn began.

“Why is it the argument gets moved to another time when you’re losing it?” Trissiny demanded.

“Because I’m in charge, Avelea, and on a related note, shut up. Right now we have to deal with this dryad situation which you’ve created. Regardless of how dim it was or wasn’t for you to have helped get Juniper into this state, there is no good reason why I’m only hearing about it now. What you have done is potentially set Naiya and Avei on a course for direct conflict. There are a million possible ways this can play out, and you’d better believe I will be bending my energies toward making sure one of the relatively harmless options is what occurs, but the worst-case scenario is nothing less than the bloody Elder Wars revisited in miniature! Kids… If you have to fuck around with deities, will you at least tell me about it before I find myself with demigoddesses assaulting my students?!”

“I think she’s got us there, guys,” Fross said.

“Whose side are you on?” Ruda muttered.

“…there are sides?”

“All right, enough,” Tellwyrn said, putting her spectacles back on. “I’ve set up wards around Last Rock so I’ll know if and when Aspen returns. It’s not clear to me why she would be especially bothered by valkyries, so I can’t guess how frightened she was or how quickly she’ll come back, but it can be assumed she didn’t hike all the way here from the Deep Wild to be turned back at the first opposition.”

“Wait, when did you set up wards?” Gabriel demanded. “You’ve been sitting right here ever since I came and told you about this.”

Tellwyrn gave him a sardonic look.

“Yeah,” he said with a sigh, “I realized why it was dumb as soon as I said it.”

“Story of your life. Anyway, I’m not leaving it at that; too much potential for bystanders to be harmed. There are people moving about the periphery of the town much of the time, and while the wannabe adventurers can be annoying, I doubt most of them deserve to have a run-in with a pissy dryad. If all goes well, I should have Aspen in hand by morning.”

“She went off into the Golden Sea,” Gabriel said. “Gonna be hard to track her there. And by ‘hard’ I mean ‘technically impossible.’”

“You let me worry about that, Arquin.”

“Please don’t hurt Aspen,” Juniper said worriedly. “She’s really super nice. She’s just upset about me dying, I’m sure she doesn’t mean any harm.”

“She did try to kill me,” Gabriel pointed out.

“Oh, everyone tries to kill you,” Ruda said, grinning. “You’ve gotta stop taking these little things so personally, boy.”

He sneered at her; Trissiny patted him on the shoulder.

“It isn’t even a question of who deserves what degree of manhandling,” Tellwyrn said impatiently. “Harming a dryad is off the table, for reasons you all know very well. Odds are good I’m already on Naiya’s shit list, thanks to you brats. That’s just one of the things I will need to learn from Aspen as soon as I have her secured. But no, she will not be harmed in any way. This won’t be the first time I’ve had to take a dryad out of commission without ticking off her mother. It’s not terribly hard if you’re careful.”

“That seems even more ominous, somehow,” Juniper mumbled.

“Anyway, I will come get you as soon as I’ve got her,” Tellwyrn continued. “Obviously, hearing from you will be the first step in settling her down. I’m hoping a lot of this can be made to just go away once she understands you are alive.”

“And once she understand that, I’ll be wanting an apology,” Gabriel added.

“It is unlikely to be so simple,” Shaine pointed out. “We will then have to explain why Juniper appears dead to Naiya’s senses, which, as Professor Tellwyrn has said, could become complicated.”

“I assure you I’ll be getting information from Aspen before I give her any,” Tellwyrn said grimly. “But you’re right, Miss Awarrion. I can’t detain a dryad indefinitely—not safely, anyway, especially when her mother may already be tetchy about this. We’ll have to do something with her. And figuring out exactly what will have to wait until I know more about the situation.”

“So…what else do you need from us, then?” Trissiny asked.

“For now? That should be it. You can all go back to bed, or studying, or more likely wasting time. Whatever you were doing. Juniper, this is important enough that you may be excused from class to speak with Aspen when she’s available. Otherwise, you just keep the rest of your classmates informed, and I will notify you all if I need you for anything. Oh, and Mr. Arquin, you have handled all this rather well. Not that your role was particularly complex or challenging, but it’s pleasing to see you not buggering up a simple task.”

“Stop, I’m gonna blush,” he said flatly.

“All right, everybody be off,” said Tellwyrn, then paused, scowling at the far corner. “…except Juniper, who will be reporting to Stew for cleaning supplies and then back here to remove the essence of rabbit shit from my carpet.”


Self-doubt was a new sensation for Aspen, and she was not enjoying it.

It had been a long day of walking, followed by a stressed, sleepless night. Now, the sun had not yet arrived, but the sky was lightening and taking on the first reddish tinges in the east that signaled the rise of a new day. Aspen didn’t stop in her pacing to appreciate it, much as she hadn’t stopped to rest all night. She didn’t actually feel at all tired; her nerves were still too twinged by the encounter at the human temple.

Really, that was her own fault. She should’ve known better than to confront a human on holy ground. The magic of their gods wasn’t healthy for fairy kind. Still… A priest she could have handled. Those things, though. Nothing could have prepared her for those.

Well, she was gaining some insights into what had happened to Juniper. Not that she intended to stop until she’d found the Arachne and squeezed some answers out of her, but this was progress. If there were things like that around the human town where poor Juniper had been living, no wonder she’d come to grief.

Poor, silly little Juniper. It made Aspen furious even to think of. What must her brief time here have been like, if that was the kind of company she was forced to keep?

She turned and resumed her pacing. After several hours spent wandering aimlessly through the Sea, she’d settled down to a fairly limited spot and had been pacing like a restless lion. By this point she’d worn a track of mashed tallgrass and was simply stalking back and forth on that line.

How was she supposed to get past those things? The sheer horror of them made her shudder even in recollection. Nothing like that had ever existed in the Deep Wild. Surely they weren’t of human origin, for all that she’d found them in that human temple. The truly terrible thing had been the way she could feel them through attuning. Almost exactly like she could feel her sisters, except… Wrong. Backwards. Inverted.

Anti-dryads, that’s what they were, which made no sense. How could something like that even exist? And what were they doing with humans? If this was what humans were up to, the Arachne had been right. Somebody needed to start domesticating them. It seemed Aspen’s warnings had been both wrong and horribly right: Juniper’s mission had been very important, and she had surely come to grief from it.

Poor Juniper…

But what to do?

She reached the other end of her track and was about to turn around again when a face appeared suddenly in the tallgrass right in front of her.

Aspen yelped and hopped backward in surprise. It was a humanoid face—a woman, pretty, with lustrous black hair and almond-shaped eyes. She also had triangular fox ears, which Aspen was fairly sure humans were not supposed to. More to the point, now that she saw the fox-woman, she could feel the torrent of Naiya’s power rushing through her, which she had not sensed a second before. She’d either been hiding or had simply not been there before—which wasn’t too farfetched, considering how the Golden Sea behaved.

“Um,” Aspen said. “Hello?”

The woman smiled broadly, revealing excessively long canines. Aspen smiled tentatively back.

Then a hand flashed out of the tallgrass and slapped her hard across the face.

The dryad could only stare in shock, lifting her own fingers to probe at the four stinging scratches laid across her cheek by the woman’s wicked claws. They were already closing up, of course, but that had hurt.

“Tag!” the fox-woman chirped. “You’re it!”

Then, laughing brightly, she whirled and dashed off into the tallgrass, a bushy, white-tipped tail bobbing behind her.

Aspen let out a roar of fury and charged after her.

She kept a short distance behind her quarry, the laughing woman always just out of reach, so close Aspen could almost grab her tail. She would sprint ahead, then pause, turning to grin and wave until the dryad was nearly on her again, then dart off in another direction.

Despite the frustration of it, and the obvious fact that she was being toyed with, the chase very quickly started to clear her head. Weltering in uncertainty wasn’t good for her; a good chase, though, this she understood. A hunt was exactly what she needed.

At least, for the first few minutes. Quickly, the frustration started building, and the gap between her and the fox-woman grew wider and stayed wider. Was she getting slower? Surely not. She could go forever.

Aspen lunged through a dense stand of tallgrass stalks into a relatively cleared space and paused, looking around. She had been sure the woman was just ahead, but now she couldn’t see anybody. The sky was red with dawn; there was ample light to make out her environs even without borrowing night vision from one of the animals. There was just nobody here.

Then someone off to her left cleared their throat.

Aspen whirled, beholding the woman, who was wearing an ornate silk robe, sitting calmly in an ornately-carved wooden chair which had no business being out here on the prairie, sipping tea from a dainty porcelain cup. A second ago that spot had been empty.

“Good morning,” she said pleasantly. “Allow myself to introduce me: I am Ekoi Kaisa, and you are exceedingly disappointing. Really, is this the best you can do? This almost isn’t even fun.”

Aspen snarled and lunged forward.

Kaisa laughed and dived underneath her own chair in a whirl of silk and bushy tail. Aspen skidded to a stop right next to her and savagely kicked the chair aside.

It burst apart into a spray of blood red maple leaves, which swirled on the air, drifting into the tallgrass all around. Once again, there was no one and nothing else there.

“Stop doing that, you jackass!” Aspen raged, whirling and glaring around.

“Really, there is no need to be rude,” Kaisa said reprovingly from the other end of the clearing. “Just because you’re slow and clumsy doesn’t mean you need to be boorish.”

“I’m gonna chew your ears off!” Aspen yelled, charging at her. The giggling kitsune darted away into the tallgrass.

This time, she led the dryad on a straight dash, eschewing her zig-zagging pattern of before. Aspen growled as her legs pumped at their maximum speed, and even so, the fox-woman was pulling ahead slightly. The dryad, tasting bitter outrage in the back of her throat, tried to pour more energy into her run, but she simply hadn’t been designed for speed. She staggered to a halt, half-doubled over, feeling the ache in her joints.

“And by the way,” said her quarry from just ahead. Aspen lifted her eyes, glaring at the kitsune, who had folded her arms and was staring severely down at her. “What were you thinking, setting foot in a town as naked as a piglet? The disgrace.”

This was ridiculous. The woman was obviously a fairy. Fairies were supposed to respect dryads!

“Do you have any idea who I am?” Aspen demanded, straightening up.

“Why, yes!” Kaisa said with another fang-baring grin. “Your name is Aspen. You are belligerent, pushy, ill-mannered, slatternly and slow.”

Aspen roared in wordless fury and lunged at her again. Kaisa dashed away, cackling in delight.

The kitsune ducked to the side, hopping over a stand of tallgrass that made an impenetrable clump near the ground, passing through its less dense upper fronds with ease. Aspen tried to follow, and the grass stalks springing back from Kaisa’s passing smacked her in the face with the force of a punch. She landed hard on her rump, blinking stars out of her vision.

The vulpine face appeared in the tallgrass, grinning down at her. “I think we can add ‘dense’ to your resume. In both senses of the word.”

Scrambling to her feet, Aspen grabbed a handful of the thickest part of the tallgrass stand and ripped it bodily out of the ground, hurling the whole thing aside.

Kaisa blew her a kiss and darted off again, the dryad right on her heels.

Abruptly they burst out of the tallgrass entirely into a vast cleared space. She skidded to a halt, realizing belatedly that she was back in the environs of Last Rock. The buildings of the town were sprawled dead ahead; there was the huge shape of the mountain, blotting out the sky, and off to one side stood that odd flat temple where she’d run into the things.

In front of her, the fox woman had halted as well, turned to face her, and bowed politely. Straightening up, she waved. “Well, thank you for playing with me! Good-bye.”

“You’re not going anywhere!” Aspen snarled.

“That is correct,” Kaisa said equably.

Then, with a sharp little pop, the world disappeared.

Aspen was suddenly in a room. Square, not large, made of reddish bricks with heavy granite blocks reinforcing the corners and its sole doorframe. There were no windows; the illumination came from those artificial magic lights humans had started using recently. More slabs of granite made up the floor and ceiling. Additional panels of the smooth gray stone were set into the walls at intervals, engraved with glowing blue sigils.

She didn’t need that, or the prickly sensation on her skin of arcane magic at work, to know this was some kind of wizardry. Aspen had materialized three feet off the floor, and wasn’t falling. She kicked, reached for the floor and ceiling, and only succeeded in making herself spin impotently about in midair. Once she stopped flailing, the spell holding her up gradually returned her to an upright position. That was a small courtesy, at least.

When she got her hands on that stupid fox, she was gonna kill her in an unnecessarily messy fashion. For the first time, Aspen was starting to empathize with Larch.

Another little pop sounded, and she found herself face-to-face with the Arachne, who studied her grimly over the rims of her spectacles.

“Hello, Aspen.”

“…aw, crud,” she sighed.

“Well put,” the elf said dryly. “And thank you, Kaisa. That was very neatly done.”

The kitsune leaned out from behind the Arachne, grinning up at Aspen. “I hope you find something more interesting for me next time, Arachne. She’s not clever enough or powerful enough to have been any proper fun. Really, how disappointing. Dryads are such a let-down.”

“Perhaps I should introduce you to Jacaranda sometime,” Arachne said, raising an eyebrow, then turned her attention back to Aspen. “For now, though, you and I are going to have a chat, Aspen. Let’s begin with the matter of you laying your hands on one of my students.”

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8 – 3

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“I think he’s mellowing with age.”

“I don’t think that man is capable of mellowing, Ruda,” Toby disagreed. “I think we’re just getting used to him. Which…could be a good or a bad thing, depending on how you look at it.”

“What’s bad about getting used to things?” asked Teal.

He shrugged, pushing his teacup back and forth on the table. “I don’t know…just something about this place. In hindsight I can see the point of a lot of what Tellwyrn’s subjected us to, but on the other hand, I sometimes get the feeling the University is training us to cope with a certain kind of ridiculousness that just doesn’t occur anywhere else.”

Ruda laughed and added another splash of brandy to her “tea.” She’d been doing that after every sip and not refilling it from the pot; by this point she basically had a teacup full of brandy.

The cafeteria was open to students at all hours except during the night. There weren’t meals to be had except at mealtimes, but they could almost always find hot tea and cold pastries. It had long been a popular place for groups to study, between the plentiful table space and free food, though the library was enjoying a resurgence in popularity since Weaver had been replaced by the somewhat awkward but vastly more pleasant Crystal.

The newly-minted sophomores had stopped in to relax and swap stories of their various summers after their first class. Rafe, as per his pattern, hadn’t kept them long, using a tenth of the allotted class time to do little but say hello, strike a few poses and give an extremely brief description of the focus of this year’s alchemical studies.

“The unexpected and extreme can occur anywhere,” Sheaine said. “Perhaps we are better served by—”

She was interrupted by an enormous antlered hare, which bounded onto the table and snatched the half-eaten muffin from Gabriel’s plate. Gabe yelped in surprised, jerking backward so hard he nearly tipped his chair over.

“Jack, no!” Juniper exclaimed, lunging across the table to seize the animal, which kicked in her grasp. Teal grabbed the teapot, barely averting a disaster. “I’m so sorry, he’s not really used to indoors, yet. We’re working on his manners.” The dryad settled her pet back in her lap, soothingly stroking his fur. Only the antlers were visible over the edge of the table.

“Well, this is as good a time as any to ask,” Gabriel said, grimacing and pushing away the smashed remains of his muffin. “June, what is with the rabbit?”

“Actually he’s a jackalope!” Fross chimed. “Closely related to rabbits, as you can see, but a distinct species. They’re fey, rather magical; an actual rabbit’s neck wouldn’t support the weight of those horns very well.”

“They’re antlers, not horns, and it’s a druid thing,” Juniper explained. “Animal companions are a tradition of druidic practice.”

“They’re called ‘pets,’ and they’re a tradition everywhere,” Ruda observed.

“Well, yes, but I mean it’s a specific druidic practice. Several traditions of shamanism and witchcraft make use of animal familiars. It’s a way of…well, it’s kind of technical…”

“It involves imbuing an animal with a part of one’s essence!” Fross said brightly. “Thus creating a second point of observation which is capable of instigating the wave-function collapse which is at the heart of all magical action.”

“Wave…what?” Teal asked, mystified.

“That’s arcane theory, though,” said Gabriel. “Does it really apply to druidic or any fae arts?”

“Arcane physics is so called because it’s most easily investigated by use of arcane magic,” Fross explained. “The principles themselves apply to basically all magic equally. That’s why magical creatures are popular familiars. Actually, some witches use pixies, if they can! Pixies are hard to get, though, you usually have to go to the Pixie Queen’s grove to find any, and she’s not big on visitors.”

“That’s an interesting choice, Juno,” Trissiny said. “Aren’t jackalopes sort of…infamously ornery?”

“Well, he’s not a true familiar,” Juniper said somewhat defensively. “I’m not at that point, not nearly. Really, I’m just starting out. The Elders had me take care of an animal for somewhat more mundane reasons. It’s all about forming a bond with—”

She broke off, having to grab and subdue Jack again as he launched himself at Teal’s plate.

“Taking on a more challenging prospect can be a way to learn more swiftly,” Shaeine observed. Juniper was too busy wrangling the jackalope to respond; he didn’t seem as interested in settling down in her lap again this time.

“Hey, check this out,” Ruda said, craning her neck to peer past Toby at the glass front wall of the cafeteria. “It’s the freshmen!”

“There are an awful lot of them,” Teal remarked, turning to look.

“Twenty-two!” said Fross. “The student roster is posted in the library.”

“Twenty-two isn’t a large class at most schools,” Toby pointed out. “Though…compared to nine, I guess it is.”

“Why are they all boys?” Trissiny asked, her brows lowering.

“Oh, here we go,” Ruda muttered, rolling her eyes.

“The Class of 1183 has seventeen men and five women,” said Fross, “which is a seventy-seven percent gender imbalance, which is the same as the seventy-seven percent gender imbalance in our class skewing the opposite way. Actually those are rounded percentages and ours is just slightly greater, but you get the idea.”

“I didn’t know you could do that kind of math in your head,” said Teal. “Bravo!”

“It’s an important skill if you’re going to study arcane magic,” said Gabriel. “Which is why I really ought to work on that…”

“And I do it in my mind, not my head,” Fross clarified.

“Hey, wanna go say hi to the newbies?” suggested Ruda. “Look, they’re trooping toward the greenhouse. Already had Tellwyrn’s claws in them and are about to meet Rafe. Makes you feel sorry for the little darlings.”

“You mean, like how Natchua said hi to us between our first two classes?” Toby said, smiling faintly.

“Well, no,” Ruda replied. “Because we aren’t creepy and pathetic.”

Gabriel cleared his throat pointedly.

“I stand corrected,” she said, grinning. “Most of us aren’t creepy and pathetic.”

“Thank you,” he said with deep dignity. “I hate to fuss, but a fella likes to be acknowledged.”

“It’s a good idea, though,” said Trissiny, standing up. “Shall we?”

“Yeah, sure,” Gabriel replied, glancing down at his desecrated muffin. “I guess we’re pretty much done here.”

“It’s almost time to head to Yornhaldt’s class anyway,” Toby added, also rising. “C’mon, we can meet the freshmen on the way.”

“Well, a few of them,” said Ruda. “They mostly went past while you lot were jabbering.”

Indeed, most of the students had gone past by the time they emerged onto the lawn. The freshmen walked alone or in small groups, forming a staggered line; some turned to look at the emerging sophomores, a few slowing down to stare as they recognized Trissiny’s armor and put the rest together. Only the last cluster actually stopped, though. For whatever reason, the girls were walking along at the end, with only a couple of their male classmates.

“Mornin’, little lambs!” Ruda said cheerily. “How’re you settling in?”

“Well, thank you,” said the drow woman politely, then turned fully to Shaeine and bowed. Shaeine nodded deeply in reply.

“Teal, how lovely to see you again,” said a diminutive girl with waist-length blond hair, smiling brightly.

“Likewise, your Grace,” Teal said in a carefully neutral tone.

“Pshaw, let’s not fuss about that,” the girl replied, waving a hand airily. “We are all equals here, as Professor Tellwyrn has just emphasized at some length. Call me Ravana.”

“If you say so,” Teal replied evenly. Shaeine eased closer to her, moving her hand so that the backs of her knuckles brushed Teal’s.

“Can I ask a question?” said the gnomish woman timidly, raising a hand and peering up at Ruda. “Are you really a princess?”

“Only on my parents’ side,” Ruda said lightly. “C’mon, girl, project from the diaphragm! Are you actually raising your hand? Trust me, outside of Tellwyrn’s class, that’s not gonna do you any good.”

“Ruda, be nice,” Trissiny said reprovingly.

“I am being nice! It’s all about confidence, Boots. C’mon, let me hear you roar!”

The gnome’s eyes widened, and she began sidling behind a tall, dark-skinned girl in a white dress, who was gawking at Gabriel.

“Hmph.” The speaker, whose derisive snort seized everyone’s attention, was a plains elf incongruously dressed in a conservative, old-fashioned human style. “We are going to be late. Come along,” she ordered, grabbing one of the boys—also an elf—by the arm and dragging him off toward the greenhouse. He glanced back at them, smiling timidly and offering a small wave.

“Well, damn,” Ruda said, raising her eyebrows. “Who pissed in her oatmeal?”

“Oh, she’s just like that,” said the girl in white. “Are… You’re Gabriel Arquin, aren’t you? The new paladin!”

“Um…for whatever that’s worth, yes, that’s me,” he said, smiling somewhat awkwardly and settling a hand on the hilt of his sword.

“That’s amazing!” she gushed, eyes shining. “I mean… You’re amazing! To be a demonblood and get to… Augh, I’ve wanted to meet you ever since I heard and when I got accepted here I just, oh I can’t even think!”

“Oh, gods, don’t do that,” Ruda groaned. “He gets a big head over the slightest little thing.”

“And this is my fan club,” said Gabe, turning to Ruda and raising an eyebrow. “Not to worry, if my head starts needing the air let out, I can always count on you to fucking stab me!”

“And he carries a grudge like you wouldn’t believe,” Ruda added, winking. “Anyway, you don’t need me to stab you anymore, Arquin, since you seem determined to carry that thing around.”

“I’m getting better with it,” he said defensively, running a hand over the black sword’s hilt, almost as if he were petting it. “Anyhow, it seems like an appropriate thing to carry, me being a paladin now, and all.”

“You were given a divine weapon,” Trissiny pointed out.

“Yes, but it fits in my pocket,” he said, grinning. “The ancient elven sword is so much more impressive.”

“It’ll be real impressive when you hack your foot off,” said Ruda. “I dunno, Arquin, something about you with a sword will just never look right.”

“Hey,” he protested, “do I give you crap about the special lady in your life?”

“…I can’t even start to deal with all the shit that’s wrong in that sentence.”

The remaining male member of the freshman party stepped forward and bowed directly to Trissiny. “General Avelea, may I say it is an honor to be in your presence, and one I have eagerly anticipated since long before my arrival.”

“Oh,” she said, nonplussed, “that’s kind of you.”

“Forgive me,” the young man replied with a smile. “I should have introduced myself to begin with. I am Sekandar Aldarasi, prince of Calderaas.”

He was dressed casually, in a simple open-collared shirt with pressed slacks. The lack of regalia did not detract from his claim, however; the boy was every bit as good-looking as a prince from a fairy tale would be, and carried himself with the confidence of a man who knew it.

“Wait, prince?” said Fross. “I’m confused. Calderaas is an Imperial province, right? How do they have royalty?”

“Calderaas is one of the original provinces,” said Ravana. “The then-Sultanate of Calderaas formed the alliance with the city-states of the Tira Valley that became the Tiraan Empire. Several of those first provinces still have royal titles, though the rank of king, sultana or whatever is applicable is functionally the same as that of an appointed provincial governor.”

“As the Lady Madouri knows quite well,” said Sekandar, nodding to her with a smile which she returned. He turned back to Trissiny, bowing again. “If it is permissible, General, I would greatly appreciate the opportunity to speak with you further.”

“Of…course,” she said uncertainly.

“For now,” said Ravana, “I think we should all be moving along. It’ll make a poor impression on our professors if we are late on the first day.”

“I shall count the hours till we are together again, my lady!” Gabriel proclaimed grandly, bowing deeply to her and ignoring Ruda’s snort.

“Aren’t you a charming one,” Ravana said with a coquettish flutter of her lashes. “Come along, girls.” The girl in white looked to be on the verge of some kind of outburst, but swallowed heavily and followed meekly along after the much shorter blonde.

The sophomores watched their younger counterparts retreat into the greenhouse in bemused silence.

“Gabe,” Teal said tersely, “not to meddle in your love life, but… Not that one.”

“That’s right,” he said, turning to her. “She implied you know her?”

“I…” She stared after Ravana, expression unreadable. “…am aware of her.”


“So, this is a departure,” Toby commented, peering around at Professor Yornhaldt’s classroom as they wandered into their seats.

“I like it,” said Teal. “Doesn’t seem like his style, though…”

“I’m not sure he did it,” said Juniper, frowning and stroking Jack, who rested in her arms. “There’s a lot of magic at work here. Fae magic. Professor Yornhaldt is an arcanist.”

Most of the room’s accoutrements were the same, but it had gained a great deal of greenery over the summer. The back corners of the room contained artfully arranged clusters of potted ferns, which spilled out in a riot of leafy fronds. Other plants were placed strategically under the windows and along the walls, and in a huge, squat container on the dais itself was a small cherry tree, bursting with lovely pink blossoms, for all that it was completely the wrong season.

“So,” Ruda said, turning in her seat to leer at Trissiny. “That boy was crushing on you hard, General Shiny Boots.”

“What?” Trissiny demanded, her cheeks coloring slightly. “What boy? You mean Prince Sekandar? Nonsense.”

“Oh, come on,” she snorted. “’Such an honor to be in your presence, general.’ He was way into you.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Trissiny snapped. “He was just showing respect to a Hand of Avei. I simply happened to be that Hand.”

“There were three paladins standing right there,” Teal pointed out with a smile. “One of whom is a lot more interesting, for being new and unprecedented in several ways. Not to mention foreign royalty, a demigoddess…”

“Hm, Gabriel the Unprecedented,” Gabe mused. “I like the way that rings. I should have business cards printed up.”

“Calderaas has been heavily Avenist for over a thousand years,” Trissiny said testily. “The old Sultanate was a matriarchy and a lot of its traditions are still alive. Naturally an Aldarasi prince would be more interested in a paladin of Avei.”

“One presumes,” Shaeine observed, “that a prince of any extraction would be sufficiently poised not to snub the other members of a party to whom he was introduced. Unless, of course, he were emotionally overwhelmed by, for example, meeting the object of his distant affections…”

“Not you, too!” Trissiny exclaimed. The drow smiled at her, with only the faintest hint of mischief.

“Yeah, that boy wants you bad,” said Ruda, grinning insanely. “Juno, back me up here!”

“Oh, I don’t like to spread other people’s business around,” the dryad demurred, scratching behind Jack’s antlers. “I can’t help picking up on people’s desires and inclinations, but there’s no reason anyone else should be privy to that information. Everyone’s privacy is important.”

“Thank you, Juniper,” Trissiny said stiffly.

“No dryad business, then,” said Ruda. “Just girl talk, based on what you saw.”

“Oh, just that? Then yeah, he was totally into you.”

“Good morning, class.”

Several of them jumped, all whirling to stare at the dais. No one had seen her enter, but a woman now stood there, beneath the cherry blossoms, smiling mysteriously up at them. She was slender, with luxuriant black hair, almond-shaped eyes and vulpine features, and dressed in a sleek silk robe in dark green with a subtle pattern of white ferns around the hem and cuffs.

Most eye-catchingly, triangular ears, covered in reddish fur, poked up through her hair. A bushy tail extended from behind her, through some apparent opening in her robe, also dusky red and tipped in white. It twitched twice as they stared at her in shocked silence.

The doors of the classroom were infamously squeaky, and were easily within their frame of view. She had not come in that way.

“Let us begin by attending to the obvious, shall we?” said the fox-woman, still with that enigmatic smile. “Professor Yornhaldt is taking an unexpected sabbatical for this semester. I am assuming his duties in the classroom. I am Professor Ekoi, interim teacher of magical arts.” She bowed gracefully, her ears twitching. “And of course, I know each of you by description, and by reputation. You created quite the stir on this campus at the end of the spring term, did you not?

“It is my understanding that last year, you explored the basics of magic—what it is, and how it is used. In my class, you will be learning more specific, more practical things pertaining to that same basic school of thought. We will be examining each of the four common systems of magic, as well as the few which lie outside such classifications, with regard to their actual use. It should be your goal to learn to identify magical objects, creatures, spells and attacks, and understand how each should be dealt with. In short, you have absorbed sufficient theory that you can now begin learning facts. And, more importantly, strategies. You have a question, Mr. Arquin?”

“Yeah,” Gabriel said, lowering his hand. “Um, what exactly are you?”

Professor Ekoi gazed up at him placidly, in silence, until he shifted uncomfortably in his seat and opened his mouth to speak again.

Suddenly she flicked her wrist, and a folded hand fan slipped out of the wide sleeve of her robe, landing neatly in her grip. She swirled it open, covering her face below the eyes and revealing its pattern of calligraphy in a language that wasn’t familiar to them. Then, in a very disorienting spectacle, she twirled the fan in a full circle. It did not visibly grow, and yet it somehow concealed all of her body in passing—and she did not reappear when it moved on. The fan whirled in a complete arc and then vanished into its own center, like water swirling down a drain, leaving nothing behind.

The students gaped down at the empty dais.

“Um,” said Gabriel, “I didn’t mean to yipe!”

“There is endless variety in this world, Mr. Arquin,” Professor Ekoi murmured from right behind him, close enough that he could feel her breath. He could also feel the tips of her sharp nails, resting against his throat. Trissiny half-rose, gripping the hilt of her sword, but made no further movements as the professor continued. “People of every conceivable belief, origin and description. If you are privileged to lead a long life, and to explore the world in all its beauty, you shall come to know the grand diversity of its inhabitants—provided you possess the sense to absorb what you are shown. And you will find, Mr. Arquin, that none of these people enjoy being referred to as a what.”

He hissed softly as the tips of her claws—and those were clearly not just nails—pricked his skin. Five tiny points of blood welled up.

Before he could react physically, she was gone.

And then the professor stepped out from behind the cherry tree, down on the dais. “Except,” she said pleasantly, “for individuals in certain…specialty social clubs one tends to find in the major cities, which you are unlikely to enter or even discover without a specific invitation. For now, we should focus our attention upon the study of magic, children. Now, let us begin.”


Walter tromped through the tallgrass back toward the homestead, four hares strung on the rope thrown over his shoulder. It was early, not even noon yet, but he’d had the luckiest morning of hunting in a good long while, solid enough that he could justify taking the afternoon off. Ma would be happy enough with the meat he brought in to let him go without a fuss…probably. He had his bow in one hand, quiver hanging at his hip—he had a wand, of course, but that was for emergency use against any predators he happened to encounter. Lightning had a bad effect on game. All in all, he was in a great mood, whistling as he walked.

As such, he wasn’t paying terribly close attention, lost in his thoughts, and didn’t spot the other person coming toward him until Smitty barked. The hound was staring, on point but not growling, meaning he didn’t sense a threat. That was generally good enough for Walter; he found dogs were the best judges of character.

Then the individual coming toward him through the tallgrass pushed aside a particularly dense clump, coming fully into view, and he froze, almost dropping his bow and hares.

She was a girl, looking to be about his age, maybe a few years older, and stunningly beautiful in a way he only saw in magazine illustrations and never before on an actual woman. Also, she had pale green hair and was stark naked. He’d have been hard pressed to say which of those traits commanded more of his attention.

“Hello!” the nude girl said brightly.

“Uh… H-hi,” Walter choked out, then swallowed, struggling valiantly to keep his eyes on her face, a battle he knew he was doomed to lose. Not that it wasn’t a gorgeous face, but she also had gorgeous breasts, and he’d never actually seen… He gulped again, trying desperately to maintain an even keel. “Um, can I…help you with something, miss?”

She tilted her head to one side as if thinking, and suddenly frowned. “Maybe. Did you kill my sister?”

That made even less sense to Walter than her appearance and manner, but luckily he had a ready and truthful answer to it. “No, ma’am, I didn’t.”

“Oh, okay, then,” she said, that dazzling smile returning. “Maybe you can give me directions! Am I still headed toward Last Rock? Is it close?”

Last Rock. It figured. Ma always said the only downside of living out here was the proximity to that place.

“You’re headin’ the right way,” he said, looking at her chest again in spite of himself. “It’s about thirty miles on. Careful not to stray too far north or you’ll be in the Golden Sea.”

“Oh, I know all about that,” she said dismissively, taking a step closer.

Smitty whined, and instantly Walter was on full alert. The hound pressed hard against his leg, clearly frightened. His teenage hormones were telling him one thing, but the dog told him something very different—and he knew quite well which was more trustworthy.

“Since you offered to help, though,” she said, licking her lips and smiling broadly, “I’m kinda hungry. Can I have a couple of your rabbits?”

“Oh,” he said, easing backward from her. “I, uh…” It had been a lucky morning, true, and he had ample time to go back out and hunt more… But this was a significant amount of good meat, not to mention what the pelts would sell for.

“Don’t worry, I’d make it worth your while,” the girl promised, stepping forward again, her smile widening. “Would you like to have sex?”

He very nearly exploded on the spot. Ma was forever going on about how boys his age had exactly one thing on their minds, and to be truthful, that thing was very much on his mind right now. Meeting a nude beauty in the tallgrass and receiving such an offer…this was a situation straight out of some of his more absurd fantasies.

But Smitty wasn’t the only one whose instincts were jangling, now. Walter had looked into the eyes of predators before.

“Tell ya what,” he said carefully. With the slow, even movements he knew wouldn’t startle or provoke a wild animal, he pulled the string of hares from his shoulder and held it out toward her. “You just help yourself, my treat. I’ve gotta get home.”

“Aw, you sure?” she said, pouting slightly even as she took the hares. Her warm brown eyes flicked up and down his body, making his pulse accelerate. “I wasn’t just offering a trade. I think it’d be swell to stop and make love. Don’t you?”

Walter had to gulp twice before he could speak again. That would be swell. But Ma, it seemed, wasn’t wrong about everything; the very, very bad feeling he had about this was more powerful than lust. Her knowing smirk widened, almost as if she could tell what he was thinking. Maisie Taathir down at the trading post sometimes gave him that impression, especially when she caught him sneaking a peek at her bum, but…not like this.

“I really have to go,” he repeated. Smitty whined again.

“Okay, then,” she said with a shrug that did extremely interesting things to her chest.

Walter tipped his hat to her, backed up a few steps, then half-turned to set off in a wide arc around her, keeping her in his peripheral view.

As he watched, she licked her lips again, then calmly ripped a leg off one of the hares and bit into it, fur and all. Bone crunched audibly and she made a soft sound of approval.

He didn’t walk backward, but kept going in the slightly wrong direction at an angle until a more comfortable distance had stretched out between them. Even then, Walter very carefully kept his pace measured as he and Smitty left the girl behind.

It was, as he knew very well, a bad idea to run from a predator.

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