《The Last Witch》


 Chapter 1.1 - A City Disappears

    On the eve of a midsummer night, an entire city disappeared without a trace.


    Asher arrived at an outpost outside the border of Valenda two weeks later, expecting a ghost town, expecting empty buildings and overgrowth. The men guarding the road were sullen enough to prove the image. They weren¡¯t soldiers by any standard, and if Asher was back home he would have smacked each of them upside the head for slinging loaded rifles around so casually. None of them turned those guns on him as the horse came to a stop though, and he appreciated that. Each one of them were built like farmers or labour men, rough around the edges with wear and tear on their clothes. As Asher dropped down from the front of the carriage, his legs protesting at the stiffness from hours of travel. One of the farmers broke away from the group, stepping around a splintered old cart and approaching him. The driver pulling the carriage gripped the reigns as if weighting for Asher¡¯s signal to turn and run.


    ¡®Sorry for the show, sir,¡¯ the leader said. ¡®We¡¯ve been told not to let anyone past this point ¡®less they in uniform.¡¯


    Asher nodded, though the sight of civilians guarding the road so openly made something in the base of his stomach squirm. The whole reason he was here was because they needed the extra hand, but nothing in the letter had described a situation so desperate. The man in front of him seemed calm at least. He was rough around the edges, muscles chiseled into shirt and skin, with worn, calloused hands and a thick beard covering half his face.


    ¡®Where you hailing from?¡¯ the man asked.


    ¡®Ralkauda,¡¯ Asher said.


    ¡®City boy! You been this far north before?¡¯


    ¡®Not on this road.¡¯


    The man chuckled. ¡®We won¡¯t lead you astray. Name¡¯s Clyde.¡¯ He held out his hand. ¡®I been running the boys between here and the site.¡¯


    Asher shook his hand. ¡®Lieutenant Wulverman.¡¯


    ¡®Ah, you¡¯re the public response,¡¯ Clyde said. ¡®I¡¯m glad I¡¯m talking to you first. Situation is a mess right now, and I¡¯m only one of three people who¡¯s been going back and forth frequently.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯m not here to step on anyone¡¯s toes,¡¯ Asher said.


    ¡®I¡¯ll take your word for it,¡¯ Clyde said. He moved over to the carriage still waiting, and Asher took the moment to stroke the head of the great mare that pulled it. She gave a tired huff in return. Clyde spoke quietly to the driver, then motioned Asher back as the vehicle turned on the road and made its way back the way it came.


    ¡®We got lodging for the people coming in,¡¯ Clyde said. He clapped Asher on the shoulder hard enough to make him stumble. ¡®Come on, I¡¯ll walk you up.¡¯


    The barricade parted as the two of them stepped through, and Asher noted the details of the men watching him. They were all burlier than him, dirty and sullen and tense. Only a couple of them didn¡¯t have a rifle slung over their arm.


    ¡®I hope those aren¡¯t for people,¡¯ he mumbled.


    ¡®The guns? Nah.¡¯ Clyde shook his head. ¡®My boys would never aim at another human being. Most of them are scared is all.¡¯


    ¡®Is it really that bad?¡¯ Asher asked.


    Clyde grimaced, which Asher took as a bad sign. ¡®How much were you told before you decided to come out here?¡¯


    Decided is a strong word. ¡®Only that Valenda disappeared,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®Everyone¡¯s gone, and no-one knows where. I don¡¯t know much more then that.¡¯


    ¡®You¡¯re expecting a ghost town, aren¡¯t you?¡¯ Clyde chuckled at Asher¡¯s blank look. ¡®You¡¯re not ready for this.¡¯


    Clyde didn¡¯t elaborate as they made their way further up the road. The pine trees grew thicker on each side, and Asher noted the gentle rise of the gravel in front of him. It wasn¡¯t enough to strain his legs, but it was enough of a hill to block what was coming. Clyde said nothing, and Asher tried to remember if the correspondence had said anything else. There hadn¡¯t been much of a request; the letter had only explained that he would be relocated to Dalvany to deal with a shortage of men on the ground and a ¡°crisis in Valenda.¡± Namely, that Valenda had disappeared.


    The road dropped down in front of them, and Asher recoiled. The letter had been far more literal than he expected.


    He¡¯d only been to Valenda once as a teen, though he still remembered the view from the road. Tall cobblestone buildings all pressed in winding, circular roads. He remembered pointed roofs and Telkite patterns carved into walls, and in the centre of it all, the Tarneyan Palace. What had started as a battle fortress overlooking the valley had been repurposed as a great house of grandeur, and as the city grew around the moat, the palace added rooms and buildings, and stretched out with the population.


    Now, he saw nothing but empty field. There was only grass as far as he could see. Even the road ¨C the very road he was standing on right now ¨C ended a few paces in front of him. The sun hung low over the scene where it would usually be hidden by buildings and mountains. Asher eased his foot forward, hoping this was some illusion, but Clyde caught his arm and pulled him back.


    ¡®I¡¯d be careful,¡¯ he said. ¡®Ground is really weird.¡¯


    He gestured down to the road in front of them, and Asher noticed a thick black line carving through the road, a perfect border between normal and unnatural. He kicked a loose stone toward it, and it touched the ring and disappeared, slipping into a crack that hadn¡¯t been visible until now.


    ¡®Deeper than it looks,¡¯ Clyde said. ¡®But your lot have a tent set up that way.¡¯


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    The makeshift tent sat on the normal side of the line, a large black cloth propped haphazardly on particularly tall sticks. A table sat underneath, maps and papers scattered across the surface. A small handful of people milled around it, some in the official watch uniform like Asher, and some in the royal maroon tunics of the palace guard. One such guard had his back to Asher, but the familiar flash of dusty brown hair made his stomach lurch.


    Captain Navarre Chavereau had a figure that looked like it was carved out of marble. In the years since Asher had seen the man, he hadn¡¯t changed. Deft hands with long fingers, a sharp jaw and long face. Even when they were teenagers, Navarre always towered over him. Now, years later, he had a foot over the others around him, his body stretched and bony, showing the familiar bars of muscle. He turned, and pale brown eyes lock onto Asher. A sharp, toothy smile spread across Navarre¡¯s face.


    ¡®Well, look at you!¡¯ Navarre exclaimed. He straightened and glanced Asher up and down. Asher felt his neck flush red. The uniform was new, the leather collar stiff and high around his neck, the half cape slung over his shoulder and the threaded bronze knots that tied the buttons together. ¡®All dressed up in your fancy little uniform. You¡¯re still a dock boy to me.¡¯


    ¡®And you¡¯re still a dick,¡¯ Asher returned. Navarre chuckled and they both slapped their hands together in a firm handshake, which turned into a short hug.


    ¡®How long since you made Lieutenant?¡¯ Navarre asked. ¡®I wondered why your name came up. I thought you were still city watch.¡¯


    ¡®I am still city watch,¡¯ Asher pointed out. ¡®I¡¯m just in charge down there now.¡¯ Though it had only been six weeks, and ten of those days had been on the road coming up here.


    ¡®Well, you¡¯re up here with the big boys now,¡¯ Navarre said.


    Asher glanced to Clyde, then realised with a start he was marching back down the road. ¡®Clyde said I was pulled in for public response.¡¯


    ¡®Who¡¯s Cly¡ª oh, him.¡¯ Navarre sighed. ¡®It¡¯s a long story. Well, I don¡¯t need to tell you.¡¯ He gestured to the empty field next to them. ¡®Come on, let¡¯s go for a walk.¡¯


    Navarre tested the ground beneath his boot, prodding at the ash line in the grass, then stepping over it completely. Asher stared after him, and when nothing happened, he leapt over the line and rushed after the man. The grass was fresh and bright beneath his feet, flattening under his boot and bouncing back up as he stepped away. The smell twinged at his nose. It was real. It was all real.


    ¡®What happened?¡¯ he asked.


    Navarre blew out a breath. ¡®I can¡¯t tell you. I was down in Fanmaryh sorting some stuff with the Duke. I¡¯ve only been here for about a week. All I can say is what you see. Valenda is gone. It¡¯s just¡­¡¯ he threw his hand up, sweeping it across the vast empty space.


    ¡®That¡¯s why you sent for me?¡¯ Asher asked. ¡®The people are missing too.¡¯


    ¡®The people, the palace, the other guards, Valenda¡¯s city watch¡­ the King.¡¯ Navarre sighed. ¡®Dalvany is way too small, it can¡¯t take the shitstorm that¡¯s about to hit us.¡¯


    ¡®Shit.¡¯ Asher could only stare. The King. ¡®Do we at least have a chain of command?¡¯


    Navarre gave a short and sharp laugh. ¡®The only living brother he has is the Duke of Fanmaryh, and he¡¯s inches from death. Like I said, we¡¯re gonna get messy quick. No-one can decide if we go with the Delana kid because the Fanmaryh Duke is the last living brother, or if we give it to Armel Barque because Lord Barque was the next oldest brother before he died.¡¯


    ¡®We don¡¯t have that figured out?¡¯ Asher asked. ¡®The man is eighty-seven years old.¡¯


    ¡®Well sure,¡¯ Navarre said. ¡®We had a few heir apparents, a few advisors ready to step in, but they¡¯re not here either.¡¯


    Asher ran his hands through his hair, his fingers catching in his thick black curls. Navarre reached over and ruffled the mop at the back. ¡®Don¡¯t worry about that. If you think about it too much you¡¯ll start going grey. All I need from you is to act as a go-between.¡¯


    ¡®When you said public response, I thought you meant making sure a riot doesn¡¯t break out.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯d appreciate if you added that to your itinerary.¡¯ Navarre flashed a grin. ¡®The boys at Dalvany have their own plans, but they don¡¯t have people. Most of the ones you passed are volunteers from the farmlands. Civil servant types.¡¯


    ¡®The farms will feel it if they lose too many workers,¡¯ Asher commented.


    ¡®Yeah, they will,¡¯ Navarre said. ¡®Which is why we¡¯re bringing in people from other provinces. We need to get this under control before it snowballs. Right now the issue is that there¡¯s a lot of people who don¡¯t trust us big boys, and the watch is getting stretched thin running back and forth. It¡¯s why I jumped when I saw your name. We¡¯ve worked together before, and you¡¯re clearly doing well.¡¯ He gestured to Asher¡¯s uniform.


    ¡®We¡¯ve never worked together,¡¯ Asher pointed out.


    ¡®True, but we know each other well enough.¡¯ Navarre winked. ¡®These old sods aren¡¯t gonna be convinced by some story about going to the same boarding school. They¡¯re not gonna like having a civil servant sitting at the rich man¡¯s table either.¡¯


    Asher nodded absently. In the end it really didn¡¯t matter why. This situation was so bizarre that he couldn¡¯t walk away, and even if he wasn¡¯t here now, news would spread quickly enough. The scale was too much to consider to feel anything other than confusion. Valenda¡¯s population sat somewhere around a hundred and thirty thousand people, including the in-house palace staff and the range of royals permanently in the palace. Dalvany next door only hosted about twelve thousand in total. The idea that so many people had vanished without a trace was impossible, so impossible that he couldn¡¯t feel loss or fear at the idea. Only confusion at how a field now stretched across the space where a city had existed two weeks ago.


    He would need to check in with the local authorities. Someone had to have seen something.


    ¡®Dalvany¡¯s Lieutenant,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®How are they faring?¡¯


    ¡®She¡¯s stretched thin,¡¯ Navarre said. ¡®Wrangling those trigger happy commoners like children, keeping things calm. She¡¯ll give you the full story tomorrow when you get back to town.¡¯


    ¡®Tomorrow?¡¯ Asher echoed. ¡®I¡¯d rather touch base as soon as possible.¡¯


    ¡®Sundown is in an hour, and you haven¡¯t met with everyone here,¡¯ Navarre pointed out.


    Asher bit his lip. The man had a point.


    Something caught his eye, a flash of colour in the grass that popped out beneath the blades. Noting where he stood, he crouched down and prodded at the nearby grass with his finger. Navarre made a small noise of protest, but didn¡¯t say anything.


    It was a sapling, the beginning sprout of a bush or tree, but the leaves were red. They were the colour of a sunset in smoke, the veins of the leaves so vibrant they seemed to glow in the light of the afternoon. Asher knew better than to touch it with his bare skin, but there was something that pulled him to run the edge along his finger. A hypnotic quality that turned the air around the strange plant.


    ¡®Do we have a botanist nearby?¡¯ he asked Navarre.


    ¡®He should still be around,¡¯ Navarre said. ¡®Wait here, and don¡¯t touch that.¡¯


    Asher scanned the ground around him as the other man rushed off, and noted others buried in the grass. They weren¡¯t spread in any kind of pattern, but there were many of them. They were developed enough to be sprouting leaves, but didn¡¯t stand taller than the grass.


    Asher rose to see where Navarre got to, and instead caught sight of a shadow in the distance.


    This stranger stood alone in the field, wearing a tattered green cloak that wrapped around their front and their head. and shielded their face. They were too far to make out any key details, but Asher could see brown skin along their legs and arms, and a complete disarray to their appearance. Definitely not refined in the way of the guards or officials, but too ruined to be a farmer either.


    Asher took a step forward, and the stranger turned. Two bright orange lights flashed where their eyes should have been, flickering like flames against a shadowed face. Asher recoiled, and he glanced back to see if anyone else had noticed, but when he straightened, the stranger and their strange eyes were gone.

 Chapter 1.2 - At the Stake

    Asher suspected the lodgings for outside company wasn¡¯t in Dalvany¡¯s town proper. He hoped some of the farmers further south would open their homes, but now knew that asking that of them would be too much on an already strained workload. That left only one other option though. He wasn¡¯t the type to pray, but he would start if it meant he could stay away from Dalvany Manor.


    There was only one official road between Valenda and Dalvany; a narrow dirt indent surrounded by thick pine trees, the shadows long and the terrain uneven. The carriage rattled along uncomfortably, knocking Asher from side to side, and there was no indication out of the little curtained window whether they were travelling for six hours to the manor, or seven to reach the town. Either way, it had already been a long trip, and there was still a long way to go.


    Navarre was the only other person in the carriage with him, both of them in a space that held less than four people. Asher didn¡¯t want to imagine how cramped it would be in the rest of the procession. Even with just the two of them it was much too tight. No matter how much Asher shifted, his knee pressed against Navarre¡¯s, and the contact was a little too firm to be comfortable.


    Navarre didn¡¯t seem to notice. He was focused intently on papers piled in his lap, with small spectacles balancing on his nose. Up close, his age showed more obviously, with crows feet pinching at his eyes and lines creasing his forehead. They did nothing to lessen the stone-like appearance of his features. Instead, he looked even more like a sculpture carefully carved by a loving hand. The smallest dents in his straight nose, the firm line of his jaw, the lines of sinew running down his neck. He¡¯d always had impossibly sharp features, even when they were teenagers, but age had only refined him further.


    Navarre glanced over his spectacles, and pale brown eyes locked onto him. Asher felt heat rush to his face, moreso when Navarre winked at him.


    He turned his attention to the window instead. Asher pulled the curtain back, then immediately regretted it as the sight beyond burned into his brain. They had reached the edge of the wild parts of the forest. The thick pines gave way to a flatter plateau, breaking up into shining clearings. On a strip of grass just beyond the road was a large, wooden beam propped up higher than the roof of the carriage. Four bodies hung from the beam, the rope wrapped around their neck, their heads crooked and their bodies limp. He pushed the curtain closed again.


    ¡®Yeah, a lot of that these last few years,¡¯ Navarre said. ¡®Record when I started with the Guard we hung two witches a year, maybe? We¡¯ve had six in the last few months.¡¯


    Asher didn¡¯t say anything. He¡¯d always considered the stories of the underlands to be more metaphorical than a real place, something that could let the most zealous of people guilt others away from wrongdoing. He didn¡¯t believe it was a wasteland of corruption filled with evil little monsters, and he believed less so that living people were acting on the orders of those evil little monsters. Those stories of a prison world where the most evil of evil people existed¡­ it had only ever been a moral scare tactic. Whatever crime these people were committing, claiming to hear the voices of demons wasn¡¯t enough of a reason to execute anyone.


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    ¡®People are getting panicked,¡¯ Navarre said. ¡®Dalvany¡¯s Lieutenant will fill you in tomorrow.¡¯


    ¡®Panicked enough for ¡°witchcraft?¡±¡¯ Asher asked.


    Navarre shrugged. ¡®Not my jurisdiction. I¡¯d say some people are looking for some kind of scapegoat, and they¡¯re getting a bit fanatical.¡¯


    Enough to hang people, Asher added silently. He made another internal note to check how much the public did know. Dalvany sat in a valley and Valenda on the mountain; it was easy to see the top turrets of the palace from the town centre, so people would notice it was gone. Also, people talked. He¡¯d spent enough time patrolling the streets to know how fast news spread, and people weren¡¯t stupid. The people in town would know very well what was happening up north, but someone would be working to contain it, and he needed to know how much was fact and how much was speculation.


    ¡®Something on your mind?¡¯ Navarre asked. There was a mocking tone to the words, because of course he already knew the answer.


    ¡®Just thinking about what I need to do next,¡¯ Asher said. If he took this one step at a time, then it wasn¡¯t so impossible. There was an explaination to all of this. Somewhere. He would start by touching base with the Lieutenant, figuring out how much he needed to step in to help, and just how much chaos was about to break out.


    One step at a time.


    ¡®I¡¯ll tell you how this is going to happen tonight,¡¯ Navarre said. ¡®I¡¯m dragging you into the big leagues to get an idea of what¡¯s left of the governing class. You¡¯ll get a clear idea of how we¡¯re doing things, and you can take that to everyone else tomorrow.¡¯


    ¡®So I¡¯m the messenger?¡¯ Asher asked.


    ¡®Pretty much,¡¯ Navarre said. ¡®Most of the people in town don¡¯t like us palace types, and you¡¯ve got enough experience in both to not see those same palace types stick their nose up at you.¡¯


    ¡®Experience?¡¯ Asher echoed. ¡®Because I went to Beau Jordeaux?¡¯


    ¡®That¡¯s part of it,¡¯ Navarre said. ¡®It got my recommendation.¡¯ He winked. ¡®But ¡ªand don¡¯t freak out¡ª your father plays a part in it.¡¯


    Asher¡¯s stomach churned. Suddenly so many questions had been answered. Why he specifically was sought out, and where exactly they were going now.


    ¡®Don¡¯t start,¡¯ Navarre said.


    ¡®I didn¡¯t say anything.¡¯


    ¡®No, but you¡¯ve got that look on your face,¡¯ Navarre said. ¡®Quick fact about Lord Barque, the man makes a cobweb look futuristic. If you had any other name, you wouldn¡¯t have been thought about. Add on that your a Telkite ¨C I know, I know, you¡¯re not ¡ª and it¡¯s a concoction of you being a ¡°tekksie¡± and holding a noble standing that¡¯s going to keep that old grouch off your back.¡¯


    Asher glared at him. The thought of using his father¡¯s reputation sent a slimy feeling across his skin. It was dishonest, and it was cheap. Even if it was there just to appeal to old tradition, it only made everything else feel unnatural. Perhaps his promotion to Lieutenant was just to stop the son of the King¡¯s General from being a simple grunt. Perhaps he joined the city watch in the first place because no-one said no to the son of the King¡¯s General. It didn¡¯t matter how much work he put in, or who his father actually was, what either of them wanted. As long as it didn¡¯t look disgraceful to people he didn¡¯t know.


    On top of that, he would have to brace for comments about his connection to Telkesi.


    ¡®Chin up.¡¯ Navarre knocked his knee against Asher¡¯s. ¡®It¡¯s about to get a lot worse yet.¡¯


    ¡®Thanks,¡¯ Asher muttered. ¡®So we¡¯re lodged at Dalvany Manor then?¡¯


    ¡®It¡¯s the only place that can hold so many visitors,¡¯ Navarre said. ¡®Besides, these are royals and they¡¯re not going to sleep in any old inn. It means you¡¯ll have to suck it up for a night or too.¡¯


    ¡®Thanks for the heads up,¡¯ Asher mumbled. At least he had a moment to prepare. He was a professional; he could handle this.

 Chapter 1.3 - A Kingdom with no King

    Dalvany Manor looked exactly how Asher had imagined it. A giant, ornate black gate creaked open as the carriage approached, and the fields gave way to the edges of the forest that bordered the territory. The Manor itself was old and elegant, a U shaped, boxy structure with dark tiling and iron balconies lining each shuttered window. A fountain sat still out the front of the sweeping balcony, its curving iron pillars twisting around the inside of the curve. The carriage came around the fountain and pulled to a stop by the front door. The driver opened the carriage door to let them both out, and Navarre swept his arm out in a fancy display. ¡®How does this feel for accommodation?¡¯


    ¡®Like it¡¯s going to be a long night,¡¯ Asher mumbled. The reminder that he was about to see his very estranged aunt crashed into the front of his mind. Before Navarre could reply, he stepped up to the large mahogany doors and pulled them open. The inside was as grand as the outside, the foyer opening to a staircase that rolled around the outer walls up to a dark banister opening up to the second floor. Square pillars sat in each corner, each holding a vase full of blooming roses of various colours. Everything looked freshly clean and a little over polished, and voices echoed out from a side room. A maid approached and offered to take his cloak, but he waved her away. As long as he could fiddle with something and not look unprofessional, he was going to take it.


    There were no signs of any others in the great house, servant or otherwise, and Asher opened his mouth to ask when glass shattered in the next room.


    Asher rushed through the door beside the staircase, with Navarre close on his heels. The dining hall was full, people sitting sporadically along the polished mahogany, while other handfuls of people stood to the side, deep in hushed conversation. The sky was painted a violent orange outside of the large windows that lined the wall, and the chandelier above the table threw dancing candlelight across the room. The table itself was covered in a feast that could feed double the people in the room; fresh meats freshly smoked, steaming vegetables and cocktail bowls of fish and fruit. Many of the wine bottles had been opened and were half-empty, the rest unevenly spread into glasses around the table.


    Standing at the head of the table was the Duchess Evelyn Tremboui.


    She stood stiff, her shoulders hunched and her fists clenched red. The anger staining her neck and face stood out moreso against her white dress. Nothing about her had changed since Asher was a boy; the dress was wide at the waist and covered in frills and lace, with a low neckline and black satin gloves. Her face was painted white except for the mole above red puckered lips, and her black wig sat tall and ribboned, only a stray blonde lock on her neck betraying the true colour beneath. Standing with her was another man Asher recognised, though more recent in his memory and for different reasons.


    Lord Magnus Barque was not officially the ruling Duke of Dalvany, but since the man¡¯s older brother had taken over from their father, Asher had only ever seen Lord Barque in an official setting. He was tall and square around the middle, his face covered in a peppered beard that sat short and even over a long face. His equally dark hair was parted and slicked back, drawing attention to thick eyebrows and narrow, hollowed, dark eyes. He too was dressed decadently, his suit a fine purple and adorned with a cravat puffing from his collar. His riding shoes had polished heels, and they clicked as he turned away from Evelyn and glanced over Navarre and Asher.


    Asher felt the training from his grunt days possess his body, forcing his limbs stiff and straight. The logical part of his mind knew that royals would be here, and these people in the same room as him would be the children and grandchildren of the King himself, born to the five princes that overtook the throne all sixty years ago. Still, Lord Barque told all of that with aura alone. The man had royalty hammered into every inch of his skin. Asher was not noble, or royal. He was a worm in comparison.


    Navarre clapped him on the back hard enough to break him out of his momentary daze, then stepped around him and approached the Lord with a handshake. Evelyn fixed her attention on Asher, and the slimy feeling returned, but Asher realised with a start that she was crying. Not obviously, because she was too regal to show it openly, but her eyes were red and there was a pinch to her cheek that promised an outburst. The broken wine bottle and dark stain on the carpet at her feet told him it might have already started.


    Navarre cursed then, and glanced at Asher, then to Evelyn. A few heads turned to mimic the motion, and Asher felt himself shrink back. ¡®What¡¯s going on?¡¯ he asked no-one in particular.


    Navarre sighed, and gave another sideways glance to Evelyn, who huffed. ¡®Now that my nephew is here, this is over, right? I won¡¯t listen to any more of this. Ashy will be perfect to fill in.¡¯


    Here we go. ¡®I¡¯m sure I¡¯m unqualified and don¡¯t have an interest in whatever it is,¡¯ he said.


    Evelyn¡¯s lip curled. Usually it took a couple of hours for her fuse to blow, but it had been years. Maybe it burned a lot shorter these days.


    ¡®Asher,¡¯ Navarre¡¯s voice was low. ¡®Lord Tremboui was in the Palace. He left over two weeks ago.¡¯


    ¡®Oh.¡¯ Asher said. Then, silently, shit.


    The scene in front of him made sense now, and he forced himself to pull back the usual defenses he saved for his aunt. He¡¯d never even met his Uncle Henri in person, but the Duke of Dalvany being missing with everyone in Valenda... The situation was already worse than he thought. He glanced over at Evelyn, who suddenly wasn¡¯t meeting his eye.


    ¡®While I understand your thought process, it won¡¯t work,¡¯ Lord Barque said. ¡®You are more than welcome to stand in for Lord Tremboui, but you¡¯ve already made a case against it. Asher is your bloodline, not Henri¡¯s. He¡¯s invalid.¡¯


    ¡®That means there isn¡¯t someone to take the--¡¯ Asher snapped his mouth shut as Evelyn threw him an angry look. It wasn¡¯t wrong to point it out; neither of them had kids. Was it really still a sore subject after all these years? A few of the royals around the table shifted uncomfortably, and Asher fought the urge to curl his lip. He didn¡¯t know anyone here apart from Navarre, but they all seemed to know about him and his complicated relationship with this woman.


    Keep it professional.


    ¡®Perhaps the Lieutenant and I can take the madam into the next ro--¡¯


    ¡®I am not going anywhere,¡¯ Evelyn growled. ¡®Asher is capable of doing the work. I will not have some Euthrian brat coming in and taking everything over.¡¯


    ¡®Easy,¡¯ Asher warned. He stole a glance to Navarre, who glanced at Lord Barque, equally confused. Asher risked a step forward.


    ¡®Asher is family. He¡¯s the nephew of the Lord of Dalvany,¡¯ Evelyn said. ¡®That has to mean something!¡¯


    ¡®Not really,¡¯ Asher said. She knew that though. They¡¯d had this conversation before, and it always ended the same way. Hopefully now he was old enough she wouldn¡¯t slap him. ¡®I¡¯m not a Lord, Evelyn,¡¯ he said. ¡®You know that. There are people ranked higher than me back in Ralkauda. I¡¯m not even a resident of this province.¡¯


    ¡®Neither is this little bitch,¡¯ Evelyn snapped.


    ¡®I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®But we need to take a deep breath here.¡¯


    One of the royal men turned in his seat to say something, but Asher held his hand up to silence him. Whatever the story was, he wasn¡¯t about to hear it from a stranger. He eased towards Evelyn, and when he was close she reached out and gripped his arms tight. It took effort not to flinch away.


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    ¡®Can¡¯t you do this, Ashy?¡¯ she asked. ¡®Please? There¡¯s no need for any fuss if you¡¯d just step in for your uncle and I.¡¯


    ¡®Evelyn, I¡¯m not going to run the province,¡¯ Asher pressed. ¡®Who are they bringing in instead?¡¯


    Evelyn¡¯s lip curled. She didn¡¯t bother to hide her disdain, nor did she stop the tear from spilling onto her cheek. ¡®None of it is true,¡¯ she whispered. ¡®They¡¯re lying to me. This woman is lying. It¡¯s not true.¡¯


    ¡®Lying about what?¡¯ Asher asked. ¡®Tell me and we can sort it out.¡¯


    ¡®They¡¯re saying that Henri had a kid. The same time you were born.¡¯ Evelyn¡¯s voice was a whisper. ¡®Henri couldn¡¯t have children. You know that. I know that. Tell them it¡¯s not possible. This whore in Euthria is lying.¡¯


    Asher glanced over at Lord Barque, who gave a small nod, his gaze sharp. Asher felt his stomach churn. ¡®Did Uncle Henri fight in the war?¡¯ he asked.


    Evelyn recoiled. ¡®Of course he did. What kind of question is that?¡¯


    A man who would have been in Euthria around the time this mystery child was born. Another single nod from Lord Barque confirmed it. Even though Evelyn had married Lord Tremboui four years before the war started.


    ¡®Shit,¡¯ he hissed.


    ¡®Don¡¯t use that word,¡¯ Evelyn snapped. ¡®It¡¯s not true. None of this is. And I don¡¯t want to hear that excuse of you not being good enough. She¡¯s not even part of this Kingdom.¡¯


    ¡®Actually,¡¯ Lord Barque leaned over. ¡®She was born in Telkesi, so yes she is.¡¯


    Evelyn¡¯s face twisted further, and Asher felt a stone in his stomach drop. The last thing he needed was an upset Evelyn given the chance to talk about the island.


    ¡®Well that tracks,¡¯ her voice was low. ¡®A tekksie rat manipulating her way up the ranks. These people are shameless.¡¯


    ¡®Hey.¡¯ Asher bit the word at her, but Evelyn only glowered at him.


    ¡®Oh, I¡¯ll say it,¡¯ she snapped. ¡®Your mother was the same. A dirty little thing who ruined your fathers reputation, and now they¡¯re trying to do the same thing to my Henri!¡¯


    ¡®No,¡¯ Asher said. When she opened her mouth again, he held up his hand to silence her. ¡®No. Don¡¯t you start with this. There¡¯s no reputation being destroyed. There¡¯s no secret conspiracy. You need to calm down.¡¯


    ¡®I will not allow this little brat to--¡¯


    ¡®Stop it.¡¯ Asher glared at her, and she finally clapped her lips shut. ¡®I know you¡¯re upset, okay? I know. But don¡¯t drag my mother into this, and don¡¯t blame this new kid either. They have nothing to do with this.¡¯


    ¡®She¡¯s about to walk in here and--¡¯


    ¡®And she¡¯s either been told the same story you have, or she¡¯s being pulled to the other side of the Kingdom to take on a very big role. She isn¡¯t to blame here. She¡¯s going to need help.¡¯ Asher held his aunt¡¯s gaze, unblinking, and another tear slid down her cheek. ¡®Will you at least help her?¡¯


    ¡®I owe nothing to this girl,¡¯ Evelyn growled.


    ¡®If you don¡¯t want her coming in and changing everything around you, you could at least show her how it all works,¡¯ Asher pointed out.


    Evelyn opened her mouth to argue, then snapped it shut again. She then sighed and raised a gloved hand to Asher¡¯s face. ¡®Why couldn¡¯t you stay with us and be heir instead. Why did you stay with that dock woman like a commoner?¡¯


    Asher pulled her hand away from his face and squeezed her fingers. ¡®We¡¯re not talking about this now.¡¯


    ¡®Your father would be disappointed in you.¡¯


    ¡®My father is dead,¡¯ Asher pressed. When Evelyn recoiled again, he squeezed her fingers harder. ¡®You both started out as farmers, remember? Father earned his position.¡¯ And you married into royalty so you didn¡¯t have to. ¡®Don¡¯t worry about me. Can you promise to be nice?¡¯


    Evelyn stared at him for a long beat, then sighed and gave a resigned nod.


    ¡®Do you want to lie down?¡¯


    She nodded again. Asher couldn¡¯t bring himself to be mad about the comments on his mother. He only felt waves of pity as she gripped his arms tight, not moving and not allowing him to move either. He didn¡¯t know much about Henri Tremboui - he barely knew the woman in front of him - but the man had messed up, and Evelyn was paying for it now. Her anger wasn¡¯t her fault, and he didn¡¯t blame her.


    Lord Barque cleared his throat, and Asher snapped to attention, thankful for the excuse to break away from Evelyn¡¯s grip. He pressed his fist into his chest in salute, and Lord Barque nodded in acknowledgment. ¡®Perhaps we should have a quick word, you and I.¡¯


    ¡®Yes, sir.¡¯ Asher batted away Evelyn¡¯s pawing at his arm, and stepped around the table, following the duke back out into the foyer. The click of footsteps behind him told him that Navarre was also following. When they broke into the privacy at the front of the house, Navarre dropped down onto the bottom stairs, stretching out his legs and falling back. Lord Barque made a noise of disdain, but Navarre ignored him. Asher tried not to squirm. Navarre might have worked directly for the King, but even he didn¡¯t hold authority over a Duke. If the Captain of the Royal Guard was able to show such casualness, there had to be far more serious topics at play, and anything that serious wasn¡¯t a good thing.


    ¡®We should meet officially,¡¯ Lord Barque said. He held out his hand, which Asher slowly shook. ¡®I¡¯m leading this investigation into the King¡¯s disappearance. Magnus. Barque. Though just Magnus is fine in these quiet parts. All I know about you is that Navarre gave an... enthusiastic introduction.¡¯


    Navarre gave a sheepish shrug.


    ¡®Lieutenant Asher Wulverman, sir,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®I¡¯m usually stationed in Ralk--¡¯


    ¡®Wulverman?¡¯ Magnus echoed. His brow creased. ¡®You¡¯re Wilhelm¡¯s boy?¡¯


    ¡®Yes, sir.¡¯


    ¡®He was a good man,¡¯ Magnus said. ¡®We stood together in leadership back during Telkesi Gap. Wouldn¡¯t have fought any war with any other man. I was sorry to hear about his loss.¡¯


    ¡®Uh... thanks,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®I¡¯m sorry, sir, I don¡¯t remember much about him.¡¯


    ¡®No, of course not,¡¯ Magnus said. ¡®Though he spoke of you. And Tasa. He loved you both dearly. It looks to me like they raised a fine young gentleman. You went to Beau Jordeaux as well?¡¯


    ¡®Yes, sir,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®Though I left early. I had an opportunity to join the City Watch, and I took it.¡¯


    Magnus stared, not saying anything.


    ¡®He left the same time I did,¡¯ Navarre said. ¡®Only missed a year or two.¡¯


    Magnus cleared his throat. ¡®Yes, well, despite all that, we need to deal with the situation at hand.¡¯


    ¡®Captain Chavereau told me I was here for public response,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®I intend to speak to the Lieutenant in Dalvany tomorrow.¡¯


    ¡®Not that,¡¯ Magnus said. ¡®We now have a scandal to deal with.¡¯


    ¡®Sir?¡¯ Asher didn¡¯t want to believe he hated nobility. He didn¡¯t see himself a hateful person. Yet, he could never understand the focus they put on relationships and heirs and bloodlines. Just the word on its own, scandal, seemed so tactless and unimportant. Especially in the context of one Lord having an illegitimate child nearly thirty years ago. The King was missing. An entire city had vanished. A new heir was not on top of the priority list.


    ¡®You seem confused.¡¯ Magnus didn¡¯t pose it like a question.


    ¡®I¡¯m only trying to see the full picture,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®My aunt won¡¯t impede in the investigation, I¡¯m sure. She¡¯s just upset.¡¯


    ¡®Yes.¡¯ The word slipped out with a curling disdain. ¡®I have no doubt that the Lady Tremboui will be controlled. Though the ramifications will be damaging. In the event that much of the ruling class has disappeared, Dalvany needs to stand as a pillar of stability. A continuation of the status quo for people to lean on. To discover that Dalvany¡¯s leadership has also been weakened, it will cause a panic. For a stranger to come in now would only make things more messy.¡¯


    The man did have a point, Asher had to admit. ¡®Are you worried that this mystery heir won¡¯t be able to meet the expectation?¡¯


    ¡®I know she won¡¯t,¡¯ Magnus said. ¡®No-one could. The best we can hope for is that it¡¯s contained.¡¯


    ¡®Could make a good cover,¡¯ Navarre said. ¡®Distract people from the doom and gloom. Have them talking about how their leader is a scoundrel.¡¯


    Asher shook his head. ¡®That won¡¯t work. People won¡¯t turn away from this so easily.¡¯


    ¡®He¡¯s right,¡¯ Magnus said. ¡®Any event that would distract from a missing city and a missing king would need to be so big that none of us would have a chance to mend it.¡¯ He tilted his head, studying Asher up and down. ¡®I see the recommendation didn¡¯t come from nothing. You¡¯ve both handled Evelyn well, and you are displaying a surprising intelligence. I suppose I no longer have as many misgivings about bringing you on board.¡¯


    ¡®Thank you, sir.¡¯ Asher hoped it was a compliment. It wouldn¡¯t have surprised him if that was the closest this man ever came to giving one.


    Magnus turned back towards the dining hall, his boots clicking against the tiles. He then stopped. ¡®Did I hear right in your conversation with the madam? You¡¯re a Telkite.¡¯


    Asher flinched. ¡®No, sir. My mother was, but she left when she was young.¡¯


    ¡®I see.¡¯ Magnus stared for a moment longer, then turned and disappeared into the dining hall once more. Asher felt that slimy coat cover him all over. So far it was fine. Everything was fine. He could ignore how his merit was being judged by his lineage, by other people¡¯s success, by everything except his actions. Tomorrow things would fall into place more, and he would actually get to work figuring this out.


    ¡®You can say it,¡¯ Navarre said. ¡®I¡¯m not going to say anything.¡¯


    Asher turned to the man still sprawled across the stairs. ¡®Say what?¡¯


    ¡®What you think of Lord Barque,¡¯ Navarre said. ¡®He¡¯s old fashioned, but he¡¯s harmless, I promise. He doesn¡¯t mean most of the stuff he says.¡¯


    ¡®Oh. Okay.¡¯ Asher wasn¡¯t sure he cared that much. He didn¡¯t expect to be instant friends with a man like Magnus Barque, and the man seemed open to Asher doing his job, which was enough. As long as they didn¡¯t clash in the coming days, Asher saw no problem with the man.

 Chapter 1.4 - Missed Signs

    Navarre sat up then, and patted the seat next to him. When Asher didn¡¯t move, he repeated the motion, this time more exaggerated. Asher sighed and dropped onto the step. Hours of riding in the carriage had made his behind sore, and no amount of shifting could make the seat comfortable. He sat a few steps down from Navarre, and Navarre lowered himself to be even. The stairs were nowhere near wide enough for both of them, and their sides were pressing together, firm and obvious.


    ¡®What¡¯s on your mind?¡¯ he asked. ¡®Evelyn get under your skin that easy?¡¯


    ¡®No,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®I¡¯m just thinking about what happens next.¡¯


    ¡®Like what?¡¯


    ¡®Like meeting up with the Dalvany Lieutenant. There¡¯s only one up here and I need to touch base as soon as possible. I also want to see how much is actually public knowledge, even with this new heir coming in, and --¡¯


    ¡®Hey, relax a bit,¡¯ Navarre said. ¡®One step at a time. No wonder you look like you¡¯re going to explode.¡¯


    ¡®How do you know we¡¯re not against the clock here?¡¯ Asher asked.


    ¡®We don¡¯t,¡¯ Navarre said. ¡®But there¡¯s not much we can do either way.¡¯


    There were plenty of things Asher could be doing, but he was also exhausted. Days on the road had worn down his muscles, and whether he went back up to Valenda tomorrow or into town, there was only more time on the road waiting for him.


    ¡®I didn¡¯t expect you to be so ready to throw yourself at this,¡¯ Navarre said. ¡®I hope you¡¯re not trying to prove anything. I¡¯m in charge of you and I already know you¡¯re up to it.¡¯


    ¡®I just want to do what I came here to do,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®People are missing, and others are going to be scared. I¡¯m not comfortable with just waiting for something bad to happen.¡¯


    ¡®Wow, they really push that ¡°for peace and the kingdom¡± stuff on you city watch boys.¡¯


    ¡®What do they push on you royal guard boys?¡¯


    Navarre chuckled. ¡®Touch¨¦.¡¯


    He leaned over then, and nudged Asher¡¯s shoulder with his own, hard enough to push Asher into the wall. They were both so close. Close enough that Asher could smell the must on his clothes, feel the warmth of his breath. Each sensation made Asher squirm, but it was also a relief to be so close, to be able to take in those marble-like details without feeling as though he was staring.


    ¡®Evelyn does have a point, you know,¡¯ Navarre said. ¡®You could make a good leader. All you¡¯d have to do is say so.¡¯


    ¡®I won¡¯t,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®That¡¯s dishonest.¡¯


    ¡®Did your ma teach you that?¡¯


    ¡®My father actually,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®Both of them were hard workers, but my father had his position because he earned it. He started the same as my mother, the same as I did. I don¡¯t think it¡¯s true to his legacy to just take that for myself. I¡¯d rather do it the same as him.¡¯


    ¡®Make a name for yourself?¡¯


    Asher shrugged. He didn¡¯t think he would go so far to be a Lieutenant, and hadn¡¯t considered going any further. If it came up, maybe he would give it a try, but he was happy where he was, how he was.


    ¡®Would you ever consider coming back to Valenda with me?¡¯ Navarre asked. ¡®Work for the King?¡¯


    ¡®Not really,¡¯ Asher said.


    ¡®I wish you would,¡¯ Navarre said. ¡®I¡¯d get to see more of you.¡¯


    Asher met his gaze. His own reflection flashed through those pale eyes. He looked waxy and pale, his dark curls tussled, his own pale, grey eyes red around the edges. ¡®Do you miss me?¡¯ he asked. ¡®Is that what you mean?¡¯


    ¡®Of course I do,¡¯ Navarre said. ¡®We¡¯re lucky to see each other twice a year.¡¯


    ¡®I won¡¯t come and work for the King,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®But I can make an effort to keep in touch more.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯d appreciate that,¡¯ Navarre said. ¡®But I hope you¡¯ll forgive me for taking your attention for one night.¡¯


    ¡®Do we really have time for something like that?¡¯ Asher asked.


    ¡®Right now?¡¯ A sly grin crossed Navarre¡¯s face. ¡®Sure. We¡¯re waiting for this girl to arrive. I think we could use the distraction.¡¯


    There was something in his expression that Asher hadn¡¯t seen in a long time. Back when they were teenagers, back when he was a shy little dock boy shoved into a big boarding school, and this man was the older boy who had a wing named for his grandfather. Back then Navarre had enjoyed watching him squirm, and sometimes watching him bleed. It took all of Asher¡¯s effort not to squirm now. He struggled to remember the moment Navarre stopped being a bully and started being a friend.


    He was far too close.


    ¡®I suppose I could use a rest,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®It¡¯s been a long journey.¡¯


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    ¡®I could take you up to your quarters, if you like,¡¯ Navarre said. ¡®Do you know which one your trunk got taken to?¡¯


    ¡®You can if you want, but I was just going to ask the maid.¡¯


    ¡®So formal,¡¯ Navarre chided. ¡®Loosen up a bit, Asher. The hard stuff starts tomorrow. Don¡¯t you want one night where you¡¯re not worried about any of this? I want to catch up with my friend. I haven¡¯t seen you in so long.¡¯


    ¡®I think you should have asked me that before I saw the fie--¡¯


    Navarre placed a hand on Asher¡¯s thigh, the touch gentle but enough to send a shock through all of his nerves. His thoughts scattered as he stared down at the hand, at the finely defined lines tracing down from the knuckles, at the deft, practiced fingers pushing into his pants. He turned to ask Navarre what was happening, but as soon as he lifted his head, Navarre¡¯s mouth crashed into his, a wet smack of flesh on flesh.


    Asher jerked to his feet, throwing himself into the wide space of the foyer. The air had grown hot and heavy, his clothes wrapped too tight across his chest. Again, the slimy feeling returned, leaving everything clammy and gross.


    Navarre paled, and held his hands up in surrender. ¡®I¡¯m sorry. That was too far.¡¯


    Asher struggled to pull in breath. He didn¡¯t know why it had suddenly become so hard to pull air in, but even in the wide, empty foyer, everything was still far too close. He could still feel Navarre¡¯s hand on his leg, and something bitter now covered the bottom half of his face.


    Navarre had kissed him. Navarre, beautiful, intimidating, moulded to perfection, had kissed him.


    ¡®Asher, I¡¯m sorry. I thought...¡¯ Navarre slowly lifted to his feet. ¡®Say something, please.¡¯


    ¡®I...¡¯ This was not what he had come here for. This was not in the job description. ¡®This...¡¯ he swallowed. ¡®This isn¡¯t right. You¡¯re my superior. It¡¯s not appropriate.¡¯


    Navarre¡¯s brow creased. ¡®That¡¯s what you¡¯re worried about? We don¡¯t even work in the same line.¡¯


    ¡®No, I...¡¯ Asher forced a deep breath down. Navarre would always be older, would always be the leader more than an equal. He was so strangely perfect, so unreal, like a statue come to life, but now his skin crawled and he could feel something wet and sour covering his entire chin. He shook his head. ¡®No.¡¯


    Navarre¡¯s face fell, showing a pain that made Asher feel three inches tall. Asher knew he needed to say something, apologise maybe, but confusion had wiped any and all thoughts from his mind. Had he ever felt the same about anyone as he had about Navarre? Not really. Sometimes the other watch members talked about it, with one or many people, but they seemed to figure after a while that Asher just wasn¡¯t interested, and they stopped talking to him about it. He had always assumed the same too. Now, he could see what they were saying, but he didn¡¯t want this. He didn¡¯t know what to do with this.


    An entire city had disappeared without a trace. He didn¡¯t need to be worrying about this trivial bullshit right now.


    ¡®Don¡¯t be upset, please,¡¯ Navarre said. ¡®Can we talk about this?¡¯


    Asher shook his head. He didn¡¯t want to talk. He didn¡¯t want to be worrying about this when thousands of people were missing. The room was shrinking by the second, the floor tilting, the walls closing in. He couldn¡¯t breathe.


    ¡®Asher...¡¯


    ¡®I need air.¡¯


    He turned and ran for the door, ignoring Navarre shouting after him.


    Asher crashed into the stone fence enclosing the patio, the frame punching him in the gut hard enough to almost send him onto the ground below. Bile rose in the back of his throat, and he forced it back down. The sun was starting to disappear behind the woods that lined the property, setting the sky and the grass ablaze in a harsh orange light.


    This situation was already such a mess, and he hadn¡¯t even started looking into that fucking Palace yet. He should have known that coming to Dalvany would do this, and these petty social dramas would get in the way. There was something about this place that wanted to get under his skin and crawl around until he snapped.


    He¡¯d have to worry about it later. Hopefully by the time this new heiress came and he started working with the city watch, he¡¯d have enough distance and enough things together to explain how it all worked for him. Hopefully by then, he would know how to explain it.


    Asher pulled in a deep breath. There was a reason he stayed away from drama and socialite circles. At least out here he could separate himself from everything. The night air was already slicing fast and cool through his clothes, and the stones along the grass cast long shadows across the ground. Shadows shifted beyond the treeline, small animals tucking away for the night as nocturnal critters came awake.


    The door opened behind him, and Asher¡¯s mood dropped, but the footsteps that came out onto the patio were quiet and harsh and quick, nowhere near Navarre¡¯s heavier step, nor the click of boots that Evelyn or Magnus wore. He didn¡¯t turn as the newcomer came to a stop next to him, standing straight and tall and staring out at the treeline.


    Something cracked in the shadows, and both of them jumped.


    ¡®Nothing to worry about, I hope,¡¯ the stranger said.


    Asher turned. The woman was unfamiliar, younger than he had expected with how deep her voice was. She held a strange grace he had never seen on another person. Her Euthrian heritage sat clear in her tan-brown skin, her arched eyes, and her thick black hair. She wore a travellers coat; thick navy felt lined with crisp, white fur around the edges, and worn riding boots peered out from underneath.


    ¡®Just wolves,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®They won¡¯t bother us.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯ll take your word for it.¡¯


    ¡®You must be Lord Tremboui¡¯s daughter.¡¯


    The woman turned her attention to him, raising an eyebrow as she glanced him up and down. ¡®If it must be the case. Are you one for introductions?¡¯


    ¡®Yes, ma¡¯am.¡¯ Asher straightened and pressed his fist into his chest. ¡®Lieutenant Asher Wulverman.¡¯


    ¡®Adalynn Norrah. Just Norrah is fine.¡¯ She held out her hand, and Asher shook it. Her grip was firm and steady. ¡®So you¡¯re going to speaking to the public in my behalf in all of this¡­. situation.¡¯


    ¡®It seems to be that way, ma¡¯am,¡¯ he said. ¡®I don¡¯t want to impede on anything you might already have planned though.¡¯


    ¡®You won¡¯t,¡¯ Norrah said. ¡®I will make it clear to you now so I¡¯m not repeating myself tomorrow. I may have always known about my ties to this place, but I had no idea that my lineage would lead to this position. Nevertheless, I plan to take it very seriously, and if I am to be in charge, I will be treated as though I am in charge. I hope that is understood.¡¯


    ¡®No protests from me, ma¡¯am,¡¯ Asher said. He almost asked if she had practiced that in the journey here, but thought better of it. He didn¡¯t blame her if that was the case. Only a few minutes ago, he was offered the alternative of being in her position, and now he was sure it wouldn¡¯t take long to notice an equally negative reaction from her ¨C the nerves, the need to hold control. He didn¡¯t envy her.


    ¡®What¡¯s your position here, Lieutenant?¡¯ Norrah asked.


    ¡®I¡¯m touching base with the Dalvany Captain and his Lieutenant tomorrow. We need a communication with the general public.¡¯


    Norrah¡¯s eye twitched. ¡®I see.¡¯ She turned back towards the forest, as if waiting to spot the wolf. ¡®In that case, it seems I will go back inside. I have more people to shake hands with before I decide what¡¯s going to happen next.¡¯


    Before Asher could reply, Norrah turned and marched back into the house. He turned back to the forest. He had to pull himself together and stay professional for at least one day, because this wasn¡¯t about to get easier. Steeling himself, he turned to move back into the house, feeling the eyes in the woods watching him go.

 Chapter 2.1 - A Feral Town

    Norrah was openly staring at him as they made thier way into Dalvany, and Asher couldn¡¯t tell if she was trying to read him, or waiting for him to do something incredible. The carriage they had been given was bigger than yesterdays, and Norrah was a lot smaller than Navarre, so they at least weren¡¯t crushed together. Though Asher still thought about Navarre. As much as he wanted to ignore what happened, he knew he needed to talk to the man at some point, if only to clear the air.


    When the carriage did come to a stop, Asher managed to pull himself together enough to hold the door for Norrah, who offered a small bow as she stepped out towards the town square. The afternoon sun was cool and barely visible under spotted grey clouds, but still Norrah had her arms bare, wearing only a thin dress of blue satin and silk. She didn¡¯t seem bothered by the cold air, but she also stood out from the dirt stained stone and uneven road. The people milling around them were mostly in modest shirts and skirts with aprons, many of them farmers or outdoor workers, shabby and dirty and beat down by a hard day¡¯s work. Norrah stood out more than a diamond amongst clay. With his uniform and the ceremonial rapier hooked under his cloak, they both did.


    The market in the town plaza was bustling despite the grey chill. Flowers bloomed around the edges of the footpath, and the wooden stalls collected in the centre of the plaza. More of them lined the closed off buildings around the square, filling the space with a white noise of conversation. The narrow path left around each stall little space, people milling through as they chatted to the vendors and scolded children running through legs. Somewhere on the other side of the market, a dog was barking incessantly.


    Asher spotted Clyde next to the Town Hall, strapping down his little crooked cart with aged, frayed rope, while a handful of sullen-faced men around him readied rifles. The old farmer glanced up as Asher approached, and offered a firm handshake.


    ¡®Glad to see your keeping your word, Lieutenant,¡¯ he said. ¡®Been a lot of empty words thrown around lately.¡¯


    ¡®I can¡¯t make any promises yet,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®I¡¯m just trying to get a picture of what¡¯s going on.¡¯


    Clyde grunted in response.


    ¡®I present too, the Lady Adalynn Norrah,¡¯ Asher added quickly. Norrah dipped her knee in greeting.


    Clyde bowed deep in response. ¡®You must be old Henri¡¯s estranged.¡¯


    ¡®Word travels fast,¡¯ Norrah commented.


    ¡®It will in any community,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®People know when something¡¯s up.¡¯


    Norrah nodded in agreement.


    ¡®If you¡¯re trying to suck up to any of us it won¡¯t work until you got something to show for it,¡¯ Clyde said.


    ¡®Maybe we can start with why there are so many guns,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®They¡¯re not for the people I hope.¡¯


    Clyde¡¯s face fell then, his mouth disappearing completely beneath his beard. He glanced back at the others by the cart, then jerked his head to the side. ¡®There¡¯s a story there. If you wanna know the full story, you should come with me real quick.¡¯


    Asher exchanged a glance with Norrah, then fell into step behind the older man. People turned to glance their way as they passed, moreso towards Norrah than him, though he did wonder if people had any idea who he was as well. Perhaps they saw two strangers, finely dressed and proper, coming down to bring news of the apocalypse, or to stop it. Either way, Asher could feel the tension pulling the air down. The nervous energy crackled like a sky before a thunderstorm.


    Dalvany did have a picture-book quality to how the sun caught the hills ablaze in orange glare. The town itself sat along the rise of the hills, spread amongst rocky crevices and curving over rounded peaks. From his place along the road, he could just make out the red tiled roofs and white brick of each building. Everything about it was far too narrow to hold so many people constantly.


    Clyde led them along the edge of the market, and Asher noted that the plaza was far more crowded than he first noticed. Dalvany was no where as big as Ralkauda, or Valenda before it vanished, but he hadn¡¯t expected the streets to be as packed as they were, as pressed in around the buildings.


    ¡®How many of these people are refugees?¡¯ he asked Clyde.


    ¡®You¡¯ll have to check with the watch for any numbers on that one,¡¯ Clyde said. ¡®But we¡¯ve had a few. Me and my boys aren¡¯t the only ones who¡¯ve been on the road. The road¡¯s been closed off for over a week, so a lot of people have been stopping here and just... waiting.¡¯


    Asher glanced around, feeling a shiver run down his spine. He glanced at Norrah, who was biting her lip, deep in thought.


    They reached what looked like an inn of some kind, a tavern with a bridge sitting over it to connect it to the neighbouring buildings. A medical sign sat inside the frosted windows, next to a crudely hand-painted sign that read ¡°No Vacancy.¡± Clyde held the door open for them both, and Asher pulled in a deep breath.


    The inside was as crowded as the market, with groups of people shoved into each other around tables, with a frazzled bartender in the corner responding to a dozen questions at once. The candles in the chandelier on the roof had long died, and the light coming through the window shone over floating specks. No-one seemed to notice - or move - as Asher pushed towards the bar, with Norrah close on his heels. They reached the long wooden bench, and the bartender huffed, blowing dark strands of hair from her face.


    ¡®If you want a drink, we¡¯re out,¡¯ she spat the words at him. ¡®And unless you need stitches, I¡¯m not letting you upstairs ei--¡¯ She stopped when she saw Norrah, and the colour drained from her face. ¡®Ma¡¯am, I¡¯m so sorry, I--¡¯


    ¡®It¡¯s quite alright,¡¯ Norrah said. ¡®We¡¯re not here to bother you.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯m taking them upstairs, Tippy,¡¯ Clyde said. ¡®Go back to stressing.¡¯


    The bartender nodded, and Clyde gestured towards a staircase next to the bar. More than half of the people around them had fallen into a hushed whisper, openly staring. Asher felt the colour rise in his face. People looking was something he needed to get used to.


    ¡®Brace yourself,¡¯ Clyde said. ¡®This ain¡¯t pretty.¡¯


    Asher stepped up the stairs and gagged as the sharp sting of blood hit his nose. The space had been repurposed into a medical centre of some kind, with cots lining the far wall, each joined with a table and tray of instruments, stained bandages, and buckets of brown water. Only a small handful of the beds were untouched. The others had a range of people in various states of pain and drugged daze. The closest was a young girl who couldn¡¯t have been older than fifteen or sixteen, with a shock of red hair matted with blood. A long, thin slash ran down the side of her face, sealing one of her eyes shut. Next to her, an older gentleman had a bloodied stub where his hand used to be.


    Clyde approached one of the beds, where another muscular older man was sitting on the end, nursing an arm that had three jagged, deep gashes running along the skin. The sight of it came with another harsh smell of blood, and a bile taste hit the back of Asher¡¯s throat.


    ¡®What did this?¡¯ Norrah asked.


    ¡®This one was a wolf,¡¯ Clyde said. ¡®Big bloody bastard. A lot of these are wolves, though we¡¯ve had some other animals too.¡¯


    ¡®So much for them being harmless,¡¯ Norrah mumbled. Asher felt the words cut into the back of his head.


    ¡®They usually are,¡¯ Clyde said. ¡®The farmers have trouble with the foxes going after the chickens, but never nothing like this. Young sweetheart over here,¡¯ he gestured to the red haired girl, ¡®got that lovely new look from a hawk. You know those little birds? The ones that don¡¯t do much to humans normally? The thing swooped down out of nowhere.¡¯


    ¡®I thought it was going after my dog,¡¯ the girl said. She turned her head, and Asher flinched when he noticed how swollen the side of her face was. ¡®I told my sister to go and take him home, but then it came down and swiped me.¡¯


    ¡®Is this what the rifles are for?¡¯ Asher asked Clyde. ¡®The animals?¡¯


    Clyde nodded. ¡®I don¡¯t know what¡¯s gotten into any of them, but even the little cute herbivores are biting and scratching. The whole bloody kingdom has gone feral, and no-one can figure out why.¡¯


    This was not how gathering further information was supposed to go. Asher considered the miserable group of people around him, the tired doctor shuffling around. One bed had a small boy with his foot wrapped in a bloody bandage. The seat next to it had a pale faced woman hunched over, her head hung low as if in prayer.


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    ¡®Any scholars who can help us out?¡¯ Asher asked.


    ¡®I¡¯ve got a few coming in,¡¯ the doctor spoke up. He hadn¡¯t shaved and his grey hair was wild, his clothes unkempt. ¡®The Fauna Conservation and Research Society was in Valenda. It¡¯s gone with the rest of it. Got a couple coming up from Fanmaryh, but it¡¯ll be a few days yet.¡¯


    Asher nodded. ¡®If there¡¯s anything I can do...¡¯


    ¡®Figure out what¡¯s going on, so people stop getting hurt.¡¯


    ¡®Have we lost anyone yet?¡¯ Norrah asked.


    Asher¡¯s stomach churned as the doctor nodded. ¡®Six so far. I can¡¯t see everyone though. I¡¯m one person. If they¡¯re not immediately dying I send them away, so if anything creeps up or turns out venomous...¡¯ he sighed. ¡®I¡¯m doing what I can.¡¯


    ¡®Are you alone here?¡¯ Asher asked. If he was, he would need to send word down to Ralkauda immediately, and get more than his unqualified ass up here to help.


    ¡®My other one is asleep in the back,¡¯ the doctor said. ¡®Twenty-two hours on her feet, she needs it. Got two more coming tomorrow, though I appreciate asking.¡¯


    ¡®There¡¯s one more thing,¡¯ Clyde said. He stepped around the doctor - giving the man a pat on the shoulder as he did - and approached a bed in the far corner. Norrah eased to the side, falling into a hushed conversation with the doctor, leaving Asher to follow alone.


    The man in the bed didn¡¯t look much older than Asher, and didn¡¯t look injured either. His face was gaunt, his eyes staring up at the roof, empty and vacant. Streaks of white broke out along his forehead and temple. He didn¡¯t move when Asher approached. He didn¡¯t even seem to notice anyone was there.


    ¡®I told you the ground was unstable out there,¡¯ Clyde said. His voice was low, his face grim. ¡®He fell straight through, day one. We were lucky to pull him out of that big hole, but he came out like this. Won¡¯t talk, won¡¯t move, won¡¯t even look at us. The white hair¡¯s new.¡¯


    Asher frowned. He¡¯d heard of ¡°snow syndrome¡± where hair turned white prematurely, but the process was caused by years of stress and fear, and a multitude of other factors. There was nothing else about the man¡¯s features that suggested age; no lines or wrinkles or spots. He reached down and took the man¡¯s hand, noting how big the palms were compared to the wrists. He wasn¡¯t just gaunt, he was malnourished.


    ¡®Is he eating?¡¯ he asked Clyde.


    Clyde shook his head. ¡®Sometimes I come around and help shove a tube in his mouth so he can get water, but now it¡¯s just a matter of time.¡¯


    Because he fell through the ground, at a spot where an entire city had vanished without a trace. None of this was normal, and it was only getting more and more insane. ¡®Has anyone else fallen in?¡¯


    Clyde shook his head. ¡®I¡¯m not risking anyone else to test if it¡¯s isolated or not.¡¯


    Asher nodded. He wasn¡¯t about to ask the man to do that for him or for anyone. Still holding the man¡¯s hand, he pinched either side of his wrist. The man¡¯s pulse was weak. Next to the pained moans of the people around him, next to the overpowering smell of blood and the general heaviness to the air, he didn¡¯t see this getting any better.


    ¡®Do you know where I can meet the Lieutenant or Captain of this Province?¡¯ Asher asked. ¡®I think I need to touch base and start working on this.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯d appreciate that,¡¯ Clyde said. ¡®They¡¯ve set up at the town hall. It¡¯s the only place they¡¯re out of the way. If it¡¯s all the same, I¡¯m gonna stay here with him for a moment.¡¯


    He dropped into a seat next to the bed, lowering his head in a similar pose to the mother across the room. Asher stared down at the man in the bed. He wondered if the Sleepless Three could hear any prayers, if they were waking up to end what they created, like in those old stories.


    If that was true, then there was no reason for him to be here. There was nothing he could do, and Asher refused to believe that. The gods would stay sleeping, and until then, this was something he could fix. It had to be.


    Asher thought about saying something, but there was nothing to say to either Clyde or to the vacant shell of a man in the bed. It would only seem empty and insincere. Instead, he gave a nod of the head and eased back around the injured people, back down the stairs and out onto the street.


    People were staring more openly now, looking at him with a mix of curiosity and weariness. Asher had always found children were more open about their curiosity, and now he saw a couple of them point and ask at the adult with them only to be pulled away. One small boy approached Asher with large eyes, only to be picked up and carried off by a scolding woman. The tension in the air felt like a whip that hadn¡¯t come down yet, one that was frozen in mid-air and waiting for time to start up to deliver the final crack.


    Norrah stepped out as the crowd began to lose interest, but she still lifted her chin at a nearby couple as they stared at her. Asher wondered if she was bothered by the sudden attention, whether it was expected despite the circumstances or not, or if she knew that their fear wasn¡¯t personal.


    ¡®I hope I¡¯m not keeping you from anything,¡¯ Norrah said. ¡®Though I will point out that there¡¯s no need to wait for me.¡¯


    Asher shrugged. ¡®We came together, we might as well stay together.¡¯


    Norrah tilted her head. ¡®You¡¯re not assigned to watch over me, are you?¡¯


    ¡®Nothing like that,¡¯ Asher said. Though he wouldn¡¯t be surprised if the order was passed to someone in the near future.


    ¡®Good.¡¯ Norrah pushed into the market, stepping fast and sure. Asher rushed to keep up, ducking as she twirled her umbrella. ¡®I¡¯ve only come down here to get a sense of the situation properly. In my home kingdom, it is improper for a leader to stay separate from the people, and where better to see what is going on?¡¯


    ¡®That would be my goal too,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®My next stop is the Watch, if that¡¯s also your goal.¡¯


    ¡®In that case, I prefer you didn¡¯t walk behind me,¡¯ Norrah said. ¡®I feel as though I have an escort.¡¯


    ¡®Oh. Sorry.¡¯ Asher ducked forward to step in next to her, and almost crashed into a small group of elderly women coming the other way. They muttered at each other as Asher bowed in apology. The makeshift streets between the market stalls were technically big enough for more than two people to fit side by side, but with everyone trying to walk together, it became a battle to keep pace with Norrah while people wove around him, forcing him to step around and duck past, all while none made the move to do the same for him. Strangely, it was exactly how it felt working the main square in Ralkauda. At least some things never changed.


    ¡®From what I heard last night, it seems you and I are related,¡¯ Norrah said. She wasn¡¯t having any trouble with the crowd, slicing through it like a blade through paper.


    ¡®Are we?¡¯ Asher asked. In some sense they might have been, but it was a very thin line. ¡®I¡¯m not related by blood to Henri Trembiou.¡¯


    ¡®Well, no, but he is married to your aunt, isn¡¯t he?¡¯


    ¡®I think after last night that is debatable.¡¯


    Norrah chuckled at that. She had a surprisingly throaty laugh. ¡®Your Uncle Henri. Tell me about him.¡¯


    ¡®There¡¯s nothing to tell,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®He¡¯s technically my guardian, but I only met him once as a boy.¡¯


    Norrah raised an eyebrow. ¡®So he is in the habit of abandoning children then.¡¯


    ¡®I wouldn¡¯t say that,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®I¡¯d already been at Beau Jordeaux -- it¡¯s a boarding school near Valenda -- for about three years when my mother died. He and my Aunt Evelyn were next of kin, but I only left that school to move to Ralkauda. We haven¡¯t seen much of each other outside of the occasional letter.¡¯


    ¡®I see.¡¯ Norrah continued forward, leaving Asher to stumble behind. ¡®I only met him once also. I was born here in Tarinye, but he sent my mother and me away to cover up my existence. He appeared only once when I was young, to ask why we were not taking his money.¡¯


    ¡®Didn¡¯t need it?¡¯ Asher asked.


    ¡®No,¡¯ Norrah said. ¡®My mother was powerful in her own right. If he wanted to pretend we didn¡¯t exist, then we were happy to do the same to him.¡¯


    ¡®It must be a shock then, to be brought up here to deal with all this.¡¯


    Norrah chewed on her lip for a moment, mulling the words over. ¡®I suppose I always knew it was a possibility. I do not like the idea of being connected solely to a man who could not find use for me, nor do I enjoy being referred to as his child when he did everything to disown me until now.¡¯


    ¡®So why come at all?¡¯ Asher asked, then flinched. The words were a lot harsher than he intended.


    A wry smile crossed Norrah¡¯s face. It pinched at her cheeks, a sign that she didn¡¯t usually make the expression. ¡®I do not have any qualms against the people in general. Besides, you must have been desperate to send for an Euthrian of all people.¡¯


    ¡®It¡¯s not like we¡¯re still at war,¡¯ Asher mumbled. Though he knew it was a weak excuse. If people wanted a reason to hate this woman, they would have an easy target for their anger. The Battle for Telkesi Gap was still raw in a lot of minds, and Asher wasn¡¯t an outlier in that regard. His father had fought, met his mother, had Asher, and died in that war. So did a lot of mothers and fathers, brothers and uncles. All to claim a pile of inhospitable rocks because the mass refugees didn¡¯t want to see their home taken by the neighbouring country. It didn¡¯t matter if there was nothing left of it.


    ¡®I suppose if people want something to gossip about, I won¡¯t hate them for it,¡¯ Norrah said. ¡®If it distracts them from their anxieties.¡¯


    ¡®Wait till they see we¡¯re working together,¡¯ Asher said. When Norrah raised an eyebrow in question, he added, ¡®My mother was a Telkite.¡¯


    A sharp giggle escaped Norrah then, which she quickly smothered with a gloved hand. Asher grinned, taking a moment to revel in the absurdity of the situation. Norrah didn¡¯t seem like a bad person, but there were some that would rather see them as enemies because of something as dumb as lineage.


    ¡®In that case, we should continue working together just to mess with them,¡¯ Norrah said. She stopped walking, taking in a nearby stall that was showing an arrangement of hats and scarves. ¡®I didn¡¯t know you could smile, Lieutenant.¡¯


    ¡®I could say the same about you,¡¯ Asher returned. ¡®Though it¡¯s hardly the circumstances.¡¯


    ¡®I suppose you¡¯re right. Though I want to take a moment to tell you I appreciate this.¡¯ Norrah met his gaze. ¡®My welcome so far has been quite mixed, and I¡¯m glad to have a normal conversation with someone.¡¯


    ¡®Oh.¡¯ Asher¡¯s mind went blank. ¡®I... If you mean Evelyn, don¡¯t worry about her too much.¡¯


    ¡®Oh, I expected an icy welcome from my father¡¯s wife, considering... well, everything. Yet, it seems that the other lords are less than enthusiastic about me showing up.¡¯


    ¡®Like Lord Barque?¡¯ Asher asked. ¡®I think he¡¯s like that with everyone.¡¯


    ¡®Noted,¡¯ Norrah said. ¡®And Captain Chauvereu? What¡¯s his story?¡¯


    Asher flinched. He hadn¡¯t seen Navarre since last night, and all at once the memory crashed to the forefront of his mind. They would need to talk about what happened, but he hated that it had to happen on top of everything else. He hadn¡¯t reacted the way a professional should, and not as a friend should either.


    Norrah was still watching him, waiting for a response.


    ¡®He¡¯s harmless,¡¯ Asher said quickly. ¡®He can come off a little strong, but he doesn¡¯t mean anything by it.¡¯ The words tasted bad even after he said them. They felt like a lie. Though they weren¡¯t. Navarre had said he went too far. They just needed to talk, and Asher had no idea how to tell the man that he didn¡¯t do things like that.


    ¡®You two are quite close then?¡¯ Norrah asked.


    ¡®We¡¯ve known each other a long time,¡¯ Asher said.


    ¡®Have I struck a nerve?¡¯


    ¡®Oh, no,¡¯ Asher shook his head frantically. Any attempt to tame his mess of curls fell apart as they bounced across his face. ¡®Sorry. I was just lost in thought.¡¯


    ¡®You are a hard man to read, Lieutenant.¡¯


    Asher blinked. ¡®Really?¡¯


    ¡®I won¡¯t intrude any further,¡¯ Norrah said. ¡®But perhaps we should keep going.¡¯


    She turned on her heel and marched towards the town hall. Asher watched her part the crowd like a rock in river rapids, then realised he should be following and rushed to catch up. He needed to pull himself together. If the mere mention of Navarre was enough to pull him out of focus, then he wasn¡¯t in any state to do his job. He needed to do his job right now.

 Chapter 2.2 - The Wrong Time

    Asher reached the steps of the Town Hall when one of the people in the crowd knocked into his shoulder, hard enough to make him stumble. A weight dropped from his side, and Asher grabbed for his sword, only for his hand to paw at empty air. His ceremonial rapier and scabbard were gone.


    In the crowd, a lone figure shifted through the mass, a ratty, dark cloak pulled over their head. Sticking out over their shoulder, was the familiar hilt.


    ¡®Hey!¡¯ Asher¡¯s bark parted the crowd with shouts of surprise, and Asher charged after the culprit, who broke into a sprint towards the edge of the market. The hooded figure took turns at random, ducking around people and shoving them out of the way, which only cleared the path more for Asher to follow. Both of them leapt over crates and baskets sitting on the corner, their feet pounding. Blood roared through Asher¡¯s ears as his legs and arms worked to catch up. Each time he thought he was gaining, the stranger would throw a sharp turn and gain again.


    When a turn pulled the hooded figure into a narrow alleyway, Asher pushed forward even harder, giving a single burst of speed to his legs. He caught up to the stranger easily, then wrapped his arms around the stranger¡¯s middle and threw both of them to the ground. The cobblestone tore at his arms and face, harsh pain blinding him for a second as the stranger cried out in alarm. In a blink the thief had rolled out of his grip and ripped the scabbard from the sword, kneeling at a distance to thrust the thing. Asher lunged forward and caught the blade in his fist, then yanked it hard towards him, throwing the stranger forward so he could lock his hand around their wrist.


    Asher froze. The face under the hood was familiar, though he couldn¡¯t figure out how. The man was dirty and unkempt, his feet bare and his clothes unwashed. The hood and long black hair spilling over his shoulders left dark shadows across a narrow face, and his mouth was twisted into a snarl.


    His eyes were on fire.


    Asher had never seen colour that bright on any human before. In the shadow of his hood, they glowed orange, like coals in a dying fire. Up close, Asher swore he could see embers dancing across the iris. The whites stood out against his browned skin, which only pulled attention further in, as though Asher was a moth pulled forward into a dying fire.


    Valenda. This man had been at the field yesterday.


    The stranger squirmed, twisting his arm around to pull away from Asher¡¯s grip, and Asher dug his fingers in tighter. His other hand still gripped the blade of the sword, locking it in place as the man tried to pull it free.


    ¡®Yeah, it¡¯s not a real sword,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®What are you doing?¡¯


    The man growled. His voice was unnaturally gravelly, and he sounded more like a wolf or a bear than a man. The noise sent a shiver down Asher¡¯s spine.


    ¡®You can cut that right out,¡¯ he snapped. ¡®What are you doing? Why did you try and take my sword?¡¯


    The man spoke in a strange language Asher couldn¡¯t place, his words fast and sharp, the ends curling like mist before spitting at him with a harshness of a bite. There was anger there, fear, but there wasn¡¯t a hint of Tarneyan.


    ¡®I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re saying,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®Look, you¡¯re not in trouble, just tell me what you¡¯re doing.¡¯


    The stranger glared.


    ¡®Let¡¯s start with your name then.¡¯ Asher tried to keep his voice even, as though they were in conversation and not grappling one another. ¡®What¡¯s your name?¡¯


    ¡®Penn.¡¯


    So he did speak Tarneyan. ¡®What are you doing, Penn?¡¯


    ¡®Everyone here is going to die.¡¯


    The words sent a deep chill down the length of Asher¡¯s spine. ¡®What?¡¯


    ¡®Get a real sword.¡¯ The stranger¡¯s voice caught on the words, a thick, silvery accent struggling to form them. ¡®Prepare. Everyone here will die.¡¯


    ¡®What are you talking about?¡¯ Asher demanded. When Penn tried to twist out of his grip again, Asher squeezed harder. He felt bones shift in his hand, and the stranger hissed at him, flashing his canines like a feral cat. The fiery glow in his eyes sizzled, and Asher wondered if a simple look could make him combust.


    ¡®If you won¡¯t fight, run,¡¯ Penn hissed. ¡®Everyone must run.¡¯


    Pain burst across Asher¡¯s palm as a sharp shock of hot air seared his skin. Asher recoiled with a shout, and the stranger pulled himself free. Pulling his hood further down to cover his eyes, he regarded the sword he still held, then tossed it onto the ground in front of Asher and rushed down the alley. By the time Asher pulled himself to his feet, the strange man was gone.


    ¡®Is everything alright?¡¯ Norrah stepped into the alley behind him, her brows knotted in confusion.


    Asher scooped up the sword and its scabbard, taking the moment to fix it back on his belt. His hands were shaking.


    ¡®I can send for someone to chase down the--¡¯


    ¡®No, it¡¯s fine,¡¯ Asher said. Everyone here is going to die. It was a single man, in a fit of panic, who probably didn¡¯t speak Tarneyan as a first language, and yet his hands were shaking. People more dishevelled and more off their rock said worse in the alleyways of Ralkauda every other day, and yet these words echoed in his head over and over. It was the eyes. Those weren¡¯t normal eyes. This wasn¡¯t a normal situation.


    ¡®What did he say to you?¡¯ Norrah asked.


    Asher turned to meet her gaze. To quote the stranger word for word would sound like an invitation to cause panic. It also just wasn¡¯t anything to go off. Everyone will die. How? When? ¡®He said something bad was about to happen,¡¯ Asher said.


    ¡®Was it believable?¡¯


    The question made Asher pause, though the answer formed on his tongue straight away. Those eyes still burned into his head. His hand tingled, as though static had charged through it. A quick glance didn¡¯t show any marks. ¡®It was,¡¯ he admitted. ¡®I... I don¡¯t know, I just have a really bad feeling all of a sudden.¡¯


    Norrah only stared.


    Asher shook himself. Reactionary decisions did not make good decisions. How he was so scrambled today, he had no idea. Be professional. This is literally your job.


    ¡®I think we should meet up with the Watch,¡¯ he said. ¡®The sooner we can start working on all of this, the better.¡¯


    Norrah nodded, then tilted her head. ¡®Are you sure you¡¯re alright?¡¯


    Asher nodded, but it felt dishonest. He couldn¡¯t tell why, there was nothing wrong from what he could tell. Adrenaline was still buzzing under his skin from the chase, and there was a weight against his chest for the same reason, but nothing was wrong to the point where it was noticeable. It didn¡¯t feel exactly right either. When he stepped back into the market, Norrah followed, still watching him.


    The Town Hall sat at the head of the market, separated by a steep set of stairs. The great pillars that sat either side of the large mahogany door were guarded by statues of the royal symbol. A stone lion raised it¡¯s front legs high, a roar permanently etched into it¡¯s stone face as an impossibly large dragonfly balanced on its nose. Two territories joining into one Kingdom. Two Crowns become Tarinye. The plaque beneath the statues told that same little limerick, dating it back over three hundred years. It also read that the Dalvany Town Hall was the oldest building in Tarinye. Asher doubted that last part, but he didn¡¯t know his general history well enough to confirm it.


    Two watchmen stood by one of the pillars, deep in casual conversation while stealing occasional glances towards the crowd. Each of them wore the same uniform Asher had worn until recently, their black coats pressed and fitted against their bodies. The single star on each side of their breast told him they were simple patrolmen. When they noticed him, both snapped to attention with a fist to the chest. Asher returned the gesture, which signalled for them to drop their salute.


    ¡®You must be Lieutenant Wulverman.¡¯ The first was a man with mousy hair and a thick moustache covering his thin lips. When Asher nodded, the second stepped forward; a woman with dark hair pulled back far enough that it pulled at the skin of her face.


    ¡®Sir, we recieved word that you were coming.¡¯


    ¡®That¡¯s good,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®I present the new Duchess with me, Lady Adalynn Norrah.¡¯


    Norrah offered a small curtsey, and both guards paled.


    ¡®Ma¡¯am, I¡¯m sorry, we didn¡¯t know--¡¯


    ¡®It¡¯s alright,¡¯ Norrah said. ¡®I came to speak to your Captain, or one of your Lieutenants, if that¡¯s possible.¡¯


    The female guard swallowed. ¡®Only one Lieutenant here, ma¡¯am. She¡¯s indisposed. There was an issue with the wild animals out in the farms. She only left about an hour ago so she¡¯ll be gone for a while.¡¯


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    The animals again. Though Asher felt a small wave of relief that the Lieutenant was going out to handle things directly. It was an early sign that they had a similar style of work. Though, it also meant that for now, Dalvany¡¯s Watch had no chain of command.


    ¡®I need you guys to do something for me, just until she gets back,¡¯ Asher said. Both guards snapped to attention. ¡®Can you just do a couple of circles around the market? Nothing too obvious, I just... would feel better.¡¯


    ¡®He has a bad feeling,¡¯ Norrah said.


    ¡®Sure thing, sir,¡¯ the male guard said. ¡®A lot of bad feelings going around lately. We looking for anything in particular?¡¯


    ¡®Just anything too out of the ordinary,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®I don¡¯t think there¡¯s going to be trouble, so it¡¯s probably nothing.¡¯


    Both guards saluted again, then bounced down the stairs, continuing their conversation. Asher blew out a breath. One man did not mean a sign of panic. Yet, something was wrong.


    Norrah stepped around the statue, taking in the pillars and the stone animals, and Asher dropped onto the step where he stood. He hung his head between his knees, and sucked in a deep breath. Pull yourself together, he chided himself. Nothing has happened and you¡¯re already fraying at the seams.


    He didn¡¯t even know why. All he knew was that if this kept up, he wouldn¡¯t be able to do what he needed to, and if people were getting hurt by all this, it would soon be on his shoulders.


    Footsteps clacking against the stairs were his only warning that someone was approaching, and he glanced up expecting Norrah, but instead his stomach twisted as Navarre approached, then dropped down onto the seat next to him.


    ¡®You seem upset,¡¯ he said.


    Asher sighed. ¡®I didn¡¯t think you were coming down with us.¡¯


    Hurt crossed the other man¡¯s features, and disappeared just as quickly. He leaned over and nudged Asher with his shoulder. ¡®That eager to get away from me?¡¯


    Asher didn¡¯t say anything. He was not in the right state of mind to have this conversation now. It wasn¡¯t the right time to be worrying about his personal drama. Though, there was an argument to be made that he could clear this up and forget it happened.


    ¡®Asher, say something,¡¯ Navarre said. ¡®I feel like you¡¯re mad at me.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯m not mad,¡¯ Asher mumbled.


    ¡®Are you telling me, or yourself?¡¯


    Asher met Navarre¡¯s gaze. His face was so familiar, so haunting in its beauty. Yet, now it carried the memory of a hand on his leg, of that bitter taste of mouth hitting mouth. He shivered. ¡®We need to talk about this,¡¯ he said. ¡®Properly, sitting down, and now is not the right time, that¡¯s all.¡¯


    ¡®What¡¯s not right time about it?¡¯ Navarre asked. ¡®We¡¯re sitting. You¡¯re waiting for the Lieutenant to come back. I have an afternoon of paperwork to sort out.¡¯ He frowned. ¡®Don¡¯t lock me out, Asher, you can talk to me. If you want to tell me no, you can just say no.¡¯


    ¡®It¡¯s a no,¡¯ Asher said. He flinched as pain crossed Navarre¡¯s features. It¡¯s really not the time for this. ¡®But it¡¯s more complicated than that.¡¯


    ¡®You¡¯re not into guys.¡¯


    ¡®No, I mean... maybe? I don¡¯t really do any of this stuff.¡¯


    ¡®Any of what?¡¯ Navarre asked. ¡®Have you...¡¯ A sly grin crossed his face. ¡®Have you never been with anyone before?¡¯


    ¡®I haven¡¯t,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®And I don¡¯t want to.¡¯


    ¡®Is that really what you¡¯re worried about?¡¯ Navarre asked. ¡®Asher, that¡¯s okay.¡¯ He chuckled nervously. ¡®It¡¯s okay if you¡¯re not ready. If you need time or--¡¯


    ¡®No, that¡¯s the thing,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®I don¡¯t need time, I just know. I don¡¯t do this kind of stuff. I don¡¯t want to do this kind of stuff. With anyone.¡¯


    ¡®I hear you,¡¯ Navarre said. ¡®And I can wait. I¡¯m happy to wait. I won¡¯t force you into anything.¡¯


    ¡®You¡¯ll be waiting forever,¡¯ Asher pressed. ¡®I don¡¯t. Not with anyone. Not ever.¡¯


    Navarre recoiled like he had been stung. ¡®Ever?¡¯


    ¡®Never.¡¯


    ¡®But...¡¯ Navarre shifted, his hands wringing together. Asher could see wheels turning in his head, trying to process a conversation that needed more than this impromptu chat, that needed more delicacy and a gentle touch. This was not the right way to bring this up, to admit it so openly.


    There were too many other pressing concerns.


    ¡®I don¡¯t understand,¡¯ Navarre said.


    The two patrolmen returned, completing their circle and coming to a stop at the bottom of the stairs. They gave a single nod each then disappeared back into the crowd. Asher took the excuse to get to his feet, though he resisted the urge to pace. ¡®We need to talk about this later,¡¯ he said. ¡®Properly. I...¡¯ The Lieutenant wouldn¡¯t be back for a while. He was caught in a stasis until then. Any action he took would overstep the Lieutenant¡¯s authority, and he wasn¡¯t in the right state of mind.


    Everything was happening all at once. None of it would settle in his brain and let him process. He pulled at the collar of his uniform, though it didn¡¯t stop pressing against his neck. He turned back to Navarre, and instead saw Norrah, still standing by the statues, watching him. She was close enough to have heard everything.


    This was a mess.


    Everyone here is going to die.


    If he were to take the warning seriously, he needed to start focusing on that. The market was far too crowded to pull everyone in a single direction; it would only lead to people getting trampled. If there was a way to do it without causing panic, then he needed to find it. Though, any idea he had scattered before he could grab it.


    His hand twinged where it had been burned. Asher glanced down and prodded at the part of his palm that stung. A small red mark had begun to form near his thumb. A smear of dirt had also stained his skin. He rubbed it off on his half-cape.


    Think, idiot. If this was a regular threat, then there was a way to handle it. The first step was to identify the problem, and if that wasn¡¯t possible, then a place that was as safe as was possible. Here, on the steps of the Town Hall. The Town Hall itself. It was away from the crowd, and the building was big enough to hold everyone. It would only be temporary too.


    If there was a threat, where would it come from?


    The guards came around again, and Asher waved them down and beckoned them over. The female guard broke away from her companion, making her way up the stairs as the male guard continued the loop around. Her brow knotted as she approached. ¡®Is something wrong, sir?¡¯


    ¡®No, I just want to get a clear picture of a few things,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®What¡¯s the story with the market?¡¯


    ¡®We have it every second week, sir. The farmers host it.¡¯


    ¡®Is it always this crowded?¡¯


    The guard frowned. ¡®No, but we have refugees and travellers stuck here. People are looking for a distraction. Is something wrong?¡¯


    ¡®Nothing wrong.¡¯ Navarre stepped in next to Asher, clapping him hard on the shoulder. ¡®That will be all, thank you.¡¯


    The guard saluted and bounced back down the stairs, and a flare of anger burned to life in Asher¡¯s chest. Navarre¡¯s hand was still on his shoulder, and he wriggled free. Another hurt look flashed across the man¡¯s features.


    ¡®Don¡¯t do that,¡¯ Asher growled.


    ¡®Do what?¡¯ Navarre asked. ¡®What are you doing?¡¯


    ¡®You dismissed the conversation over me,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®How am I supposed to respond to the public if people are just waiting for everything else to contradict me.¡¯


    ¡®Woah, that is not what that was,¡¯ Navarre said. ¡®It really looks like you¡¯re trying to find something to do to avoid this conversation.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯m trying to do my job,¡¯ Asher said.


    ¡®How? What is your plan here? Is something actually wrong or are you just trying to get away?¡¯


    Both. Asher glanced over at where Norrah was still watching the both of them, arms crossed in front of her chest. Below them, the market continued to bustle, the crowd seemingly growing thicker by the second. If something were to happen to the people, the middle of a large crowd was the perfect place to do it.


    Everyone is going to die.


    ¡®The Captain may have a point.¡¯ Norrah stepped down next to him. ¡®We don¡¯t have any other sign that something is wrong.¡¯


    ¡®I know,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®But I¡¯m not waiting for chaos to break out before I do something.¡¯


    ¡®Other sign?¡¯ Navarre turned to Norrah. ¡®What are you talking about?¡¯


    ¡®A homeless man attacked him before,¡¯ Norrah said. ¡®He... I don¡¯t actually know what he said.¡¯


    ¡®One homeless man came at you, and you¡¯re this bent out of shape?¡¯ Navarre asked. ¡®I knew it, you¡¯re not okay.¡¯


    Asher bristled. He could feel his skin growing hot under the still stiff uniform. ¡®I¡¯m trying to be prepared,¡¯ he said. ¡®An entire city vanished. We don¡¯t know how or why. People are nervous. They¡¯re scared and they¡¯re injured. Even if nothing big is about to happen, that¡¯s the perfect scenario for something to snap.¡¯


    Navarre sighed. He opened his mouth to say something, then snapped it shut again.


    ¡®I think the guards would know that too, wouldn¡¯t they?¡¯ Norrah asked. ¡®I understand where your coming from, but acting out on your impatience is not going to help the situation.¡¯


    Asher glared at her.


    ¡°What did that man say to you?¡¯ she asked. ¡®Aside from something bad will happen.¡¯


    Asher glanced back and forth between the both of them. There weren¡¯t words in any language to describe the strange features of the stranger, of those eyes that were burning with real fire, without seeming more unreliable. ¡®He said people were going to die,¡¯ Asher admitted. ¡®Everyone. He said everyone is going to die.¡¯


    ¡®That¡¯s vague,¡¯ Navarre said. ¡®We all die eventually.¡¯


    ¡®That was why he took your sword?¡¯ Norrah asked.


    Asher nodded. ¡®I think he was looking to defend himself. It...¡¯ he threw up his hands. ¡®It felt real. He was really terrified.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯m not completely convinced,¡¯ Navarre said. ¡®Maybe it was real to him. Even if this stranger believed it, it doesn¡¯t make it real.¡¯


    Asher ran his hands through his hair.


    ¡®Maybe you should take the afternoon,¡¯ Navarre said. ¡®Just until the Lieutenant gets back. You¡¯re not acting like yourself and it¡¯s worrying me.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯m fine,¡¯ Asher mumbled.


    ¡®No, you¡¯re not,¡¯ Navarre said.


    ¡®It does look like you¡¯re throwing yourself at something to not continue the conversation,¡¯ Navarre pointed out. When Asher threw him a look, Navarre held up his hands. ¡®I want to hear you, Asher. I want to believe you, but explain it in a way that makes sense. What¡¯s the real reason?¡¯


    ¡®You¡¯re not hearing me,¡¯ Asher growled. Of course this wasn¡¯t about the actual situation. Navarre still wanted an answer that was not the one he got. Frustration burned through him, and it took physical effort to hold it back. Him losing control now would only have him removed, and then he was no use to anyone.


    Norrah shifted then, staring at Asher for a long beat, before turning to Navarre. ¡®I¡¯m confused,¡¯ she said. ¡®Do people here not trust your watch?¡¯


    Navarre blinked. ¡®What?¡¯


    ¡®Depends on who you ask,¡¯ Asher mumbled.


    ¡®Why would a few patrol men wondering around make people afraid?¡¯ Norrah asked. ¡®Surely, since everyone is afraid, it would comfort them to know they are being watched over. Though, there are stories in my country that there is a divide between your leaders and your people. I didn¡¯t think it was that severe.¡¯


    ¡®It¡¯s not.¡¯ There was a bite to Navarre¡¯s words. ¡®But there are things to consider. People will see the guards and think there is a reason they¡¯re being guarded. That wasn¡¯t the point anyway. If we go chasing every single little issue like this, we¡¯ll never solve anything.¡¯


    ¡®A threat towards the lives of every person in this market is hardly a little issue,¡¯ Norrah pointed out. ¡®It seems to me you are the one letting a conversation cloud your judgement.¡¯


    ¡®I promise you my judgement is crystal clear,¡¯ Navarre said. ¡®I¡¯m just concerned that the Lieutenant walked away in the middle of a conversation with such a drastic revelation.¡¯


    ¡®Both of you cut it out,¡¯ Asher snapped. ¡®No, the people don¡¯t have absolute faith in the watch, and no, I did not leave in the middle of our conversation. The conversation was over.¡¯


    Navarre paled. ¡®It wasn¡¯t, I--¡¯


    ¡®Yes. It was.¡¯


    ¡®If you two insist on having this kind of squabble now, then do it now while we still have time,¡¯ Norrah said. ¡®But keep it between you, and do not bring it into the situation at hand.¡¯


    ¡®Yes, ma¡¯am,¡¯ Asher mumbled.


    As Norrah turned on her heel and marched back up the stairs, Navarre chuckled. ¡®You really are a soldier boy.¡¯


    ¡®She¡¯s supposed to be duchess,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®You should be following her orders too.¡¯


    ¡®Yeah, I¡¯ll try and remember that,¡¯ Navarre said. He sighed. ¡®I just need to know that you don¡¯t hate me. Even if this is over.¡¯


    ¡®What¡¯s over?¡¯ Asher asked.


    ¡®You don¡¯t want anything between us.¡¯


    ¡®No, but... is friendship on its own not enough?¡¯ Asher asked.


    A wry smile crossed Navarre¡¯s features. ¡®We can stay friends. Though I want to ask--¡¯


    A scream tore through the air.

 Chapter 2.3 - The Market Begins to Change

    Asher sprang into motion, taking the stairs two at a time as he tore towards the sound, Navarre close on his heels. The crowd parted as he rushed through, the faces turned toward the source of the noise, though none were moving.


    It was a small boy at the centre of the commotion. He couldn¡¯t have been more than five or six years old, with a mop of sandy hair and the aged frills of a peasant¡¯s best clothes. Tears streaked down his red face, and as a ring of people crowded around him, his lip wobbled. Asher waved the closest ones away, then knelt down in front of the boy. The boy sniffled and wiped his nose on his sleeve.


    ¡®Are you alright?¡¯ Asher asked. ¡®What happened?¡¯


    Fresh tears streamed down the boy¡¯s face.


    ¡®He can¡¯t find his mother,¡¯ a woman in the crowd said.


    ¡®Is that what happened?¡¯ Asher asked. ¡®Are you lost?¡¯


    ¡®It was the monster,¡¯ the boy said. ¡®The monster took her!¡¯


    A deep chill ran down the length of Asher¡¯s spine. ¡®A monster?¡¯ he echoed.


    ¡®There¡¯s some stall over there selling wooden carvings,¡¯ the woman said. ¡®A lot of the kids are afraid of them.¡¯


    ¡®Ma¡¯am, please.¡¯ Asher signalled for her to be quiet, and she huffed.


    ¡®It was real!¡¯ The boy stamped his foot hard against the ground. ¡®It was real! I saw it! It took mama!¡¯


    ¡®Okay, it¡¯s okay,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®I believe you.¡¯


    ¡®I was hiding from it, and mama told me to get out of her skirt, so I did and I went behind the shop and I saw the monster.¡¯


    He¡¯s just been separated from her and panicked. That¡¯s all this is. Asher couldn¡¯t bring himself to believe the thought. ¡®Are you here with anyone else?¡¯


    The boy shook his head.


    Asher scanned the crowd, and his eyes fell on Navarre and Norrah standing on the edge of the commotion, watching him. He pointed Norrah out to the boy. ¡®See that lady there?¡¯ he asked. ¡®She¡¯s a monster fighter. The best in the whole kingdom. Do you want to stay with her while we find your mama?¡¯


    The boy stared up at Norrah with wide eyes, then rushed forward and threw himself into her legs, disappearing into the folds of her skirt. Norrah stroked at his hair. ¡®We¡¯ll go to the Town Hall,¡¯ she told Asher. ¡®I¡¯ll let the other guards know there¡¯s a lost boy.¡¯


    Asher nodded as she turned and lead the boy back through the crowd. The crowd stayed in their strange stasis, each of them glancing over each other as though the missing mother was somewhere amongst them. Asher found himself scanning the faces as well. Surely this woman would realise the child wasn¡¯t with her? Even if she hadn¡¯t, she would soon enough.


    Everyone here is going to die.


    He considered for a moment what it would mean for this to be the worst case scenario, if what happened to Valenda was the start of a chain reaction that would now come here. Did it start this way, with uneasy feelings and people slipping through the cracks one by one? Or was this simply a case of a boy being pulled around by a hectic crowd?


    The latter. Of course it was the latter.


    Asher got to his feet and brushed himself off, considering the market around him. Finding a singular person in this was going to be impossible. He needed to start where the boy said it had. A questioning glance to the woman in the crowd pointed him towards the stall in question. Navarre quickly rushed to catch up.


    ¡®Need a hand?¡¯ he asked.


    ¡®Wouldn¡¯t hurt,¡¯ Asher said.


    He noticed the two guards in the crowd again, and this time the male approached.


    ¡®I need a few more of yours on the ground,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®A couple of eyes, nothing to serious. The sooner we handle this, the less it¡¯ll blow up into something serious.¡¯


    ¡®Do you think it could, sir?¡¯ the guard asked. ¡®Turn into something serious?¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t want to take that chance,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®I know I¡¯m not your Lieutenant, but I¡¯ll explain myself when she gets back. We just need to keep things calm until then.¡¯


    The guard saluted then rushed through the crowd and towards the town hall. Asher pushed on.


    The stall in question wasn¡¯t hard to find. It sat firmly wedged between two produce tables, all of them pressed up against the closed off buildings on the edge of the market. This one was a simple table with a white awning, and the surface was covered in crude figures of wood and metal, all of them a mismatch of toys forced together by fire and glue. Asher picked up one near the edge and took in the details. None of it was in proportion. The base suggested a bear up on its hind legs, and its paws were raised as if to come down in attack. The head had been removed and replaced with a smaller head of a human, with thick metal needles bursting from the back of its head as hair. The back legs had been melted together and lumped onto two sticks that might have been the feet of a bird, but it was impossible to tell.


    ¡®Wow, no wonder the kid freaked out,¡¯ Navarre commented. He picked up a toy of his own and wriggled it towards Asher. ¡®I know what to get you for your birthday at least.¡¯


    Asher rolled his eyes and placed the figure back down. The shopkeeper watched them both, a bemused expression on his face. He was an older man, all bone and sinew, with long, stringy limbs and a neck that seemed too narrow to hold up his head. Only a few wisps of hair still clung to his pockmarked head. Dark eyes locked onto Asher as his grin spread wider.


    ¡®Did you see a boy and his mother here before?¡¯ Asher asked him.


    ¡®Seen a lot of boys and a lot of mothers today,¡¯ the man said. ¡®None of them strange or unusual.¡¯


    ¡®So the young boy screaming just now,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®You didn¡¯t see what that was all about?¡¯


    The man shook his head. ¡®I heard it if that¡¯s what you mean. Seen a few tears today too. Not what you¡¯re looking for though.¡¯


    His grin widened, flashing white teeth, and Asher shivered.


    ¡®This isn¡¯t something to laugh about,¡¯ Navarre said.


    ¡®I agree,¡¯ the shopkeeper said. ¡®Laughing is only for games. Do you like games, Lieutenant?¡¯


    ¡®Alright, that¡¯ll be all for now,¡¯ Asher said. He turned away from the stall, then grabbed Navarre to pull him away as well. Navarre stared after the man at the stall, frowning.


    ¡®There¡¯s definitely some odd characters around,¡¯ he mumbled.


    ¡®Something doesn¡¯t feel right,¡¯ Asher mumbled.


    ¡®Do you think there are actually monsters?¡¯ Navarre¡¯s voice had a teasing edge.


    ¡®No,¡¯ Asher rolled his eyes. ¡®Don¡¯t insult me.¡¯


    He scanned the crowd around him. If the mother was still in the market, wouldn¡¯t she have noticed by now? Even neglectful parents put on a facade a lot of the time, and drawing that kind of attention had alerted everyone in the whole square. If he believed they were simply separated, the longer no-one came forward, the more it seemed she wasn¡¯t in the market at all.


    ¡®You thinking what I¡¯m thinking?¡¯ Navarre asked. ¡®She had to have noticed the commotion.¡¯


    Asher grunted in agreement. ¡®We should pull up a few more guards, or some of the volunteers, just to expand out into the streets.¡¯


    ¡®I say we get a few in these alleyways, so people start using the main streets,¡¯ Navarre said. ¡®Stop anyone trying any--¡¯


    A hand grabbed Asher¡¯s arm and yanked hard, making him stumbled. The woman who had grabbed him was red in the face, and tears were openly streaming down her face. With her other hand she wrung a cowl tight in her fists.


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    ¡®Sir, please.¡¯ Her voice shook. ¡®I can¡¯t find my baby. I¡¯ve looked everywhere.¡¯


    Asher breathed a sigh of relief. ¡®It¡¯s okay, we found him. He¡¯s up at the town hall.¡¯


    The woman¡¯s brow creased in confusion, and her grip on his arm tightened. ¡®No, no that¡¯s... my daughter, sir. My little girl. I can¡¯t find her. She¡¯s only three. Please. You have to help.¡¯


    Something tight and painful twisted Asher¡¯s stomach hard, and he exchanged a glance with Navarre. ¡®Alright, where did you see her last?¡¯ he asked.


    ¡®We were looking at the cakes.¡¯ The woman¡¯s voice rasped as tears choked the words. ¡®She wanted to walk, and I don¡¯t usually let her walk, but she had hold of my hand and when I let go I pointed to a cake she wanted and I put my hand back down and she was gone.¡¯


    ¡®Okay, we¡¯ll find her,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®She can¡¯t have gotten far.¡¯


    ¡®Take yourself up to the town hall,¡¯ Navarre said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, which she took with a small thanks. ¡®The duchess is organising the town guard at the moment, and she¡¯ll pull together a few boys for you. We¡¯ll look in the meantime.¡¯


    The woman nodded, and Asher noticed one of the guards in question approaching. He guided the woman towards the woman in uniform, who took her by the shoulder and began mumbling small comforts. Asher scanned the market, and spotted a bakery table not far from where they were standing.


    ¡®Alright, I see what you mean about bad feelings,¡¯ Navarre mumbled.


    ¡®Believe me now?¡¯ Asher asked.


    ¡®Don¡¯t get smart. Let¡¯s just deal with this.¡¯


    Asher pushed over to the bakery store, noting all the cakes and pastries lined up in a glass box, the glazed surfaces and small piles of fruit on top, the creams and the jams and the dollops of chocolate. His mouth watered at the sight. There was a plump woman with a shock of red hair behind the table, her dress and apron covered in flour.


    ¡®I already heard you,¡¯ she said. ¡®There¡¯s no little girl here, but you¡¯re more than welcome to come back here and have a look around.¡¯


    Asher complied, stepping behind the counter and lifting the tablecloth to check under the table. Boxes and crates sat piled in a mismatched collection behind the woman, and he searched over and around each one for a tiny body. The baker woman watched him with her hands on her hips.


    ¡®I believe you,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®But these kids can get into everything and anything, and it only takes a second. I just want to check every corner.¡¯


    ¡®Don¡¯t gotta tell me,¡¯ the baker said. ¡®I got three of my own.¡¯


    There was no sign of a child anywhere. ¡®You¡¯re not missing one, are you?¡¯ he asked.


    The woman shook her head. ¡®Wouldn¡¯t know. Father has them today. I heard the screaming if that¡¯s what you mean. It wasn¡¯t one of mine.¡¯


    Asher nodded and stepped back out onto the road. ¡®Keep an eye out for me, please.¡¯


    As the woman agreed, Asher turned and scanned each person that passed, but he didn¡¯t know what kind of person he was even looking for. Navarre was lifting the tablecloth of the nearby tables, and when he noticed Asher he rushed back over. The air around the market had changed. It had become languid, sombre, and everything had slowed to a dull shuffle. It wouldn¡¯t be long before people decided it was safer inside and started leaving.


    He rushed into the next street and spotted the male guard from before, talking to an older couple who were gripping each other with white knuckles. As Asher approached, they both shied away and hurried off.


    ¡®New plan,¡¯ Asher told the guard. ¡®If people are going to start leaving or moving away, then I want a headcount. Have everyone join with the people they arrived with, and if everyone is accounted for, they can go past one of the guards you¡¯ll station at the street exits. If not, they move to the Town Hall.¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t know if we have the numbers for that, sir,¡¯ the guard said.


    ¡®Pull in a few volunteers,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®I just want to make sure that if people are leaving, they¡¯re leaving with their whole party. Otherwise the place will clear out and we¡¯ll have no chance of sorting it out.¡¯


    ¡®Yes, sir,¡¯ the guard said. ¡®Should we also follow Lady Norrah¡¯s orders to be on alert for suspicious characters?¡¯


    ¡®Yes,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®Are there any updates on that end?¡¯


    ¡®Only that the old couple just now lost their dog,¡¯ the guard said. ¡®And they were concerned.¡¯


    ¡®Concerned about the boy?¡¯ Navarre asked.


    ¡®About one of the stalls, sir,¡¯ the guard said. ¡®Apparently the owner has been scaring the kids all day. More than a few people have complained about him.¡¯


    ¡®Oh, let me guess,¡¯ Navarre said. ¡®Little figurines of ugly little monsters.¡¯


    ¡®That¡¯s the one, sir.¡¯


    Asher rubbed at his eyes and dismissed the guard. He watched as the man approached another uniformed officer on the corner and relay the information, before disappearing into the crowd. No-one else seemed out of place around him, no-one seemed lost or looking for something. Yet, the air was growing heavy.


    ¡®You still seem stressed,¡¯ Navarre said.


    ¡®I think I have a good reason to be stressed,¡¯ Asher said.


    Movement flickered across the corner of his eye, and he turned to see the hooded stranger crossing between the stalls. The stranger paused, and those burning orange eyes locked on to Asher, before he turned and disappeared around the corner. Asher shouted after him, then rushed after the fleeing cape, coming around the corner to see no figure even similar to the man with burning eyes. Instead, he saw the stall with the monster figurines.


    He blinked, and glanced around. Somehow he¡¯d been turned around, though he couldn¡¯t place the direction he¡¯d taken to end up back here. The old man continued to smile at him, still with that mocking, bemused smile on his face.


    ¡®I¡¯m warning you to cut that out right now,¡¯ Navarre growled.


    The man didn¡¯t say anything. He didn¡¯t stop smiling either.


    The bakery. There was no bakery down the path. Not on either side. There were no cakes or glass display, no baker. He could have sworn they weren¡¯t that far away from one another.


    ¡®You look stressed, Lieutenant,¡¯ the old man said. ¡®Perhaps a quick stop will put you back in sorts.¡¯


    ¡®No, thank you,¡¯ Asher said. The ground was beginning to tilt beneath his feet, and he felt lightheaded. The baker had been right there, only a few stalls down, and now there was no sign of her or her stall anywhere.


    ¡®What¡¯s this about you bothering the people here?¡¯ Navarre asked. ¡®Got anything to say?¡¯


    ¡®I am not talking to you,¡¯ the shopkeeper said. ¡®I am talking to the Lieutenant.¡¯


    ¡®Answer his question,¡¯ Asher ordered.


    The old man didn¡¯t. Navarre frowned and grabbed Asher¡¯s arm. ¡®You alright?¡¯ he asked.


    ¡®Yeah.¡¯ Asher shook the light-headedness away. ¡®Just the excitement. I think we need to regroup.¡¯


    ¡®I would much rather you stay,¡¯ the shopkeeper said. ¡®You seem an interesting study.¡¯


    Asher blinked as another wave of dizziness washed over him. The ground was tilting more violently now. ¡®What are you talking about?¡¯


    The man¡¯s face smiled more obviously at the question, warping the skin of his face as it stretched to an impossible length. He then lunged over the table. ¡®You smell like the gatekeeper!¡¯


    Asher recoiled, but when he blinked the man was standing normally behind his stall, still watching Asher with that same tight smile. A normal, non-tooth smile.


    ¡®What are you doing?¡¯ Navarre hissed in his ear.


    Asher glanced down and saw that his hand was locked around the hilt of his sword, and it had been partly pulled free of its scabbard. A few people had stopped to stare at him. Not at the man throwing himself over the table, but at Asher. The figures spread across the table hadn¡¯t even been disturbed. He shook his head frantically, pushing the fog from his brain, and he locked the sword back into place.


    ¡®You need to start answering our questions,¡¯ Navarre snapped at the shopkeeper. ¡®We will arrest you on suspicion of harming the kids. Or being a public nuisance.¡¯


    ¡®You will not,¡¯ the shopkeeper said. ¡®The Lieutenant and I are about to start a game. It is rude to interrupt.¡¯


    Before Asher could argue, the toothy, wide grin stretched across the old man¡¯s face again. It grew wider, then kept going. Gums and teeth split across his cheeks, until his mouth had curved around to both of his ears. The teeth kept spreading through the gap even as the hole had nowhere else to go. Welts of blood appeared on his cheeks and along his jaw, then burst open as those same teeth broke through the skin, growing long and pointed.


    Asher could only stare. Everything around him fell into a dulled haze as he took in the monster before him. One of the needle-like teeth punctured his eye, stabbing through the surface and stretching towards his brow. The remaining eye fixed on Asher, watching him. Asher swallowed, but no air would go down. He could hear his blood roaring in his ears, but his legs wouldn¡¯t move. No part of his body would move.


    ¡®We don¡¯t want you interfering.¡¯ The man spoke, but the grotesque gash that used to be his mouth didn¡¯t move. The voice came from somewhere deep in his throat, underneath the horrifying visual. ¡®You came to interfere. And you brought the gatekeeper. Naughty, naughty boy.¡¯


    ¡®Asher, what¡¯s gotten into you?¡¯ Navarre grabbed his shoulder and forced him to turn away from the monster. The other man was staring at Asher, his brow low and knotted in confusion. He wasn¡¯t staring at the monster. ¡®What are you doing?¡¯


    Asher turned back to the stall, and cried out when he saw the monster was still there. Still watching him. It leaned forward, hovering over the table and reaching closer. A bloody mess of gore and tissue dropped from the remains of it¡¯s eye and onto the table.


    Asher drew his sword, pulling it free in one swift motion and thrusting it towards the creature. His hands shook. His whole body shook.


    ¡®Asher!¡¯ Navarre cried.


    The monster continued to stare.


    ¡®What is this?¡¯ Asher demanded. ¡®What are you doing?¡¯


    ¡®Asher, what are you doing?¡¯ Navarre tried to pull Asher¡¯s arm down, but Asher refused to budge. ¡®You¡¯re losing it!¡¯


    ¡®How do you not see it?¡¯ Asher cried. No-one else was reacting, no-one else was looking at that thing at the table. They were all staring at him as though he had gone mad. Except it was real, and it was right there, even though Asher couldn¡¯t comprehend how.


    ¡®Look at you, so frightened already,¡¯ the monster said. ¡®You will be fun to break.¡¯


    The monster stepped through the table as though it wasn¡¯t there. It straightened and stepped towards Asher, passing through the solid wood without so much as a twitch of its muscles. Asher gripped his sword with both hands, his breath echoing out fast and shallow. The blade wouldn¡¯t do anything. It wasn¡¯t designed to do anything. The monster came closer.


    Asher backed up, jerking backwards to put some space between him and the abomination. His foot hit a loose stone, and with a cry of alarm his feet flew out from under him, throwing him down onto his back hard enough to knock his teeth together. He scrambled back, ignoring the shouts and curses as he crashed into the stall behind him.


    The gash across the monsters face opened then, revealing a horrid black abyss beyond the teeth. Asher scrambled back onto his feet as a large, bulbous tongue flopped out of of the monster¡¯s mouth, rolling out and down until the thick, solid mass fell to the ground. The stones hissed and bubbled around it, turning to a black liquid.


    This wasn¡¯t real. It couldn¡¯t be real.


    Navarre¡¯s voice cut through his terror. ¡®Asher, look out!¡¯


    A clawed hand wrapped around his arm, and as Asher noted the too long fingers, the smoke rising from his coat at the touch, it yanked hard. Asher fell again, the force ripping him beneath the tablecloth, where darkness swallowed him and he kept falling.

 Chapter 3.1 - Into the Underlands

    Asher tumbled. He hit the ground over and over, slamming into the earth with his side, his arms, his legs, his back, until something knocked against his head and he finally rolled to a stop against the stone. Silence pressed down around him, made noticeable by a sharp ringing in his ears. The noise of the market had disappeared, leaving in its place a thick fog that clouded his brain. His head ached, and skin had been torn from his arms and face.


    He forced himself to his feet, then screamed in alarm. The market was gone. There were no stalls, no people, no buildings or anything. There was only shadows and rock. He lay at the bottom of a steep hill, in a strange cave with no sign of an exit. He couldn¡¯t even see the top of the rise he had fallen down. The craggy rocks were illuminated by veins of fluorescent light, pulsing like a heartbeat in blues and reds and golds. The roof above him was made of grass. Not the moss that clung to the rocky hills outside of Ralkauda, but real, trimmed grass, complete with small dandelions and bladed weeds. Asher¡¯s breath echoed out, panicked and sharp against the empty air. His hand gripped his sword tight enough to break the skin of his palms.


    Maybe Navarre was right; he was losing his mind. This wasn¡¯t real. It couldn¡¯t be real.


    He glanced around desperately, searching for sign of life or something that would break the illusion. Maybe he was beneath Dalvany. Like the young man in the hospital who had fallen through the crack in Valenda. The man who was catatonic and turning grey. That didn¡¯t mean it would happen to him, not in the same way. There had to be a way to get back. There had to be a logical explanation for this new place and the disappearing people, and the man with a face made out of teeth.


    This wasn¡¯t real.


    Asher pressed his weight into the slope of the rocky wall, but nothing gave any clue of how far he had fallen, and there was nothing he could use to support his weight either. Picking up a loose rock by his feet, he tossed it hard up the rise, but it disappeared into the shadow, and no noise sounded to suggest there was a roof or a gap of any kind.


    ¡®You will not get out the way you came in.¡¯


    Asher whirled around, brandishing his sword in both hands. The guard wasn¡¯t made to be held with both, and his fingers bent awkwardly under the metal. It was the shopkeeper who stood behind him, teeth still jutting out of the holes punched in his face, one dark eye fixed on Asher. Asher tried to stop his legs from shaking. It¡¯s not real. If it was real, he would fold and admit he had gone insane, but it wasn¡¯t real, and he would not fold.


    ¡®Who are you?¡¯ Asher demanded. ¡®How--how are you doing this?¡¯


    Was he still in the market? Swinging his fake sword around and talking to shadows? How far had the madness really dug into his mind?


    ¡®I am the Alchemist,¡¯ the shopkeeper said. ¡®And you are not Jaliti debne Nakati. Tell me where the real one is.¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about!¡¯ Asher¡¯s whole body shook. There had to be something in this, something that would break the illusion and take him back to the market. He would check himself into the hospital and stay there until the nightmare of this image left his head.


    ¡®Then run.¡¯


    That bulbous, tar-like tongue burst from the creatures mouth, and Asher threw himself to the ground as it punctured the rock behind his head, driving a deep hole into the surface. Stars splattered across Asher¡¯s vision, and he scrambled too his feet as the monster lunged forward. He swung his sword wild, the motion off balance and thrust in the creature¡¯s general direction. It struck it¡¯s neck, and the metal bent as though he had struck a wall.


    The sword hissed, steam bursting across the tip, before it began to melt. Acidic bubbles popped along its surface, running along the edge before it reached the guard and disintegrated completely. Hot air burned at the hairs on his hands, and Asher cried out in alarm, tossing the blade down. Only a black, bubbling goo landed at his feet.


    The monster with the teeth fixed its black eye on him, and the gash across its face split open further, mimicking a crude imitation of a smile.


    Asher ran.


    He ran fast and blind, throwing himself down the length of the cave, his feet pounding against the stone, echoing out through the wide mouth. The pulsing veins around him threw as many shadows around as they did a path he could follow, and Asher¡¯s foot struck stray rocks, his side slammed into jagged stone, but he pushed on. He tripped and struck himself against sharp edges, his weight staggering more than once, but he continued on. Thoughts in his head were muted by blind panic, and his drive was automatic. Fear pulled him forward against his will. His will screamed for him to keep going.


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    Something slammed into his ankle and he skidded across the dirt, skin tearing off his face and hands as dirt and blood filled his mouth. When he managed to pull himself up, he saw the creature with only teeth for a head standing over him again. Asher screamed, his limbs pulling himself up as he struggled to comprehend how this was even happening. The air was too quiet to be natural; he could hear his own blood pounding through his veins, every scrape of his boots against the ground, he could even swear he heard his bones rattling as his entire body shook.


    The ground gave out under him, as if the grass were nothing more than rotting timber, and the already inky blackness splattered with spots of white as Asher fell, and kept falling. He tumbled down the uneven ground, rolling and landing on his head, then his back, then his arms, his back again, before skidding to a halt and tearing the skin from his hands and cheek. Light seeped through his doubling vision, and Asher prayed he had fallen back into the market and all of this had been some crazed hallucination. Instead, when he shook himself and glanced up, he screamed.


    The wooden monster, the abomination he had discarded at the old man¡¯s shop now stood in front of him as a real, flesh and blood creature, no longer a tiny toy, but ten feet tall. Mismatched eyes stared down at him, the human - the girl¡¯s - eye wide and fearful and stained red. The other was a crude mess of stitches over a slit. It let out a garbled, struggling rasp of noises, then one of the bear paws - bear paws that were stitched into the human neck - tore through the air. Asher rolled out of the way as it smashed the ground where his head used to be. The creature reared up and twisted around impossibly fast, and Asher tried to get to his feet, but the paw came down again and he dove out of the way, tumbling off balance and knocking himself into a large rock.


    Stars swam across his vision, and his brain scrambled for something, anything he could use to defend himself, but he didn¡¯t want to believe this was real, that the creature in front of him existed at all. Movement dashed across his vision from the other side of the rock, and his stomach churned at the thought there were more, his fear rooting down deep.


    The claws came down again, and Asher leapt out of the way, but they slammed into his side. Hot, blinding pain shot through his ribs and Asher cried out, hitting the ground hard. The burning stickiness of blood spread across his shirt, the searing heat digging into his skin and tearing with every breath.


    He was going to die.


    The creature stood at its full height again, towering over him, and Asher dug his elbows into the ground, gritting his teeth and forcing his body to move inches at a time. He was about to die. There was nothing he could do, no sense that could be made, and that didn¡¯t even matter.


    The ground began to rumble, shaking violently and sending another wave of stabbing pain through Asher¡¯s side. The last of hiss strength sapped away as he scratched against the gravel, bracing for the final blow, but instead the creature above him roared.


    Asher found the strength to roll around, in time to see thick weeds burst out of the ground and wrap around the creature¡¯s stitched limb, squeezing tight before ripping it free. Thick, black tar like blood pumped from the hole, and the monster gave another strangled scream as those same weeds went for the other leg.


    A human arm was grabbing Asher¡¯s, pulling him to his feet. Asher struggled, but his limbs only spasmed at the pain in his ribs. It was the stranger from the alley who had hold of him, his amber eyes glowing impossibly bright in the darkness. With a shout in an unknown language, the stranger - Penn - thrust his other arm out with his fingers splayed, and the weeds wrapped around the creatures arm, then burst into a sudden flash of white flame. Asher¡¯s scream was drowned out as the creature roared and thrashed in agony, but the now burning weeds held firm.


    The teeth monster stepped out from behind it, his face twisting into a scowl. ¡®Look who finally showed up.¡¯


    Penn glared at the Alchemist, his eyes burning so bright Asher could see smoke rising from the top of his head.


    ¡®You should have brought more friends along, Jaliti,¡¯ the Alchemist chided.


    Penn thrust his arm out in a wide arch, and the grassy ceiling above them cracked with a deafening boom, before a mass of rocks and debris rained down on the creature¡¯s head. When the pluming dust cleared, Asher heard a cackling laugh echo out.


    ¡®What the fuck is going on?¡¯ he cried.


    ¡®Can you fight?¡¯ Penn asked.


    Asher was growing tired of people not answering his questions. He inspected the deep gashes across his chest. They burned, sharp and constant. ¡®I-I think so.¡¯


    ¡®The rock behind you. Pick it up.¡¯


    Asher stumbled back automatically, almost tripping over the large, long rock in question. Leaning over made his injuries scream in protest, and as he wrapped his fist around the end in an attempt to lift it, the stone instead crumbled at his touch.


    It broke into the shape of a sword.


    The surface was crude and jagged, no edge of the blade smooth enough to be considered a sword. Rather, grey, pointed teeth that jabbed out of the guard. The handle itself was perfectly fitted into his fist, and the thing had weight to it, surprisingly balanced.


    ¡®There is a door somewhere,¡¯ Penn said. ¡®We need to find it.¡¯


    Without another word, he turned on his heel and pushed further into the cave. He flicked his wrist upward, and his glove caught fire, a blinding white light flickering across the walls. Asher rushed to catch up.


    ¡®Who are you?¡¯ he demanded.


    ¡®My name is Penn,¡¯ Penn said.


    ¡®You said that before,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®But... how are you doing that? How did you know these things were going to happen?¡¯


    Penn didn¡¯t answer.


    ¡®Are you a witch?¡¯


    ¡®No.¡¯ Penn bit the word at him, making Asher flinch. He didn¡¯t even know where that question came from. Witches weren¡¯t real. Neither was any of this.

 Chapter 3.2 - The Land of Demons

    The music started without warning. Eerie and soft and whispering through the empty black around him. The melody carried an alien aspect to it, in the high waves of sound that may have been strings or may have been voices, in the soft beat that pulled him in, to the way it echoed from afar but sank into the base of his brain. It reminded him of death, of old age and his own mortality as nothing more than a blimp in the cosmic calendar, a flame like Penn¡¯s, that would snuff out once he looked away. It calmed him, pulled him towards it, beckoning softly in the same way death beckoned everyone. Had he already died? Was that what this was?


    Then came the lights. Similar to Penn¡¯s but coloured in all ranges of the spectrum, they danced through the air with the music, weightless and drifting out of focus, blurring towards the sky. They drifted from a large bonfire ahead of them, wide and burning bright, but hard to look at. Asher¡¯s eyes couldn¡¯t focus, the flames blurring as they climbed higher, the hundreds of colours doubling and rippling through the air, joined with waves that might have been colours he couldn¡¯t see, all of it collected into one place.


    He didn¡¯t see the monsters until he had almost stepped up to the fire, and Penn pulled him back, snuffing out the light in his hand as the creatures danced past. Hundreds of them pulled into focus, all moving around the fire slowly and languid, smooth and in time to the music despite their horrid bodies. A ritual.


    Asher saw more creatures like the one that had attacked him, all teeth and disjointed limbs. He saw a woman in a performance dress, and when she spun a high string sailed through the music. She raised her arms above her head, and her skin fell away as though they were loose sleeves, showing only bone underneath. He saw a human shape covered in bandages, but the gaps between the cloth showed only a black abyss on the inside, and people who crumbled and cracked with every movement, as though they were aged dust being shaken free. The more he stared, the more monsters appeared, each more horrible than the last, a mix of putty-like skin, fur and scales, rock and metal.


    He couldn¡¯t breathe.


    ¡®What is this?¡¯ he asked Penn.


    ¡®Questions later,¡¯ Penn hissed. ¡®The door is close.¡¯


    ¡®How can you tell?¡¯


    ¡®Humans.¡¯


    Asher turned back to the monsters, to the light, his legs weak at the horrible sight in front of him. Crouched in the shadows, he felt like a little kid facing inner fears even his most active imagination could never come up with. Then he spotted a woman amongst the mass. She didn¡¯t dance, but walked around and around the fire in a daze, her feet dragging as she followed the other humans with them, each of them keeping to a single file. He tried to focus on a singular face, trying to see if he recognised any of them, but the effort sent another wave of dizziness crashing onto him. She looked strange and other-worldly compared to her company. Her movements were robotic and unnatural, and her face was slack, glazed over and unfocused.


    Asher gripped the sword tighter. He wasn¡¯t going to die in here. He was going to do his job. It was all he had, and it was all he needed to do.


    ¡®Can you get us out of here?¡¯ he asked Penn. Whether or not he could even trust this stranger was another question entirely.


    In the low light of the strange flames, Penn nodded. ¡®Yes¡¯


    That was good enough for now. Ignoring another wave of pain as he got to his feet, Asher shook his head until the music wasn¡¯t worming its way into the deep roots of his brain. He took a careful step towards the fire. If he only stared at the woman, not at the monsters or the fire, then he could do this. It wasn¡¯t real. None of this could be real, and once he got out of here, it would disappear as a bad dream.


    The woman came closer and closer, and Asher took a deep breath, pushing his panic deep into his gut, then lunged forward and grabbed the woman, yanking her from the circle and back towards Penn. The woman stumbled after him, but didn¡¯t struggle. Instead she stared straight and empty-eyed, stumbling as Asher dragging her away. He shivered, then shook her shoulder. He was aware of the flame in his peripherals, of the monsters still dancing, but he forced himself not to look back. He shook her harder.


    ¡®Ma¡¯am?¡¯


    The woman blinked, and her head turned in his direction, still dazed and unfocused. She gave a soft hum, and Asher became aware he was digging his fingers into her skin. He pushed her towards Penn, who caught her easily. He was sure if he held the sword any tighter, it would crumble to dust.


    Don¡¯t panic¡­ Don¡¯t panic¡­


    Come and play instead.


    Asher cried out and he pushed his palms into his ears, blocking out the voice that had been his voice, but hadn¡¯t come from him. The music grew louder, physically pulling at him, gripping his limbs and tugging, burning. He couldn¡¯t give in, but at the same time he couldn¡¯t fight it. His body was tense; he knew he had to dance, and there was no other option. An endless dance. An endless party where his feet would fall off before he was allowed to stop.


    But it sounds so inviting, so calming.


    Like death always is.


    You¡¯ll only be returning to an endless dance if they let you go anyway.


    Why not just give in?


    ¡®Shut up!¡¯ Asher was on his knees before he realised, his hands pulling at his curls, his entire body screaming as he fought back. He wanted to scream, but his voice failed. He wanted to run into the darkness, forever and ever, keep running until there was nothing left. He wanted to take the sword and slash and stab at every monster here, to prove they weren¡¯t real, that nothing was real. The only thing that made sense was the fire, that impossible spectrum of a fire that was so blurred and changed colours when he blinked, yet so solid and sure and real.


    ¡®Stop!¡¯


    Asher¡¯s eyes shot open and he cried out, pulling his leg from the fire as Penn grabbed his collar and yanked him back. The motion sent him spinning, and before he knew it he was stumbling around and around with the other humans. He could feel Penn still gripping his coat behind him. He tried to pull his thoughts together, but nothing stuck. How he had moved, when he had approached the fire, he didn¡¯t know. He wasn¡¯t sure he could feel his own body anymore.


    ¡®Focus,¡¯ Penn hissed the words in his ear. ¡®Keep moving, but focus on your steps. I have found the door.¡¯


    ¡®How do we get all these people to it?¡¯ Asher whispered back.


    ¡®Slowly. One at a time. You break them from their trance. I will make openings.¡¯


    Asher nodded, feeling the grip lift from his coat. The strange noises ¨C which weren¡¯t music at all, but a cacophony of chittering and screeching and clicking from the monsters around him. Up close, none of them were moving at the same pace or to the same beat; each of them heard their own noise and moved to it. He wondered if he had found his way into Hell, if these creatures were the ones who were trapped here, corrupted beyond recognition and hungry for a victim in their depravity.


    The dizziness took hold of him, and in an instant he lashed out and grabbed the arm of the woman in front of him. She gasped, tensing and stumbling, but he pushed her forward. ¡®Keep moving,¡¯ he whispered. ¡®We¡¯re going to get you out of here. Just keep walking and don¡¯t say anything.¡¯


    The woman gave a frantic nod, and her head turned to try and look at Asher, but she staggered again and snapped back to the view in front of her. Slowly, they marched on, Asher keeping a grip on her arm for his own sake as much as hers, when he noticed a gap in the circle. It was small, but there was a point where the demons were a little further apart than the others. He willed the humans to move faster, the weary pace growing all the more frustrating, until finally they came closer and closer to the gap he had noticed.


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    Asher shoved the woman through in one quick motion, and she fell into Penn¡¯s waiting grip, and he quickly spun her into the darkness where she disappeared. Asher rushed to close the gap in the circle of humans, and as he did the other humans followed with him, drawing closer to the fire. He wouldn¡¯t think about that now. Instead, he reached out and caught the shoulder of the teenage boy in front of him. In the corner of his eye, he saw one of the demons tear away into the dark and vanish, leaving a gap where it once spun.


    One by one Asher pulled the others out of their daze, some needing a simple tap, while others needed to be shaken with a worrying amount of violence. One girl who couldn¡¯t have been older than sixteen didn¡¯t need to be snapped out of it at all, but rather had shakily been following the others to hide amongst them. Each of them were pushed through the opening made by Penn, and each one was sent off into the darkness.


    Then a familiar face crossed his gaze from the other side of the fire. Caught in the same daze as everyone else, slowly rocking back and forth as he moved closer still to the fire, was Navarre.


    The older man was caught in the same daze as the others, though his eyes were half-closed and his coat had been torn to ribbons, flashing his shirt and his chest beneath. Then, as Asher watched, one of the monsters knocked into him, pushing his direction towards the fire.


    Asher cried out, and in that moment all his focus evaporated. His injury was scraping against bone, but he forced his feet into motion as Navarre reached the flame. He wasn¡¯t going to make it. Navarre raised his foot into the flames, and Asher charged.


    Leaping across the fire, he caught the Captain around the middle and sent them both skidding across the ground in a mess of tangled limbs. A blinding pain sent black spots across his vision as his injury came back in full focus, throbbing, angry and agonising. Asher gritted his teeth, ignoring the tears that prickled his eyes as he patted Navarre down, checking for any fire or burns, but there were none. Navarre was still in a daze. Not bothering to be gentle, Asher grabbed his shoulders and shook them as hard as he could.


    ¡®Wake up!¡¯ he cried. ¡®Navarre! Wake up!¡¯


    Navarre moaned, and his eyes fluttered. ¡®Asher?¡¯ His voice was weak.


    ¡®Wake up!¡¯


    ¡®I¡­ what¡­ what happened?¡¯


    Asher continued to shake him, panic forcing him to rattle the man by the collar until he was sure Navarre was okay, until his breathing calmed and the pain stopped. It wasn¡¯t until Navarre moaned for him to stop did he realise the music had stopped as well.


    All of the monsters had paused their dance, and were watching Asher with blank eyes. The only sound now was his own laboured breathing as creatures with one, two, four, seven, hundreds of eyes all stared at him. Some had no eyes at all, but he could still feel their gaze, empty and unreadable. He swallowed hard.


    ¡®You are trying to take our prize,¡¯ one of the creatures hissed. This one stood on two legs like a human, had the torso of a human, but long, insect like legs broke out of a shell on its back and curled around the front, the little feelers rubbing together. Massive, round eyes like a fly filled the shape of its head.


    The teeth monster stepped out of the crowd then, and Asher could feel it staring at him. ¡®This one is special.¡¯


    The creature stepped forward, and Asher remembered the sword in his fist. He leapt up and and pointed it at the creature, who only paused and tilted its head.


    ¡®Stay away from him!¡¯ Asher cried. ¡®Stay back!¡¯


    The old-man creature only laughed. ¡®If you expected to win, you should not have bought the Jaliti.¡¯


    Behind him, Penn growled, the sound beast-like and angry.


    ¡®I¡¯ve grown tired of the Warden, and the little soldier,¡¯ the teeth creature said. ¡®Kill them both.¡¯


    The dancer girl with the skeletal arms under loose skin pranced over to him, and Asher screamed - in panic or frustration, he didn¡¯t know - and swung the sword wide. It connected with the bony arms, and they shattered into pieces. The monster screeched at him, but Asher couldn¡¯t blink before another was on him - the bug creature with all six arms raised in attack. Asher swiped at it, and the sword bounced off the shell along the creatures back. He dodged as one of the feelers clawed at the air near his chest, then jammed the sword into its eye. Black, tar like blood burst from its skull as it shrieked in anger.


    A disembodied arm flew at his face, and he ducked. It landed on the ground at his feet, then lashed out and grabbed his ankle, so tight the bone clicked. Asher cried out and slashed at the limb. A large section came free, though the grip didn¡¯t loosen. Instead it grew tighter, squeezing, breaking through the skin and threatening to crush the bone. Asher beat at it, then slashed at another monster that pounced at him, unable to turn around and beat at the limb before another creature charged.


    One by one, the monsters came at him, and it was all Asher could do to slash blindly, hacking and swinging wildly, forgetting any reason, shaking and shoving and thrashing wildly.


    The limb around his ankle squeezed tighter, and a dull, impossible pain shot through his leg as something snapped and his weight crumbled. Asher cried out as he landed hard in the dirt, discarding the sword and throwing his hands over his head as even more monsters charged forward.


    The limb finally released as Penn drove the sword into the fingers and ripped it free. With a shout, he swung wide and the stones around Asher¡¯s knees burst into large, sharp spikes that caught the creatures around him and flung them back. Asher struggled to his feet, only for a horrible pain to send him falling back down. He grabbed his ankle, then cried out as another wave of pain shot through his leg. The bone was broken.


    ¡®Where¡¯s Navarre?¡¯ Asher demanded.


    ¡®I found the exit,¡¯ Penn said. ¡®You have to go now.¡¯


    ¡®Where¡¯s Navarre?¡¯


    Penn didn¡¯t answer. Instead, he grabbed Asher¡¯s arm and wrapped it around his shoulders, lifting him to his feet. Asher hissed in pain, pushing back against Penn¡¯s hold, but he couldn¡¯t move his leg and his side was screaming in agony. He scanned the area, desperate, sure he was going to be completely mad when this was over, or he would be dead. Despite that, he wasn¡¯t about to leave Navarre - or anyone else - here.


    He saw Navarre. The older man was lying on the ground by the fire, struggling to get up. Asher pulled towards him, and his leg gave out again, sending both him and Penn to the ground. The dirt around them exploded around them in another wave of harsh spikes that jabbed at the monsters, driving them back, but the creatures had lost interest in them. Instead they each turned and followed the monster with Navarre into the shadows. Penn¡¯s eyes still glowed, but there were heavy bruises under them now, and blood cased his nose.


    ¡®I can¡¯t hold them off.¡¯ Penn strained to lift Asher back up, and Asher saw Navarre move too, being picked up by one of the monsters in a strange echo of Penn¡¯s movements. Asher cried out, but both men were struggling now, and he could only watch as Navarre was carried into the shadows. Penn, still trying to lift him, fell against Asher¡¯s back in dead weight, and both of them hit the ground again.


    Asher clawed at the ground, reaching for Navarre with all of his strength, but unable to move, unable to do anything except watch as his captain, his friend, disappeared into the darkness.


    Navarre was gone.


    Penn pulled himself up, and Asher strained against his injuries, clawing across the ground towards where Navarre had disappeared, but his strength was failing. His chest burned and squeezed at his lungs. His entire body screamed at the movement, his leg nothing but a dead weight. He couldn¡¯t give up yet though. He couldn¡¯t leave Navarre here.


    A large black crow landed on the ground in front of him, its throat bobbing up and down as it gave a quiet trill. Another joined it, moments before a large shadow passed over him.


    It was a woman who stood in front of him. She was tall, with shoulder-length ginger hair and strikingly blue eyes. Her dress was in tatters, revealing a line of star-shaped scars along her collar. Her hair covered most of her square face, but the single eye that remained visible was fixed on him.


    ¡®You need to leave.¡¯ The woman said. Another crow landed on her shoulder, cawing loud and angry. ¡®They will gain interest in you again soon.¡¯


    Asher couldn¡¯t stand even if he wanted to. He couldn¡¯t feel his leg at all anymore, and Penn was dead weight next to him. Even as he tried to move, it took all his effort just to grab hold of her skirt, and the stranger made no attempt to pull away. ¡®Please,¡¯ the word escaped in a rasp. ¡®My friend. They took my friend.¡¯


    ¡®You cannot stay,¡¯ the woman said. ¡®The door is about to close. You are dying, and you will die if you stay.¡¯


    The woman took a step back, and Asher struggled once more to stand, but he had no strength left. She raised one of her arms out straight, and a loud caw sounded as yet another crow came down and landed on her hand. The stranger clicked her tongue, and all of the birds rushed into the air, soon joined with more and more, until a massive swarm of them filled the sky. Asher screamed, but he couldn¡¯t get up, couldn¡¯t move, couldn¡¯t do anything as the massive cloud descended down on him.


    They tore at his clothes and slapped at his entire body with claws and feathers, blinding him, their weight smashing into him over and over as their screeching filled his ears. All Asher could do was throw his arms over his head, but the feathers and the beaks and claws still managed to find his face, ripping at his hair and slashing at his sleeves.


    Without any warning, they flew away, bursting into the sky with their screeches echoing out across the growing distance. Asher didn¡¯t want to question why; he could still taste blood and feathers in his mouth, and he felt heavy and cold and horrible. He managed to lift his head enough to see the breaking mauve light of dawn, before it darkened and disappeared into the black once more.

 Chapter 4 - Delirium

    Navarre called out from somewhere distant. Asher opened his eyes to find himself back in Dalvany Manor, still full of people and all of them staring at him. He saw no sign of the strange woman or the birds, no sign of Penn or any of the monsters. There was a black feather stuck to his shirt, but when he grabbed it, his fingers phased right through it and it vanished. He wore a suit he didn¡¯t recognise, made of a fabric that felt stuffy and static. Beyond the crowd, somewhere at the other end of the manor, Navarre called for help.


    Asher pushed forward, ignoring how dozens of pairs of eyes that bore into him as he forced his way through the crowd. There was no conversation, no clinking of glass or so much as a shift in fabric. Only his footsteps echoed across the polished floor. Everyone was staring, though the usual whispers behind hands and looks shared behind backs was missing. The collar of his shirt was pulling too tight at his neck, and he lifted his hand to pull it free when a hand caught his wrist and pulled him to a stop. It was an older man who had grabbed him, a face he didn¡¯t recognise. The man shook his head and forced Asher¡¯s hand back down to his side. Others in the crowd parted, signalling for him to keep walking. Asher hesitated, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. Slowly, glancing around for some kind of sign of what was happening, he continued on.


    The suit grew tight around his chest, and Asher made to adjust the buttons, but as soon as he lifted his hand, an excruciating pain enveloped it, the bones of his wrist igniting as hot coals pressed in where the man had grabbed him. He cried out as the muscles seized, but the more he moved the worse it got, until he gritted his teeth and forced his hand back to his side. The pain eased. He rubbed at the still twinging skin with his other arm, and a woman rushed forward and took his other hand in both of hers, pushing it down to the side. He smacked her grip back before she could let go, but the pain returned, just as intense as before, sharp enough to make him stagger.


    At this, several hands grabbed at his coat and his arms and his neck, forcing him into an upright position, straightening his back and squaring out his shoulders, keeping him in an upright, official position. As soon as they let go, he almost dropped again, but as he caught himself, his entire body exploded in a new wave of pain, and no matter how much he pushed against it, or how much he tried to straighten again, hot wires wrapped tight around muscle and seared through to the bone. Asher screamed, writhing and silently begging for someone to help. In the distance, Navarre screamed with him. The onlookers only watched with wide, pointed smiles spreading across their faces.


    Asher woke. His body still burned and his skin was tight, his breathing escaping in a gasp. His vision blurred, and he saw only the dark wooden beams holding up the roof above. The strong scent of herbs burned his nose, and shadows shifted around on the edge of his peripherals. Exhaustion pulled him back under quickly.


    When he woke again, beams of golden light drifted across those same foundations, and he found the strength to take in the rest of the room. It was small and cosy, with aged, peeling wallpaper and not much room for anything other than the bed he lay on and a small table beside it. The bed itself had wrapped him tight in thick duvets and quilts, his body sinking down into a padded mattress.


    A woman sat on a small stool in front of the little table, crushing herbs with a mortar and pestle. Asher didn¡¯t recognise her. She was older, her face smooth except for lines of concentration burrowed into her forehead. Deft, arthritic fingers worked the tools, and short, dark hair fell to her shoulders. There was a wide, innocent aspect to each of her features, her eyebrows arched, her dark eyes round and large, and her thin lips twisted wide as she bit down on her lip.


    ¡®You¡¯re awake again,¡¯ she commented.


    Asher tried to speak, but no sound came out. Fog clouded his brain. He tried to connect this place, this woman, to where he had been before.


    ¡®You¡¯re fever is still running high, so don¡¯t try and talk,¡¯ the woman said. ¡®Though when you¡¯re better, you need to tell me where you came from.¡¯


    The underlands. The prison for the worst, most unforgivable monsters imaginable, like in the stories he heard as a kid. The eternal prison where souls of the most evil and depraved were locked away. He didn¡¯t know how he got there, or how he got out, but any memory that could tell him anything else was slipping away. The whole thing was a delirious nightmare sinking deep into the forgotten parts of his mind.


    He closed his eyes, trying to pull something to the forefront of his mind. When he opened them again, the sky outside was dark, and the woman was gone.


    Time became a blur. He woke and drifted off, woke and drifted off. Sometimes the woman returned. She fed hot, bitter soup to him, and spoke to him, but everything she said fell out of his head as soon as he fell asleep again. Sometimes pain wracked through his body, his skin and muscles screaming at him, and sometimes it was only a dull throb. The nightmares were constant. He saw the old man with too many teeth and the fly-man, he saw people in a crowd that looked normal until their skin fell off. Navarre was always calling out.


    Navarre was gone.


    The thought was a punch to the gut, more painful than any of his injuries. His oldest friend, who had all but held his hand through the meeting with Lord Barque and his aunt. He was gone. Probably dead. If he wasn¡¯t, he would be soon enough. Those monsters had taken him. He wasn¡¯t coming back.


    A strange voice pulled him out of his daze, moreso than anything else had, and Asher took a moment to ground himself. He clenched his fingers against the sheets, and though they were numb, they moved. His eyes were dry, but blinking a few times fixed that. He couldn¡¯t feel his legs.


    ¡®...I need to tell the others he¡¯s here.¡¯ The male¡¯s voice was familiar, though Asher couldn¡¯t figure out where he had heard it before. ¡®You need to be careful, alright?¡¯


    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    ¡®They can come and visit as much as they like.¡¯ The woman. The one who had been sitting beside his bed. ¡®I¡¯m not going to hold him hostage.¡¯


    ¡®Any questions about his leg, and I am not going to cover for you,¡¯ the man said. ¡®Do you understand?¡¯


    ¡®You¡¯re the one who splintered it.¡¯


    ¡®Yes, and that¡¯s all I can do,¡¯ the man said. ¡®You¡¯re on your own, Gershwin.¡¯


    ¡®I wasn¡¯t expecting anything else,¡¯ the woman - Gershwin - said. ¡®Though I imagine you still want the herbs?¡¯


    The man sighed. ¡®The herbs I can explain. The herbs look like any other mix from an apothecary. But if people start coming out here, you need to watch yourself. Everyone is scared, and they¡¯re on short fuses.¡¯


    ¡®You think I¡¯m not scared?¡¯ Gershwin asked. ¡®I appreciate your concern, doctor, I really do, but I¡¯m only trying to help. I wasn¡¯t about to leave him out there.¡¯


    ¡®I know.¡¯ The man sighed. ¡®Send for me if anything changes. Right now he needs a lot of rest and time to recover.¡¯


    Footsteps receded into the distance, the echo of leather against wood ringing out, followed by the click of a door. Asher forced his eyes to open, the effort pulling at strength he didn¡¯t have. Once again, the woman was sitting at his bedside, crushing herbs in her little bowl.


    ¡®Where am I?¡¯ Asher¡¯s voice escaped in a croak.


    Gershwin jumped violently, pressing a hand into her heart. ¡®Oh my. I didn¡¯t realise you were awake.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯m sorry,¡¯ Asher said. He tried to pull himself into a sitting position, but his arms only shook at the effort.


    Gershwin placed a gentle hand on his chest. ¡®Don¡¯t try and get up. You nearly died. You need to rest.¡¯


    ¡®I...¡¯ Everything was coming to him in a haze. He didn¡¯t know what was a fever-induced nightmare and what was real. The only thing that seemed constant across both was the fear. Fear that still buzzed under his skin and tugged at his anxiety.


    ¡®Let¡¯s see if I can answer all the usual ones.¡¯ Gershwin placed her tools down, then crossed her hands in her lap. ¡®My name is Gershwin Golharie. You¡¯re in my home on Golharie farms. We found you out in our rice field, and we thought you were dead. The doctor came along and told me you were Lieutenant Wulverman, from Ralkauda, and you¡¯ve been missing for a week. We didn¡¯t know that of course, but the doctor said it¡¯s best not to move you, so you¡¯ll stay here.¡¯


    ¡®A week?¡¯ Asher echoed. ¡®It¡¯s been a whole week?¡¯


    ¡®Well, four of those days were here,¡¯ Gershwin said. She shifted, her fingers knotting together. ¡®Do you know how you got out there? Or what happened to you?¡¯


    Asher shook his head. The motion made his chest ache. If he told her the truth of it, she would think he was mad. He probably had gone mad. That was the only explanation for any of it.


    ¡®It doesn¡¯t surprise me at all,¡¯ Gershwin said. ¡®But most of the fever has passed, and you had some real nasty scratches on your chest that have cleared of infection, so I¡¯d say things are looking up.¡¯


    Asher glanced down, noting his bare chest wrapped tight in a white gauze. The memory of the bear monster slashing him open flashed through his head, and he shivered. When he poked at the bandages, the skin only twanged in response. He¡¯d taken another injury as well, he remembered the pain.


    He couldn¡¯t feel his legs.


    Easing his hands downward, he ignored Gershwin¡¯s noise of protest as he pulled the covers back. A cry of alarm escaped him.


    Below the knee of his left leg was a mess. His skin was covered in purple and red blotches, and the limb was swollen, the joint of the ankle invisible beneath stretched bruises. A wooden splint was strapped to either side of his leg, taped in place to force the limb straight. Looking at it made the bones ache in a way he¡¯d never felt before, constant and horrible and grinding. He leaned down to prod at the knee, and the skin burned. He tried to wriggle his toes, but they didn¡¯t budge.


    ¡®It¡¯s healing,¡¯ Gershwin said. ¡®It¡¯s a little agitated because the doctor just adjusted the splints, but it¡¯s better than it was. He managed to put the bone back together.¡¯


    Asher didn¡¯t say anything. The words had already fallen out of his head. All he saw was a mangled, bruised blotch where his leg used to be. The sound of it breaking echoed through his head. Men who broke their bones in the city were turned away from the Watch. They walked with limbs and slings, and limped in the cold.


    He wouldn¡¯t be walking on it for a long time. He wouldn¡¯t be able to work for a long time.


    ¡®Asher.¡¯ Gershwin twisted her fingers together again. ¡®I know you¡¯re scared, and you¡¯re in a lot of pain, but I promise I¡¯m doing what I can. It will heal. You just need rest and time.¡¯


    ¡®I know you are,¡¯ Asher mumbled. ¡®I appreciate all you¡¯ve done. Really. Thank you.¡¯


    Colour flushed through Gershwin¡¯s cheeks. She paused, then met his gaze. ¡®You¡¯re sure you don¡¯t remember anything?¡¯


    Asher shifted. He wondered if maybe Gershwin knew more about what happened to him than he originally thought. Though, he didn¡¯t even believe in monsters. They were just stories. The Underlands were fables, they were myths. He couldn¡¯t even know now if he was alone in this assumption, and everyone who told him those stories told them as truth, or if he was now completely alone in knowing they were real.


    He didn¡¯t know which parts were real.


    ¡®No,¡¯ Asher muttered. ¡®I don¡¯t know what happened. I don¡¯t understand.¡¯


    ¡®The fever gave you a pretty rough sleep,¡¯ Gershwin said. ¡®Nightmares?¡¯


    Asher nodded.


    ¡®You can tell me about those, if you like,¡¯ Gershwin said. ¡®It might feel better, to put it out in the open?¡¯


    Asher shifted again. He would say the same thing to people who were frantic or in hysterics. One step at a time. Break it down, go over it piece by piece. That was all he was now. Another victim of everything that happened, rather than the one putting it together.


    ¡®I... remember being scared,¡¯ Asher admitted. ¡®And fire, and...¡¯ Navarre. Navarre was gone, dragged into the darkness by those monsters. That felt real. It felt hollow and empty and stabbed deep into his gut. ¡®My friend was there. I think he¡¯s... I think he¡¯s gone.¡¯


    Gershwin¡¯s face fell, and he saw sadness behind her eyes, a true hurt from something he couldn¡¯t know. ¡®I¡¯m so sorry,¡¯ she mumbled.


    The words felt like a punch to the gut.


    ¡®I¡¯ll leave you to get some rest.¡¯ Gershwin rose to her feet. She leaned over and pulled the sheets back over his body, hiding his leg from view. ¡®The doctor will tell people in Dalvany you¡¯re here, so you might have a few guests. Try and get some sleep, okay?¡¯


    She gave a small bow of the head, then made for the door. Asher felt a pang of guilt at his own uselessness. This woman owed him nothing, and she was doing everything to help him, and there was nothing he could do to repay that. He didn¡¯t even know where to begin if he could move his limbs.


    Perhaps honesty was the next best thing.


    ¡®There¡¯s something else.¡¯ The words burst out before he could stop them. Gershwin stopped in the doorway. ¡®I don¡¯t know how I got here, but I remember birds.¡¯


    Gershwin noticeably flinched. ¡®Birds?¡¯


    ¡®A lot of birds,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®Crows or ravens or... something. That¡¯s all I remember.¡¯


    Gershwin was still for a long moment, her knuckles white against the doorframe. Something shifted in the shadows behind her eyes. Surprise or hurt or... eagerness? It disappeared before he could see it properly.


    ¡®Try and get some sleep,¡¯ Gershwin said. ¡®Nothing will hurt you here.¡¯

 Chapter 5 - The Golharie Women

    Asher woke again to an empty room, and he found himself alone with his thoughts for the first time. The more he tried to separate nightmare from real, the more solid each memory became. It was all real. It wouldn¡¯t fade, it only got stronger each time he focused on it. Monsters were real. Magic was real. And it almost killed him.


    What else about those old folktales were real. Perhaps the First King of Tarinye was a great Warlock. They called him that all through history, did they know he was magic and accept it, or was it just part of the myth? There was so much to dissect and figure out, but the more he tried to understand it, the more he instinctively pulled away. His life was a lie. No, not a lie, but a world wrapped in a comforting blanket that had been brutally ripped free. Everything had been a fantasy, a safe little bubble where stories were just that.


    Asher was going to be sick.


    He didn¡¯t believe in monsters. He didn¡¯t believe stories of the Underlands were real. If these opinions were so wrong, someone would have corrected him by now, told him to open his eyes or stop being an idiot. When he showed disdain towards hanging, they would have pushed the real damage those people could do, choosing the side of those demons. If they didn¡¯t know that to be true, then why in the world would they be hung at all?


    Then there was what Gershwin said. Nothing will hurt you here. As though she knew there were monsters, and that he had come here because of magic. Perhaps he was the na?ve, stupid little boy who refused to see things how they were. A glass of water had been left on the side table, and Asher swallowed large mouthfuls, but it did nothing to ease the bad taste in his mouth.


    If he really had refused to see that it was all real, if he had refused to believe it was possible, then how would he hope to find out what happened to the Palace? Could he have recognised the signs and stopped himself from becoming the next victim? Maybe he would have been prepared enough to stop them from taking Navarre...


    No. The market had been chaos. No-one knew what was happening. Would the distressed mother have considered monsters? The woman talking over the boy had dismissed his claims, but so had Asher. Navarre had made light-hearted jabs, but had that been to loosen Asher up after their fight, or had he considered monsters as much as Asher did?


    His throat was dry. It was hard to breathe. He needed more water, but the glass was empty. He watched the droplets swish back and forth at the bottom of the glass, as though staring at it would make it refill all on its own.


    Something caught the edge of his vision, and he noticed that grains of dirt had built up on his hand, scratching against the bottom of the glass. Asher pinched the pieces between his fingers. There wasn¡¯t any sign of where it might have come from - the room was spotless and pristine - and a worrying amount had collected under his fingernails. It didn¡¯t look like dirt either, there was a grey quality to it, like ash, but not flaky enough. He slowly reached over to place the glass back on the table.


    There was smoke rising from the table.


    Asher recoiled, the glass dropping from his hand too early and bouncing onto the floor. There was no heat, no flame, but the smoke was thick and white. It didn¡¯t rise up either, but instead curved in a sharp turn and snaked over to the mortar and pestle Gershwin had left behind. He reached over to tap at the little iron bowl, but nothing about it seemed off. The herbs sat half-crushed, abandoned. Small white flecks broke through the green, a herb that hadn¡¯t mixed well at all.


    No, not a herb. Asher reached over and caught a piece between his fingers. His skin brushed against the strange smoke, and a cool rush of air touched his hand, as though a breeze had broken through a crack in a solid wall. The sensation sent a rush of goosebumps up his arm, and he snatched his hand back quick.


    The white substance was bone. No matter how much he turned it over and tapped his nails against it, he couldn¡¯t find a way to second guess the conclusion. There was bone in the concoction Gershwin had been mixing, the stuff she had been putting on his leg and chest.


    The door to the room opened, and a strange woman rushed in, only to recoil in alarm when she met his gaze. She was smaller than Gershwin, plump and broad in the shoulders, with lines marking the mouth and eyes of her dark face. Large, wide eyes stared at him, dark almost towards black. Long black hair fell in ringlets over her shoulders, and as she stared frozen, she shifted, as though to run in the other direction.


    ¡®I heard a noise.¡¯ Her voice was soft, carried only by the air around them. ¡®Are you alright?¡¯


    ¡®What is this?¡¯ Asher demanded. ¡®What have you been doing to me?¡¯


    The woman¡¯s face turned grey, and she bounced on her heels before easing forward and picking the glass up from the floor. ¡®My name is Aria,¡¯ she said.


    ¡®Asher,¡¯ Asher returned. He held the bone up, making sure she looked directly at it, that she saw it. ¡®What is this?¡¯


    Aria shifted next to him. ¡®Rat bones,¡¯ she mumbled.


    ¡®Should I be worried?¡¯ Asher asked.


    Aria shook her head frantically. ¡®We use it to scrape the dead skin off an injury,¡¯ she said. ¡®We find that it doesn¡¯t break the skin underneath as we let the herbs sink in.¡¯


    ¡®Oh.¡¯ Asher slowly dropped his hand down, feeling stupid. He¡¯d never heard of a technique like that, but he also didn¡¯t know enough about medicine to confirm it.


    ¡®Is something the matter?¡¯ Aria asked. ¡®You¡¯re shaking.¡¯


    He was. His hands were shaking, the piece of bone still sitting in his palm. Another strange smear of dirt had marked the back of his hand, the exact point where he had touched the strange smoke. He rubbed at it with his thumb, and it disappeared.


    Nothing made sense anymore.


    ¡®Do you know what happened to me?¡¯ Asher asked. ¡®I... I don¡¯t know what happened. I don¡¯t know what¡¯s happening.¡¯


    Aria¡¯s face fell, sympathy painting her features. ¡®You¡¯ve been in this room for nearly a week,¡¯ she said. ¡®Maybe we should get you some fresh air.¡¯


    ¡®I...¡¯ He tried to move his leg, and it only ached deeply in return. ¡®I¡¯m supposed to rest, aren¡¯t I?¡¯


    ¡®We¡¯re only going into the next room,¡¯ Aria said. ¡®Come on, I¡¯ll help you. You¡¯re not going to feel better if you stay in bed all the time.¡¯


    She hooked his arm over her shoulder, then lifted him with a surprising amount of strength. The skin of his chest stretched and burned, and his leg screamed, a dull pain thrumming through the joints as she dragged him out of the bed. He stumbled as his good leg hit the ground, but Aria held him up, half guiding and half carrying him towards the door.


    The house opened up into an airy, sunlit kitchen. The smell of herbs and dirt hit him hard, made noticeable by the potted plants on the crooked little table and on counter corners, and the bowls and crates spread about full of vegetables. Gershwin stood at a sink full of soapy water, looking out the window that sat above the tap, showing a bright sky outside.


    ¡®How are you feeling?¡¯ she didn¡¯t turn as she said it.


    ¡®I think he¡¯s a bit boxed in that room,¡¯ Aria said. She pulled out a chair at the table, and Asher dropped into it, lifting his leg as Aria directed it to another across from him. As she pottered around him, he became very aware of the fact he had no shirt on, only the bandages wrapped around his injury. Aria ducked into the next room, and as Asher turned back to Gershwin, he saw it again. The strange smoke drifting out from a potted plant in the corner. The plant itself was stranger. The petals of what looked like a tulip had veins of blue and gold streaking through otherwise red petals. with the centre part glowing with a soft gold light, a light that pulsed out over the leaves, parts of it leaking down into the pot like water.


    ¡®How are the nightmares?¡¯ Gershwin asked.


    ¡®Better,¡¯ Asher mumbled. He couldn¡¯t tear his eyes away from the plant. The pulses of the light in its middle had a hypnotic edge to it, luring him in as though he were a moth being pulled in by a flickering torch. His mind flashed to the strange fire in the Underlands, how he hadn¡¯t even realised what he was doing until Penn pulled him back, and he shut his eyes tight, trying to block it out.


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    ¡®You alright, sweetie?¡¯


    When Asher opened his eyes again, he saw that Gershwin had turned, and was staring at him, brows knotted in concern. Asher realised he had dug his fingers into the wood of the table, hard enough to leave little half-moon cracks in the surface. The plant still pulsed in the corner. The liquified parts hurt to look directly at.


    Gershwin caught his gaze and turned towards the plant in the corner. Her eyes passed over it, searching for what stood out against the daub walls. She frowned. ¡®What are you looking at?¡¯ she asked.


    Asher flexed his fingers loose and ran them through his hair. ¡®I think I¡¯m going mad,¡¯ he mumbled.


    Gershwin wiped her hands on her apron, then dropped into the remaining seat across from him. Her gaze locked onto him, unblinking. ¡®Asher, do you see something in that corner that isn¡¯t normal?¡¯


    ¡®I¡­ guess? But if no-one else can, then it¡¯s just more of the¡ª¡¯


    ¡®Aria!¡¯


    Gershwin¡¯s shout sent the other woman crashing back into the room. A ratty old coat was gripped tight in her hands. She slowly passed it to Asher, her eyes wide. Asher took the clothing with a mumbled thanks, slowly pulling it on. It smelled of dirt and must and animal, but it was warm and covered his otherwise bare chest.


    ¡®What¡¯s going on?¡¯ Asher glanced back and forth between the two of them, and they exchanged a nervous glance. ¡®If you know what happened to me, please tell me. I don¡¯t understand any¡­¡¯ Wait. If this was a world where magic was real and monsters were real, then so was everything else. The weird pneumonia, the nervous expression on both their faces¡­ ¡®Are you two witches?¡¯


    Both women noticably flinched, and Gershwin leapt over the table, taking hold of his hand.


    ¡®Listen to me, sweetie, and listen close, okay?¡¯


    Asher pulled his hand free, but he couldn¡¯t do anything else to pull away. With his leg completely useless, he wouldn¡¯t get far anyway.


    ¡®It¡¯s not what you think!¡¯ Aria rushed around the table. Her face had stripped of colour, and her eyes were wide, almost on the verge of tears.


    ¡®That word means something very different to us,¡¯ Gershwin pressed. ¡®We¡¯re not going to hurt you. We don¡¯t want to hurt anyone.¡¯


    ¡®Please, don¡¯t freak out.¡¯ Aria¡¯s voice was small. She was shaking. Terrified. Of him.


    ¡®I¡­ I¡¯m not going to tell anyone,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®I won¡¯t tell anyone. I never thought it was okay to¡­¡¯ he pinched the bridge of his nose. What was he doing? ¡®Witches aren¡¯t real. I know they¡¯re not real. None of it was real!¡¯


    ¡®I know this is a lot to take in,¡¯ Gershwin said. She spoke slow, as though he was going to snap at any moment. ¡®I know they¡¯re just stories to a lot of people, that millions of people over generations have lived their lives not knowing this stuff really exists. Those stories, they¡¯re not entirely true. Witches are real, yes, but they don¡¯t work with the Fienta. They never have.¡¯


    ¡®We¡¯re just people,¡¯ Aria mumbled. ¡®People who know things we shouldn¡¯t.¡¯


    ¡®The bones in the medicine¡­¡¯


    ¡®Your leg was beyond saving, Asher,¡¯ Gershwin pressed. ¡®Bone is part of the concoction so magic knows what to regenerate. We would have needed to amputate otherwise. I was just trying to help.¡¯


    So magic knows. As though it was a living thing. As though it was a dog let off its leash and told to hunt under his skin. The bones in his leg ached at the thought. He suddenly felt exposed, stripped bare for the universe itself to inspect him.


    ¡®It was all real.¡¯ His voice was a whisper. Somewhere in his mind he¡¯d already accepted that, but saying it out loud only made him feel small. He was admitting that he was in a new place where he knew nothing, and his usual methods of understanding it weren¡¯t an option anymore.


    ¡®I¡¯m sorry, Asher,¡¯ Gershwin said. ¡®I know it¡¯s a lot to take in.¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t understand,¡¯ Asher mumbled. ¡®Any of it.¡¯


    ¡®We can answer your questions,¡¯ Gershwin said. ¡®Any of them. We can help you.¡¯


    Asher felt a wave of guilt over everything else. ¡®You guys have already done so much. I don¡¯t have any way to repay you.¡¯


    ¡®Keep our secret,¡¯ Aria said. ¡®That¡¯s all we ask, please.¡¯


    ¡®Of course.¡¯


    Aria sighed in relief, though Asher could hear the words he didn¡¯t say rattling in his head. If he were to speak up, if he were to point fingers and ready a noose, he would hang next to them. He was involved now, and mobs hung people for less.


    ¡®There¡¯s something you need to know first,¡¯ Aria said. ¡®This stuff is very dangerous. The more you know, the more you ask questions, the worse it¡¯s going to get. I don¡¯t need to tell you, you know what these creatures are capable of. There are consequences to knowing how the balance is kept.¡¯


    ¡®Aria¡­¡¯ Gershwin caught the other woman¡¯s eye and shook her head.


    Aria¡¯s brow furrowed in confusion. ¡®He needs to know. He can¡¯t look into it without¡ª¡¯


    ¡®He¡¯s seir, love.¡¯


    Aria¡¯s mouth snapped shut, her eyes growing wide. Asher felt as though he had heard that word before, but he couldn¡¯t quite place where. It had the same curl to it as a Telkite word, though he wasn¡¯t fluent in anything except the swearing his mother would throw out when she thought he wasn¡¯t around.


    The air in the room grew heavy, the word hanging between them all like a curse.


    ¡®You¡¯re sure?¡¯ Aria asked.


    Gershwin glanced back at the corner of the bench, where the strange plant was still pulsing silently. Asher ducked his head away before he could be pulled into the same lull as before. One moment of insanity at a time.


    ¡®You can see it, can¡¯t you, Asher?¡¯ Gershwin asked. ¡®You said you could.¡¯


    Both women were staring at him now. Asher wanted to deny it, just so he could claim some of his usual normalcy. Yet, if he did, he wouldn¡¯t be able to figure out why it was happening at all. Slowly, he nodded.


    ¡®What is it?¡¯ his voice was a whisper.


    ¡®It¡¯s a tulip,¡¯ Gershwin said. ¡®I picked it fromt the garden outside because it was blooming.¡¯


    ¡®Tulips don¡¯t look like that,¡¯ Asher said.


    Aria watched the plant in the corner, staring intently at it and its strange colours. When she caught him looking, she hung her head. ¡®I¡¯m so sorry,¡¯ she whispered.


    ¡®You¡¯re seeing spirits, Asher,¡¯ Gershwin said.


    Asher blinked. ¡®What?¡¯


    ¡®You spent time in another world,¡¯ Gershwin said. ¡®The curtains were opened, so to speak. What you¡¯re seeing is the energy that runs between them.¡¯


    ¡®Other worlds,¡¯ Asher echoed. It oddly brought him comfort. If it was another place entirely, it was one where all these impossible things could happen, and that wasn¡¯t here. This world still had the same rules.


    ¡®Le Torkani¡­ I mean, the Underlands, they¡¯re still the same as the stories,¡¯ Aria said. ¡®Oh, that doesn¡¯t mean you broke the natural order or anything, it just¡­ sometimes things slip through the cracks.¡¯


    ¡®And they come out again,¡¯ Asher said.


    The women exchanged a look.


    ¡®No, not usually,¡¯ Gershwin said. ¡®The creatures inside are always trying to break free. It¡¯s not designed to be escaped.¡¯


    The teeth monster had called Penn ¡°gatekeeper.¡± Was he a witch too? Deciding who was supposed to be there and who could go free? That explained a few things. ¡®My friend,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®They took him deeper in.¡¯


    ¡®I know,¡¯ Gershwin said. ¡®I¡¯m sorry, Asher. I know it can¡¯t be easy.¡¯


    ¡®But if I got out, then he could too, right?¡¯


    ¡®We don¡¯t really know how you got out,¡¯ Gershwin said. ¡®Though, you said there were birds.¡¯


    Aria snapped to attention, jolting violently enough to rattle the table. Asher stared at her.


    ¡®You saw her?¡¯ Aria asked.


    ¡®The woman?¡¯ Asher asked. ¡®Red hair, scars along her collar?¡¯


    Both women shifted, and Gershwin sucked in a deep breath. ¡®You did see her.¡¯


    ¡®Who is she?¡¯


    ¡®Her name is Hadley,¡¯ Aria said. ¡®She was¡­ she is a friend of ours. When she was taken into that place, we thought she was dead. Or worse, corrupted into one of those monsters.¡¯


    ¡®She was¡­ I mean, she looked human,¡¯ Asher mumbled.


    Gershwin got to her feet then, pacing across the tiny kitchen. ¡®When we saw the birds, we thought it was her,¡¯ she said. ¡®We thought she had found a way back.¡¯


    ¡®But you found me instead,¡¯ Asher mumbled.


    ¡®This is huge though, the fact that she¡¯s managed to survive all this time,¡¯ Gershwin said. ¡®Did she say anything to you?¡¯


    ¡®I tried to follow Navarre ¨C my friend ¨C and she stopped me,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®She just told me that I couldn¡¯t be there. I don¡¯t think there was anything else.¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t think it¡¯s a coincidence,¡¯ Gershwin said. ¡®She sent you to us. She trusts us.¡¯


    ¡®Gershwin.¡¯ Aria reached out and caught her hand, squeezing it. Silent words passed through their glances, and Gershwin squared her shoulders.


    ¡®She¡¯s alive, and she sent him too us,¡¯ she said. ¡®That has to mean something.¡¯


    ¡®We¡¯re not going down this road again.¡¯


    ¡®She¡¯s alive.¡¯


    ¡®And she¡¯s still in that place,¡¯ Aria pressed. She lowered her voice so low, Asher almost didn¡¯t hear it. ¡®Don¡¯t do this now, please. He¡¯s scared. He still needs help.¡¯


    Asher didn¡¯t say anything. He could see the desperation in Gershwin, the hurt, and he remembered the way she reacted when he first mentioned the birds. The same emotions threatened to storm to the surface in his own mind at the thought of Navarre. His oldest friend was trapped in that place, and he didn¡¯t have a single idea how to fix that. He didn¡¯t know if it could be fixed. Perhaps he would end up like Gershwin, desperate for even a mention that he was still alive, or still had a chance to break out.


    If he was still alive¡­


    No. He would not go down this road. If this Hadley woman had survived for however long she¡¯d been there, there was still a chance for Navarre.


    ¡®I want to find a way,¡¯ he said. ¡®To rescue him. If they¡¯re not supposed to be there, there has to be a way, right?¡¯


    Aria shook her head frantically. ¡®I know it must be hard, to miss your friend, but you can¡¯t,¡¯ she said. ¡®The more you know about the balance of all things, the deeper you have to dig into it. It¡¯s the quickest way to damn yourself to that place.¡¯


    ¡®But¡ª¡¯


    ¡®Please, Asher.¡¯ Aria sounded on the edge of tears. ¡®Please, you can¡¯t. If you mess around with this stuff, it¡¯ll only get worse.¡¯


    Asher bit down on his tongue. He would not leave Navarre in a place like that. He wouldn¡¯t wish anyone into a place like that.


    ¡®What she means is¡­¡¯ Gershwin eased forward. ¡®Asher the moment you try and go back there, they will grab you and they will not let go. You will not get another option. This whole situation is¡­ very complicated. We will help you. We can help you, but if you decide to know about this stuff, you can¡¯t un-know it. There¡¯s no turning back. Please tell me you understand that.¡¯


    ¡®What about the spirits?¡¯ Asher asked.


    ¡®They won¡¯t hurt you,¡¯ Aria mumbled. ¡®Sometimes they go away. You just stop noticing them.¡¯


    Asher glanced over at the plant in the corner. The only thing he could be sure of was that he didn¡¯t want it to disappear. Now that he knew about it, he couldn¡¯t think of anything worse than knowing it was there but never being able to see it exactly. He had been let in on a secret that acted like a knife against his eye, and better there than somewhere he couldn¡¯t defend against it.


    There was no going back from this.

 Chapter 6.1 - A Lesson in Spirits

    Spirits, as Asher quickly came to learn, were not ghostly apparitions like the old stories described. Aria explained it as the extra pieces that overflowed when there were holes in the world. Asher pictured it more like layers of strings; strings that made time move forward and trees grow and seasons turn. It was energy and life and death and all those impossible things. It was the world that made this world turn. Apparently, when the unnatural started to take hold, parts of it would bleed through and take the strangest forms. Usually it was invisible, but Asher had seen those forces that couldn¡¯t exist. It was because he understood something that shouldn¡¯t exist in the natural world to be real, that he could also see the parts meant to heal it.


    It was as though a spark had flared to life, one that burned hot and prodding behind his eyes, that wouldn¡¯t let him rest. It wasn¡¯t just the fog; these things were everywhere. When he sat on the porch steps, stringing the weeds out of the stalk harvest, he was joined by small white flowers with petals that pulsed like a heartbeat, their discs made of a spectral flame that danced against the morning sun. When he sorted the eggs into their little wooden slots to be sent out, rings of purple light would flash and dance whenever something touched the table or the floor. At one point, Asher poked at the table to see if they would react differently, and he felt an icy prickle as the lights zapped at his fingers. When he tried to sleep at night, the smoke from the mortar sailed in gentle, hypnotic patterns around the roof.


    Aria had been right; they didn¡¯t hurt him. Now the initial shock had worn off, he found himself drawn into the strange sensations, if only to watch them work. They came with a gentle relief, a reminder that he wasn¡¯t going mad after all. It was no longer a nightmare, or a confusing mess, but something he could see, something he could eventually understand. This was real. He could work with real.


    ¡®So, if the spirits fix the world after the demons wreck it, what is it that witches do?¡¯ he asked Aria. Both of them sat at the kitchen table, placing wax seals on order envelopes. Aria still wouldn¡¯t quite meet his eye, but he understood why. He was hardly about to announce to anyone what he had seen, or was still seeing.


    ¡®The spirits only put the world back after something has been broken,¡¯ Aria said. ¡®And even then¡­ you could put a bandage on a cut, but that same bandage won¡¯t do anything to a chasm.¡¯


    ¡®So witches make sure it doesn¡¯t happen in the first place?¡¯ Asher quizzed. ¡®You mentioned gaps. So, there¡¯s like an opening to this place? Doesn¡¯t that defeat the purpose?¡¯


    ¡®Every prison needs a way to get in.¡¯ Aria glanced up then, and he recoiled at the amused sparkle in her eyes. ¡®You¡¯re very chatty lately.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯m sorry, I can stop,¡¯ Asher mumbled.


    ¡®No, it¡¯s alright,¡¯ Aria said. ¡®I suppose I¡¯m not used to people being so curious. Though, that¡¯s not your fault, sweetie. You¡¯re part of all of this.¡¯ She stacked another pile of papers together neatly, and placed them aside. ¡®The Gate into LeTorkani is the most reinforced part because it can be opened. That¡¯s why there are cracks in the walls.¡¯


    ¡®Does the Gate open by itself?¡¯ Asher could feel the weight behind the word. Gate. She definitely wasn¡¯t talking about the same kind as the one at the end of her garden.


    Aria bit her lip. ¡®It¡¯s¡­ hard to explain. They¡¯re not physical things. It¡¯s not so much a door opening, as a curtain lifting.¡¯


    Asher could only see a giant, dimensional door with all kinds of impossible magic around it. ¡®So, something against the natural order happens, and it pushes the gate open so that impossible thing can fall through?¡¯


    Aria nodded. ¡®In a broad sense, yes.¡¯ She chewed on the edge of her quill feather. ¡®Can I ask you something?¡¯


    ¡®Sure.¡¯


    ¡®What are you going to do with all of this?¡¯


    Asher paused. He was out of his element, he knew that, and the warning both women had given him before still echoed in his head. The more he dug into this, the more dangerous it would be. ¡®I want to understand what happened,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®Especially if I¡¯m a part of it now.¡¯


    ¡®There¡¯s always ways to be more involved,¡¯ Aria mumbled. ¡®It might still fade though. A lot of the time, it¡¯ll just¡­ go away after a few days. Although, I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve met another Seir who fell into another world.¡¯


    ¡®Did you¡ª¡¯


    ¡®Oh, gods no!¡¯ Aria said. ¡®I¡­ might need to save that story for another day.¡¯


    ¡®Does anyone ever come out of that place?¡¯ Asher asked. He bit down on his other question, but the itch in the back of his mind was back. If this sighted thing did eventually wear off, could he go back to his regular life, knowing that things were there that he couldn¡¯t see?


    Aria must have seen something in his expression, because she gave him a soft smile. ¡®Stranger things have happened. I¡¯ve always wanted to believe Hadley was alive, even though it¡¯s been nearly a year.¡¯ She paused. ¡®Did she look okay?¡¯


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    ¡®I think so?¡¯ Asher struggled to remember any details that weren¡¯t blurring in the haze of post-trauma.


    Aria nodded. ¡®I imagine it¡¯s hard to tell in a place like that. I don¡¯t hold that against you.¡¯


    ¡®It¡¯s still hard to remember,¡¯ Asher said.


    ¡®I wouldn¡¯t force it,¡¯ Aria said. ¡®If I might, I think it¡¯s better that you don¡¯t. You know what you need to know, right? It¡¯s dangerous and full of monsters, and it did a lot of damage. I don¡¯t think it¡¯s a good idea to dwell on the details. Even if you want to know what really happened to your friend.¡¯


    Asher flinched. ¡®Did you find it easier not to think about it?¡¯


    Aria paused, and Asher wondered if she was going to answer at all, when her voice came out in a whisper. ¡®Some days are better than others.¡¯


    Asher didn¡¯t say anything more. He was already sure he was wearing on his welcome here, and the last thing he needed was to hurt them. More than that, the pain around this mysterious red-haired woman obviously still cut deep, and it only made him think of Navarre. The mirror of his own grief was a new hurt all on its own. Maybe Aria was right, and he couldn¡¯t dwell on the nightmare parts. Still, he didn¡¯t want to walk away from this. He would tread carefully, but he needed to know. As sorry as he felt for Aria, he couldn¡¯t be sitting in this pity for the next few years.


    This wasn¡¯t just Navarre though. Valenda had housed thousands, and he didn¡¯t know what the damage in Dalvany was, but he couldn¡¯t completely accept that there was nothing he could do to mend the situation. Especially if it was going to keep happening. Besides, other people weren¡¯t going to stop looking, and panic would only lead to mistakes. He couldn¡¯t let this go; it was dangerous either way.


    The afternoon passed quietly, as the crates were marked and seals were stamped, and Asher found the strength to hobble down the porch steps into the garden. Aria had produced a pair of walking sticks to help him, though every step took an effort that wore at all his limbs. By the time he chicken coop, where he gently prodded each of the little creatures back into the hatches, his arms ached and he was huffing for breath. He hadn¡¯t heard anything about the wild animals while he¡¯d been out here, but since the farm animals were locked up at night, he suspected they hadn¡¯t been dealt with yet.


    The women had eight chickens in total, all of them plump and sleek with shining feathers in shades of brown and black. They warbled as they lumbered around his feet, a couple of the more confident of them pecking at his single boot that touched the ground. Asher leaned down to stroke one of their heads, the sleek of their feathers calming and smooth. A rooster came over to nudge his hand, and he stroked the feathers next to its crown. How simple it would be, to be a chicken in a place like this, so majestic with no worries in the world, cared for with enough food to make him explode.


    ¡®I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve seen you smile since you came here.¡¯ Gershwin leaned over the fence, watching him with her own wry smile.


    ¡®I like chickens,¡¯ Asher mumbled.


    ¡®I can see that. It¡¯s no excuse for you to be on that leg.¡¯


    She patted a crate next to the gate, and Asher hobbled over to drop down onto it. He felt a question in the air, so he bit down on his tongue. One of the chickens wandered over with him, and he stroked its head absently.


    ¡®Aria says you¡¯re getting curious,¡¯ Gershwin said.


    Asher flinched. ¡®I know you¡¯re warning me away from it, but I can¡¯t walk away. I need to know what happened to me.¡¯


    ¡®I know,¡¯ Gershwin said. ¡®She gets nervous is all. What happened with Hadley was¡­ well, it¡¯s still quite raw. I think both of us know she always went too far with it. It¡¯s why I don¡¯t¡­¡¯ She knotted her fingers together. ¡®Please be careful, Asher. If you get pulled in there again, it¡¯s going to be even harder to get out.¡¯


    Asher nodded.


    ¡®I know you want to find your friend, sweetie,¡¯ Gershwin said. ¡®I know what it¡¯s like to have someone you care about in there. I really do.¡¯


    The thought of Navarre winded him all over, still hitting as hard as it had the first time. He hoped more days were easier than they were like this. ¡®We were fighting when it all happened,¡¯ he mumbled.


    ¡®Always seems to be the way,¡¯ Gershwin said.


    ¡®I feel like I owe him,¡¯ Asher mumbled. ¡®I want to fix this.¡¯


    ¡®Owe him because of the fight?¡¯


    ¡®Because I left him there.¡¯


    Gershwin frowned. ¡®You would have died. You nearly did die. There was no leaving him there. What could you have done?¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t know,¡¯ Asher admitted. ¡®I don¡¯t know what to do now. It¡¯s not really clear which parts are dangerous to poke at.¡¯


    ¡®If I say all of them, will you agree to walk away if it gets really dangerous?¡¯ Gershwin asked.


    ¡®So there¡¯s no specifics?¡¯ Asher asked. ¡®If that¡¯s the case I¡¯m already in danger. I¡¯m already in the middle of this.¡¯


    ¡®It¡¯s hard to explain,¡¯ Gershwin said. ¡®If you consider every single person and every single thing to be a moving part, nothing is going to move in the same way. So messing around with any of it is not going to have the same result each time. Does that make sense?¡¯


    ¡®I think so.¡¯


    Gershwin sighed. ¡®I can see you¡¯re not going to drop this. Can you at least tell me what you¡¯re planning to do?¡¯


    That, Asher didn¡¯t know either. As much as he was starting to accept that this was his world, he still knew so little about the rules. Sitting here and thinking it over wasn¡¯t doing anything though. He would need to treat this as any other case. Just because he was the victim in this situation, didn¡¯t mean he couldn¡¯t put his experience to use.


    ¡®I want to see where you found me, if that¡¯s alright,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®From there, I will have to touch base with someone in Dalvany to find out what happened there. From that point¡­ I guess I¡¯ll go with what I found.¡¯


    ¡®The usual City Watch investigation?¡¯ Gershwin mused.


    ¡®Something like that.¡¯


    Gershwin bit her lip. ¡®Alright. I¡¯ll take you out there. For the other part¡­ I don¡¯t know. The doctor said he¡¯d let someone know you were here, but I¡¯m surprised no one has shown.¡¯


    Asher wasn¡¯t. If Dalvany was anywhere as bad as Valenda, then it would be chaos in town. As for Evelyn¡­ the woman thought herself above visiting a prestigious boarding school; the mere thought of visiting a farm would give her a heart attack.


    ¡®I¡¯ll get the cart ready,¡¯ Gershwin said. ¡®You didn¡¯t see where Colter went, did you?¡¯


    Asher had no idea who Colter was. ¡®No, sorry,¡¯ he said. ¡®I don¡¯t want to put you out with¡ª¡¯


    ¡®Young man, you are not walking to the other end of my property,¡¯ Gershwin said. ¡®And we don¡¯t let anyone go out past the fence by themselves. Stay here. Play with the chickens. I¡¯ll be back in a moment.¡¯

 Chapter 6.2 - The Ashen Ring

    Colter turned out to be a very excitable collie. As the narrow little cart bounced along the uneven track, he bounced around the tired mare and sniffed at the tracks ahead. The cart itself wasn¡¯t quite wide enough to fit both of them, and since it was only a single seat of wood being pulled along, there wasn¡¯t anywhere else to go.


    The path narrowed out as they passed the rows and rows of vegetables, all green and healthy and neatly parted. The occasional farmhand stopped tilling and fixing nets to wave as they passed, which Gershwin returned. Asher noted that a small handful of them had guns slung over shoulders or sitting next to tools.


    ¡®The wild animals are still bothering people?¡¯ Asher asked.


    Gershwin sighed. ¡®Things are bad right now. I don¡¯t know why the Gate is so¡­ unstable, but the animals are noticing it.¡¯


    ¡®Is there any way to fix it?¡¯ Asher asked.


    ¡®If there is, then I haven¡¯t found it,¡¯ Gershwin said. ¡®Though if you want to know if it¡¯s connected to what happened to you, probably? I couldn¡¯t tell you.¡¯


    Asher didn¡¯t want to dismiss the possibility, but if it meant all of this was connected to one singular thing, a catalyst that could be followed, then he just needed to find the trail. He needed to go back to being a professional.


    Gershwin pulled the mare to a stop at the edge of the property, where rows of tilled farmland was separated from wild, thick pine woods by a single rotted fence. The quiet of the open air pressed down heavier. The sounds of the animals milling around and the farmhands working and chatting were all gone. In their place was the hiss of wind against pine needles, and the small chittering of bugs. Colter rushed ahead, then skidded to a halt. A low growl rumbled from his throat as his tail dropped between his legs. Gershwin whistled, a sharp, commanding sound, and the dog rushed back to them, ducking around her skirt.


    ¡®Just there,¡¯ she said.


    Asher struggled forward, his cane wobbling against the uneven ground, and his legs aching no matter how much weight he put on them. He could feel Gershwin¡¯s gaze burning into the back of his head, waiting for the moment he would hit the wrong dip in the path and collapse.


    The space in question sat just on the inside of the fence, a perfect circle carved through fence and farmland, as large as Asher was tall. Like the ring around Valenda, it was a smooth ring of ash that cut through grass and dirt, but the inside wasn¡¯t fresh grass this time. Instead black, craggy rock filled the inside, pointed tips stacked on top of each other. As Asher drew closer, the rock carried the unmistakable whiff of sulphur.


    Struggling down onto his knees proved a bigger challenge than walking, and each time he attempted to bend his knee without the shooting pain through his bones, he felt ten years add to his lifespan. Gershwin made a noise of protest behind him, but by the time she could get any words out, he was already on the ground.


    He poked at the ash ring with his cane, and like at Valenda, the ground broke away, revealing a thin line of chasm underneath. The smell of sulphur was strong enough to burn his nose, and unmistakable waves of heat pulsed off the rock. If he didn¡¯t know better, he would have thought it was part of a volcano.


    With the idea of slipping between worlds, he didn¡¯t want to dismiss the idea of volcanic rock being transported here, only there were no volcanoes in Tarinye. Nor were there any in Euthria, and the one that made Telkesi already blasted itself into oblivion decades ago. Valenda had been a field originally, though that had been over five hundred years ago when Tarinye was a group of nomadic warriors. Either the transportation ¨C if that was even what it was ¨C was completely random, or these circles of land were coming from one of these other places.


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    Asher frowned. The ring between grass and rock wasn¡¯t ash like he initially thought. It was too thick and gritty to be ash, but too flakey to be dirt. He picked up a small amount, pinching the pieces and grinding them under his nails. It was the same stuff that had been under his nails when he was recovering. The same that stained his skin when he touched the weird smoke.


    ¡®Was all of this here when you found me?¡¯ Asher asked.


    Gershwin nodded. ¡®You were sprawled across the middle of it, all beat up. Is something wrong?¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t know,¡¯ Asher admitted.


    ¡®I can¡¯t see the spirits,¡¯ Gershwin said. ¡®That¡¯s Aria¡¯s thing, so I don¡¯t know what they¡¯re doing.¡¯


    Asher had found a way to ignore how some things looked a little stranger than others, but at the mention of them, the spirits in question snapped into focus, as though they were sitting dormant until called upon. They took the form of a gentle fog, a thin white mist that lapped over the ground like waves. It wouldn¡¯t pass over the circle.


    He considered the grit in his hand, then the clear line through the ground. Heart pounding in his throat, he tossed the specks of strange dust into the circle.


    White flame exploded out at the contact, shooting up into the air and blasting a wave of hot air out that sent Asher staggering back. A sharp pain shot through his tailbone, and before he could blink, Colter was on top of him, driving a wet nose into his face and whining. By the time he pulled his focus to the circle, the flame had already disappeared.


    Colter flopped down across his lap, his weight pushing into Asher¡¯s legs. Asher scratched at the dog¡¯s chest absently. He needed to learn more about these spirits. He needed to see Valenda again now that he could see them. This could be his trail.


    ¡®Everything alright over here?¡¯ One of the farmhands approached, fixing Asher with a steely gaze. A couple other men were standing a little way away, watching.


    ¡®We¡¯re fine,¡¯ Gershwin said. ¡®Colter just made a new friend.¡¯


    The farmhand nodded, then he and Gershwin came forward to pull Asher to his feet. Colter danced around their ankles, nudging each of them with the top of his head. Asher stumbled, feeling shame creep up at being handled so thoroughly. Already he was sick of this leg. The sooner it healed, the better he would be at doing what he was good at.


    When the farmhand wandered off, Gershwin leaned in, her voice low. ¡®I know this is all new, sweetie, but you can¡¯t react to the spirits so obviously. People will know something is up.¡¯


    ¡®You didn¡¯t see that?¡¯ Asher asked.


    Gershwin shook her head. ¡®I just saw you fall.¡¯


    Noted, Asher thought silently. People were arrested for less, hung for less. Even if his leg healed back to its normal strength, this was going to be an uphill battle. Though part of him imagined a scenario where people started pointing fingers for something he didn¡¯t even do. He had been to the Underlands ¨C to Le Torkani, as Aria had called it ¨C and the stories said that people who went there deserved it. He thought about admitting the horrors he had witnessed there and people thinking he had struck some kind of bargain. Or maybe, he would go back to Dalvany and people would assume foul play before he did anything. If the little he knew about witches were false, how easy was it for something so innocent to mean death?


    ¡®One more thing,¡¯ Asher asked. Gershwin shifted as she guided him back to the cart, but didn¡¯t say anything. ¡®How many of the people they hang actually witches?¡¯


    Gershwin swallowed. ¡®I don¡¯t have an answer to that question.¡¯


    A knot twisted in his stomach.


    ¡®If you mean a general sense, like someone who just knows about it like I do, or a Seir like Aria¡­ I don¡¯t know. How do you decide the verdict is witchcraft?¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t know,¡¯ Asher admitted. ¡®I never arrested anyone for witchcraft. Usually I ignored the people who tried to point fingers.¡¯


    ¡®Don¡¯t agree with it?¡¯ Gershwin raised an eyebrow in surprise.


    ¡®Don¡¯t believe in witches,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®Can¡¯t arrest it if it¡¯s not real.¡¯


    Gershwin snorted, a smile breaking through her grim expression. It did little to ease the twisting, sick feeling in his gut. With everything going on, there would probably be more nooses knotted and more fingers pointed. He needed to go back to Dalvany, even if he risked being one of the accused, but it was going to be chaos.

 Chapter 6.3 - The Black Scroll

    As the cart approached the house again, Asher noticed one of Dalvany Manor¡¯s carriages sitting on the other side of the fence-line. The same onion shaped vehicle with its gold lining along the edges and two black stallions was the same he had arrived at Dalvany in what felt like a lifetime ago. With Navarre. The memory of his sly little winks flashed through Asher¡¯s head, and that familiar punch in the gut hit him all over again.


    As he struggled down off the cart, Gershwin rushed through helping him, less gentle than she was before. Asher didn¡¯t blame her anxiety. Aria had been terrified of him, and he could only imagine the stress Evelyn could cause. Yet, as he hobbled up the stairs and into the house, he entered the kitchen and came face to face with Norrah instead.


    She was noticeably more dishevelled than when he had seen her last. Her dress wrinkled and a more drab cotton, with the only finery showing in the fur around the collar of her coat. Even her black hair had an unwashed darkness to it, stray strands sticking out of the bun. Dark shadows clouded her eyes, and she stared at Asher with a blank expression, as though she was staring through him, unaware that he was even there.


    Gershwin rushed over to Aria on the other side of the room, who had huddled in on herself in the corner.


    ¡®When I read about you being here, I wondered if it was a mistake,¡¯ Norrah said. ¡®Though I admit, I perhaps shouldn¡¯t have ignored an urgently marked letter.¡¯


    ¡®I guess you¡¯ve been busy,¡¯ Asher pointed out.


    ¡®That¡¯s an understatement,¡¯ Norrah said. She paused, and a flash of vulnerability appeared for a second, reminding Asher that she was barely past her twenty-sixth year. Younger than she tried to be. ¡®Are you well?¡¯


    Asher motioned to the twin canes holding him up, and the bandaged sock still around his foot. ¡®Considering everything, I¡¯m doing okay.¡¯


    ¡®You¡¯re standing,¡¯ Norrah commented. ¡®Better than I can say for a few others that reappeared.¡¯


    ¡®The doctor said there were a lot in town,¡¯ Asher pointed out.


    Norrah nodded. ¡®Whatever infection is claiming them is only getting worse. I don¡¯t know the full details, I¡¯m not a doctor, but it¡¯s bad.¡¯


    Gershwin made a small noise in the corner, and Norrah turned to the two women, making Aria flinch back. Colour flushed through Gershwin¡¯s face.


    ¡®I¡¯m sorry,¡¯ she said. ¡®I didn¡¯t mean to interrupt. I mean...¡¯


    ¡®This is your house,¡¯ Norrah said. ¡®You can speak freely. I don¡¯t want you to be afraid of me.¡¯


    ¡®Well, it¡¯s a little intimidating to have the Duchess standing in our kitchen,¡¯ Gershwin said. When Norrah didn¡¯t respond, Gershwin cleared her throat. ¡®We treated the injuries as though they were poisoned,¡¯ she said. ¡®It wasn¡¯t showing the usual signs of an infection. I don¡¯t really know what it was, but I was using common antidotes.¡¯


    ¡®That worked?¡¯ Norrah asked. ¡®I¡¯m surprised the doctor didn¡¯t know that.¡¯


    ¡®I um... I used to be an apothecary,¡¯ Gershwin said. ¡®I did tell him what I was doing, but I... oh, I should have written it down. I will write it down actually.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯d appreciate that,¡¯ Norrah said. ¡®Though some were treated with what they have on hand, so I¡¯m not sure how effective it would be.¡¯


    ¡®Different symptoms?¡¯ Asher asked. ¡®That¡¯s odd.¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t know what¡¯s happening,¡¯ Norrah said. ¡®It all looks similar. It looks like it came from the same source, but some can be cured with basic balms, and others with other herbal mixes, and some need constant care. It¡¯s very confusing.¡¯


    Gershwin pulled one of the spare shipping cards from Aria¡¯s pile on the table and began scratching down a list in sharp, fine and curling handwriting.


    ¡®I¡¯m surprised you aren¡¯t in town helping,¡¯ Norrah said. ¡®We could use the extra hands.¡¯


    Gershwin paused mid pen-stroke, and a blob of ink smudged the paper. ¡®I wish I could,¡¯ she mumbled. ¡®But my name is on the Black Scroll.¡¯


    A cold dread ran down the length of Asher¡¯s spine. Aria shifted next to her, and Gershwin stilled for a moment longer, then kept writing. She didn¡¯t meet anyone¡¯s eye, not even when she finished it and passed it over to Norrah. Asher couldn¡¯t see it. The Black Scroll had always been more of an idea or historical footnote more than anything binding. In Ralkauda, there were maybe three names recorded in the last century. They had been a filicide, a four time murderer, and a man who had attempted to assassinate the King.


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    ¡®I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t understand,¡¯ Norrah said.


    ¡®It means she¡¯s been exiled,¡¯ Asher kept his voice low. ¡®If she tries to enter Dalvany town, she¡¯ll be shot on sight.¡¯


    Asher could only come to one conclusion as to why Gershwin would be on a list like that. He¡¯d heard a single case in Fanmaryh that made sense. The town had tried her as a witch. They¡¯d pointed their fingers and she¡¯d been proven innocent, but was made to leave to regain the public trust. A wave of sympathy washed over him, and Gershwin met his gaze as it did. Anger flashed across her features, and was gone as quickly as it appeared.


    ¡®That is archaic.¡¯ Norrah¡¯s voice was a growl. ¡®I¡¯ll work to do something about that. If I¡¯m supposed to be in charge, I will not have people who want to help kept back by something as pathetic as ¡°exile.¡± Do you want to help?¡¯


    ¡®I would if I could,¡¯ Gershwin said, ¡®but--¡¯


    ¡®Do you wish harm on anyone in town?¡¯


    ¡®Of course not!¡¯


    ¡®I think between that and all you¡¯ve done for the Lieutenant, I will have to assess what gave you this status and why it is in place, when you have a judicial system in this kingdom. We need the extra help, so if you can find a way into town, I will make it clear it¡¯s on my orders.¡¯


    ¡®I appreciate that, ma¡¯am.¡¯ Gershwin flinched as Aria grabbed her arm. ¡®But I wouldn¡¯t feel safe. I can make up some balms and poultices here if that would help?¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯ll bring them into town,¡¯ Aria spoke up then. ¡®We have a trade route. We can... I mean, I can bring them into the town as you need them. It¡¯s only a couple of hours either way.¡¯


    Norrah nodded. ¡®I would consider that immensely helpful.¡¯


    Gershwin nodded. She still wouldn¡¯t meet anyone¡¯s eye.


    ¡®I could use you back too, Lieutenant.¡¯ Norrah turned back to him. ¡®If you are well enough to travel.¡¯


    ¡®I want to help too,¡¯ Asher admitted. ¡®Though I don¡¯t know how much of my original job I can still do.¡¯


    Norrah sighed, betraying just how exhausted she was under her usual stoic features. ¡®This won¡¯t be over in a couple of days,¡¯ she said. ¡®So we really could use you.¡¯ She paused. ¡®So many of the others didn¡¯t know what happened. It seems to be a point of delirium. What people do remember differs compared to each victim. I don¡¯t suppose you¡¯ve remembered anything?¡¯


    Asher shook his head. ¡®Delirium is a good word for it.¡¯


    ¡®We did what we could,¡¯ Gershwin said. ¡®But the fever still lasted for days. He was lucky to pull out of it at all.¡¯


    Norrah nodded. ¡®That seems to be the case, though I had to be sure.¡¯ She straightened. ¡®I will give you time to do what you need here. When you are ready, we¡¯ll travel back into town.¡¯ She turned to both of the women and bowed low, her gaze unblinking. ¡®You¡¯ve done a thankless task in the battle against this plague. Thank you for what you have done, and what you will continue to do.¡¯


    Asher stayed silent as she made for the hall, and he bit down on his tongue until the unmistakable sound of the door closing echoed through the house. Aria breathed a heavy sigh of relief.


    ¡®The Duchess,¡¯ her voice squeaked out. ¡®That was the new Duchess in our house. The one who came from Euthria, right?¡¯


    Asher nodded.


    ¡®I... I thought you were a Lieutenant?¡¯


    ¡®I am,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®We¡¯re... um... technically cousins. I think? It¡¯s a long story.¡¯


    Aria shivered.


    ¡®I¡¯m not going to tell anyone,¡¯ Asher pressed. ¡®Not about any of this. I swear. I have just as much risk of being accused as you, so if you don¡¯t believe me, you know that--¡¯


    ¡®She didn¡¯t do anything!¡¯ Aria burst out.


    Asher froze. Gershwin reached over to take her hand, but Aria pulled away.


    ¡®The exile doesn¡¯t mean anything!¡¯ Aria snapped. ¡®She didn¡¯t do anything wrong!¡¯


    ¡®Easy, love,¡¯ Gershwin¡¯s voice was low and calm in comparison. She sighed. ¡®What my ever-loyal wife is trying to say is that I¡¯m not a monster. I mean... it¡¯s not as bad as it sounds.¡¯


    ¡®You were tried for witchcraft, weren¡¯t you?¡¯ Asher asked.


    Gershwin flinched. She then nodded. ¡®You need to be careful, Asher. Please. I don¡¯t want you facing any of that nonsense. Promise?¡¯


    Asher nodded. ¡®I promise.¡¯


    ¡®Good.¡¯ Gershwin flattened down her apron. ¡®Let¡¯s not dwell on it too much, okay? Oh, I hope it hasn¡¯t tarnished your opinion of me.¡¯


    ¡®Not possible,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®I owe you. Both of you. Thank you for everything you¡¯ve done.¡¯


    ¡®You take care of yourself, sweetie,¡¯ Gershwin said.


    ¡®If you can find out why the spirits are so upset, that¡¯s more than enough for us,¡¯ Aria said. ¡®But please try and be careful.¡¯


    Gershwin rushed forward then and pulled him into a tight hug, wrapping her bony arms around his shoulders and squeezing tight. ¡®If you need anything, just ask, okay? You know where we are.¡¯


    ¡®You¡¯ve done so much already.¡¯ Asher¡¯s voice was muffled by her shoulder. He tried to return the hug, but he couldn¡¯t lift his arms without risking the balance on his cane.


    ¡®Just don¡¯t be a stranger,¡¯ Gershwin said. She pulled away. ¡®Besides, I¡¯d much rather you come and ask us about magic than have you stick your hand in something and hurt yourself.¡¯


    ¡®I promise not to poke any monsters,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®And I don¡¯t think you¡¯re a monster.¡¯


    ¡®Want to hear the ironic part?¡¯ Gershwin said. ¡®The herbs I used on that magistrate were just that. He didn¡¯t even know what they were. I hadn¡¯t used witchcraft at all, not on him or... for a while actually.¡¯


    She gave a sad smile, and Asher forced himself to mimic the motion. He would need help going forward with this, even if seeing spirits gave him an advantage, but he did need to be careful. No-one who could help him would readily admit to a Watchmen that they were dabbling in the illegal, but it was clear also that he wasn¡¯t the only one at risk if he wanted to dig deeper.

 Chapter 7.1 - The Dancing Man

    Norrah was silent as the carriage bounced along the road. Asher wished she would say something. The shadows over her face were starker in the shadows of the curtains, so if it was exhaustion that lulled her into silence, he didn¡¯t blame her. Yet, getting into the carriage had taken an effort. Minutes of twisting and trying to pull himself up when even the slightest pressure on his leg sent a thundering dull pain through the bone left only an awkward pressure over the tiny space. At least Norrah was small enough that they could sit with a little bit of space between them. He found himself watching the farmlands pass out the window. With the Golharie farm sitting on the edge of the forest, it meant there was a lot of farmland to pass before they saw the township.


    Then there were the spirits. Small spectral curls of mist tapped against the glass like tiny, ghostly hands. Bursts of blue and green flashed at each hoof-fall of the horses just outside, and occasionally the crops in the fields outside grew strange flowers like the one that still sat in the kitchen when he left. Gershwin¡¯s warning echoed in his head and he tried not to stare at them.


    Asher needed to speak up first.


    ¡®What did I miss?¡¯ he asked.


    ¡®That would depend on what you remember,¡¯ Norrah returned. She even sounded tired.


    ¡®Not a lot,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®I remember being in the market, and there was a boy missing his mum and a woman missing her daughter, then...¡¯ Then he was pulled into the Underlands and attacked by monsters. Saved by a man who¡¯s eyes caught fire.


    At some point he needed to find out what happened to Penn.


    ¡®Then you disappeared, and logic and civility left with you,¡¯ Norrah said. ¡®Captain Chavereau told me you started freaking out, and even pulled your sword on a merchant, and he couldn¡¯t find you anywhere.¡¯


    Asher flinched.


    ¡®From there, more people seemingly vanished, and other people began to panic.¡¯ Norrah sighed. ¡®I don¡¯t know the specifics beyond that. The Dalvany Lieutenant came back and it was all our efforts to stop a riot from breaking out. Eventually we had most of the people in the town hall, and we were trying to check for the missing when¡­¡¯ she shook her head. ¡®I don¡¯t know. The market disappeared.¡¯


    In a ring of ash, I imagine, Asher added silently. ¡®The stalls and the tables, or the buildings too?¡¯


    ¡®A few of the buildings were missing parts. A railing or balcony here, front steps over there,¡¯ Norrah said. ¡®You don¡¯t seem surprised.¡¯


    ¡®It¡¯s the reason we¡¯re both here, isn¡¯t it?¡¯ Asher said. ¡®Valenda disappeared without a trace. I think they¡¯re connected.¡¯


    Norrah turned to the window, her posture stiff and her shoulders square. She wouldn¡¯t meet his eye. Asher could only think of Navarre and how distant this woman was even in the tight space. No knees pressed against his, and no sly little winks or comments eased the tension. There was nothing but distance between the two of them.


    Navarre was gone.


    ¡®I don¡¯t understand any of this,¡¯ Norrah mumbled.


    ¡®Likewise.¡¯


    ¡®I hope you aim to remedy that,¡¯ Norrah said. ¡®I have been stretched far too thin with the latest events, so I hope despite your injuries you are ready to step in where I can not.¡¯


    There was bite to her words, a flash of shame behind them. Asher suddenly had the sense that she was asking for help, in her own way.


    ¡®I will get to the bottom of this,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®It¡¯s personal now.¡¯


    Norrah flopped back against her seat, wringing her hands together in her lap. ¡®More than anything, I need to know you¡¯ll be an ally going forward. Swear that you will work with me.¡¯


    ¡®I promise.¡¯ Asher felt dirty saying it. He wouldn¡¯t tell her about the monsters, about Penn or about the flickers and sparks sailing past the window, caught in a non-existent breeze. Parts of this mess were on him now, and even if he did tell Norrah, there was no saying she would believe him. He¡¯d sooner find himself on the Black Scroll before anything else.


    ¡®Do you believe you were injured by malice?¡¯ Norrah asked. When Asher raised an eyebrow in question, she met his gaze. ¡®For this to be personal. Do you wish to know what happened, or do you believe a party is at fault?¡¯


    ¡®Maybe a bit of both,¡¯ Asher admitted. ¡®If I can find out where I was, then maybe I can find a way to bring the others out too.¡¯


    ¡®Out?¡¯ Norrah echoed. ¡®Out of what?¡¯


    Asher flinched. The image of Navarre being dragged into the shadows flashed through his head. ¡®That place,¡¯ Asher said quickly. ¡®In my head, I picture it like the Underlands.¡¯


    ¡®But you don¡¯t remember enough for key details?¡¯


    This was already a nightmare. Pull yourself together. ¡®I was delirious when the farmers found me,¡¯ he pointed out. ¡®I remember snatches, but I can¡¯t tell if they were nightmares or memories.¡¯


    ¡®And you feel little need to share?¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t see a point when I can¡¯t say if they¡¯re real or not.¡¯


    Norrah continued to stare at him. Asher hoped nothing was written on his face that would give something away. If Norrah could admit that she was swimming against the current, then could he admit at least to the madness, or how he didn¡¯t trust his own mind. He wasn¡¯t prepared to deal with any of this. Though Gershwin and Aria¡¯s warnings echoed in his head, he still felt exposed. He still felt as though the slightest wrong move would have him hanging from the noose before the day ended. He was well out of his depth.


    ¡®There is something you are not telling me, Lieutenant,¡¯ Norrah said. When Asher flinched, she nodded as though she¡¯d been waiting to catch him. ¡®Even if you doubt the validity of your memories, I would like you to share them. Aren¡¯t the small details the things that matter in these situations?¡¯


    ¡®I guess,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®But anecdotes are also the most unreliable.¡¯


    ¡®You will be working against your own bias then,¡¯ Norrah pointed out.


    She had a point. ¡®I remember being in Dalvany Manor,¡¯ he said. At the mere mention of the nightmare, it sprang to the surface as if waiting to torment him. ¡®Everyone was there, and more. I know that¡¯s not true, unless you know something you¡¯re not telling me.¡¯


    Norrah¡¯s lip curled. ¡®There¡¯s no need to be smart, Lieutenant, but I see your point.¡¯


    Asher opened his mouth to say more, then closed it again. He needed to be careful with what he chose to say. It wasn¡¯t just him on the line; anything could lead back to Gershwin and Aria. They didn¡¯t deserve that from him after all they¡¯d done. They didn¡¯t deserve the consequences period. ¡®I¡­ I remember being afraid,¡¯ he admitted. ¡®More afraid than I¡¯d ever felt in my whole life.¡¯


    Norrah shifted, and she went back to staring out the window. When she spoke, her voice was small. ¡®We are all afraid, Lieutenant,¡¯ she said. ¡®Admitting that is not out of the way for even those braver than us.¡¯


    Asher said nothing. Maybe he was wrong to dismiss Norrah so completely. Fear was playing a part in all of this, and even now a single conversation was making the blood roar in his ears. Disappearing cities and disappearing people had a bizarre edge to it, enough that he could see the same existential anxiety in Norrah¡¯s features. She had to be open to the idea of an unnatural explaination; anyone who wasn¡¯t at this point had to be too stupid to be involved.


    The smell of salt hit hard the closer they came to Dalvany, growing steadily more powerful until it was overpowering.


    The sensation pulled him into a childhood memory of running up and down the dock with the other boys, and the many dock-women who would ruffle his hair or tell him to settle or give him a huge hug before they lifted entire barrels onto their shoulders and lifted whole crates from ships with their bare hands. Asher shook the thoughts away. Focus.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    ¡®There¡¯s something you need to know,¡¯ Norrah said. Her nose wrinkled, letting him know that she could smell the salt too. ¡®Evelyn heard word of your return before I did. She¡¯s been in a rather dramatic state because of it. It¡¯s the reason I came for you and she didn¡¯t. I think you should be prepared.¡¯


    Asher nodded. Dealing with Evelyn hadn¡¯t been at the front of his mind, but he needed to check in on her when he got the chance. So much had gone off the rails so quickly. He only hoped the damage others had experienced was minimal. The best case scenario was that his bout of madness was isolated, though he doubted it would be true.


    The carriage came to a stop, and Norrah pulled in a deep breath, straightening herself up and flattening the folds of her skirt. She blinked away the weariness clouding her eyes, then pushed the carriage door open and stepped into the town square. Into the salt flats that now covered the space where the market used to be.


    Asher opened his own door and took in the scene around him. White, flat stretches of crystal covered the ground around him, shimmering in the weak sunlight. He leaned over and prodded his cane against the surface. It sank into the salt, giving way to clear blue water beneath that pooled against the wood. As Norrah had described, the ashen ring that separated salt from cobblestone had sliced through buildings around the plaza, leaving doors hanging above empty stone and metal prongs sticking out of the walls. A few people milled around, but they gave him only a sideways glance before they went on their way.


    Getting out of the carriage proved to be as difficult as getting in, made more so by the wet, uneven, and constantly shifting ground beneath him. One labourer rushed to help him as Norrah came around to meet him as well, and Asher could only fall limp as rough hands hauled him down.


    The town hall was missing its bottom step. It was also the space that saw all of the commotion he was expecting from arriving here. A few white tents had been propped up at the base of the stairs, the poles sinking deep into the salt and the water breaking through to lap at the cloth. People rushed around, hauling carrier-carts or ordering others around, while lines of people hauling blankets and barrels and carts of food up and down. Watchmen guided people back and forth and pointed groups in directions, some leading to agitated mares waiting outside the ash ring, while others disappeared further into town. With a nod to Asher, Norrah lifted her skirts and rushed towards one of the tents at the base of the stairs.


    There was a small group sitting by the steps of the town hall, huddled into a wall made from the ash ring carving into the stairs. There were only four of them, but one held a slab of wood that had been carved out with a blade. The words read; The Sleepless are Awake. Asher doubted that was the case ¨C he was sure that if this really was the end of time, things would be far more final ¨C but he didn¡¯t know if he should consider the idea that the gods were¡­ real. Real and returning to finish things. No. He¡¯d consider it if he had a reason to. Yet, people were glancing at the sign as they passed, and their demeanour noticeably shifted, becoming more haunted, more tired than they were before.


    Asher hobbled after Norrah, each step aching every bone in his body, making his leg scream. The effort was made worse by how each cane sank into the salt, and his legs sank in with them. It was slow, so much slower than the people rushing around him, and he dreaded the thought of keeping this up for the rest of the investigation. If any of the watchmen had come to him in this state, he would have forced them to take leave. He would have forced them to retire if there was little sign of them recovering.


    Gershwin had said there was no saving his leg. He would be lucky if it healed straight. Already he couldn¡¯t keep up with the people moving around him, and already he could feel the pain of the strain pulling him back. He would have sent himself home. Would he really be living in a future where he didn¡¯t walk straight? Where he wouldn¡¯t be able to do the very tasks he had been happy doing for the last few years? Was he seeing a future where he wasn¡¯t a Lieutenant anymore?


    No. No, his leg had to heal. It would heal. He just needed to push forward, and have some patience with himself.


    He would go back to his usual strength eventually. Right?


    He ducked beneath the cloth door of the tent, and his stomach lurched as groans and blood filled the air. He had walked into a scene too similar to what he had seen above the pub before it all happened. People in cots, being fussed over by grey faced volunteers, covered in instruments and bloodied bandages. Asher noticed the doctor from before in the far corner, as well as the red-haired teenager who had been attacked by a hawk, among a few others who had been patrolling the streets when he arrived. The teen noticed him and gave a small wave, and Asher nodded back. The scar along her face had healed, but it had also left a permanent crevice across her face.


    She was attending an unconscious figure in the cot next to her, who was passed out cold. It was the bartender who had opened her second storey to the first makeshift hospital.


    ¡®What happened to her?¡¯ Asher asked the kid.


    ¡®She was one of the ones that disappeared,¡¯ the girl said. ¡®Like you did, sir. She¡¯s still fighting off the sickness.¡¯


    ¡®You¡¯ll find that¡¯s the case for most of these ones.¡¯ The doctor stepped forward, offering a hand to Asher, which he took. ¡®Good to see you made it back, Lieutenant.¡¯


    ¡®I want to help if I can,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®Any way I can.¡¯


    The doctor gestured to an empty chair on the other side of the tent. ¡®Off that leg first. I want to take a look at you.¡¯


    Asher nodded, and saw Norrah talking to one of the doctors in the corner, showing her the parchment that Gershwin had written. He fixed his arms against the two canes, then yelped as a hand grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop. The bartender. She was awake and staring at him, gripping his arm tight enough that her nails left dints in the skin under his coat.


    ¡®H-hey,¡¯ Asher stammered. Clyde had said her name, but it wouldn¡¯t come to him.


    ¡®I remember you,¡¯ she said.


    The doctor froze. The teenager stared at him. Others in the room turned to look as well.


    Had she been in the ring around the fire? Asher couldn¡¯t remember faces, only those of the monsters. ¡®I remember you,¡¯ he said. Her name came to him in a blink. ¡®Tippy, right? I came into the bar to see the injured people. I was with Clyde. That¡¯s what you mean, right?¡¯


    ¡®You are the dancing man,¡¯ Tippy said.


    Asher felt a lump form in his throat.


    ¡®Hasn¡¯t been much of a relief effort aside from what you see here,¡¯ the doctor said. ¡®When Tippy disappeared nobody wanted near her business. They thought it was jinxed. It probably didn¡¯t help that she started going on about... that when we found her. It¡¯s all she¡¯ll say.¡¯


    ¡®It¡¯s you,¡¯ Tippy said. ¡®You are the dancing man.¡¯


    ¡®I... I don¡¯t know what you mean,¡¯ Asher said. He could feel eyes burning into him as more people shifted their attention to the scene. ¡®I don¡¯t remember much about what happened. Can you remind me?¡¯


    ¡®We were all dancing.¡¯ Tippy was staring at him with an intensity that scared him, a kind of mania that seemed to be willing to push the thoughts into his head.


    He did remember the ring around the fire, but there hadn¡¯t been dancing. Had there? He would have described it more like a march.


    ¡®We were dancing around the fire,¡¯ Tippy pressed. ¡®A fire in a forest, and we were all dancing, then you were there and we were dancing together.¡¯


    She had to be one of the people he¡¯d pulled out of the circle. It was the only explanation, but he struggled to picture when there had been dancing. When had their even been music?


    ¡®Anything coming back to you, Lieutenant?¡¯ Norrah quizzed.


    Asher shook his head.


    ¡®You are a very good dancer,¡¯ Tippy said. ¡®A great dancer. You swept me off my feet. Then you threw me at the fire and I woke up here.¡¯


    ¡®I what?¡¯ The words escaped before Asher could stop them. Penn. Penn had hands on fire and eyes on fire, so Asher could see how she thought that, but the words were still a shock.


    ¡®That¡¯s new,¡¯ the doctor muttered. He raised an eyebrow at Asher, and must have seen something in his expression because his softened. ¡®There¡¯s not a burn mark on her anywhere. Aside from the mania she¡¯s probably the least injured here.¡¯


    Asher strained to remember anything that matched the woman¡¯s story. The fire he remembered, and he remembered the ring around said fire, but dancing? He was also positive he had tossed the people in that ring away from the flame. He¡¯d almost been burned himself! If this was what the woman remembered so vividly, how much of what he remembered was accurate? He¡¯d been so concerned with separating nightmare from real that he didn¡¯t think that all of it had been warped by his own fear. If he couldn¡¯t trust Tippy¡¯s statement to be completely accurate, he didn¡¯t know how to trust his own either.


    ¡®Sit,¡¯ the doctor ordered. ¡®Now.¡¯


    Asher obeyed, easing out of Tippy¡¯s grip and hobbling over to the chair, where he dropped into it less than gracefully. The doctor knelt down in front of him and lifted his injured leg, ignoring Asher¡¯s hiss of pain as he prodded at the bone.


    ¡®I don¡¯t remember...¡¯ The words didn¡¯t feel as dirty as they had before. He still couldn¡¯t trust his own mind.


    ¡®Don¡¯t hurt yourself,¡¯ the doctor said. ¡®Been quite a bit of that going around.¡¯


    ¡®But--¡¯


    ¡®Every story that¡¯s come out from wherever you went has been different,¡¯ the doctor said.


    ¡®How am I supposed to figure this out if I don¡¯t know what happened?¡¯ Asher asked.


    The doctor sighed and lowered his leg back down. ¡®Lift your toes.¡¯


    Asher obeyed.


    ¡®Good. Now drop them and lift your heel. Drop and lift your toes again. I want you to keep doing that until I tell you to stop.¡¯


    The bone tinged in response, sending a dull pain thundering up his whole leg. Asher grit his teeth and forced the joint to keep moving.


    ¡®Your healing pretty well,¡¯ the doctor said. ¡®You¡¯re young, you might come out of this with no sign it ever happened. You might. Until then, I don¡¯t know what you expect to do.¡¯


    Asher stared at him. It was happening. He was being told he couldn¡¯t return to being a Lieutenant. His time in the city watch was over. A watchman with a bad leg was not a good watchman. His career was over.


    ¡®If you exert yourself while the bone is still healing, you¡¯ll have a crooked leg for the rest of your life,¡¯ the doctor said. ¡®I want you off it. You need rest, and you need to take a moment away from all of this. You¡¯re not well, Lieutenant. You haven¡¯t had a chance to bring yourself back to the real world.¡¯


    He knew Gershwin was a witch. He already suspected Asher of the same thing. Asher could see it in the man¡¯s expression. He¡¯d already been caught out.


    ¡®You need rest,¡¯ the doctor pressed. ¡®More than what you¡¯ve already had. Do with that what you will, but that¡¯s my professional opinion.¡¯


    ¡®We can find ways for you to help while you recover,¡¯ Norrah pointed out. ¡®This has been a nightmare for weeks, and I doubt it will resolve tomorrow.¡¯


    Asher nodded. If anything he needed the distraction. He couldn¡¯t let himself be thinking about how he might never again patrol the streets with the other watchmen, or be able to jump at the earliest quest for help. None of it even felt real anymore. It was all a distant dream, another world that he might never see again.

 Chapter 7.2 - Forsaken Square

    ¡®I would at least like to get an idea of what we¡¯re dealing with here,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®How many are still missing?¡¯


    ¡®We¡¯ve been collecting names. Or, Torrey has at least.¡¯ Norrah motioned to the red-haired teen, who nodded and ducked out of the tent. ¡®Anyone who could report to the town hall or could for others they were accounting for did so in the first few days. Between here and Dalvany Manor, it¡¯s a long list. It doesn¡¯t help that the records around here seem to be lacking.¡¯


    Behind her, one of the volunteers snorted. At her raised eyebrow, he shrugged. ¡®Night of Burning Gold didn¡¯t help. We haven¡¯t recovered since.¡¯


    ¡®Also the main record offices were in Valenda,¡¯ the doctor said. ¡®Much like everything else we need here.¡¯


    ¡®You¡¯ll have to explain this ¡°burning gold¡± to me,¡¯ Norrah said. ¡®I don¡¯t quite know your kingdom¡¯s history that well.¡¯


    ¡®It was a march on most of the Kingdom,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®The King before our current one was problematic.¡¯


    ¡®That¡¯s an understatement,¡¯ the doctor muttered.


    ¡®He raised the taxes beyond what people could pay,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®So many went into debt that it led to revolt, and they burned the public offices as a result. A lot of public and historic record went up with them.¡¯ He shook himself. ¡®What¡¯s going on at Dalvany Manor?¡¯


    ¡®Space is what¡¯s happening,¡¯ the doctor said. ¡®The tavern was already overflowing, and Town Hall is a base of operations. Lady Tremboui opened the manor up to everyone that couldn¡¯t fit here.¡¯


    ¡®Well, to the ones who weren¡¯t really old, really young, or in need of immediate care,¡¯ Norrah said.


    One of the women in the cots behind them coughed violently, and the doctor turned on his heel, immediately springing into motion with three other volunteers. Asher watched as her chest heaved and she struggled against the hands holding her down. Her arm and shoulder had been claimed by deep gashes that edged black and purple, the skin breaking and bleeding openly with every movement. Standing a little way away from the cot, was the little boy from the market.


    The kid noticed Asher watching him, then ran over and wrapped chubby little hands around Asher¡¯s shoulders, forcing him down into a tight hug. Asher awkwardly patted him on the shoulder, and he thankfully pulled away.


    ¡®I found mama,¡¯ the boy¡¯s voice was a whisper.


    Asher leaned over to match the volume. ¡®I can see that.¡¯


    ¡®You helped!¡¯


    Asher had no idea if this woman was one of the ones he pulled free. ¡®I tried,¡¯ he said.


    ¡®I saw the fairies bring her back,¡¯ the boy whispered. ¡®Like in the stories.¡¯


    ¡®Did your mama tell you those kinds of stories?¡¯ Asher asked.


    The boy nodded frantically. ¡®She said they were smaller though, and that seeing one was good luck!¡¯


    ¡®They must be lucky if they brought your mama back.¡¯


    The boy frowned then, and shifted as though he were about to admit to breaking some rule Asher didn¡¯t know about. ¡®If the fairies are good, why won¡¯t they come here in the sand?¡¯


    ¡®What do you mean?¡¯ Asher asked. He swore internally at the thought that this kid was seeing the spirits. Of course Asher wouldn¡¯t be the only one, but if others went around talking about it, it was only going to mean trouble. They would seem suspicious for seeing things that weren¡¯t there, and anyone who went into the Underlands and claimed not to would only seem just as suspicious.


    ¡®The fairies,¡¯ the boy said. ¡®Outside. They won¡¯t cross over the line.¡¯


    ¡®What are you saying, sweetie?¡¯ Norrah asked. The boy jumped as though he had been caught, and his ears turned bright red.


    ¡®It¡¯s alright,¡¯ Asher said. Fuck, he added quietly.


    ¡®They won¡¯t come into the circle,¡¯ the boy said. ¡®The fairies.¡¯


    ¡®Can you show me where these fairies are?¡¯ Norrah asked. ¡®Maybe we can ask them what¡¯s wrong.¡¯


    The boy nodded and rushed for the tent flap, then paused and turned back to Asher. Asher struggled to his feet, this time only taking one cane as Norrah carved a path through the commotion to follow the kid. The boy bounced back and forth impatiently as Asher struggled along. He could feel the doctor watching him, and knew he was gonna hear about this later.


    His joints were screaming as he hobbled after the boy, his arms and hips so exhausted by the movement and pressure that they muted the pain in his leg. Norrah kept her pace slow to keep with him, but much like him, her boots and her skirts sank into the salt and grew heavy with the water beneath. Asher noted a group of surveyors had set up on the other side of the courtyard, collecting vials of the salt and prodding at the ground to force the water upwards. Asher made a note to talk to them at some point.


    The boy led them to where the ash line cut through the road, carving through brick and cobblestone to give way to the rest of the town beyond. He pointed towards the ground, and Asher¡¯s stomach lurched. Small rivers of white light were running through the cracks in the cobblestone, and when they reached the ash line, they collected together into small balls that drifted up into the air. The boy pointed to one as it drifted up past his eye level. ¡®See? They won¡¯t go past the line.¡¯


    Asher swallowed. The same as on the farm. He¡¯d have to go back up to Valenda to see if the situation was the same up there, though he suspected it was.


    ¡®I see,¡¯ Norrah said. ¡®Why don¡¯t you give me and my friend a moment to ask what¡¯s wrong. Go back to your mother.¡¯


    The boy nodded and rushed back to the tent.


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    ¡®You see?¡¯ Asher echoed.


    ¡®No, I do not,¡¯ Norrah said. ¡®Do you?¡¯


    ¡®No,¡¯ Asher said.


    ¡®Still, it worries me,¡¯ Norrah said. ¡®Especially for a story like that to come from a little boy. So far he¡¯s been quiet. Helping where he can in the way children do, but not causing trouble.¡¯


    ¡®Do you think we might actually be dealing with fairies?¡¯ Asher asked.


    Norrah threw him a sceptical look. ¡®Those are just stories,¡¯ she said. ¡®I don¡¯t blame the boy for coming to that conclusion considering the confusing nature of our situation, but there is an explanation for everything, and I will not see any of this explained away as ¡°magic¡± just for the sake of closure.¡¯


    Asher nodded. A week ago he would have agreed with that exact sentiment. He did hold that same belief a week ago. Now there were invisible lights floating around his head that were also refusing to cross an equally invisible wall.


    ¡®Don¡¯t tell me you believe in magic, Lieutenant.¡¯


    ¡®Never thought much of it,¡¯ Asher admitted. ¡®I¡¯m just preparing to have an open mind about the reason for all of this.¡¯


    Norrah stared at him. He thought he saw the echo of a thought almost pull her into a response, when the red-haired teen - Torrey - approached with a bound leather parchment. Norrah took it with a small thanks, and as the young girl ducked back towards the tent, she flicked it open.


    ¡®I don¡¯t know what the watch have been doing to organise this, but I have tried to stay out of their way,¡¯ Norrah said.


    It looked to Asher like there were two separate lists scrawled across the pages, all of them in different handwriting with differing levels of neatness. One of them he guessed was the list Norrah had mentioned before, of people checking in for themselves and for the people they knew to be still in Dalvany. On the other list, he spotted his own name in the middle, scrawled neatly with a thick ink line cutting through it.


    Underneath his name was a scrawl that read Cpt. Chavereau.


    Navarre.


    Norrah caught his expression and frowned. ¡®The names we know were in the market who haven¡¯t checked in,¡¯ she said. ¡®I¡¯m sorry, Lieutenant. I know you two were close.¡¯


    Asher said nothing. He couldn¡¯t for the lump in his throat. There could still be a chance he found his own way out, right? Penn couldn¡¯t be the only way to get out of that place. Except, Hadley had stopped him from following for that very reason. If he went in further - if he went as far in as Navarre had gone - he wouldn¡¯t come back.


    The image of Navarre being dragged into the darkness flashed through his head again, and Asher felt the urge to throw up.


    ¡®We will find them, Lieutenant,¡¯ Norrah pressed. ¡®We are all in serious danger of collapse if we don¡¯t.¡¯ She paused. ¡®Are you sure you¡¯re up to this?¡¯


    Asher nodded, forcing his gaze away from the spirits and meeting Norrah¡¯s stare. ¡®I have to do this.¡¯


    Norrah nodded.


    She helped him hobble back to the tent, and Asher scanned over the rest of the names as he limped along, wishing he had brought the other cane just to help balance himself. He didn¡¯t recognise any names on the unaccounted list, though that wasn¡¯t surprising when he wasn¡¯t exactly local. He could at least see no name that had crossed his path since he got here, so he still had people he could work with.


    As he made his way back into the tent, the doctor gestured to a vacant cot Asher hadn¡¯t noticed before, with a pointed stare that told Asher he had little choice in the matter. He pulled himself up onto the rough cotton, feeling awkward even sitting upright as the others milled around him. Norrah thankfully didn¡¯t stay, and instead moved back outside, but Asher felt wrong. His limbs itched at the stillness, at the business around him that he couldn¡¯t match. Sitting out like this was unnatural.


    ¡®Shirt off,¡¯ the doctor ordered.


    Asher obeyed, shrugging off his coat and working the buttons of his shirt as the bustle continued around him. The doctor lifted a metal tube from a nearby table and made Asher follow it with only his eyes, then tapped and squeezed at his leg until his clothes had fallen free. Only the bandages wrapped around his chest remained.


    ¡®These been bothering you in any way?¡¯ the doctor asked.


    Asher shook his head. ¡®I think I slept through them healing.¡¯


    The doctor grunted and cut the bandages away, and Asher realised then that he hadn¡¯t seen the extent of this injury. He immediately wished he hadn¡¯t. The wounds had healed, but they¡¯d also scarred in a way that would have made him afraid to stare if he saw them on someone else. Thick rivers of red flesh had been carved across his torso, slashing from his abdomen all the way to his collar, four of them warping the skin of his chest and stomach, hollowing them out and stretching what remained.


    ¡®You¡¯ve healed well,¡¯ the doctor said.


    Asher swallowed the bile taste down in his throat. These weren¡¯t wounds. These were permanent. Much like everything else that had happened.


    ¡®You managed to beat the poison, whatever it was,¡¯ the doctor pressed. ¡®This is not the worst outcome, trust me.¡¯


    Asher nodded. It took strength not to run his fingers along the edges of raw skin. He felt eyes staring into him, and when he glanced up, Norrah quickly turned from him. He tried not to let his skin crawl. The doctor was right; this could have been much worse. Right now, he couldn¡¯t be worried about something like this. If the others were also seeing spirits, then it wouldn¡¯t take long for chaos to break out.


    Before he could get a word out, the tent flap flung open again, and Evelyn charged into the space. Asher jumped, rushing to pull his shirt closed over his chest before she spotted him. Her usual finery had been replaced with a simple travellers coat, and her powdered face and wig were gone too, replaced with a lined face with hollowed eyes, and wild, hastily pinned white hair. The sight hurt something in his chest, though he couldn¡¯t figure out why.


    ¡®I¡¯m over here, Evelyn.¡¯


    No sooner had the words left his mouth than the woman turned and rushed towards him with a cry, slapping both her hands hard onto either cheek and crushing his face together. She stared, her eyes glassy, and Asher could see wheels turning behind her eyes, as though she didn¡¯t recognise him but wanted to. After a painful silence stretched on too long, she lunged forward and pulled him into a hug tight enough to make his shoulders pop.


    ¡®I¡¯m alright,¡¯ he told her. He thought it would be at least polite to return the hug, but she had pinned his arms to his side.


    ¡®I thought I lost you, Ashy,¡¯ her voice was muffled where her head buried into his head. ¡®I thought you were dead.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯m alright.¡¯ He felt stupid, but didn¡¯t know what else to say. He managed to wriggle free of her grip, then flinched away as she made to pull his shirt loose again. ¡®I¡¯m alright,¡¯ he pressed. ¡®I stayed out on the farms until I was well enough to travel.¡¯


    ¡®I didn¡¯t want to see until I was sure,¡¯ Evelyn whispered. ¡®I thought you were dead. Oh, but your leg! And what¡¯s on your chest? What aren¡¯t you showing me.¡¯


    ¡®The leg is just a break,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®And I¡¯m not comfortable with you pawing at me like that.¡¯


    ¡®Don¡¯t be a baby, Ashy,¡¯ Evelyn chided.


    The doctor cleared his throat. ¡®He¡¯s right. He broke his leg, but I¡¯ve only got him on the bed for my own peace of mind. I could only give him the once over out on the farm.¡¯


    ¡®What were you doing on a farm?¡¯ Evelyn demanded. ¡®Where did you go? You had us all worried!¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t remember,¡¯ Asher said. He¡¯d said it so many times now it was starting to sound like the truth. ¡®I don¡¯t know, but I¡¯m going to find out.¡¯


    The doctor sighed. ¡®I knew you wouldn¡¯t listen,¡¯ he said. ¡®At least give me today to give you a once over. You can leave tomorrow.¡¯


    ¡®Couldn¡¯t you do that tomorrow, doctor?¡¯ Evelyn asked. ¡®He can come back to the manor with me, back in comfort at his home. He¡¯s not so bad that he¡¯s here with the others, is he?¡¯


    ¡®No, ma¡¯am,¡¯ the doctor said. ¡®But he was when the Golharie¡¯s sent for me, and I want to check for anything that might help everyone else with the same problem.¡¯


    ¡®But--¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯m saying this as a doctor, ma¡¯am,¡¯ the doctor pressed. ¡®He stays.¡¯


    Evelyn sighed, and Asher couldn¡¯t help feel bad for deciding to be a difficult patient. He wasn¡¯t ready to go back to the manor, where Lord Barque and other high ranked nobles would be waiting, where another round of questions would probably start. Where Navarre wasn¡¯t. For now, he would let himself be examined and prodded, because there were still things to do in Dalvany. The aches of moving from farm to town had been bad enough; while he was here, he could remove the pain of travel and start working to figure this out properly. At least, he hoped he could.

 Chapter 8.1 - The Man With Glowing Eyes

    At no point did the commotion in the tent settle during the night. For everyone that came in with bandages or food or other supplies, there was an issue with a patient or one of the volunteers was switching out to curl up in the corner and nap for an hour. At some point, long after the sun had gone down and the noise beyond the tent had died, everything fell into an uneven lull. Asher¡¯s skin had stopped itching, no longer begging his muscles to get up and move around or help. The only constant was the ache in his leg. His mind however, didn¡¯t settle.


    Part of him thought about coming clean about what he did remember. If he was going to accept that it was all real - and it was harder to convince himself it wasn¡¯t - then it would feel good to accept that these new rules were ones everyone would have to follow if they wanted to get anywhere. It would come out eventually if others were seeing the same strange things, or even had the same memories of the Underlands as he did, it would come out soon enough. It was better to come out with it and be honest. Yet, he was afraid.


    Now that he was around the regular crowd, he could feel the same fear threatening to bubble over. How much information could he give before he was considered to be just insane. Or worse, enough of a public threat to hang from the noose. It was what Norrah had said before that stuck in his mind now. ¡°I will not see any of this explained away as ¡°magic¡± just for the sake of closure.¡± He had said something so similar to Navarre. He could hear all the explanations in the world and still not believe half the things he had seen. If Norrah was as similar as he had been in mindset, there wasn¡¯t anything he could say unless he had some kind of proof.


    Sleep wasn¡¯t coming to him, though he hadn¡¯t expected it to. Still, as he pulled himself up - mindful of the others sleeping around him - exhaustion pulled at him as though he had disturbed a full sleep. He moved slow, easing his foot over the edge of the cot and reaching for the cane he had left at his bedside. He had gotten up to his feet and shrugged his coat on when a voice grunted out from behind him.


    The doctor cleared his throat, then lifted himself from a chair at the back of the space. ¡®I was hoping you would wait until morning.¡¯


    ¡®I need to relieve myself,¡¯ Asher lied.


    The doctor shook his head. ¡®The chamberpot is under your bed. Don¡¯t try that.¡¯


    A cold chill ran down the length of Asher¡¯s spine.


    ¡®I told those women not to push their favours,¡¯ the doctor said. ¡®I¡¯m telling you now. Nothing good comes from going down this path.¡¯


    ¡®What path is that?¡¯ Asher asked. ¡®If you¡¯re talking about the Black Scroll, I know.¡¯


    The doctor grunted. ¡®You must be desperate if you¡¯re willing to ignore murder in the name of sacrifice.¡¯


    Asher¡¯s mind blanked. ¡®What?¡¯


    ¡®They didn¡¯t mention that part, did they?¡¯ the doctor asked. ¡®There was a third in their little group. Some madwoman called Hadley. They killed her.¡¯


    Asher blinked. It explained the guilt each of them seemed to hold. ¡®Hadley?¡¯ he echoed.


    The doctor nodded. ¡®Hadley Derrian. This was about a year ago, but I won¡¯t see them pull you down the same path. We still need you, Lieutenant.¡¯


    Asher almost said it. He wondered how much that argument would break down if he pointed out that Hadley was very much alive, but it still wasn¡¯t the time to come out with the full story. He had no way to prove it outside of his own unreliable memories. ¡®You¡¯re worried I¡¯ve sided with the monsters that attacked me.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯m worried that you¡¯re going to start down a path you can¡¯t turn back from.¡¯


    This again. ¡®It¡¯s too late for that,¡¯ Asher said. He sighed. ¡®Thank you for your concern, Doctor, but this is my job. I know what I¡¯m doing.¡¯


    The doctor stared at him. They both stood for a long moment, watching each other, and Asher wondered if he was about to argue with a man willing to call for the guards or for a set of a shackles. When Tippy groaned and pulled herself into a sitting position, pulling the doctors attention away. Tippy turned to stare at him, her face blank. Asher could feel her eyes on him, even as he turned and hobbled out of the tent.


    The courtyard with its strange salty ground was bare as Asher made his way across. A few carts had been unhooked and left near the buildings, joined with crates and bags of various supplies. Asher noted a figure at the other end of the space, a lone constable patrolling the edge of the ash border.


    He made for the tent he saw the surveyors at before, testing the weight of his foot as he did to find a position that wasn¡¯t agonising, and settling for that same constant dull ache that had become the norm. Peering into the tent revealed two figures inside, both of them asleep. One had curled up under a burlap sack, while the other sat up in a chair, her head lolled to the side. Asher eased the tent flap closed again, and made a note to check with them again in the morning.


    Another spirit caught his eye, hanging off a lantern of a nearby building. It looked like an overgrown vine that had broken out of the iron case. Grey-green shapes twisted out from the flickering light, blue leaves drifting in the wind. Asher approached it, trying to piece where the flame ended and the vine began, but they were perfectly fused together. One of the leaves snapped free of the vine, and Asher reached up to catch it before it could fall over the ash line. It turned to dust in his hand, the same flaky grit that came with everything else. A small pile now sat in his palm, and he considered brushing it away, then shoved it into the pocket of his coat. If it was the same stuff that bordered the salt, there might have been something there. He didn¡¯t know what, but something.


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    Slowly, not with any clear destination, he made his way around the edge of the circle. He didn¡¯t know what he was looking for, or if it was anything in particular at all, but anything odder than the ring had to stand out. Asher noted the same mists turning into balls of light from before, and the same plants breaking through the gaps in the cobblestone that he had seen in Gershwin and Aria¡¯s kitchen.


    Then there was Penn.


    The strange man looked the same way as the last times Asher had seen him, dressed in a ragged cloak with long, thick hair falling over his face. Now, even in the low light of the lanterns, he could make out smaller details. The fingers of his gloves had been cut off, and a flash of brown skin beneath the sleeve revealed the edges of a red scar. He wore no shoes, and his pants were folded up to his mid thigh. Nothing fit, and nothing was entirely in one piece either. A small tail had been tied at the back of his head, but so much had fallen away from it that it was almost completely hidden.


    Penn straightened, his head snapping around to stare at Asher. The flame behind his eyes flashed bright enough to make Asher flinch. Asher held up his one free hand.


    ¡®It¡¯s just me,¡¯ he said.


    Penn stared for a beat longer, then turned his head forward. Asher realised he was watching the spirits meet the ash line, his eyes following the lights as they sailed up into the air.


    ¡®I never got the chance to thank you,¡¯ Asher said.


    Penn didn¡¯t move.


    ¡®You saved my life, and everyone here,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®I mean it. Thank you.¡¯


    Penn said nothing. Instead, he dropped down into a crouch and placed his hand flat on the ground, letting the mist run over his palm. Asher eased forward.


    ¡®How did you know?¡¯ Asher asked. ¡®You knew it was going to happen... whatever it was. The Gate?¡¯


    ¡®I warned you,¡¯ Penn said.


    ¡®I know. But how did you know?¡¯


    ¡®They told me.¡¯ Penn raised his fingers, and the mist sifted between them. When a light broke out of it and rose into the air, he lashed his hand out and caught it. It didn¡¯t turn to dust like the leaf had. Instead it held its original shape, warping as though trying to escape his grasp.


    ¡®The spirits?¡¯ Asher asked.


    ¡®Yes.¡¯


    ¡®They talk to you?¡¯


    Penn gave a single nod. He lifted the ball of light up to his eye level, then blew on it, long and soft, before releasing it. The light sailed forward, crossing over the ash line, then puffed into nothing. Penn frowned.


    ¡®You said you¡¯re not a witch,¡¯ Asher pointed out. Though, the ¡°alchemist¡± had called him something else. Warden. Gatekeeper, and a foreign word that he could remember.


    ¡®I am not a witch,¡¯ Penn said. ¡®You are the witch.¡¯


    Asher recoiled. ¡®I¡¯m not a witch.¡¯


    Penn growled, glancing Asher up and down. ¡®Then leave.¡¯


    ¡®I just want to understand what happened,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®If we¡¯re on the same side, maybe we can help each other.¡¯


    ¡®No.¡¯


    ¡®Can I at least ask you a few--¡¯


    ¡®No.¡¯ Penn glowered, those impossible eyes flashing again. ¡®I am not here to help.¡¯


    ¡®You saved my life,¡¯ Asher pointed out. ¡®I think that¡¯s helpful.¡¯


    Another low growl rumbled deep in Penn¡¯s throat. Asher held his hands up, this time balancing so he could lift his cane as well. He¡¯d never considered another human being to be feral before, but the word was circling in his mind now. ¡®Witch or not, you still know more than I do --¡¯


    ¡®I am not a witch.¡¯


    ¡®I know, you said that, but--¡¯


    ¡®I am a Nakati. They are not the same thing.¡¯


    Asher blinked. That wasn¡¯t the same word the monsters had used. ¡®I don¡¯t know what that means,¡¯ he said. ¡®Is that how you talk to spirits?¡¯


    Penn nodded.


    ¡®And back in that place, in the Underlands--¡¯


    ¡®Le Torkani,¡¯


    ¡®Right, you were controlling the ground and the fire.¡¯


    ¡®I am a Nakati,¡¯ Penn said. The words were surprisingly harsh and bitter. ¡®I tell the spirits what to do. They tell me what to do. You¡¯re the witch. Not me.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯m not a witch,¡¯ Asher pressed. ¡®I think the word was seir.¡¯


    ¡®That word is for children.¡¯


    Asher¡¯s stomach turned at the notion. ¡®Maybe you could explain this to me as though I¡¯m a child.¡¯


    Penn stepped towards him, those amber eyes flickering fast and bright, then reached over and snatched Asher¡¯s arm up. He ran a dirty nail along Asher¡¯s palm, then brandished the dust that had collected. ¡®Witch,¡¯ he hissed.


    No. This couldn¡¯t be completely right, could it? If the dust meant he was a witch - if it was even possible to just become a witch - the weird dust couldn¡¯t be the only proof of it. The dust seemed to come from the spirits, and if Gershwin couldn¡¯t see them, couldn¡¯t interact with them, then her confession of witchcraft meant nothing. Did that also mean the ground and the little boy and all the other bizarre things counted as being a witch, or were they just a product of witch craft?


    Perhaps he was looking for a witch after all. Though he hated the thought that witchcraft could grow this powerful.


    ¡®I¡¯m not a witch,¡¯ he pressed.


    ¡®Then leave me alone.¡¯


    Penn released his hand and leapt over the ashen line, then prodded at the same line with his foot. The ground broke away, revealing the chasm beneath, and Asher inched back. ¡®The Underlands, or Le Torkani, is that¡¯s what¡¯s down there?¡¯


    ¡®No.¡¯


    ¡®So what is it?¡¯


    ¡®Nothing.¡¯


    ¡®You mean nothing is down there, or...¡¯ Asher bit down on his lip as Penn glared at him again. Penn held out his arm then, splaying his fingers and stretching his palm flat towards the ground. He spoke under his breath in a strange, curling language that Asher couldn¡¯t place, and the dirt between the cobblestones came loose, trailing down into the salt. The streams turned to ash once they crossed the imaginary border. Penn frowned.


    ¡®It¡¯s not supposed to do that?¡¯


    ¡®No.¡¯


    ¡®And it was the same up in Valenda?¡¯ Asher asked. When Penn raised an eyebrow in question, he added. ¡®Up north. A whole city disappeared.¡¯


    Something behind Penn¡¯s expression shifted, something far too similar to guilt or shame, but not quite either. Asher already knew this man was involved, but there was more here, and he needed to find a way to get him to stick around fast.


    ¡®Look,¡¯ he said.


    ¡®No,¡¯ Penn growled. ¡®Go away.¡¯


    ¡®But--¡¯


    ¡®I will throw you back in Le Torkani,¡¯ Penn snapped. ¡®Leave me alone.¡¯


    Asher sighed. Maybe there would be another chance later, but he was pushing his luck. ¡®Sorry,¡¯ he mumbled. ¡®Thank you again, for all your help.¡¯


    Penn turned away, tracing the ashen line with his foot. Asher watched him wander away for a moment, hoping that maybe he would change his mind and turn back, but he didn¡¯t. A Nakati. He would have to search for that word later, maybe in an old fairytale or legend, anything that could offer him a hint.

 Chapter 8.2 - New Command

    The constable came around again, and Asher pulled in a breath, turning to make his way towards the uniform instead. He¡¯d suddenly lost any sense of direction on what he planned to do. He hadn¡¯t had a plan for coming out here, but now he felt even more so directionless.


    Asher shook himself. This was an investigation. He was a professional. Why this was such a difficult thing for him to start on was as much a mystery as the rest of it. He didn¡¯t want to believe that he was so out of sorts that he couldn¡¯t even string two thoughts together. No, he could do this. He needed a report. All he had to do was walk up to the constable and see if there was anything to report. From there, he would stop acting and thinking like an absolute moron.


    The constable noticed him and Asher waved the woman over, then realised with a start that it wasn¡¯t a constable at all, but a man out of uniform. A volunteer? He had to assume that the menial work was being done by people who could be trusted well enough, but something in him protested at the sight of a civilian - one with a rifle slung over his back - patrolling around like the member of some militia. The man gave a half-hearted salute, his hand thumping into his chest and dropping before Asher could even register it.


    ¡®I didn¡¯t realise you were back,¡¯ he said. Then, as an afterthought. ¡®Sir.¡¯


    ¡®Oh,¡¯ Asher said. Something felt wrong. Off. A civilian patrolling around the square. The only one patrolling around the square. ¡®Who are you?¡¯


    ¡®One of the volunteers,¡¯ the man said. ¡®Since all the others are busy with the clean up.¡¯


    ¡®The Lieutenant has civilians on patrol?¡¯ Asher asked. ¡®I didn¡¯t realise we were that short.¡¯


    The man¡¯s brow creased. ¡®Lieutenant?¡¯ he echoed.


    Asher gripped his cane hard. Something¡¯s wrong. A stick of wood wasn¡¯t going to win in a fight against a rifle, but the surveyors tent wasn¡¯t that far away. If he yelled loud enough, he could wake the entire square. Yet, if he did that, he would cause the very panic he had been trying to avoid. ¡®What¡¯s going on?¡¯ he demanded.


    ¡®The Captain pulled us out,¡¯ the man said. ¡®Because we served in Telkesi Gap. She figured we were close enough to the real thing that it would work.¡¯ He shifted. ¡®Oh, you weren¡¯t here for that. Captain Delana came up from Fanmaryh. Apparently one of the Royal Captains got snatched away too.¡¯


    ¡®Yeah, he did,¡¯ Asher mumbled. It still hurt as much as the first time. He shook it away. ¡®I thought Delana was in the middle of inheriting the province?¡¯


    ¡®Nah, that¡¯s her sister,¡¯ the man said. ¡®Though with how bad this is getting, she might turn up too.¡¯


    Asher grunted in agreement. ¡®Is there anything you need to report? While I¡¯m here.¡¯


    The man shrugged. ¡®Not really. Captain was sure we¡¯d have to worry about thieves or other trouble, but nothing brings the people together and all that. I think Captain Delana is up at the manor, so if something comes up I¡¯ll tell you first.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯d appreciate that,¡¯ Asher said. The man made to turn away, but a shout pulled him to a stop. A tight feeling clamped down on Asher¡¯s chest, and he was reminded of the same prickling sensation he had felt in the moments before the monsters attacked. Everything had felt a little bit off then too. It had turned to madness with a shout then too.


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    Asher turned and followed the man as he followed the shout, hurrying to keep up despite the protests of his leg. He was lucky that he didn¡¯t need to come far before two more men burst from the alley, dragging Penn between them. Penn was in a state of fury, struggling and spitting as he tried to pry himself free. The two civilians held strong.


    ¡®What do you think you¡¯re doing?¡¯ Asher demanded.


    Both men paused, but didn¡¯t let go of Penn. ¡®He was hanging around the square,¡¯ one of them said. ¡®Playing around with the ring. We were told to watch out for suspicious characters.¡¯


    ¡®Watch for them,¡¯ Asher echoed. ¡®You don¡¯t have any rank or permission to be rounding them up like vigilantes. Let him go.¡¯


    None of the men moved.


    ¡®Now,¡¯ Asher growled. ¡®Before I have all of you thrown in a holding cell instead. Let him go.¡¯


    They finally obeyed, slowly prying their hands away from Penn¡¯s arms. Penn shrugged them off, but when he tried to duck away, one of them knocked his leg with his gun, holding him in place. Anger burned through Asher¡¯s chest, a kind of anger he¡¯d never felt before. It sizzled hot, and took effort to hold back.


    ¡®This man has been helping me,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®I can vouch for him. None of you have any kind of permission to be doing this, and you¡¯re not getting permission. In fact, if I ever see you patrolling around here, I will have you arrested.¡¯


    ¡®Mr... I mean, sir, Lieutenant--¡¯


    ¡®No,¡¯ Asher growled. ¡®This... This is not okay. You¡¯ve burned through any goodwill you had. Leave. Leave the volunteers alone, and show respect for your commanding officers.¡¯


    The leader stepped forward. ¡®Sir, we¡¯re authorised. We fought in Telkesi, we have rank--¡¯


    ¡®Stop.¡¯ The anger was bubbling up now, and it escaped in his voice. ¡®I know Telkesi Gap. This is not how things are done. Leave. Now. That¡¯s an order.¡¯


    The two men with Penn glanced at each other, and Asher wondered for a horrible second if he was about to see the start of a mini-coup. Thankfully, they shifted away from Penn, and the two of them pushed past and sauntered further into the square. Penn fixed his cloak further onto his shoulder. His gaze fell on Asher, less rage-filled than before.


    ¡®Thanks,¡¯ he mumbled.


    Asher glanced back at the two idiots. So it was clear he wasn¡¯t the only one with secrets, but he didn¡¯t like the idea of anyone abusing authoritative power ever, especially not now when everyone was so on edge. Was this why they needed him? Were the volunteers letting the power go to their heads? No, that was something else. He would have to check in with Fanmaryh¡¯s Captain later.


    Asher turned back to Penn. ¡®Look¡­¡¯


    ¡®No.¡¯


    ¡®Just listen,¡¯ Asher pressed. ¡®I know I don¡¯t know anything about magic, but I know how to work with people. I can stop people from bothering you. I just want to know what you know.¡¯


    ¡®No.¡¯


    Asher pinched the bridge of his nose. ¡®Please don¡¯t make me beg.¡¯


    Penn stared at him.


    ¡®We¡¯re on the same side, aren¡¯t we?¡¯ Asher asked. ¡®We both want this to stop happening.¡¯


    ¡®Keep the Gate closed,¡¯ Penn said.


    ¡®Right.¡¯ The memory came back in a blink. ¡®The demons¡ª¡¯


    ¡®Fienta.¡¯


    ¡®Right. Those. They called you a Gatekeeper. So that¡¯s what you do? You keep the Gate closed?¡¯


    Penn¡¯s brow twitched in a flash of anger. ¡®I am a Nakati.¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t know what that means.¡¯


    ¡®It¡¯s what I am.¡¯


    Asher blinked. He had a sneaking suspicion he had just made this more difficult for himself. He ran his hands through his hair, then glanced around at the rest of the square, taking note of who else was around. No-one by the looks of it. He could probably convince the others that Penn was a volunteer easy, moreso if he gave the man some shoes and clean clothes. He could also be honest and say Penn was helping him as a way to get the others off the stranger¡¯s back.


    ¡®I, um¡­ I¡¯m going to be heading back up to the Manor tomorrow I think,¡¯ he said. When Penn gave a confused look, he added, ¡®the big house outside of town.¡¯


    ¡®The one with lots of people in it?¡¯ Penn asked. ¡®I will wait outside.¡¯


    ¡®I can probably get you in,¡¯ Asher said, though he doubted it even as he said it.


    Penn, thankfully, shook his head. ¡®I don¡¯t like houses.¡¯


    That didn¡¯t surprise him at all. ¡®Come on,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®I¡¯ll find you something to blend in a bit better.¡¯

 Chapter 9.1 - The Archives

    By the time Asher crawled back into the cot, the sun was showing its cracks through the gaps of the buildings. His leg screamed from a dozen new aches that hadn¡¯t been there before and his body grew heavy at the thought of sleep, but it didn¡¯t come. Too much kept piling up around it all. Usually when he had to figure something out, each detail added to the situation. Though, he¡¯d also never dealt with an investigation proper before. It was easier when it was whoever threw the first punch, or who had been shooting at the foxes or who had taken the sign from the newly opened shop.


    Though, there were details that he could realistically pull together at least. He knew this had to do with the Gate to the Underlands ¨C which was also called Le Torkani ¨C and so far it looked like the same thing had happened at Valenda. If he considered everything else, he could probably connect it back to the Gate. The Witch Gate. If the spirits were acting weird ¨C from what he could tell anyway ¨C then it would make sense if that was what was setting all the animals off. As for what had happened with the volunteers, he could convince himself it was either idiots abusing their authority or he¡¯d missed something in the weeks he¡¯d been missing. Penn on the other hand¡­ was a complete enigma.


    All of this was just guesswork though. It didn¡¯t make him feel any better, and he still had as many questions as he did before. He didn¡¯t feel any better.


    He¡¯d barely shut his eyes before Evelyn swept into the tent, offering only a passing wave to the doctor before charging straight for Asher. Asher didn¡¯t have the energy to push away her coddles, and before he knew it, the doctor had waved him out of the tent and he was in a carriage heading back to Dalvany Manor. The journey itself was a blur as his mind continued to work on every thread, every detail he remembered and the gaps that could be filled in. The Alchemist ¨C or whatever that monster really had been ¨C told him that he had been looking for the Gatekeeper, for Penn. If there was a reason why specific people were pulled into that place, what was the reason for Navarre? For the little kids and the bartender? An entire city¡¯s worth of people. If there was something there, any kind of thread he could pull at, he could figure out where it was going to happen next.


    Though the question was also in size. Valenda had been huge, twice the size of Dalvany in square kilometres alone, but Dalvany was only missing it¡¯s square. Then there was the circle out on Gershwin and Aria¡¯s farm, but that was different, wasn¡¯t it? He hadn¡¯t disappeared; that had been the place where he reappeared. So what was the difference between the first two, and had anyone else returned in a similar ring?


    ¡®Evelyn?¡¯ His voice made the woman across from him jump. He wondered if she¡¯d tried to talk to him at any point in the carriage ride. When he turned to her, she had been staring out the window with a vacant expression.


    She straightened and smoothed down the folds of her dress. ¡®What is it?¡¯ she asked.


    ¡®The city records,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®I know there aren¡¯t many left after Burning Gold, but the library in Dalvany Manor still keeps its own, right?¡¯


    ¡®You don¡¯t intend to take that break the doctor ordered, do you?¡¯ Evelyn asked.


    Asher shook his head. ¡®I could at least do the boring bureaucratic stuff while I can¡¯t walk.¡¯


    ¡®I would rather that then you running around like Miss Norrah has been,¡¯ Evelyn said. ¡®That girl hasn¡¯t stopped. It worries me.¡¯


    ¡®You¡¯re worried about Norrah?¡¯ Asher asked. He could still remember clearly how much hatred she¡¯d held when he first arrived.


    ¡®Oh, don¡¯t give me that look, Ashy,¡¯ Evelyn huffed. ¡®She is nothing like Henri, which has helped her favour immensely I believe. She is also an overall lovely person.¡¯


    ¡®Oh,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®I¡¯m glad.¡¯


    ¡®Though, as for your question, I couldn¡¯t say,¡¯ Evelyn said. ¡®I¡¯ve been managing the¡­ guests at the manor, and making sure none of the staff are hurt by the extra work. The place is no better organised than the town. You¡¯re welcome to have a look, but I don¡¯t know what you¡¯ll find.¡¯


    ¡®Okay,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®Thank you. It¡¯s worth a look if anything.¡¯


    Evelyn bit her lip, staring at him. ¡®Are you okay, Ashy?¡¯


    Asher blinked. ¡®I¡­ I guess so. Considering.¡¯ When Evelyn continued to stare, he added, ¡®my leg hurts.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯ve kept one of the rooms spare,¡¯ Evelyn said. ¡®You can stay as long as you need to. Just¡­ don¡¯t do anything too dangerous, okay?¡¯


    It was Asher¡¯s turn to stare. He didn¡¯t have a lot of knowledge about what Evelyn was like normally, but this was not the aunt he had come to expect in his few dealings with her. It was almost as though she had been replaced with a completely different person, and he didn¡¯t know how to react. On one hand, she was much nice than the Evelyn he¡¯d had to deal with in the past, but it also felt¡­ off.


    They pulled through the Manor gates and Asher saw immediately what she had meant by busy. The front doors were wide open, with no-one making a move to close them. Other carriages had been parked haphazardly in different places across the garden, their horses let free to chew on the bushes and the grass to their own content. A handful of people were moving in and out of the house, shouting at each other, some carrying crates or bags, or arguing about how to get the bigger ones down the stairs. Asher scanned each face looking for a familiar one, but he couldn¡¯t even see any of the lords or ladies who had been at the manor that first night.


    Then came a flash of red hair as the teenager with the scar down her face hopped down the stairs, weaving around the others with an ease and passing an envelope to one of the waiting men. As the carriage pulled up and Asher struggled out, she noticed and rushed to help him. Norrah had called her Torrey, from what he could remember. When he managed to get down, she handed him his walking sticks, and in a flash he remembered the doctor back in town.


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    ¡®Thanks,¡¯ he told her. ¡®It¡¯s Torrey, right?¡¯


    The girl nodded.


    ¡®Can you do me a favour, Torrey?¡¯ he asked. He glanced around to see where Evelyn had gotten to, and when he didn¡¯t see her, he lowered his voice. ¡®Don¡¯t tell anyone though, okay?¡¯


    Torrey nodded again.


    ¡®You¡¯re going back into town soon, aren¡¯t you?¡¯ Asher waited for another nod, then continued. ¡®And you¡¯re coming back here later?¡¯


    Another nod.


    ¡®Can you go into your census collection and find a name for me?¡¯ he asked. ¡®There¡¯s something I want to follow up on. I¡¯m looking for the name Derrian. Do you want me to write it down?¡¯


    ¡®Derrian,¡¯ Torrey echoed. ¡®I can remember. Do you want me to ask the other lieutenant?¡¯


    Asher shook his head. ¡®She¡¯s probably got a thousand tasks to do. Though if one of the constables is willing to help you out, maybe you can ask them.¡¯


    Torrey nodded again. ¡®I¡¯ll see what I can find.¡¯


    ¡®Thank you.¡¯


    Torrey rushed off to speak to an older man packing up a cart, and Asher took a moment to straighten the crutches against his legs. If it was true what the doctor said, and Hadley had died at some point ¨C or was believed to have died ¨C then there was something there to look into. He just hoped it didn¡¯t lead to dragging out old scars for the women who had helped him.


    The inside of the manor was in a state of disarray, nothing like the polished finery of the night he arrived. The flowers in their vases had long wilted, and dust had collected in the cracks of their podiums. The floor was marked with dirt and boot steps, and as he paused by the stairs to catch his breath against the ever-present pain in his leg, a group of men in farmers clothes pushed past him to move upward. A nearby maid was carrying what looked like a collection of herbs and other poultices, and when Asher motioned to help her, she only ducked around him and continued across the foyer.


    Asher hoped the room he¡¯d been assigned wasn¡¯t on the second floor.


    He knew where the Library was at least. The archway directly across from the dining hall held a drawing room filled with stuffy, ornate furniture, made stifling by a fireplace that was crackling away in the middle of the room. A lone woman sat by the bar, staring blankly at the wall of wines and ales, turning a goblet around in her hand. Asher decided to leave her be and made for the large doors at the other end of the room, which gave way to the Manor library.


    Asher knew far too much about these spaces, considering he had a habit of falling asleep in class as a boy. It was as though the echo of pain from having a cane hit his knuckles over and over had ingrained some of the information, even after all these years. He knew that the libraries in these houses of ruling had started as something personal, the heritage of a royal line and their adventures preserved, but since Burning Gold, they had become something of high-security remains of everything that came before. So much had been destroyed when the mechanics institute had gone up in flames, that what remained in these old houses was all people had to go off. As a result, a lot of it had been expanded to legal documentation, treaties, finance budgets and any other record the King ¨C and by extension each of his brothers ¨C deemed necessary to keep the Kingdom running.


    The Dalvany Manor library was dusty, with a low roof and a wall of windows along the far side. The shelves scrapped against the ceiling and the documents, the scrolls and the books were thrown in haphazardly, save for the little paper markers along each shelf. The whole thing had the illusion of being shoved in to work against the size of the room, as though forcing anything else into the space would cause the roof and the walls to burst like a balloon.


    Right now, Asher planned to use it to figure out why the Kingdom was dying.


    It wasn¡¯t as though magic and the Gate was a new concept he¡¯d been introduced to yesterday; stories of the Underland were ingrained into the public conscience, and they came from somewhere. The First King of Tarinye had been a witch from what he could remember. A nomadic barbarian who planted a flag and built Valenda, then when people found out he was magic, there was nothing they could do. Until someone assassinated him, that was.


    Asher decided to start there, on the King that had lived and died over five hundred years ago, and found a tome of royal lineage simple enough. Getting it down onto the table that filled the middle of the room was another thing entirely, and it wasn¡¯t until it was fully down did he realise he needed to light a lantern to see it properly.


    As soon as the lantern was lit, Asher shook the sting of fire off the edge of his fingers, and regarded the pages in front of him. Already he had no idea what to look for. If there was a point in history where people disappeared to another place and then came back, he hadn¡¯t heard a single thing about it. Asher didn¡¯t want to believe they had failed before they even began, but he¡¯d never let himself consider that the King wasn¡¯t coming back, that Valenda and all the others were never going to be seen again.


    Navarre wasn¡¯t coming back.


    No. No. Not yet. Asher didn¡¯t know nearly enough about any of this to know whether or not they were going to win against that place, against those monsters, but all Penn did confirm was that witchcraft was a core part of it; he¡¯d been on the right track starting there.


    Asher never knew much about King Sergius of Audoen, only that he was a witch, he was assassinated, and Audoen was what Valenda was called before Tarinye. Asher wasn¡¯t sure what to expect in the records of the first king of Tarinye, but as he glanced over the tome, he couldn¡¯t see anything out of the ordinary. The fortress that would become Valenda was built, rival tribes were fended off, treaties were decided ¨C one of them being the King¡¯s brother betrothed to the landowners of what was now Fanmaryh and Telkesi.


    Except one battle that had long faded from the page. Or erased.


    Asher frowned, and considered the other books around him. With how recent the last war had been, there had to be all kinds of records on everything from battle strategy to chain of command.


    The lull of research quickly claimed him as he checked every record that could have even the smallest connection to the battles of the Kingdom¡¯s early days. He was surprised to see how many of these records came back to witchcraft. Prosecuted heavily through the reign of the second, made only a prison offence with the third, with hanging reintroduced under the fifth. Asher knew no-one liked the King before the current one, and it didn¡¯t surprise him to see that was the one who decided witches should hang, but it did surprise him to see it so recent. They were only on the sixth generation now; there could still be elderly royals who remembered the time before.


    Though with how things could play out, they might see the Seventh King in Asher¡¯s lifetime. He didn¡¯t know who would take the role. He remembered Navarre commenting something similar, that the Duke of Fanmaryh was next, but Lord Barque seemed most available. Great Three Below should wake if it turned out to be his Uncle Henri.


    Words started blurring together when he found himself looking through the royal lineage. It didn¡¯t help that the current succession was a mess. The Night of Five Princes saw the King¡¯s five sons ¨C all born to different women with their mother¡¯s names ¨C murder the King and take the throne. The oldest remained, while each brother took lordship of the four regions. How it didn¡¯t turn into tyranny and backstabbing, Asher didn¡¯t know, but he was getting distracted.

 Chapter 9.2 - Memories of Grey Lung

    He didn¡¯t notice falling asleep until a gentle hand gripped his shoulder and shook it. It pulled at a haze that seemingly appeared over his brain, and he blinked, seeing only the table and the books through the smear of his eyelids.


    ¡®Ashy?¡¯ Evelyn¡¯s voice was a soft breath against his ear. ¡®C¡¯mon sweetie, you need sleep.¡¯


    Sleep. He had fallen asleep. He turned his head and saw his aunt¡¯s face hanging over him, which made him jump, tiredness evaporating as quickly as he had noticed. Evelyn jumped back. The windows were pitch black, and the lantern on the table was spluttering, struggling against it¡¯s last puffs of gas. Asher rubbed at his eyes. ¡®What time is it?¡¯


    ¡®Just after two,¡¯ Evelyn said. ¡®Come on, the maids have prepared your room.¡¯


    Asher shook his head. Now that he was awake he wasn¡¯t going back to sleep. ¡®Are you just getting in?¡¯


    ¡®I just finished up, yes,¡¯ Evelyn said. ¡®You¡¯re drooling on the records.¡¯


    Asher noticed a dark, wet stain across the parchment where his head had been, and he hastily dabbed at it with his sleeve. It didn¡¯t clear.


    Evelyn produced a large envelope, placing it down over the mark as though to hide it. ¡®There was a young girl here before, she said to give you that,¡¯ she said. ¡®You needed some information from the archives?¡¯


    ¡®Uh, yeah.¡¯ Asher shook the last of the sleep from his brain, and pulled the envelope open. ¡®Missing persons,¡¯ he lied. ¡®I want to see if this goes back further.¡¯


    ¡®You¡¯re going to find them, aren¡¯t you?¡¯ Evelyn sounded desperate, and Asher turned to meet her eye. He hadn¡¯t asked about how she was doing after what Henri had done ¨C though he hadn¡¯t had much of a chance ¨C and now all he could see was sadness in her eyes.


    ¡®I¡¯ll try,¡¯ he said. ¡®Are you doing okay?¡¯


    ¡®All this work has kept me busy,¡¯ she said. She then sighed. ¡®I¡¯ll be honest, Ashy, I don¡¯t know what to make of¡­ everything that¡¯s developed. It¡¯s not like I¡¯ll get anything from Henri. Part of me has accepted I¡¯ll probably never see him again.¡¯


    There was that feeling again, that there was no reversing any of this. Whatever he was looking at, it was something for the very books covered in his slobber, and not some experiment that could wave it away. He couldn¡¯t make himself believe it though. Navarre was coming back. ¡®Would you be okay with that?¡¯ Asher asked. ¡®Never seeing him again?¡¯


    ¡®Well, it¡¯s really not up to me, is it?¡¯ Evelyn said. She absently tugged at one of the books. ¡®I never married him for love. You know that, right? I married him for the security, for the comfort and the safety. Before you were born, things were very different. They don¡¯t talk about it. I don¡¯t think any old fool wants to talk about it, but war coming to the mainland was a very real thing. I just wanted to look out for myself, and Henri knew that. Still¡­ I thought we were pretending to be happy in those early days. I tried to be at least.¡¯


    ¡®Do you really want to talk about this?¡¯ Asher asked. He knew if she continued it would go into a heavy subject, and he wasn¡¯t sure if he was in the right mind to take it in.


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    ¡®I think we won¡¯t get time outside of this,¡¯ Evelyn said. ¡®I just want you to understand. I tried my hardest to have a boy of my own. A sweet little thing who could grow up to be¡­ well, to be just like you. I want us to have a relationship, Ashy. I don¡¯t want you to hate me.¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t hate you,¡¯ Asher mumbled.


    Evelyn gave a dry laugh. ¡®I hated your mother. When we first met, I mean. I think I saw myself in her. I saw a woman who would take my dear Willy for his status and his power. A simple dock-woman who wanted a chance to stand next to the King. I only told Wilhelm that because I was worried. I didn¡¯t want him getting hurt.¡¯


    Asher swallowed. He half expected her to switch to her usual tirade, but the energy never came. The situation around them had muted her. ¡®I never met father, you know that,¡¯ he said. ¡®But I know my mother loved him.¡¯


    ¡®And I believe you, I suppose,¡¯ Evelyn said. ¡®Not much else to do there. All I know is that when I heard about you, a sweet little cherub so happy and rosy and healthy, I was so happy. But Willy told me to never return to Fanmaryh. I wasn¡¯t welcome.¡¯


    Asher blinked, and straightened in his chair. ¡®Father was the one who barred you?¡¯


    ¡®He wouldn¡¯t be forced to chose between me and Tasa,¡¯ Evelyn said. ¡®With you, the choice would always be the same, and I refused to admit I was wrong to worry after him. When I reached out to your mother¡­ I¡¯m surprised you convinced her to let you go to Jordueax.¡¯


    ¡®It was her idea,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®She said if I stayed, I would only be a dock worker like her, but if I took the offer, I¡¯d have the choice to go back later.¡¯


    ¡®I see,¡¯ Evelyn said. ¡®Did you even want to ¡ª¡¯


    ¡®No.¡¯


    Evelyn flinched, and all at once it came rushing back. He had only been a boy, alone and on the other side of the Kingdom. He had no friends. Even Navarre at that point was an older boy who scared him. It was then he had learned to hate Evelyn, the woman he had met once, and the few letters he¡¯d received from her went unanswered.


    ¡®I know you still don¡¯t forgive me,¡¯ Evelyn mumbled. ¡®But I only wanted you to have a chance. You could be powerful, smart, you could have the entire Kingdom.¡¯


    ¡®That wasn¡¯t it,¡¯ Asher mumbled. He didn¡¯t want to say it. Though she had put her emotions out, and she probably deserved to know the truth of his. ¡®I don¡¯t hate you, Evelyn. I didn¡¯t turn away because I didn¡¯t want to be at that school.¡¯


    Evelyn opened her mouth to respond, but Asher got to his feet, twisting around to sit on the table so he was level with her. She snapped her mouth shut again.


    ¡®You remember Grey Lung, don¡¯t you?¡¯ he asked her. ¡®The pandemic that followed the war. So many of the boys in that place would laugh it off, because it came from Telkesi. It came from that place, and all the people who arrived from there were getting it because they deserved to get it. They came and brought their disease with them, and they deserved to die.¡¯ Just saying it made him feel sick to the stomach. Who would get the blame for what was happening now? Someone would; history had a bad habit of foreshadowing.


    ¡®You know that¡¯s not true,¡¯ Evelyn mumbled. ¡®I know it¡¯s not true. A lot of people came down with it.¡¯


    ¡®I was fourteen, I didn¡¯t know that,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®All I knew was that I was scared. I had¡­ a really bad feeling, and I just wanted to go home and make sure mother was alright. I finally got a note to the dean, and you said no.¡¯


    ¡®Ashy, I didn¡¯t know¡­¡¯


    ¡®You said no,¡¯ Asher pressed. ¡®Because you were the one he asked. Because you were my legal guardian. That was how I found out she had already died. That¡¯s how I learned my mother had died.¡¯


    Evelyn¡¯s lips thinned into a line.


    ¡®I don¡¯t hate you,¡¯ Asher said. He sighed. He didn¡¯t want to talk about this. He didn¡¯t want to go through all of this now, just because the woman responsible ¨C even if she wasn¡¯t complicit ¨C had her own ghosts for Asher to hold. He shouldn¡¯t have said anything. He needed to go back to work.


    Evelyn reached out to place a hand on his shoulder, but Asher got up from the table and dropped back into the seat. His leg had gone stiff from how it had been sitting for so long. She stayed there for a moment, watching him, then she made to touch his shoulder again before thinking better and pulling away.


    She stopped in the doorway, her silhouette casting a long shadow across the library. ¡®I¡¯m sorry, Asher,¡¯ she mumbled. ¡®I¡¯m sorry for all of it.¡¯ She sucked in a deep breath, standing still for a pregnant silence. ¡®You¡¯re all I have left now.¡¯

 Chapter 10.1 - The Missing Record

    Hadley Derrian vanished without a trace a year ago. Asher struggled to connect the information in the envelope to the woman in the Underlands with the crows. A human being who had lived in this Kingdom, the same as any other, and not some strange ghostly witch that had pulled Asher back from the brink of death. She had run a dovecot, even though no-one really used carrier pigeons anymore, and she had a husband who still lived on the edge of Dalvany.


    Things were calming down throughout the manor. People still came in and out, and activity upstairs told him there were more than a few people staying in the makeshift hostel, but he could move around without getting in peoples way. As he went through more notes, searching for the reason for the missing record ¨C a thorn wedged into his brain that he couldn¡¯t pull free ¨C he exercised his ankle as the doctor ordered, easing his foot back and forth to work the joint. He found it ached just as much when he stood on it as it did when he lifted it, so he decided to try leaning on it just a little.


    There was nothing on the missing parts of the first King. Nothing on what was erased, or how long that section of history was. Nothing on how him being a witch reflected on his reign, or what it changed.


    Nothing to go on.


    The lie he had given to Evelyn did have weight though. He needed to look into any other strange phenomena connected to this at some point, and find out if it started with Hadley, or went back further. The case listed her as missing ¨C not dead like the doctor had described ¨C and she was in the Underlands, so it was a place to start. At some point he had to go back to town hall and look at older cases.


    The First King wasn¡¯t the only empty record though. He tried to break the tedium by looking into the other famous cases of witchcraft. The Third King had been the one to bar future executions for Witchcraft, but Asher found the same gaps, the same lack of information. He thought he had found a stroke of luck when he discovered a book specifically on the Third King and the ¡°Quiet Era.¡± When he opened it, he noted that entire pages had been torn out.


    Had witchcraft become so taboo that even history was being censored?


    Were they really doomed without it?


    He made for the front of the manor to see if anyone was heading back into town so he could check the Town Hall himself, when the booming voice of Magnus Barque pulled him from his train of thought. The man¡¯s voice wasn¡¯t loud, but it was forceful, pulling at the gravity. He sat in the drawing room by the fire, balancing a chalice of wine in his hand. Norrah stood on the other side of the fireplace, standing straight with her hands locked behind her back as she gazed at the fire.


    ¡®¡­ I¡¯m not sure if you¡¯re a natural pessimist or being realistic,¡¯ Norrah was saying. ¡®Though I am concerned. I know you are the next available option.¡¯


    ¡®You are exhausted,¡¯ Lord Barque said. ¡®I see what you have been doing for this town, and that is why I come to you first. I thought out of anyone, you would understand most of all how much things have changed.¡¯


    ¡®No, I understand perfectly,¡¯ Norrah said. ¡®Though I won¡¯t dismiss the Lady Tremboui and all she¡¯s done here.¡¯


    ¡®Of course not,¡¯ Lord Barque said. ¡®But Lady Tremboui has already renounced her position, which is why I come to you. More than anything we need to re-establish a status quo. It¡¯s been a month; Even if the King were to return, we¡¯re seeing a future where it might be a while yet.¡¯


    ¡®I have my suspicions about the missing returning at all,¡¯ Norrah said. ¡®My main worry is whether or not we can handle the social strain of crowning a new King. There are people who are still holding out hope that the time before would return, and some of them are only holding on because of it.¡¯


    Magnus leaned back in his chair. ¡®If Lord Tremboui would return, would you go back to Euthria?¡¯


    ¡®Yes,¡¯ Norrah said. ¡®I did have correspondents down there before I left.¡¯ She turned to stare at Magnus. ¡®I am not suggesting that we never install a new system of leadership, only that it¡¯s not the time. Things are beginning to calm down, and once that becomes constant, I will be behind¡ª Hello, Lieutenant.¡¯


    Asher¡¯s face flushed with heat as both of them turned to him, and he gave a quick salute. ¡®I don¡¯t mean to intrude,¡¯ he said. ¡®I heard a noise.¡¯


    ¡®We¡¯re alright in here,¡¯ Lord Barque said. ¡®You¡¯re standing.¡¯


    Asher gestured to the crutches still hooked under his arms. ¡®Slow progress, sir.¡¯


    ¡®I hope you¡¯re not listening in on anything, Lord Barque said. ¡®Though you¡¯ve come here for something. What is it?¡¯


    Asher shifted. Under the Lord¡¯s cold gaze, he felt almost as though it was an interrogation. He wondered if Norrah¡¯s suspicions had been voiced to anyone else. ¡®Nothing immediate, sir. I plan to head back into Dalvany town to follow up a few things is all.¡¯


    ¡®Evelyn said you were asking after old cases,¡¯ Norrah said. ¡®Have you made progress in anything?¡¯


    Asher shook his head. ¡®I¡¯ve got a few personal threads to chase up, but otherwise I need to get back out with the people.¡¯


    ¡®I hope these threads are not more important than the situation at hand,¡¯ Lord Barque said.


    Asher bit down on his lip. The lie wasn¡¯t completely a lie anymore, but it still felt weird to bring it up. ¡®I¡¯m searching to see if this started with Valenda,¡¯ he said. ¡®Missing persons, strange happenings. I think if we can trace it back to a point of origin, then maybe we can figure out how it happened at all.¡¯


    ¡®Interesting theory,¡¯ Lord Barque said. ¡®How far back have you gone?¡¯


    Asher held up the envelope still hooked under his arm. ¡®About a year so far.¡¯


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    ¡®If you could take some time to help with the census, I¡¯d appreciate it,¡¯ Norrah said. ¡®We don¡¯t have exact numbers still, and the volunteers are struggling.¡¯


    Asher nodded. ¡®I¡¯d like to talk to a few as well, since I¡¯ve missed quite a bit.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯d prefer you didn¡¯t,¡¯ Magnus Barque said.


    Asher flinched.


    ¡®Don¡¯t take my words wrong, Lieutenant,¡¯ Lord Barque said. ¡®You¡¯re still working hard, and I appreciate your efforts. I cannot imagine the stress you¡¯ve been under, but that stress is why I want you only helping the volunteers for the moment.¡¯


    Asher nodded, though the words stung. This was how it started. If his leg didn¡¯t heal properly, then he would never go back to being a Lieutenant.


    ¡®This isn¡¯t permanent,¡¯ Lord Barque continued. ¡®But you¡¯ve been on orders to rest, and we still need hands in town. I think it best that you step away from our end until you heal. There¡¯s also¡ª¡¯


    Norrah made a noise, cutting off the words, and Lord Barque threw a hard look at her. He got to his feet and rested his chalice on the fireplace.


    ¡®Your cousin wants to be gentle, but I will put it to you plainly,¡¯ Lord Barque said. ¡®The others that came back have not been of clear mind. I need to know you¡¯re sane if you¡¯re going to continue.¡¯


    ¡®I understand, sir,¡¯ Asher said. That part at least, he couldn¡¯t complain about. ¡®I don¡¯t entirely trust myself either.¡¯


    There were other things he could do still, on that front. He could still try to find the missing information from the library, and he had Penn. He could track down Hadley¡¯s husband, if she was still around.


    That was the positive aspect to all of this at least. He had no intention of stopping, and as long as he kept going, it probably didn¡¯t matter if he was working with the Guard or with the nobles.


    ¡®Take care of yourself, Lieutenant,¡¯ Lord Barque said. ¡®You have a lot of potential in you. I won¡¯t see it wasted by such chaos.¡¯


    Asher nodded, his mind blanking at the words. The compliment seemed more out of place than anything Evelyn had done since he¡¯d gotten back. He remembered what Navarre had told him, that Lord Barque saw his history in Beau Jordeaux and his father¡¯s legacy more than anything. He wondered how much he would ruin that by working against this man¡¯s orders.


    ¡®Thank you, sir.¡¯ Asher gave another quick salute. ¡®I¡¯m sorry to have bothered you. I¡¯ll leave you to it.¡¯


    He hobbled back down the hall, barely making it past the foyer stairs before footsteps echoed out behind him. He suspected it was Norrah, and turned to see her rushing to catch up with him. Asher dropped down onto the stairs, thankful for an excuse to sit for a minute.


    ¡®Was there something else?¡¯ he asked her.


    ¡®I suppose that depends on whether you¡¯re open to a conversation,¡¯ Norrah said. ¡®What Lord Barque was trying to say is that he is re-establishing the Royal Court, and you won¡¯t be on it.¡¯


    ¡®I got that,¡¯ Asher said. He wondered if she expected him to be upset about it. It probably hadn¡¯t come up as a point of conversation.


    ¡®Though if I¡¯m establishing my own advisors, I would very much consider you, Lieutenant,¡¯ Norrah said. ¡®I would. Just to emphasise that point.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯m not really any good at all the politics stuff,¡¯ Asher mumbled.


    ¡®I¡¯m not suggesting you be my right hand,¡¯ Norrah said. ¡®Only that I want to consider your opinions, to have you act as a confidant. Lord Barque wants to dismiss you, and I believe you¡¯re one of the only people I can trust in this place.¡¯


    ¡®Oh.¡¯ Asher felt a pang of guilt, though it was nice to know that he hadn¡¯t completely destroyed his credibility in the madness.


    ¡®I want to trust you, Asher,¡¯ Norrah said. ¡®I need a reason to trust you. You were lying when you said you were looking into missing persons, weren¡¯t you? You said it the same way you told me you remember nothing.¡¯


    Asher flinched. ¡®It wasn¡¯t a lie,¡¯ he pressed. He passed her the envelope. ¡®I am looking into missing persons.¡¯ He sighed. ¡®I just have a few other threads to follow as well.¡¯


    Norrah flipped the folder open and frowned.


    ¡®The name came up as a weird case while I was recovering, so I asked for that specifically. I need to go to the Town Hall for more recent records. I swear, I¡¯m not being dishonest.¡¯


    Norrah didn¡¯t glance up from the papers, staring at them intently. ¡®There was an investigation on this one,¡¯ she said.


    Asher had noticed that, but it was hard to care when he knew exactly where she was. ¡®All I can say is that she disappeared without a trace, and it was over a year ago. It might be nothing, but I do want to check in with the husband to see if it means anything.¡¯


    ¡®Alright, I stand corrected,¡¯ Norrah said. She handed the folder back to him. Asher fiddled with the tie that would seal the clasp. He knew what she would ask next, and she straightened, as if censing it. ¡®What else are you looking into exactly.¡¯


    She stared at him, and Asher wondered just how dishonest he could be before she really began to call him out on it. The fact that she had already showed she could read him easier then she had claimed to back in the market. Maybe that had been the plan. ¡®Honestly?¡¯ he asked her. ¡®Witchcraft.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯m going to need you to elaborate,¡¯ Norrah said.


    ¡®I know magic isn¡¯t real,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®You know magic isn¡¯t real, but these stories came from somewhere. If I can connect something that was waved away as magic to whatever is happening here¡­ I don¡¯t know, I thought it might lead to something.¡¯


    Norrah blinked. ¡®I hadn¡¯t considered that. Why is it such a secret?¡¯


    ¡®Because witchcraft is still taboo here,¡¯ Asher pointed out. ¡®If people don¡¯t point fingers at me, they¡¯re going to point them at someone, and people around here are too happy to see others hang.¡¯


    Norrah¡¯s face tightened.


    ¡®There¡¯s something else too,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®Some of the records are missing. Entire pages.¡¯


    ¡®I see,¡¯ Norrah said. ¡®Do you think it¡¯s foul play?¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t know enough to say,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®Like I said, it¡¯s a taboo. It could be that people are just afraid.¡¯


    Norrah shifted, glancing back towards the drawing room. ¡®Thank you for telling me,¡¯ she said. ¡®But I have my doubts about the connections to old stories. If I need you, I will pull you away.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯m okay with that,¡¯ Asher said. He gestured to his leg, turning his crutch around in his hand. ¡®As long as I¡¯m not running and jumping.¡¯


    Norrah¡¯s stare could cut glass. ¡®I¡¯ll be sure to keep that in mind.¡¯


    She turned and moved back into the drawing room, leaving Asher mulling over the whole thing. He didn¡¯t know Norrah well enough to know if she¡¯d keep it all to herself, but at least if she did talk to anyone, he had enough ground in the story to cover up what he did know. If Lord Barque doubted his sanity, him revealing that he could see spirits and that magic was real wasn¡¯t going to help his case.


    The spirits were still everywhere, of course. They weren¡¯t as frequent as they were outside, but they caught his eye all the same. A cobweb in the corner that seemed to move and reach for new places to grab with the softest touches. Lines of light traced through the lines if the floor. The garden outside was more alive, the bushes and the trees and the grass all caught in their own silent symphony, so blended with the bizarre that Asher couldn¡¯t tell the real from the invisible.

 Chapter 10.2 - The Length of History

    Asher believed he had found a way to ignore the flashiest of it all. He hoped he had anyway, though it was still strange to see people walking around oblivious to it all. Those same bubble-like lights from the square rose from the ground at random intervals, and as the volunteers walked through them, they exploded at the contact, a burst of fire sweeping out through the air before vanishing. Nobody so much as blinked. As he made his way out the front door, he watched as lines of light shot from the ground, escaping from stones kicked around by boots and sailing high into the air.


    ¡®Lieutenant!¡¯ Clyde stood by one of the carts in the driveway, fixing ropes tied to the back. A woman stood with him, a mousy thing with a large bow on her collar and spectacles balanced on her nose. Asher waved in greeting, and started working his way down the stairs. Thankfully, Clyde rushed to meet him.


    ¡®We haven¡¯t caught up since before¡­ well, before Dalvany,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®I hope things are going better on your end.¡¯


    Clyde only shrugged. ¡®Who really can tell at this point? How¡¯s your leg?¡¯


    ¡®Healing,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®Is something wrong?¡¯


    ¡®Not exactly,¡¯ Clyde said. ¡®I know you were asking for some studious types to look at the ring in Valenda. We got a handful come up from Fanmaryh, and we¡¯re heading up. Figured we¡¯d extend the invitation.¡¯


    ¡®I appreciate that,¡¯ Asher said. Though his leg ached at the thought of travelling all the way out there, with a demand to be moving around and nowhere to rest if that ache turned to pain. He did also really need to go to the Town Hall, especially if records were going to be hard to come by. Still, this wasn¡¯t something he could turn away from.


    ¡®Do you think you can keep up with us?¡¯ Clyde asked.


    Asher grimaced. He would not let this injury end his career. He would not let this beat him. ¡®I¡¯ll be slow, but I¡¯ll be alright.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯ll take your word for it,¡¯ Clyde said. ¡®Come on then.¡¯


    Asher couldn¡¯t tell if the people blocking the road to Valenda were different from the ones that had stood there the first day he arrived. He hoped there was at least some rotation. Though, the structure hadn¡¯t changed; a dozen or so farmhands and other workers were standing around a set of carts that had been parked and abandoned in a way to block the road completely. As the tired, boxy mule pulled Clyde¡¯s cart up, two of the makeshift-guards stepped forward, and Asher realised they weren¡¯t guards at all. The man wore a moth-eaten vest and his boots were shining and stiff and new. Like the woman, he had spectacles balancing on his nose. The second was far more androgenous, with short-cropped black hair and a travellers cloak too thick for such a mild day.


    The horse came to a stop, then scuffed its hooves against the ground, huffing in frustration. Like at the manor, the stones kicked loose sent bursts of light up into the air, shooting up high enough to disappear into the clouds. The fog had reappeared too, bleeding through the trees and curling around the roots like reaching, ghostly fingers. Each time a tendril disappeared under the ground, white smoke bled out of the cracks in the bark and evaporated.


    ¡®¡­ they each came up from Fanmaryh¡¯s expedition society.¡¯ Clyde¡¯s words cut through his thoughts, and Asher realised with a start that he¡¯d been introduced to the newcomers and had completely missed their name. ¡®They¡¯ve been working on the habitability of Telkesi for a few years, but¡­¡¯ he pointed to the woman ¡®we¡¯ve got the leading botanist¡­¡¯ he pointed to the man, ¡®esteemed doctor of toxicology¡­¡¯ he gave a nod to the androgynous friend, ¡®and recent master geologist at Belle Delejoius.¡¯ Clyde clapped Asher hard on the shoulder. ¡®This is Lieutenant Wulverman.¡¯


    ¡®Pleasure,¡¯ Asher mumbled. He hoped there was another chance to ask their names later. ¡®Do we need a toxicologist?¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯ve got that a few times,¡¯ the man said. ¡®I¡¯m a precaution more than anything.¡¯


    ¡®We couldn¡¯t identify the plants,¡¯ the woman said. ¡®That¡¯s why we came out here to get more information. If there are any chemicals we haven¡¯t spotted yet, there¡¯s only going to be more trouble.¡¯


    ¡®That makes sense,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®I didn¡¯t mean to sound rude, I¡ª¡¯


    ¡®It¡¯s alright,¡¯ the toxicologist said. ¡®I¡¯m just glad Clyde didn¡¯t introduce me as a poison expert.¡¯


    He cracked a smile, and Asher forced one back. He didn¡¯t entirely get it, but now wasn¡¯t the time.


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    The ride up to Valenda was quiet, which Asher was grateful for. He found himself watching the odd lights and shadows that danced around the trees. He wondered about Penn, wherever he went, and his strange, inhuman eyes made of fire.


    The cart they rode in contained him, the botanist and geologist, and Clyde. Enough people that it was cosy, but not so much that he was pressing into the others and becoming far too aware of unavoidable touching. Another cart pulled along behind them, rattling out at a different beat to their own, blurring the noise of the horses and the tired axels into white noise.


    ¡®You didn¡¯t get to run between the town and the rich toffs after all, huh?¡¯ Clyde asked him. ¡®I¡¯m glad your back now.¡¯


    ¡®Oh¡­ thanks.¡¯ Asher didn¡¯t know if that was a compliment or not. ¡®Um¡­ how¡¯s your friend going?¡¯


    Clyde¡¯s face fell. He opened his mouth to reply, then shook his head.


    Asher¡¯s stomach churned. ¡®I¡¯m so sorry.¡¯


    ¡®It was inevitable after a point,¡¯ Clyde said. ¡®I just hope no-one else has to deal with that.¡¯


    ¡®I hope we¡¯ve seen the worst of it,¡¯ Asher mumbled. ¡®Lord Barque is going forward as though we have.¡¯


    Clyde snorted. ¡®That dick hasn¡¯t stepped out of the manor since it all started,¡¯ he said. ¡®He doesn¡¯t know shit about what¡¯s going on out here. Probably just wants an excuse to be in charge.¡¯


    ¡®He is next in line,¡¯ Asher pointed out. ¡®Though I don¡¯t know enough about what¡¯s going on to form an opinion.¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t usually like you ¡°mutual ground¡± types,¡¯ Clyde said. ¡®But you¡¯re trying to look into the bigger picture so I¡¯ll let it slide.¡¯


    Asher kept his face even. ¡®Is there something I should know about?¡¯


    ¡®Just an opinion,¡¯ Clyde said. ¡®Got a lot of people trying to make things go back to the way they were, and I don¡¯t agree. People aren¡¯t coming back. The city ain¡¯t coming back. Nothing good has come from this, but it¡¯s a good time to start over. Not undo it.¡¯


    Asher swallowed. They aren¡¯t coming back. He had chosen not to think about any of that. He still didn¡¯t want to think about it. ¡®I don¡¯t know what¡¯s going on with the politics,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®But I can¡¯t believe that.¡¯ He shifted, suddenly aware of the eyes on him, watching him. ¡®Someone I care about is in there. I¡­ can¡¯t stop.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯ve said my piece,¡¯ Clyde said. ¡®But I admire the push.¡¯


    ¡®Agree to disagree,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®But either way, I still need to figure out what made it all happen in the first place.¡¯


    ¡®Anything so far?¡¯


    Asher shook his head. Clyde probably didn¡¯t need to know about magic or spirits or missing records. ¡®If we¡¯re going back to Valenda, I¡¯d like another look at the field. I¡¯m trying to draw a connection between the areas of affect. I know Valenda was a field when it was first settled, but the other two¡­¡¯ He shrugged.


    ¡®Are there others besides Dalvany?¡¯ the botanist asked.


    ¡®There was a volcanic ring out on the farms,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®But I don¡¯t think Tarinye ever had a volcano. Or a beach in Dalvany.¡¯


    ¡®That¡¯s¡­¡¯ The geologist leaned forward. ¡®Not entirely true.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯ll take your expertise on the matter,¡¯ Asher said.


    ¡®You¡¯d have to go back a lot further than Valenda being settled,¡¯ the geologist said. ¡®But both are possible at some point in time. Valenda was a moorland for tens of thousands of years, and there¡¯s evidence to suggest that two-hundred thousand years ago, the sea level was high enough that the coastline¡­ it could have been this far up, but I¡¯d have to look into it. As for volcanoes¡­ well it¡¯s just a theory, and it¡¯s not based on any kind of hard evidence, but there is a study that claims everything was a volcano at one point. It¡¯s how the land formed from water. But that¡¯s going back millions of years, and finding ways to prove it is not easy. So I guess if you¡¯re looking into what used to be, it could be possible.¡¯


    Asher considered the words. Theory was possible when impossible things were here, but there wasn¡¯t any real connection to any of the sites aside from the fact that it was possible. If it was around the same time, then Dalvany being a coastline wouldn¡¯t match with Valenda being a field. There wasn¡¯t anything to show why Valenda had returned to as early as five hundred years ago and the Golharie farm had gone back millions of years.


    ¡®I could look into it more?¡¯ the geologist said. ¡®Though I¡¯d need to get permission to see the third place if it¡¯s on private property.¡¯


    Aria and Gershwin would probably wish they¡¯d left him in the field if he sent half the town to their door. ¡®Maybe stick with what you need to do first,¡¯ he said. ¡®If something comes up, I¡¯ll ask after it.¡¯


    The others in the cart continued to watch him, and a new dread fell over Asher. These people would only go so far if they couldn¡¯t see the spirits. Most of them didn¡¯t even believe in magic from what he could tell, and even if they did, the nooses would be the first thing they thought of. Even Asher¡¯s leads so far had only been Penn and Hadley, and if he hadn¡¯t fallen into the Underlands, he would have no idea where to go.


    Everyone here was at a disadvantage, and Asher didn¡¯t know how to tell them what had really happened. How did he explain things without sounding mad? Not to mention, there was no way to organise anyone around something invisible. Maybe they were doomed.


    Though, Asher didn¡¯t know enough yet, and that was part of the problem. If he understood any of this more than he did, then maybe there was a way to convince everyone else. At least, there had to be a chance.

 Chapter 10.3 - What Became of the City

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 Chapter 11.1 - The Arch on the Edge of the World

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 Chapter 11.2 - The Living Stones

    Pillars of white flame burst to life on either side of him, flaring upward close enough to scorch his nose, lining the path forward as though pulling him forward in grand welcome. Unlike the flame Penn held, these burned hot and angry, an anger Asher could feel beating against his chest, the kind that simmered as it wound up, ready to explode at any moment. Asher staggered back, crashing into Penn who rushed up behind him. The other man thrust his arm out and yelled in that strange language, but the pillars didn¡¯t settle.


    ¡®What¡¯s wrong?¡¯ Asher asked.


    Penn¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡®They¡¯re still here.¡¯


    ¡®Who¡ª¡¯


    ¡®Hello, Asher.¡¯


    Something cold and horrible wrapped around Asher¡¯s chest and squeezed. Vertigo took hold as the stones grew taller around him, or he was growing smaller. The source of the voice approached from around a corner, stepping onto the path as though it was on an evening stroll. The Alchemist.


    The creature stood straighter than he had in the market, and the pock-marked bald spots were now covered in a thick head of white hair. That same bemused smile spread across his face. All at once Asher was back in the market, back in that awful world, and the fear of death swallowed him. It was finality, it was the flash before everything went black, it was the moment before a glass hit stone and shattered. He could see it, he could feel it, and fear dug deep into every one of his muscles and held firm.


    ¡®Do not let him trick you,¡¯ Penn hissed in his ear.


    ¡®Hello,¡¯ the Alchemist tilted his head to take in Penn. ¡®I knew you¡¯d come back. Jaliti debne Nakati. You are the weakest of your line for a long time.¡¯


    Penn flinched. ¡®You do not speak the words.¡¯


    The Alchemist chuckled. ¡®Are you ordering me, little Jaliti? Or perhaps my pronunciation was wrong. Why don¡¯t you show me how it¡¯s done?¡¯


    Penn raised his hand again, but Asher caught it, forcing it back down. ¡®He¡¯s baiting you,¡¯ he hissed.


    ¡®Very good, Asher,¡¯ the Alchemist said. ¡®Asher. Leiutenant. So many names. Are you the witch? The only one left. How sad for you.¡¯


    Penn lifted his hand again, and when Asher grabbed it, Penn shoved him to the side.


    ¡®He is making us wait,¡¯ Penn hissed.


    ¡®You are so tragic, little one,¡¯ the Alchemist said. ¡®No crown, no home, and after all this time in this world, you haven¡¯t learned the language.¡¯ His grin widened, welts of blood breaking across his cheeks as pointed teeth fought through. ¡®The word is ¡°stalling.¡±¡¯


    Penn shouted loud and angry, and the pillars of flame shot sideways, enveloping the space where the Alchemist no longer was. Asher turned as a large chunk of rock broke from the slope behind them and crashed into the ground.


    It then stood up. The rocks didn¡¯t take any shape of arms and legs, instead they stayed as a lump of fallen rock, but it rose to a height taller than the craggy cliffs around it and when the largest rock twisted around, two holes punctured the middle and blinked.


    Asher¡¯s legs froze as the monster stared at them both. He had no weapons, again. He had no way to get away from it, again. He only had the single crutch, and he was down one leg. He was going to die. All over again, he was caught like a mouse in a trap.


    The rock monster lunged forward, the smaller rocks around its edges rolling around to move it, a tidal wave of stone about to devour them both. Asher brandished his crutch, but his mind whirled and his body refused to move. He was paralysed against the landslide with eyes.


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    Penn yelled out again, but as he raised his hand, the rock monster lunged at him and Penn¡¯s hand disappeared into a sudden hole of stone, clamping down tight. Asher brought the cane down hard on the creature, but it did nothing. Forcing his body into action as Penn strained to pull free, he jammed the crutch into the same hole that had swallowed the man¡¯s hand and pushed with all the strength he could manage, to pry the stone away. It felt like trying to move the cliffs themselves.


    ¡®Not you.¡¯ The Alchemist¡¯s voice hissed in Asher¡¯s ear as something grabbed his collar and yanked him back. Asher hit the ground, knocking his teeth together and sending a sharp pain through his tailbone. The same force held his coat and dragged him back, pulling him across the ash line and further away from Penn. Penn called out, either to him or the spirits, Asher couldn¡¯t tell. He scrambled to catch hold of something, his nails catching on the hard ground and tearing.


    ¡®We never finished our game, Lieutenant,¡¯ the Alchemist said. ¡®But it¡¯s no fun if you have no leg. I¡¯ll make you a new one. A better one.¡¯


    ¡®Let go of me!¡¯ Asher tried to grab at the hand that grabbed his collar, but the shape wasn¡¯t solid; it came with the sensation of cold water bleeding into his skin. Still, he swatted and pulled, until his head slammed into the ground and the Alchemist vanished again.


    ¡®Dirty boy.¡¯ The Alchemist reappeared in front of him, the corners of his mouth twisted down against the smile in a grotesque anger. ¡®Horrible witch. You won¡¯t stop us. You won¡¯t win alone. You will die here.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯m not afraid of you,¡¯ Asher snapped. He could hear his heart pounding against his chest, and his blood roaring in his ears.


    The Alchemist chuckled. ¡®Humans on their own are so weak, and you aren¡¯t even whole. So many other creatures are built for survival, better, faster, stronger. It¡¯s been a long time since I¡¯ve had a living human to fix up.¡¯


    He¡¯s stalling again. Asher thrust his crutch upwards, catching another tidal wave of stone before it could come down on his head. His crutch held, but his arms exploded with pain, the muscles screaming as the full force of the mountain pushed against him. Asher cried out, but he couldn¡¯t move, not even to release the cramps ripping across his arms. If he let go, it would hit him, but if he stayed, his arms would rip off under the strain.


    ¡®Keep fighting us, soldier witch,¡¯ the Alchemist chided. ¡®You¡¯ll end up behind the Gate and fighting for freedom with us before you can blink. Oh, I can¡¯t wait to pull you apart and remake you.¡¯


    He wasn¡¯t even a witch. He had no way of fighting back in the way this monster was mocking him for. Or could he?


    Use the dust.


    The rocks reared up to attack again, and Asher rolled out of the way as it came down. Pain exploded through his shoulder as it thudded against the ground, pinned in place by the stone. With his hand free, he lashed out towards the pillar of flame, plunging his hand into the white hot line before closing his fist and slamming it into the stone.


    The stone shattered in a burst of white flame.


    The monster roared, loud and deep enough to shake the ground beneath him. Asher screamed with it, but more as a reaction than anything else. His hand screamed as searing pain swallowed it, as though his skin had been flayed off, though he couldn¡¯t see any damage.


    He had just used magic. He was using magic.


    The monster straightened and the two holes that served as eyes fixed on him. Asher fought to catch his breath, then noticed his cane sitting between him and the monster. It was covered in the same dust the rest of him had been.


    The monster lunged, and Asher grabbed his cane and rammed it as hard as he could into the creature¡¯s eye. His aim missed and the crutch splintered in the middle, the half still in his hand thrown to the side as the rest fell to splinters at his feet. With a sound that was half cry and half roar, Asher aimed again, this time hitting true. The splintered wood jabbed into the monster¡¯s eye and sank deep, driving deeper and deeper until Asher had to pull back to save his hand being swallowed with it.


    The stone monster thrashed, rocks thrusting and falling in every direction, with no pattern or reason. The ground shook beneath them, and the largest stone drove into the walls over and over, throwing itself into the cliffs as an impossible roar ripped the air around him. Asher shoved his palms into his ears, but it did little to block it out. Then, with one final lurch, the creature threw itself at the canyon wall and shattered to pieces.


    Silence fell heavy over the air as Asher pulled himself to his feet. His breathing echoed out against the stone impossibly loud, and each breath only scrambled his thoughts further. He had used magic. Penn had been right; he was a witch.


    Penn!

 Chapter 11.3 - When it Started

    Asher tried to run, tried to move his legs faster than his body would allow, but he still felt agonisingly slow in a way that only made the fear gripping his chest stronger. He was a witch. Much like the old stories of people working for the little voices whispering in their ears, demons using puppets to break free, he had gone to their home and come back changed. He was a witch. He would hang by the neck if anyone found out.


    He was a witch.


    Penn was fighting off two of the rock creatures, one of which had swallowed him up to the waist and was dragging him along the ground, while the other beat at his hands and his face, cutting off any gesture or word he tried to throw at them. Asher glanced around desperately, then saw a small rock loose on the craggy wall next to him. He picked it up, thrust it into the flame pillar, then tossed it as hard as he could.


    The rock struck the stone beating at Penn¡¯s face, and exploded like a torch hitting gunpowder. That same roar rocked through the stone walls around him, and Penn pulled his hand free with a shout. With another yell, he caught an ember from the blast in his fist and thrust it at the still thrashing golem. The rock that made it¡¯s face shattered into dust.


    Asher scrambled to find another rock, but the flame pillar next to him flared into his face. He recoiled, and something deep in his gut stabbed into him, making him double over. The same flayed feeling on his hand was now on his face, but also under it, squirming and burning and coming alive. His vision blurred, but he could make out the shape of the second monster exploding into a fountain of dust.


    The creature that stood up from the wreckage wasn¡¯t Penn. It wasn¡¯t the Alchemist either. This one was tall, tall enough that the long, straight, pointed horns on its head stretched beyond the tops of the rock walls around it. Spikes ¨C or perhaps other horns ¨C jutted out from its neck and out from under the mane of thick hair that covered its head and face. Asher¡¯s vision blurred, trying to catch the details, but another wave of pain rocked him. He could only see a silhouette against the still angry flames, a tall, jagged thing with too many limbs and angles, twisted like the knots of an old tree.


    The creature turned to face him. Another wave of pain wracked through Asher¡¯s chest, and his vision blacked entirely as the contents of his stomach came up. He vomited against the ground, heaving against the bile taste in his throat. The burning under his skin faded, but his entire body shook, trapping him on his hands and knees.


    A hand tapped on his shoulder, and Asher jumped, but Penn¡¯s face hovered over his, and he relaxed. ¡®Are they dead?¡¯ his voice came out as a wheeze.


    ¡®Yes,¡¯ Penn said. ¡®Get up.¡¯


    Penn dragged him to his feet with a surprising amount of strength, pulling Asher back down the road, away from the rubble and the bile he¡¯d left behind.


    ¡®They stopped me,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®The spirits. I tried to help and¡ª¡¯


    ¡®You did help,¡¯ Penn said. ¡®You¡¯re too new. Pushed too hard.¡¯


    ¡®So it¡¯s true,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®I really am a witch.¡¯


    ¡®Yes.¡¯


    Witches aren¡¯t real. The little voice in his head still chided him, still made him feel stupid for thinking it. Though, he knew there was more to it. If he wanted to accept this was real ¨C and he needed to ¨C then he needed to know how much anyone else knew; if this was just a story or he had been an idiot for denying it. If he had been so stupid to be the only one, then he could accept that, but if it was only the stories he had heard, then where were the real witches, and who was being hung for what crime?


    ¡®Thank you,¡¯ Penn said. There was a sullenness to his words that Asher hadn¡¯t heard before. He sounded older, worn down.


    ¡®Don¡¯t mention it,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®Besides, they went for me too.¡¯


    ¡®They attacked you because they want me,¡¯ Penn said.


    ¡®Why you?¡¯ Asher said. ¡®Because you¡¯re Nakati?¡¯


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    ¡®Yes.¡¯


    ¡®The Fienta called you something else. Jalti or Jilita or¡­ what does it mean?¡¯


    Penn didn¡¯t answer.


    It was a slow crawl forward. Asher¡¯s leg screamed, only a dead weight that dragged behind him as Penn held him upright. He had a vague memory of leaving the other crutch by the survey tent in Valenda, but the thought of struggling all the way back made him want to curl up and burst into tears. If he really was magic, it would have been handy to have some kind of instant heal trick, though not even Gershwin and Sara had managed that.


    ¡®Can I ask something?¡¯ Asher asked.


    Penn didn¡¯t answer.


    ¡®Do people side with the Fienta?¡¯ Asher asked. ¡®If they can wander into our world, can they¡ª¡¯


    ¡®No,¡¯ Penn said. ¡®Not normally. The Gate stays solid. Nothing comes out. Nothing. Archemislt has stayed here when the Gate closed. That¡¯s why he¡¯s still here¡­¡¯ He sighed. ¡®The Gate is breaking. Too many breaks. No rules anymore.¡¯


    ¡®This started a year ago?¡¯ Asher asked.


    Penn nodded, his face grim.


    ¡®There was a woman in that place,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®With a lot of birds. She stopped me from going after my friend.¡¯


    ¡®I remember.¡¯


    ¡®She disappeared from this town a year ago too.¡¯


    ¡®So?¡¯


    Asher noted that whatever Penn¡¯s title meant, detective wasn¡¯t it. ¡®She wasn¡¯t one of those monsters, and I don¡¯t know why she disappeared but something is off about it. If it¡¯s connected, then maybe there¡¯s something there.¡¯


    ¡®Okay.¡¯


    Thudding echoed out in the distance, a rumbling that made Penn freeze. Asher strained to hear where it was coming from, too aware of how he was hanging off Penn like a sack of potatoes, a dead weight that couldn¡¯t even stand, much less fight anything else off. In a flash he remembered the stories of animals becoming rabid around people, disturbed by the spirits and the monsters. He should have brought one of the rifles.


    The thuds drew closer, and Asher recognised horse hooves. Penn relaxed. ¡®It¡¯s not a Fienta.¡¯ he said.


    The researchers, Asher hoped. Someone would have noticed he was missing by now.


    Shadows fell in long strips along the rock as the spirits dimmed, giving way to the bouncing flame of a torch. The horse that appeared around the corner was a large beast of a thing, black and tall with legs as thick as his torso. Clyde sat on its back, reigns gripped tight in one hand and a flaringly bright lantern in the other. When the light spilled across Asher and Penn, he pulled the great stallion to a halt.


    ¡®Do you have any idea,¡¯ Clyde said, ¡®how much trouble I¡¯d be in if you disappeared again?¡¯


    Asher flinched. ¡®I¡¯m sorry. I¡­ my crutch broke on the rock.¡¯


    Clyde grunted, then glanced Penn up and down. ¡®Who¡¯s your friend?¡¯


    ¡®This is Penn,¡¯ Asher said. His mind whirled for an explaination, but exhaustion chased anything believable away. ¡®He¡¯s with me.¡¯


    Clyde regarded them both, and Asher wondered if the man had grown suspicious, or if he saw something in Penn, when he shrugged and threw his head back. ¡®Get on then. We¡¯ve already set up a camp for the night, but we can make an extra spot for your friend.¡¯


    Strong hands raised him onto the horse, and Penn leapt up easily, sandwiching Asher between the two of them. As Clyde turned his steed around and the creature began to bounce back towards Valenda. Clyde was tense in front of him, and Asher hoped it was exhaustion or strain. He couldn¡¯t be the only one who had been feeling it.


    ¡®You know something the rest of us don¡¯t, don¡¯t you?¡¯ Clyde asked. He didn¡¯t turn as he said it, so Asher couldn¡¯t see his expression. If Penn hadn¡¯t been sitting right against his back, he would have shrunk away.


    ¡®I¡¯m just trying to do my job,¡¯ Asher mumbled.


    Clyde sighed. ¡®You¡¯re a good kid. I know you¡¯re trying, but don¡¯t lie to me.¡¯


    Asher flinched. ¡®What do you want me to say?¡¯


    ¡®Nothing,¡¯ Clyde said. ¡®Not a word. I¡¯ll cover for you tonight and if anyone asks, I¡¯ll vouch for you. But I don¡¯t want you hanging around anymore. Not around me, and not around any of my boys.¡¯


    Did Clyde suspect he was a witch? Asher hoped not, but he couldn¡¯t blame Clyde for being afraid. ¡®You want to protect them,¡¯ Asher mumbled.


    ¡®I don¡¯t think you¡¯re a threat, if that¡¯s what you mean,¡¯ Clyde said. ¡®But I can¡¯t lose anyone else. My boys - my people, I should say - are all good folks. They work hard, and we¡¯re in the crossfire if things go tits up. I won¡¯t have them in the crossfire. So whatever you¡¯re doing, leave me and mine alone.¡¯


    Asher swallowed, though it didn¡¯t ease the lump in his throat. ¡®I¡¯m sorry about your friend,¡¯ he said. ¡®If that means anything.¡¯


    Clyde sighed again. ¡®Yeah. I¡¯m sorry too.¡¯

 Chapter 12.1 - The New Captain

    Yells rang out from Dalvany Square as the cart pulled into the main part of town. Asher eased out of the back a lot slower than he would have liked, and even hobbling as fast as he could around the rickety wooden thing, Clyde and two of his men had already disappeared into a throng of people before he reached the horses. The crowd were gathered around the steps to the town hall, most craning to see what was happening rather than joining in on the shouting. Asher noted a handful of town guard in the mix, and a few in the middle of the commotion. He shoved his way through, though no-one moved to make any path, even as he mumbled to be excused as politely as he could manage.


    The group in the middle of the crowd were yelling over each other, eight of them in total with six of them being held back by uniformed officers. Asher recognised the couriers patch on the main woman¡¯s vest, made more evident by the discarded satchels of letters at her feet. The man being held off her was familiar, but in a way that made Asher¡¯s stomach curl. The volunteer that had pinned Penn that night in the square. He had a knife on his belt, and his hair had been shaved to nothing since.


    ¡®What¡¯s going on here?¡¯ Asher demanded.


    The crowd fell into muted mutterings as the two parties relaxed into the grip of still straining guards. The courier woman blew a stray hair from her face. ¡®You must be the Lieutenant everyone¡¯s fussing over,¡¯ she said.


    ¡®I am,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®Answer the question.¡¯


    ¡®Ask him,¡¯ the woman spat. ¡®We¡¯re just doing our job.¡¯


    ¡®Bullshit you are,¡¯ the bald volunteer said. ¡®What kind of courier service refuses to deliver mail?¡¯


    ¡®We ain¡¯t your messengers,¡¯ the woman snapped. ¡®You take it through our office or bite me!¡¯


    ¡®You stopped at a Sovereignty outpost,¡¯ the man bit back. ¡®What about that ain¡¯t official?¡¯


    ¡®Hold up,¡¯ Asher said. The woman whipped around to glare at him, but Asher held his hand up, causing her to deflate, before turning to the volunteer. ¡®I¡¯m missing details here. What exactly is a Sovereignty outpost?¡¯


    ¡®Thugs and bandits,¡¯ the woman spat. ¡®Holding up the road until they ransack everything and force a tax on travellers.¡¯


    Asher raised an eyebrow.


    ¡®We¡¯re not guardsmen, we¡¯re volunteers,¡¯ the man said. ¡®We got a name to hold some kind of title. We¡¯re patrolling the roads, we set up an outpost. You¡¯re the one taking it personal!¡¯


    ¡®Under who¡¯s authority?¡¯ Asher demanded.


    ¡®That would be mine.¡¯ The crowd parted as a woman stepped through, and though Asher didn¡¯t recognise her, he knew immediately who she was. Captain Olive Delana looked a lot like the paintings he had seen of her sister, though the soon-to-be-duchess of Fanmaryh was often depicted with ruffles and flowers and lace, where Olive was quite the opposite. Like her sister, she had long blonde hair that fell in ringlets down her shoulders, an oval face and large, dark eyes. She wore a travellers coat pinned in an echo of the royal guard uniform, the asymmetrical collar hooked under a clasp that hung a cloak over one shoulder. Her hat had an uneven design also, the wide brim pinned at one side by a feather. At her hips were a pair of revolvers.


    ¡®Captain Delana,¡¯ Asher said. He pounded his fist into his chest in quick salute. ¡®I¡¯d heard you had come up from Fanmaryh.¡¯


    ¡®Lieutenant.¡¯ Olive returned the salute. ¡®It was last minute, I¡¯ll admit, but with my sister claiming the Province I was told to stay out of the way. It seemed you needed help up here. Looks like I was right.¡¯


    She marched over to the volunteer, and after glancing at the couriers, she reached over and unhooked the sheath from the man¡¯s belt, thrusting it at Asher, who caught it awkwardly. ¡®We seem to be having the same conversation over and over,¡¯ she said. ¡®You don¡¯t seem to be listening.¡¯


    ¡®Ma¡¯am, I¡ª¡¯


    ¡®Still talking,¡¯ Olive said. ¡®I let you lot have some level of authority to keep the peace. You were supposed to watch out for wild animals and make sure people aren¡¯t acting up. I couldn¡¯t trust you with that much for five minutes it seems.¡¯


    ¡®What about these outposts on the road?¡¯ Asher asked.


    ¡®I admit, I allowed it,¡¯ Olive said. ¡®Only because it saved the shift changes hauling all the way back into town. It¡¯s a campsite. Nothing more. Explain yourself.¡¯


    ¡®Ma¡¯am, they were talking about magic,¡¯ the man said. ¡®Signs been propping up all over about the Sleepless Three waking up, and we were concerned about witchcraft.¡¯


    Asher flinched, and before he could stop himself, he stepped up next to the Captain. ¡®Right now, I¡¯m going to say it; no. We¡¯re not looking for witches. We¡¯re not making citizens arrests, and we¡¯re not taking authority into our own hands for any reason.¡¯


    ¡®I agree,¡¯ Olive said. ¡®You do not decide these things. In fact, you¡¯re relieved. Permanently. Go home. If I get one more report of you acting out, I¡¯ll throw you in a cell myself.¡¯


    ¡®That goes for anyone,¡¯ Asher rose his voice so it carried. ¡®The minute anyone starts pointing fingers or blaming magic on any of this, I¡¯ll lock them away, since their so quick to decide they know what¡¯s going on.¡¯


    ¡®What is going on?¡¯ someone in the crowd asked. ¡®It¡¯s been over a month!¡¯


    ¡®We know the King is dead!¡¯ someone else cried.


    ¡®Enough!¡¯ Asher snapped. ¡®If you know that much, you know there¡¯s a protocol involved to recreate the chain of command. It takes time. As for all the rest, I can¡¯t exactly do my job if I¡¯m breaking up every squabble that turns you against each other!¡¯


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    The crowd shifted, mutters breaking out. Asher glanced at Olive, who was watching him expectantly, and the moment of anger left as quickly as it had come. He sighed. ¡®I want to know what happened here as much as anyone, believe me.¡¯ He gestured to the crutch hooked under his arm, and his leg balancing against it. ¡®But all you have to do is look to see that it¡¯s not some kind of trick a group of people played. More than anything, we need to be working together.¡¯


    ¡®To what end?¡¯ a voice shouted out. Murmurs of agreement broke out with it.


    ¡®Where¡¯s our captain?¡¯ another voice shouted. ¡®When did we put a tekksie in charge?¡¯


    ¡®None of that,¡¯ Olive growled.


    ¡®No, none of that,¡¯ Asher said. It surprised him that it had taken this long for race to become a part of it. ¡®It¡¯s pretty clear now that whatever happened here, it¡¯s staying for the long term. Nothing is going to happen to turn it back to how it was.¡¯


    ¡®That¡¯s how it happened in the first place!¡¯


    ¡®Did the same thing happen in Valenda?¡¯


    ¡®If it¡¯s not witchcraft than what is it?¡¯


    ¡®My cousin disappeared and said it was the Underlands!¡¯


    ¡®Underlands means witches were targeting us!¡¯


    ¡®Enough!¡¯ Olive shouted.


    ¡®You lot are pathetic, you know that?¡¯ Clyde broke through the crowd, and Asher thought for a terrible second that he too had turned to suspicion, but the man turned on his heel and addressed the crowd. ¡®This ain¡¯t Valenda. This ain¡¯t Ralkauda. We¡¯re the size of a coin compared to them, and we were short on people when we started. If you want answers, put your boots on the ground and help instead of shouting about it!¡¯


    ¡®We always need more volunteers,¡¯ Olive said. ¡®In the hospital ¨C or whatever has been made into one by the single doctor you had on staff. We need people to open their homes, we need supplies, and if you¡¯re that desperate for change, go and talk to jope!¡¯


    Asher hadn¡¯t heard the slang term for the Justice of the Peace for a long time, but the mention of the title caused the crowd to deflate. ¡®Should I know what the jope is trying to organise?¡¯ he asked Olive.


    Olive waved him away. ¡®Land settlements, mostly. Few of the farmers are donating paddocks for housing.¡¯


    ¡®Still a lot of people stuck out on the road with nowhere to go,¡¯ Clyde said.


    ¡®There you go!¡¯ Olive announced. ¡®There¡¯s plenty of things to be doing rather than standing here! Go!¡¯


    The crowd broke apart, slowly, the edges shuffling away until it thinned and disappeared into a slow crawl around the square. The courier woman shrugged herself free of the guard, then shot a dagger¡¯d look at Asher before leading the rest of her group away.


    Olive pinched the bridge of her nose. ¡®I was supposed to meet you in town to explain all this yesterday, Lieutenant. Where have you been?¡¯


    ¡®Sorry, ma¡¯am,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®I was sidetracked.¡¯


    ¡®My fault, ma¡¯am,¡¯ Clyde said. ¡®We got them research types up at Valenda, needed him for a bit.¡¯


    Olive nodded and waved him away. She sighed. ¡®It¡¯s so odd, isn¡¯t it? The end of a King Era is just a set of dates in any history book. I wonder if the end of the last one was just as messy.¡¯


    ¡®Sons coming together to murder their own father?¡¯ Asher asked. ¡®I¡¯d say it was.¡¯


    Olive laughed.


    ¡®Do you really think this is the end of Five Princes?¡¯


    ¡®Of course it is,¡¯ Olive said. ¡®We named it because of the five princes that usurped their King. None of those original five are left. The oldest with his three kids went wherever Valenda did, your uncle is gone, Lord Barque is fraying at the edges more than his brother, my father is one hard cough away from turning into dust, and whichever one ruled Telkesi went down with the ship. There¡¯s none left.¡¯


    ¡®I know Lord Barque has been talking about succession,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®Are you included in those talks?¡¯


    Olive laughed again. ¡®That would be one for the history books. Roselyn Delana, inheriting the duchesse of a whole province, then her kid sister gets the whole Kingdom.¡¯


    ¡®If she gets the Kingdom, do you get the Province?¡¯ Asher asked.


    ¡®I don¡¯t want it,¡¯ Olive said. ¡®Though I suppose that¡¯s part of the problem. Maybe they¡¯ll give it to that kid that came in to takeover Dalvany. I¡¯ve always wondered about how Euthrian politics run, even if she¡¯d be assassinated within five minutes.¡¯


    Asher could almost imagine Norrah in full regality, probably made to go by her maiden name rather than her mother¡¯s one to stop people panicking. She would be far more efficient than he would ever be.


    ¡®That¡¯s not for any of us to worry about,¡¯ Olive said. She glanced him up and down. ¡®I can see why Lord Barque recommended you. You handle a crowd well.¡¯


    ¡®Just trying to do my job, ma¡¯am,¡¯ Asher said.


    ¡®Did I hear right, that you¡¯re a Telkite?¡¯


    Asher flinched. ¡®My mother was.¡¯


    ¡®So you¡¯re from Fanmaryh too, huh?¡¯ Olive said. ¡®I¡¯ll admit, I don¡¯t have much to do with the community other than stopping people trying to force them out, but it¡¯s good to have someone else from home here.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯m from Ralkauda,¡¯ Asher pointed out.


    ¡®Oh. Nevermind then.¡¯ Olive shook herself. ¡®I take it from everything else that you¡¯re not big on the idea of witchcraft?¡¯


    ¡®No,¡¯ Asher said.


    ¡®No faith?¡¯


    Asher shrugged. ¡®I¡¯m impartial to the idea of the Sleepless Three, but I don¡¯t believe in secret groups working for ghosts or monsters.¡¯


    Olive nodded. ¡®You sound like that new duchess. Considering everything, I almost respect that.¡¯


    ¡®What do you mean?¡¯


    Olive gestured to the Town Square, nodding specifically at the sand that made the ground and the chunk of steps missing from the town hall. ¡®Can¡¯t see anything else that could explain everything that¡¯s happened.¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t think this stops at just ¡°magic,¡±¡¯ Asher said. ¡®Even if it does, I don¡¯t think any regular people clicked their fingers and did this. I¡­ just don¡¯t want a lynch mob.¡¯


    ¡®Fair enough,¡¯ Olive said. ¡®Let me worry about the Sovereignty and all these idiots. Let me know if you find anything out about what¡¯s going on. If you don¡¯t think this is magic, I¡¯m curious about where it could go from here.¡¯


    She marched off with the same authority she¡¯d broken the crowd with. Something stuck in Asher¡¯s mind, but he couldn¡¯t figure out what, even as her words echoed through his head. The last thing anyone needed was a try for power with a group of idiots at the helm, but Captain Delana¡¯s response felt off.


    Why had she assumed he was from Fanmaryh?


    Asher didn¡¯t know the name or face of every guard that moved through Ralkauda, even when he was one. It perhaps mattered a little that Ralkauda was eight times the size of Valenda, but he did know the name of every district captain and their lieutenant. Either Captain Delana didn¡¯t know the right-hands of her fellow Captains ¨C and know that Asher wasn¡¯t one of them - or something else was going on.

 Chapter 12.2 - The Second Side of History

    thoughts into the back of his mind. He had other things to worry about in the investigation, and he needed to worry more about the Gate and the world being put back together wrong. Revolution meant nothing if they were all going to die anyway.


    ¡®She is staring.¡¯ Penn pointed up towards the Town Hall. Asher hadn¡¯t heard him approach, and wondered if he¡¯d been standing there the whole time. Asher followed his gaze and saw the courier woman. She was sitting on the stairs in front of the statues, openly staring while her party sorted the messenger bags around her. He sighed. At some point his job had been public response, but the last thing he wanted to do right now was talk to anyone. Still, he hobbled his way up the stairs with Penn on his heels.


    ¡®Before you say anything,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®I don¡¯t know anything about this Sovereignty, whoever they are. I can look into it, but I can¡¯t promise anything. I just got back.¡¯


    ¡®I know,¡¯ the courier woman said. She leaned back against the broken part of the step, and Asher wondered if she was being hostile or didn¡¯t blink. He had no idea what her tone was supposed to be. ¡®Just thought you should know. They raided us because they were looking for you.¡¯


    A cold chill ran down Asher¡¯s body. ¡®What do you mean?¡¯


    ¡®I mean, they set up that outpost because they heard you were heading into town. They got angry when we weren¡¯t with you and tried to throw the whole delivery story at us. The other deliveries before us said the same thing. I don¡¯t know why they think they¡¯re in charge, but that¡¯s the situation.¡¯


    ¡®Oh,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®Oh. Okay. I¡­¡¯ he didn¡¯t know what to do with this, or why they would want him. ¡®How in charge do they think they are?¡¯


    ¡®Aside from calling themselves Sovereignty?¡¯ the courier asked. ¡®They might be the only ones stopping everything from turning to shit. Even got the zealous types to shut up, but a lot of them have been taking the feedback like they own the whole province now.¡¯


    That¡¯s a problem. He would need to talk to Norrah or Lord Barque about this, when he got a chance. Though, his mind whirled trying to connect the issue to the bigger one at hand. Maybe it had something to do with his investigation, though he¡¯d barely gotten anywhere with it. Unless they already knew he was a witch, but why not just arrest him if they knew? Were they waiting for proper evidence?


    No, it had to be something else. Something else he had to figure out. ¡®Thanks for letting me know,¡¯ he said.


    The inside of the Town Hall wasn¡¯t as busy as he expected, though the lobby had been repurposed into a makeshift command centre. The narrow opening gave way to tables set up between rows of marble pillars, and the tiled floor had been worn of its patterns by muddy foot treks. Norrah stood behind one of the bigger tables, leaning over a stretch of papers that scattered across the surface. Hushed conversation rang out from the table behind her, a group of men in worker rags that Asher didn¡¯t know. Norrah shifted as he approached, but didn¡¯t look up.


    ¡®You got here late,¡¯ she commented.


    ¡®I got sidetracked,¡¯ Asher said.


    ¡®That seems to be the flavour of the day,¡¯ Norrah said. She was more dishevelled than before, stray hairs flying wild from her bun, and a ragged shawl thrown over her shoulders that wouldn¡¯t been out of place on an urchin child. Behind her, nestled between two of the pillars, was a cloth strung up to block off a corner, with the unmistakable curve of a bedroll peeking out underneath.


    ¡®How is everything going here?¡¯ he asked.


    ¡®They¡¯re settling down compared to the last time you asked,¡¯ Norrah said. ¡®If you¡¯re going to ask to help, thank you but no. I have a system and I am working with it.¡¯


    ¡®I was going to,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®You look exhausted.¡¯


    Norrah did glance up then. She frowned. ¡®You have cuts all over your face.¡¯


    Asher¡¯s hand jumped up, and he felt the sting of a fresh wound across his jaw. ¡®Stupider than it looks,¡¯ he said quickly. ¡®Got one of my crutches caught in a rock and I fell over.¡¯


    ¡®That is stupid,¡¯ Norrah said. ¡®Did I hear right that you were back up in Valenda?¡¯


    Asher nodded. ¡®The Research Team has come up from Fanmaryh.¡¯


    ¡®Good. The sooner we can figure out where that blasted city went, the more we can deal with everything else.¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t know if you know, but there¡¯s a group of people playing commander here ¡ª¡¯


    ¡®Yes, I know,¡¯ Norrah said. ¡®I don¡¯t know who is in charge of the volunteers, but I¡¯m leaving issues with Captain Delana. She¡¯s gotten very good at shutting down the ones who are bothering people.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯ve had more than one run in with them now,¡¯ Asher said. He nodded at Penn, who was sifting through a pile of papers without stopping to read any of them. He glanced back and forth between the two of them, then went back to flicking them around.


    ¡®Do I want to know why you¡¯ve taken a volunteer as a personal assistant?¡¯ Norrah asked.


    Asher honestly hadn¡¯t considered it to be a problem, but he also wasn¡¯t about to tell Norrah about whatever eldritch monster from another world Penn really was. ¡®I need the help,¡¯ he said. When Norrah frowned, an awful idea came to him, and he leaned over so Penn wouldn¡¯t hear. ¡®He¡¯s not getting along with the others.¡¯


    Penn straightened at the words, and a low growl rumbled through his throat before he moved to another scattered pile of papers. Asher¡¯s spine contracted in at the noise, but Norrah only sighed.


    ¡®Fair enough,¡¯ she said. Asher held back a sigh of relief, and the creature he had seen the night before flashed through his head. Part of him wanted to see it more clearly, even in his minds eye, but he also needed to remember that angering him probably wasn¡¯t something he wanted to do.


    ¡®Is there something you needed, Lieutenant?¡¯ Norrah asked. ¡®Or are you just checking in?¡¯


    Right, he needed to look into Hadley and what happened to trap her in that place. ¡®I¡¯m still looking into other missing person cases,¡¯ he said. ¡®I¡¯ve got a few to look into but I need access to the city records.¡¯


    ¡®If you¡¯re looking for arrests, they¡¯re over there.¡¯ Norrah pointed to a stack of folders and bound record books at the same time Penn reached for it, and he shrunk back. ¡®I had to follow up on this Black Scroll business if it¡¯s going to bar people from entering the town.¡¯


    ¡®Are you still going to undo it?¡¯ Asher asked. ¡®You said you found it barbaric.¡¯


    ¡®Archaic,¡¯ Norrah corrected. ¡®Though your entire judicial system is centuries behind. As far as I¡¯m concerned, I¡¯ll arrest anyone who takes a shot at another human being before I arrest anyone on that list for coming into town.¡¯


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    ¡®None of them are that bad?¡¯ Asher asked. He moved over to the pile and flipped open the first bound book, noting that it wasn¡¯t an exile list but a record of executions the city had sentenced over the decades. The first six listed witchcraft, and Asher tried not to let the thought dig its way into his brain.


    ¡®For a kingdom that considers the death sentence an acceptable punishment, no, they are not,¡¯ Norrah said. ¡®So many of them are for witches. I thought you abolished that ruling when we did?¡¯


    ¡®We did,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®The third reigning King outlawed it, and the fifth brought it back.¡¯


    ¡®You¡¯re in the sixth now,¡¯ Norrah said.


    ¡®The end of it, some people are saying.¡¯


    Norrah waved him away. ¡®So this is the same King who burned all the records who people didn¡¯t like.¡¯


    ¡®The one who was assassinated by his own kids, yeah,¡¯ Asher said.


    ¡®I can see why no-one liked him.¡¯


    Asher snorted before he could stop himself. He kept flicking through the hanging records, though he wasn¡¯t sure why. Hadley was never accused of anything.


    ¡®Your Kings have a habit of being murdered by their own children it seems,¡¯ Norrah said. ¡®I hope that¡¯s not something I have to look forward to.¡¯


    ¡®Wouldn¡¯t you be the murderer in that situation though?¡¯ Asher asked. He paused, the files momentarily forgotten. ¡®What do you mean?¡¯


    Norrah tilted her head. ¡®Didn¡¯t the first King get assassinated?¡¯ she asked. ¡®Maybe Euthria¡¯s history has altered the facts, but I¡¯m surprised you didn¡¯t know that.¡¯


    ¡®Early history is not my forte,¡¯ Asher admitted. ¡®What¡¯s the story there?¡¯


    ¡®You want a history lesson from me?¡¯


    ¡®Humour me.¡¯


    Norrah sighed, and with a quick glance over at Penn ¨C who was sitting cross-legged on the floor and turning over yet more papers ¨C she dropped her elbows onto the table. ¡®It¡¯s probably more controversial in my Kingdom than it is yours. Tarinye and Euthria were at war, because of course they were, and Tarinye surrendered. Internal conflicts from what I remembered. Then the Tarinye leader was executed, his son took control, and they claimed themselves a nation the same time they claimed Telkesi as part of their territory. Bold move, honestly, but you won that war.¡¯


    ¡®Internal conflict?¡¯ Asher echoed. Maybe that was around the time Sergius of Audoen earned the title of Witch King. Warlock of the Moors. So many other colourful names.


    ¡®Why do you ask?¡¯ Norrah asked.


    ¡®It was one of the parts scrubbed from the library,¡¯ Asher said. When Norrah raised an eyebrow in question, he added. ¡®With how bizarre everything was, I went all the way back to see if anything similar had been recorded.¡¯


    ¡®You¡¯ve certainly been thorough.¡¯ Norrah¡¯s voice was dry.


    Asher gestured to his crutch. ¡®Not much else I can do.¡¯


    ¡®I suppose I understand,¡¯ Norrah said. ¡®Try not to get too distracted. Did you at least find something?¡¯


    ¡®Not enough to pull any strings together,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®But I have a few leads.¡¯


    He had neared the end of the folder, where the pages had long worn down from age, a lot of the ink fading entirely. Then something caught his eye and he paused.


    An execution order that was never completed because the accused disappeared from a completely locked cell. He¡¯d been written off as dead by suicide, but none of the official paperwork had been filled out. A quick flick through the other pages gave Asher the impression of a record erased to hide a scandal. The scandal of a man who had escaped out of a constantly guarded room with no window and iron shackles on the door. A single comment at the bottom of the page had been mostly faded away, save for a word he could still make out. Ring.


    ¡®Oh shit,¡¯ Asher breathed.


    Norrah glanced up from her own papers, and Asher pulled the file free, handing it over to her. She barely glanced at it before her eyes widened. ¡®That¡¯s a very depraved crime,¡¯ she said. ¡®But I¡¯ve already told you not to get distracted.¡¯


    ¡®At the bottom of the page,¡¯ Asher said. He hobbled around the table to point it out, then paused. He hadn¡¯t seen the crime listed, but the words made his stomach churn. The accused had been found with the bodies of missing men and women, all of them cut up to make a mismatched doll of different parts in his basement. The report said that some were still alive when he began cutting.


    ¡®Fuck,¡¯ he said. His mind flashed back to the abomination that had tried to kill him in Le Torkani, and a cold shiver trickled down his spine. A man of sick enjoyment, who had made tormented monsters of different creatures. He had toys of the same twisted amalgamations. It wasn¡¯t possibly the same person, was it?


    When he was a little kid, the Underlands were supposed to be a place of torment, where the most depraved and unforgivable of all would end up, but the monsters were the tormentors, not the people who ended up there. Perhaps it was the same as the old stories of witchcraft; blurred by history. Asher strained to make out the name at the top of the page, shoving it deep into the folds of his brain for later.


    ¡®I can see why you think this is not an isolated incident,¡¯ Norrah said. ¡®But if you are convinced, I need something a lot stronger than this to consider it.¡¯ She passed the book back to him.


    Asher snapped it closed, his mind whirling. Had he met the depraved killer in that horrible world? Was it the same man who had been tormenting him? The same one who had tried to drop an entire stone arch on his head just the night before? There was no way to tell unless he tracked down the tooth man to ask him, but if it was him, it removed the mystery of the other world a little. It connected the stories from his days at school with the real events he had seen. It was something.


    Light caught the edge of his vision as a little spirit danced across the table, pulling Asher¡¯s attention away from his thoughts. It looked strangely like a glowing caterpillar, it¡¯s back end forcing its front along as it struggled across the papers. When it reached another speck of silver on one page, it doubled in length then changed directions, moving to another speck further down the same page.


    The entire paper was covered in the stuff. It smeared across the bottom half, splattering across the fresh ink. Asher lifted it out from under the pile, and a section of it turned to dust under his thumb, that same grey texture that had covered everything he touched.


    Telkesi Project


    Instigation of Rehabilitation and Research Survey


    Under Decree of the Sixth King Thaddae Krishnit of Tarinye


    Dated 14.20.6/799


    CIC: Cpt. Navarre Chaverau


    The sight of Navarre¡¯s name was a punch to the stomach, hard and winding as the emotions Asher had pushed away came rushing back. It had been so long since that fateful day, though time had become a non-existence with Asher¡¯s recovery, and all he could think of now was that Navarre was still in there, still trapped while he was standing here, looking at a report of an island that was destroyed fifty years before this survey happened.


    Asher had no idea Telkesi had been declared safe. It had been a wasteland of rubble and rock since long before he was born, but it surprised him more that Navarre was a commander of the operation. Though, the man had said something about coming up from Fanmaryh when everything started.


    The more immediate question was why spirits were clinging to the report. Did they come up from Telkesi? If that was the case, then this might have gone back further than the last year. It also suggested that the disaster had something to do with all of this, which was a horrifying thought. No, this had to do with the paper, who wrote it and where it had been. He flicked through, and there was the same name again. Navarre had signed off on the report. He had filled it out.


    Please tell me you weren¡¯t involved in all this, Asher willed silently.


    ¡®Lieutenant,¡¯ Norrah said. ¡®You are in the way.¡¯


    ¡®Oh, sorry,¡¯ Asher stepped to the side automatically. A farmer clutching a straw hat in his fists stood at the other end of the table, watching Asher as though he were some concerned citizen not seeing his needs met quickly enough. He held up the report. ¡®Do you mind if I hang on to this?¡¯


    Norrah waved him away.


    Asher scanned through the papers, but without the context of the project it was based on, none of it made much sense. Why Navarre was in charge of Telkesi when Telkesi had been independent for nearly a century was strange, but the war had been a partnership between them and Tarinye so he couldn¡¯t question it too much.


    It was yet another mystery to add to the pile, but not the most pressing one. Right now he needed to start dealing with the questions he had already brought up. First of all, before this Sovereignty drove away what little good faith people had with the guard, he needed to track down Hadley¡¯s husband and find out what really happened to her.


    He had a name from her file. Iain Derrian. He owned a blacksmith at the bottom of the valley.

 Chapter 12.3 - These Wolves Are Suspicious

    The same volunteer who Olive had just fired was standing by the door, and Asher thought about approaching to get a better read on the man, when he realised he was deep in conversation with another man. Before he could stop himself, he eased into the shadow of the doorway to listen in.


    ¡®¡­it¡¯s not my fault the captain is wound tighter than a minstrel¡¯s panties,¡¯ the volunteer said. ¡®She¡¯s been like that since the Commander went gone.¡¯


    ¡®Can¡¯t blame her for that,¡¯ the other man said. ¡®Everything¡¯s gone tits up with people vanishing.¡¯


    ¡®The Lieutenant came back,¡¯ another said. ¡®Maybe the others will too.¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t get any of this,¡¯ the volunteer said. ¡®I thought the Lieutenant was supposed to be on our side anyway? Guy¡¯s been an asshole since he got back.¡¯


    Asher froze.


    ¡®My guess is that old ginger idiot took off before he could give the full picture,¡¯ the second said. ¡®Plus the Captain heard from Lord Barque that he ain¡¯t all there in the head anymore.¡¯


    ¡®I heard the old fool made a pass at the Lieutenant,¡¯ the third said. ¡®Probably approached the whole thing dick first and scared everyone off.¡¯


    ¡®Fucking royals and their scandals,¡¯ the volunteer said. ¡®The Lieutenant is probably working with that Adalynn chick. Lord Tremboui¡¯s daughter. She¡¯s been a real bitch too.¡¯


    ¡®She¡¯s definitely a liability,¡¯ the second said. ¡®Commander didn¡¯t say anything about her.¡¯


    ¡®Commander didn¡¯t know anything about her,¡¯ the third said. ¡®This whole thing has become an absolute mess.¡¯


    A hand clapped down on Asher¡¯s shoulder, and he jumped violently, whirling around and crying out when he saw Penn standing right behind him. Penn didn¡¯t so much as blink. He held a stray parchment in his fist, which he thrust towards Asher¡¯s face.


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    It wasn¡¯t a report or a file, but a crude drawing scratched in charcoal. It was a mass black shape that looked like it had been made by a child, a hunched thing with large pointed ears made of messy, disjointed lines scribbled in a frenzy. A red smear marked large eyes, and next to it was a tiny, neater shadow of a person in a long dress.


    ¡®It¡¯s a drawing,¡¯ Asher said, feeling stupid.


    ¡®A wolf,¡¯ Penn said. ¡®We need to find the wolf.¡¯


    ¡®This wolf in particular?¡¯ Asher couldn¡¯t think of a single worse thing to do, and a weight dropped in his stomach when Penn nodded. With all the animals attacking and the amount of wolves that lived in the northern woods, it would be near impossible to track down a single creature without calling in a small army. That didn¡¯t include the more territorial creatures further in the mountains, or the fact that they were attacking people. ¡®How exactly are we supposed to do that?¡¯ he asked.


    ¡®You¡¯re the leader,¡¯ Penn said. He thrust the paper at Asher again. ¡®We have to find this one.¡¯


    Asher couldn¡¯t imagine any world where he could walk up to someone like Norrah and ask for a legion of volunteers to find a single wolf because the strange magic man told him to. ¡®That¡¯s not how it works. If this is the animal that¡¯s causing them all to ¡ª¡¯


    ¡®Not an animal,¡¯ Penn¡¯s voice was a low growl.


    Asher paused. ¡®Is it a monster, or one of your friends? Another Nakati?¡¯


    Penn nodded.


    ¡®So is there a way to tell this wolf apart from the other wolves?¡¯


    Penn shrugged.


    ¡®Is there a way to track it down specifically?¡¯


    Penn shrugged again.


    Asher pinched the bridge of his nose. ¡®I can ask around about where wolf territory is,¡¯ he said. Though he didn¡¯t know how that conversation would go. ¡®And I can ask people to stop shooting at them, but there are other things we need to do.¡¯


    ¡®No,¡¯ Penn said. ¡®We need to find the wolf.¡¯


    ¡®If you can tell me how we find the wolf, then we¡¯ll look for it,¡¯ Asher said. He felt bad saying it. Penn was completely alone, now looking for the only other of his kind in this place, and as Asher held his gaze, all he saw was anger and desperation. Yet, to go traipsing out into the woods again, looking for a singular animal in a wilderness filled with more than just regular creatures, that frustration would only grow, and they would waste hours before they got anywhere.


    Penn was glowering at him. Again, the memory of that creature flashed into his mind, the old, gnarled thing that had been Penn but also not filled his brain, and he shook it away. They were supposed to be on the same side. Asher couldn¡¯t be afraid of him.


    ¡®Look, we¡¯ll ask around,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®We¡¯ll look, but we need to be careful. We need to think about this. Trust me a little bit, okay?¡¯


    Penn stared for an uncomfortably long time, then nodded. Asher only hoped that he wouldn¡¯t be made a liar to the only real ally he had in this.

 Chapter 13.1 - The Blacksmith

    Penn was seething. As they made their way down the hill, Asher could feel the impatience burning into the back of his head, and he was sure if he turned, Penn¡¯s eyes would be burning again. He tried to think of a single way he could track down a lone wolf in a territory full of them, but so much of his effort went into the walk down the hill and trying not to cry at the thought of climbing back up it. Maybe he could track down who the artist was, talk to them or their parents about where they were. He could ask the research experts if they knew anything about territory patterns ¨C though if the creature was really a Nakati that might not have mattered ¨C and call it a push to get the animals under control. He was supposed to be keeping order after all. Even though he¡¯d done nothing so far to keep the peace.


    No wonder everyone was starting to grow frustrated with him.


    Asher didn¡¯t know if he could really justify what he was doing. Maybe in the bigger picture, trying to get to the bottom of the whole situation, which is what he had told Norrah back at the Manor, but he felt rogue. If he had been an outsider looking in, trying to do his job as a Lieutenant, he would have sent himself back to Ralkuada. With a very stern talking to. At what point had he decided he would go off the path to get answers?


    Had he really changed so much so quickly? Or perhaps these were just doubts holding him back. Either way, his goal had to be the same. Get to the bottom of this. He had to find out how the Gate into that horrible world opened, when, and hopefully how to stop it. There were still so many missing people. Thousands of souls either trapped or dead, including the entire royal family. Inculding Navarre. There had to be a way to get them out.


    The smithery was smaller than Asher expected, a small house on the end of a quiet street made of the same daub and brick as every other building. It was separated from the others by a spiked iron fence, and attached to the side was a crooked and worn wooden extension. As Asher hobbled closer, the smell of burning metal tinged at his nose, joined with waves of heat that pricked against the otherwise cold air. The extension itself wasn¡¯t very big; a single room with a low, slanted roof and thick iron bars running along the walls. Clattering and rhythmic banging sounded from inside.


    Asher knocked on the door into the side room and it swung open without resistance. The inside was dirty and crowded and worn down, most of the space filled with a firepit that sat in the middle of the room. Tools and iron scraps covered the benches and worktables that spread across the rest of the space, covered in rust and heat. Standing in the corner, hammering at a lumpy horse-shoe, was a man twice the size of Asher. Asher had to assume it was Iain, but he was suddenly aware of the pain pulsing through his leg and how much his body ached.


    ¡®Closed,¡¯ the man growled. His torso was as wide as a barrel, his shoulders broad and bulging against a blackened shirt and apron. Dark hair formed a crown around his head, thick around the sides and thin on top, with a thick beard covering the bottom half of his face.


    ¡®I¡¯m looking for Iain Derrian,¡¯ Asher said.


    ¡®You found him,¡¯ the man said. ¡®Get out.¡¯


    Asher swallowed. It had been a long time since he¡¯d dealt with any situation that he needed to follow up on, and he¡¯d never handled a missing person case before. Yet, this was his only tangible lead so far, and he needed to be firm and authoritative. To a man who was twice the size of him.


    ¡®I don¡¯t mean to bother you,¡¯ he said. ¡®My name is Lieutenant Asher¡ª¡¯


    ¡®Lieutenant?¡¯ Iain echoed. ¡®You lot can¡¯t wait ten minutes for me to do my work properly? You want me to finish making these shoes, you leave me alone.¡¯


    ¡®That¡¯s not why I¡¯m here,¡¯ Asher said. He really wished the man wasn¡¯t holding a hammer the size of his head.


    ¡®Is that so?¡¯


    ¡®I have a few questions about the disappearance of Hadl¡ª¡¯


    The hammer slammed down onto the table hard enough to make the floor shake, and Asher jumped. Iain didn¡¯t turn, but tension rippled through his muscles. ¡®She didn¡¯t disappear.¡¯ His voice was tight, low and dangerous. ¡®She¡¯s dead. Does that answer all your questions?¡¯


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    ¡®Dead?¡¯ the word burst out before Asher could stop it, and Iain turned.


    His brow furrowed and his pale eyes narrow. ¡®Were you hoping for something else?¡¯ he demanded. He glanced Asher up and down. ¡®What are you doing? Going through old cases because you¡¯re on bedrest?¡¯


    ¡®Not exactly,¡¯ Asher said. He fought the urge to shrink back as Penn eased past him and began wandering through the workshop. Iain glanced at him, then turned back to Asher. ¡®Why do you think she¡¯s dead?¡¯


    ¡®Because she¡¯s dead,¡¯ Iain said. ¡®What are you doing here?¡¯


    Asher wondered how much Iain knew about Hadley, if mentioning witchcraft would give answers or more denial. ¡®A lot of people have been going missing recently,¡¯ he said.


    ¡®What about it?¡¯


    ¡®I think it started before Valenda,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®And Hadley¡¯s disappearance is one of the odd ones.¡¯


    Penn knocked one of the tables at the other end of the room, sending a string of tools clattering to the ground. When he stepped over the mess and kept circling, Iain huffed and shoved past the man to pick it up.


    ¡®Hadley spent too much time around the wrong people,¡¯ Iain said. ¡®That¡¯s it. Why don¡¯t you go talk to them about it instead?¡¯


    ¡®You¡¯re talking about Sara and Gershwin?¡¯ Asher asked.


    Iain straightened, tossing his tools back onto the table with a heavy thud. ¡®So you know. Do you know they¡¯re witches? Why are you bothering me?¡¯


    Asher flinched. If he was any other official, that would be enough to condemn both women. ¡®Was Hadley a witch?¡¯ Asher asked.


    ¡®What¡¯s it matter?¡¯ Iain asked.


    ¡®He¡¯s a witch,¡¯ Penn said.


    Iain whirled on the man, gripping an iron clamp with white knuckles. ¡®What the fuck did you just say, boy?¡¯


    ¡®Penn, don¡¯t,¡¯ Asher warned. Penn glared at him, and Asher held his gaze. ¡®People here don¡¯t like that.¡¯


    ¡®Is that why they¡¯re all dead?¡¯ Penn asked.


    ¡®A bit, yeah.¡¯


    Penn pointed at Iain. ¡®He¡¯s a witch. He¡¯s not dead.¡¯


    Iain lifted the clamp, and Asher held his hand up, stepping in front of Penn. ¡®He¡¯s not from around here,¡¯ he said quickly. ¡®No-one¡¯s accusing you, I swear.¡¯


    ¡®If your little serf friend is going to be like that, he can leave,¡¯ Iain said.


    ¡®No,¡¯ Penn said.


    ¡®Get out.¡¯


    ¡®No,¡¯ Penn said. He lifted the parchment he was still holding. ¡®I¡¯m looking for the wolf. You¡¯re a witch. Help me find the wolf.¡¯


    ¡®Who do you think you are?¡¯ Iain growled.


    ¡®Penn, stop,¡¯ Asher pressed. ¡®Please.¡¯


    ¡®We need to find the wolf!¡¯ Penn cried. ¡®If you won¡¯t help, I¡¯ll find a witch who will. He is a witch.¡¯


    ¡®You don¡¯t know¡ª¡¯


    Penn held up a chunk of metal, thrusting it at Asher. It was no bigger than his palm, round at the top and pointed at the bottom, with intricate molten silver woven through it. The top was hollow, closed only by a webbing of that silver pattern, revealing an empty inside. A vial.


    ¡®That doesn¡¯t prove anything,¡¯ Asher said.


    ¡®You put that back,¡¯ Iain snapped. ¡®Both of you get out. Get out before I smear you both across the floor.¡¯


    He stomped forward, and Asher held his hand out, signalling him to wait. ¡®I¡¯m sorry,¡¯ he said. Then, turning to Penn, he realised the man¡¯s eyes were burning again. ¡®We¡¯ll find the wolf, I promise,¡¯ he said. ¡®But you can¡¯t just take things you need to do it. It just makes things harder. Put it back, and let me talk to the man, please.¡¯


    ¡®We¡¯re not talking,¡¯ Iain said. ¡®I want you out too.¡¯


    ¡®We need to find the wolf,¡¯ Penn pressed. He thrust the strange vial at Asher. ¡®You do it.¡¯


    ¡®Penn, I know you¡¯re frustrated, but¡ª¡¯


    ¡®You¡¯re useless!¡¯ Penn snapped. ¡®Fix it!!


    ¡®Hey!¡¯


    ¡®Help me!¡¯


    He shoved the vial at Asher, and Asher snatched it off him with a frustrated shout. The metal stuck fast to his hand.


    It then exploded.

 Chapter 13.2 - The Fate of the Witch

    Asher screamed as white hot fire seared through his hand and up his arm, and the strange, spiritual fire enveloped the vial, curling through his fingers and around his skin. Sharp knots pulled tight in his gut, and bile hit the back of his throat as he finally pried his fingers open and the metal dropped to the ground. Asher¡¯s knees caved with it and he fell against the table, fighting the urge to throw up.


    The ringing in his ears was broken by Iain suddenly chuckling. ¡®You¡¯re a witch.¡¯


    Asher fought to catch his breath, pain still ripping through his arm that he could barely think through. There was nothing on his hand, not even a red mark where the metal had burned, but it felt like he¡¯d been flayed. His heart pounded against his ribs.


    ¡®You really part of the guard?¡¯ Iain asked. ¡®A spirit witch for a town guard. Now you¡¯ve made my day.¡¯


    White wisps of flame danced around the metal on the floor, the silver veins now alive and swarming like ants. It wasn¡¯t silver anymore, though. It was grey dust, flaking under the movement. There was spirit dust in the metal.


    ¡®You¡¯re a witch,¡¯ Asher returned.


    ¡®No, I¡¯m not,¡¯ Iain said. ¡®But you tell anyone and I¡¯ll take you down with me.¡¯


    ¡®I won¡¯t tell anyone.¡¯ Asher forced the words out as another bile taste hit the back of his throat. ¡®If you¡¯re not a witch, then why is there dust in your shop?¡¯


    ¡®Oh, there is?¡¯ Iain asked. ¡®I don¡¯t see shit.¡¯


    At the mention of it, the spirits snapped into focus as though they had been waiting to pull the curtain back. Prickles of light rippled across the workbench like a river on a clear day, and some tools on the wall smoked with a white haze, though no part of them were red as the pokers in the fire.


    Asher turned and saw a wooden crate behind Penn, filled with other strange contraptions and trinkets, each designed with the same silver lines, and the whole box pulsing. It wasn¡¯t breathing, and nothing in the box was moving, but there was a feeling in the air around it, and Asher was sure that if he pressed his hand against the wood, he would feel a heartbeat.


    ¡®What did you do to become a spirit witch?¡¯ Iain asked. ¡®Fall into fairyland? That explains your friend.¡¯


    ¡®What?¡¯ Asher turned back to Iain, finally finding the strength to stand up straight.


    ¡®That¡¯s what this is, isn¡¯t it?¡¯ Iain asked. ¡®You¡¯re a spirit witch, and he¡¯s a fairy.¡¯ He jostled the clamp at Penn.


    Asher had no idea what the difference between a regular witch and a spirit witch was, but there was finally a dialogue happening and he didn¡¯t want to lose it by sounding like an idiot. ¡®What are you?¡¯ he asked instead. ¡®Witch of the Smith?¡¯


    ¡®Forge Witch,¡¯ Iain corrected. ¡®Amateur. Answer the question.¡¯


    ¡®Penn is a Nakati,¡¯ Asher said.


    ¡®Yeah, that¡¯s what I said,¡¯ Iain said. ¡®How¡¯d you meet him?¡¯


    Penn wasn¡¯t paying attention to the conversation. Instead he had picked up the vial and was catching the spirits with his hands, easing them with clenched fingers into the hole at the top. Asher had no idea what this thing was supposed to do, but if it helped Penn then he would find a way to use it, but not at the risk of making the bear-man in front of him even angrier.


    ¡®I disappeared with everyone else,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®And I ended up in the Under¡­ in Le Torkani.¡¯


    Iain laughed, harsh and loud. ¡®What?¡¯


    ¡®It¡¯s true,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®And Hadley pulled me out. That¡¯s why I want to know.¡¯


    Iain¡¯s face pinched together in a quiet rage. ¡®What did you just say to me?¡¯


    ¡®I¡ª¡¯


    ¡®Hadley is dead,¡¯ Iain growled. ¡®What the fuck are you saying to me?¡¯


    ¡®It was her,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®She had red hair and a lot of birds, and she sent me to Gershwin and Sara¡ª¡¯


    ¡®You¡¯re insane, boy,¡¯ Iain said. ¡®Hadley sent you to her murderers? I¡¯d believe that when the Sleepless Three wake up.¡¯


    ¡®What are you talking about?¡¯ Asher demanded.


    ¡®What? They didn¡¯t tell you?¡¯ Iain asked. ¡®Those two got into witchcraft and took it way too far. They broke part of the Gate, and threw Hadley through it so they didn¡¯t have to pay. She is dead, boy. You¡¯ve come here on a lie.¡¯


    ¡®I saw her,¡¯ Asher pressed. He didn¡¯t want to believe this side of the story, though now he could only remember the women¡¯s guilt, and how relieved they had been to think she was alive after so long. Gershwin was on the Black Scroll; something had to have gone wrong, intentional or otherwise. ¡®I didn¡¯t even know who she was. That¡¯s why I¡¯m asking.¡¯


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    ¡®You must be new,¡¯ Iain said. ¡®Fuck that. You are new, since a simple surface level spell nearly took you down. The Underlands mess with your head. Nothing in them is real. What you saw was a hallucination, and you¡¯re using it to drag up this shit.¡¯


    ¡®Why would I hallucinate a woman I had never met and had no connection to?¡¯ Asher returned.


    Iain stammered, his mouth clamping shut and his jaw clenching. He twisted the clamp around in his hand, then threw it onto the table with enough force to make his other tools jump. ¡®Why did you come here?¡¯ His voice was suddenly quiet. ¡®Why are you doing this?¡¯


    ¡®Hadley¡¯s not the only one who¡¯s trapped in there,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®All of Valenda is gone. Dalvany is a mess. There¡¯s people I care about who were taken by monsters out of my nightmares.¡¯


    ¡®Oh, I see,¡¯ Iain said. ¡®Someone very special is in there, and you¡¯re going to rescue her.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯m going to rescue him, yes,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®Him and everyone else, but I need to know what happened.¡¯


    Iain laughed again. ¡®Is this what this is for you? Going to pull the love of your life out of the bad place and have a nice kiss at sunset and ride off to a happy little life in the mountains?¡¯


    ¡®No,¡¯ Asher said. He hadn¡¯t thought anything about his argument with Navarre or what led to it, but it slammed into the forefront of his mind with enough force to make him want to throw up all over again. ¡®He¡¯s a friend. None of them deserve to be in there, and it might get worse before it gets better.¡¯


    ¡®A ¡°Friend,¡±¡¯ Iain chided. ¡®Now it¡¯s making sense.¡¯


    Asher glowered, but he didn¡¯t want to talk about the technicalities of still considering Navarre a friend after their fight, especially not with this man, and that was enough for him to realise this was bait. Forcing the lump in his throat down, he met the bigger man¡¯s gaze. ¡®Valenda wasn¡¯t the first,¡¯ he said. ¡®And if the first place to disappear was a year ago, then it¡¯s really strange that Hadley disappeared at the same time.¡¯


    ¡®I already told you,¡¯ Iain said. ¡®She¡¯s dead. If you want to know why, go talk to her so-called friends out on the farm.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯m asking you,¡¯ Asher said.


    ¡®No. You have my answer. You¡¯re done.¡¯


    Asher opened his mouth to argue, then closed it again. He didn¡¯t know what he was expecting to get out of this conversation, and Iain still held that heavy metal clamp in his fist. Maybe he would need to talk to Sara and Gershwin again, if he could find a way back out there. The thought made him feel guilty though, the idea of dragging them through their past just for answers. The same as what he was doing right now.


    When had he decided this was okay?


    ¡®Alright, I¡¯m sorry,¡¯ Asher mumbled. He glanced at Penn, who was holding the vial in both hands, pressing his palms into it as though forcing it to contort. ¡®Can I buy the¡­ the thing, from you?¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t charge money for that,¡¯ Iain said. ¡®I¡¯m not stupid. I¡¯m starting to think you are.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯m leaving,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®I just¡­ he¡¯s not going to give that back.¡¯


    Penn glanced up from his task, a low growl bubbling in his throat.


    ¡®You want to pay for it?¡¯ Iain asked. He grabbed a small metal bowl from his bench and threw it at Asher. Asher¡¯s fingers bent painfully as he caught it. ¡®Fill that up.¡¯


    Asher turned the bowl over in his hands, his mind going blank. ¡®I don¡¯t understand.¡¯


    ¡®You¡¯re a spirit witch, aren¡¯t you?¡¯ Iain said. ¡®That¡¯s what you¡¯re good for. I¡¯m gonna need dust to replace what you¡¯re taking. You can get it. Fill the bowl.¡¯


    Asher regarded the bowl in his hand. Gershwin couldn¡¯t see the spirits either, from what he could remember. If that was the case, then he needed to ask if Hadley could see them or not. If she couldn¡¯t then no witchcraft would have happened without Sara. Unless something besides the dust made magic work, but he hadn¡¯t found anything to suggest that was possible yet.


    He didn¡¯t want to think Sara was guilty. He also didn¡¯t want to push anything aside because of his own opinion of her. If he did that, he really wasn¡¯t any good at any of this anymore. How much had he changed?


    Slowly, he placed the bowl down on the edge of the fire pit, then glanced around to find something spirit-like. He ended up reaching for one of the smoking tools on the wall, holding it over the bowl. The smoke danced upward from no and every point on the crowbar. Asher held his other hand up, awkwardly balancing his crutch under his elbow as he did, and as his palm met the smoke, it turned to ash and gravity took its hold, raining down into the bowl. When the bowl was full, he pulled his hand away and slowly lowered the crowbar onto the edge of the pit.


    He was a witch. He could feel the thought sinking deeper and deeper into his mind, part of him already accepting it was true. A witch who didn¡¯t know what it meant, who didn¡¯t know any more about this than when he started. He had his chance to be gentle about this conversation, and he hadn¡¯t even stopped to think. He tried to imagine if someone burst into his home, or anywhere he was comfortable, and started asking questions about Navarre without an explaination. No wonder Iain was mad.


    ¡®I¡¯m sorry,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®For all of this. I didn¡¯t mean¡­ I¡¯m sorry.¡¯


    Penn tugged at his sleeve, holding out the metal vial. The spirits clinging to it were gone now, the inside filled with misty, spectral flame. The silver veins running around the thing were still wriggling like millions of bugs forced together.


    ¡®Wolf,¡¯ Penn said.


    Asher regarded the metal thing in front of him. He¡¯d had no answers here, none that put him anywhere except where he¡¯d been sitting since he came back. He¡¯d stormed into this man¡¯s life and asked all the wrong questions, and if he didn¡¯t pull himself together soon, he would deserve to be thrown into Le Torkani.


    ¡®What do I need to do?¡¯ he asked Penn.


    Something shifted in Penn¡¯s expression that Asher couldn¡¯t place, followed by surprise. For all his pressing and nudging, he hadn¡¯t actually expected Asher to help at all. Slowly, he held out the strange vial, his thumbs pressed against the top to trap the insides in place.


    ¡®Word of advice, kid,¡¯ Iain said. ¡®You don¡¯t want to do that. You don¡¯t understand it enough.¡¯


    Asher already couldn¡¯t turn back. He thought about telling the man that, but decided against it. Sara had said something similar, that if he went in deep enough, he wouldn¡¯t be able to turn around. There was real danger in committing to this. Though, if he didn¡¯t get to the bottom of all of this, it would only get worse. Raulkada could be next, or the rest of Dalvany.


    Asher reached out and grabbed hold of the vial.

 Chapter 14.1 - Chasing Lights

    Nothing happened.


    Penn¡¯s brow furrowed and he shook the vial, and Asher¡¯s entire arm. He growled at it, his fingers digging into Asher¡¯s hand hard enough to break skin. There was a pulse beneath the metal, a heartbeat that vibrated through his palms.


    ¡®Take the chance, boy,¡¯ Iain said. ¡®Walk away.¡¯


    Asher turned to stare at him. ¡®Did you walk away?¡¯ he asked. He held up the vial. ¡®Or is this just a hobby?¡¯


    ¡®I already made my choice,¡¯ Iain said. ¡®If you want to get anything out of coming here and messing up my day, at least take that. Do not get involved in witchcraft.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯m already involved,¡¯ Asher pointed out.


    ¡®No. You¡¯re not,¡¯ Iain said. ¡®You think those stories of witches working for the demons come from nowhere? Those little bastards are attracted to magic, and you¡¯re handing yourself over every time you mess with it. You¡¯re not a witch.¡¯


    Penn snatched the vial from Asher and thrust it towards Iain. ¡®You do it then.¡¯


    ¡®No,¡¯ Iain said.


    Penn growled.


    ¡®You can put all the fairy curses on me you want,¡¯ Iain snapped. ¡®I can¡¯t lose anything else.¡¯ He turned on his heel, picking up a hammer and slamming it down hard on the table. ¡®I¡¯ve said my piece. You ignore me and it¡¯s on you.¡¯


    ¡®And if I want to ignore you, what am I doing differently?¡¯ Asher asked.


    The hammer came down again, hard enough to shake the walls. It fell back into the rhythmic beats of his work, and if Asher wanted to call out to get his attention, the pounding was loud enough to drown out any attempt. He sighed.


    ¡®So we find another way,¡¯ Penn said. ¡®We need the wolf.¡¯


    ¡®Is the wolf why all the other animals are attacking the townfolk?¡¯ Asher asked.


    Penn shrugged.


    ¡®Is it possible?¡¯


    Penn nodded.


    That was enough to risk whatever consequences were about to come his way. No-one else was close to any of this as far as he knew. He¡¯d already lost Clyde, the guard was stretched thin, Norrah was losing patience, and no-one in this place could afford another disaster. If not now, then something would come along where he had little choice.


    Asher considered the vial in Penn¡¯s hand. Maybe because he¡¯d already done something, though he didn¡¯t know what. Maybe the dust had to be involved. Maybe he was about to blow himself up.


    As carefully as he could manage, Asher pried the thing out of Penn¡¯s grip, checking to make sure his thumbs were pressed into the same points. Penn took a step back, staring at the metal with an intensity that made Asher nervous. The white wisps of spirits pattered against his skin, but still nothing happened.


    Penn bit his lip, then mumbled something in his mother tongue. The spirits stopped moving and the metal stopped breathing, replaced with a tension that pulled his hands in closer, a pressure waiting to pop. Penn frowned, and fire sparked behind his eyes again.


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    ¡®Hold still,¡¯ he said.


    Asher obeyed as Penn pulled one of his gloves free, revealing a scarred and calloused hand beneath. He flexed his fingers, then drove his palm into the bottom of the vial. A dark red welt rose on his skin, staining the silver lines of the casing, and Asher only had a moment to wonder why it was strange to think the man¡¯s blood wouldn¡¯t be red, when the white fire erupted through the metal once more.


    This time it burned less, pressure pushing against his grip as though the thing was straining to shoot into the roof like a cannon. He strained to hold it in place, even as Penn pulled his hand away and wriggled his glove back on. Muscles he¡¯d never used before cramped hard, pain seizing up his arms and into his chest, until he was holding the entire house in place, holding gravity down to keep himself grounded. Black spots filled his vision, and he was sure he would pass out when something cracked against the base of his skull, and the vial shattered like glass.


    As the metal dissolved in his hand, the wisps remained. All of them collected into a ball of red flame no bigger than his thumb. Asher eased his hands away, his entire body buzzing as though those phantom bugs now covered his skin, and the little orb remained. It then shot towards the door and disappeared through a crack in the wood.


    Penn charged after it, tearing the door open and sprinting around the corner. Asher swore, but as soon as he made to chase him, his crutch caught against the uneven ground and he fell into the table.


    ¡®Shit.¡¯ He wouldn¡¯t catch up to Penn like this, but he couldn¡¯t leave the man to run havoc through all of Dalvany either. Gritting his teeth, he wove his hand around his remaining crutch, tested his weight against his ankle, then hobbled after Penn.


    Asher reached the end of the street, where a crossroad waited, the path ahead curving into a hill leading up into the mountains. Footsteps echoed through the otherwise empty streets, thankfully coming from the road leading around the base of the mountain. He had no way of knowing if it was Penn, but he wasn¡¯t about to try and run up the hill.


    He struggled along as fast as his legs would allow, ignoring the twinges and aches that ran through his calf. The crutch knocked against the cobble ground, the sound ringing out through the silence, caught in the stillness of the greying sky turning dark with twilight.


    A flash of red shot across his vision, and Asher pulled to a stop moments before Penn barrelled out from between two houses and skidded to a halt before crashing into him. Asher stumbled and fought to keep upright as Penn glanced back and forth desperately. In the last thirty seconds, he¡¯d somehow grown several inches.


    ¡®It went that way,¡¯ Asher said. When Penn lunged forward, Asher grabbed him by the cloak and pulled him to a stop.


    Penn hissed, revealing pointed canines that looked a lot sharper than before.


    ¡®Cut that out,¡¯ Asher snapped. ¡®You¡¯ve come around in a circle.¡¯


    ¡®It¡¯s getting away!¡¯ Penn cried.


    ¡®Can¡¯t you ask the spirits where it¡¯s going?¡¯


    Penn recoiled, stammering at the suggestion, and Asher wondered if he had just suggested standing on his head to see better. Penn shifted, pulling his cloak free, but he didn¡¯t move to follow the light. Instead, he stood and stared at Asher, the light in his eyes sparking and sizzling in a slowly building blaze.


    ¡®I have to find him,¡¯ Penn said. Pain pierced the harder syllables of his accent, almost as though he was about to cry. ¡®I have to.¡¯


    ¡®We will,¡¯ Asher said. A flash of red caught the corner of his eye, and he lashed his hand out to catch the red wisp as it sailed past, but it bled through his fingers and kept moving. Penn snapped his own fist out and caught it easily. Red trails of fire and smoke broke through his fingers, but Penn held tight.


    He turned back to Asher expectantly.


    ¡®Maybe it needs a straight line,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®Can it go through walls?¡¯


    Penn shrugged.


    Asher assumed that was a no, but he could figure this out. Wild animals were everywhere, but he¡¯d already heard about the reports of rabid animals. Dalvany¡¯s Lieutenant had been missing because she was responding¡­ at the farms. They were already on the edge of town; they could at least try.


    ¡®It won¡¯t be here in town,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®We can try the farmlands, but I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s there or up north in the mountains.¡¯


    ¡®The closer one,¡¯ Penn said. He was practically bouncing, agitated.


    ¡®Are you going to be mad if it¡¯s the wrong way?¡¯


    Penn continued to fidget, glaring at him. Asher sighed, then pointed down the road, back the way they had come.

 Chapter 14.2 - Hunting Wolves

    The border between the Dalvany township and the farms was a shallow but rapid river. Rocks broke through the white foam, joined with a hiss that drowned out the sound of the approaching night. The uneven patches of grass around the bridge showed signs of camp ¨C sticks still propped out of the ground and burnt rocks suggested campfires. No signs of life showed anywhere, and Asher hoped that it was a refugee group that moved on, but it still made him uneasy.


    Across the bridge was a trading post, a single brick house with a wooden shelter for horses and mules, sitting at a fence that marked Dalvany in one direction and Raulkada in the other. Asher wondered why a sign needed to point towards the mountains or the forest was really needed so close to said mountains, but he¡¯d seen people do dumber things. The road widened past the post, branching off to the narrow tire-trek roads that wound around the fields to the individual farms. Penn stood in the crossroads of two narrower roads, then tossed the red wisp high into the air.


    The little red ball hovered high in the air for a heartbeat, then shot forward the same as before. Penn didn¡¯t charge after it, instead followed with careful steps, and Asher hobbled after him, balancing against the uneven road.


    There was no hard line between town and farmland. Though the river marked the division between the two, many of the buildings at this end were closer to the road, large square buildings that offered more indoor produce; greenhouses and silk spinners and postal checkpoints. Each fence line gradually grew further and further apart, until the familiar stretches of field and winery met them. The red light shone bright against the night sky, signalling them like a fire waving in the dark. The spirits had come back too, flecks of light racing through the blades of grass next to the road, lighting the way for them.


    When actual fire pierced the air in front of them, Asher swore and pulled Penn to the side, off the road and into a dip that covered them in shadow. The spirits followed, circling around them as though trying to announce where they were, and Asher was glad no-one else could see them. Penn wriggled free of his grip and scrambled out of the ditch, but Asher grabbed him and pulled him back down.


    ¡®Wait,¡¯ Asher hissed. ¡®Don¡¯t you see the people?¡¯


    ¡®What about them?¡¯ Penn asked.


    Asher strained to see the small group in the dark. Farmers, he had to guess. None seemed to be wearing the coats of the guard, though with these new Sovereignty idiots it was hard to tell. Some carried torches, holding them straight and scanning the road in front of them. As they swept around, the unmistakable glint of rifles on their back caught in the light. Asher swore.


    Penn scrambled to his feet again, and Asher grabbed his cloak, causing the man to slip against the uneven ground and slide further into the ditch. He hissed, harsh and angry and loud, then smacked at Asher¡¯s hand. Asher caught his wrist and held it firm. ¡®Will you stop that?¡¯ he demanded.


    ¡®Is someone there?¡¯ one of the farmer¡¯s called out.


    Asher sank deeper into the dip, keeping one fist closed around Penn¡¯s cloak as he tried to keep as still as possible. A few of the lights running through the grass rose up and caught in his hair, sticking fast and illuminating the curls. They can¡¯t see it, he reminded himself. They can¡¯t see you.


    Two of the men drew closer, one readying his rifle, while the other swept his torch across the landscape, coming uncomfortably close.


    ¡®You¡¯re hearing things,¡¯ the one with the gun said. ¡®We¡¯re hunting wolves, not ghosts.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯m telling you, I heard a voice,¡¯ the one with the torch said. ¡®Someone else is out here.¡¯


    ¡®So?¡¯ the gun one asked. ¡®Bounty is for everyone who catches the buggers. Let it go.¡¯


    Penn tensed, but didn¡¯t pull against Asher¡¯s hold. He waited for the moment where the torch light would throw it¡¯s beam over them, two men crouched in a ditch on the side of the road, no light between them. Even if he could pull rank, there was nothing that would easily explain any of this. His heart pounded against his ribs.


    The two hunters stopped, and after a beat of silence that stretched on for an eternity, both turned and rushed to catch up with their companions. Their footsteps left rings of white light in the ground. As the light of the torch bounced, Asher noticed that one was carrying a thick pelt, dragging it along behind him.


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    ¡®Hunting wolves,¡¯ Penn hissed. His eyes were burning again.


    ¡®I don¡¯t think it¡¯s your wolf,¡¯ Asher pointed out. The red light still flashed in the sky, now seemingly still as though it had found it¡¯s mark.


    ¡®They can¡¯t kill the wolves,¡¯ Penn said. ¡®Wolves do nothing wrong.¡¯


    ¡®I think they¡¯ve been attacking the farms,¡¯ Asher said.


    ¡®Not their fault,¡¯ Penn said. ¡®The world is broken.¡¯


    He had a point, but Asher understood why people were taking the situation into their own hands, especially when there was a bounty involved. When he got back, he would talk to whoever set the bounty and try and get it lowered or removed completely. One problem at a time though.


    As the torches disappeared over the rise, leaving only an orange haze behind, Penn scrambled out of the ditch once more, this time moving too fast for Asher to grab him. His leg screamed at the effort of pulling himself out of the dip, but he grit his teeth through it and managed to stand. If they tried to follow the road, it was more likely they would get shot before anything else happened.


    Penn charged after the group. Asher swore and tried to follow, but the man was sprinting at full speed, and Asher quickly lost sight of him. He couldn¡¯t follow. But he had to do something.


    The flecks of white light still caught in his hair, and he brushed them away impatiently, then paused. All he needed was a clear path for Penn to carve his single-minded mission, so the man didn¡¯t get shot. He could draw the hunters away, somehow.


    With only the lights of the spirits to guide him, Asher skidded down the slope next to the road, and continued the momentum to duck under the wire fence and onto the property next to the road. He couldn¡¯t tell in this light what it was for, but it was big and if he made enough commotion, it would work fine.


    It was a slaughterhouse. Blood and copper hit his nose as soon as he let himself in, burning his sinus and making him gag. The table along the far wall was stained brown and black from layers of past animals, and sharp tools hung from the wall and the ceiling, dried but equally stained. In the far corner, was a fire pit, cold and empty. His first thought was fire, but the last thing he needed was for someones business to go up in flames just to keep Penn from getting shot.


    A rifle sat propped against the side door, and Asher swiped it up just in case, checking the barrel to note that it was loaded. With the weight against his shoulder, he let himself out the side, where a path had been carved by two narrow fences leading further into the fields. The little flickers of light from the spirits caught in tuffs of dirty wool scattered through the grass. Asher saw no sheep, but now wasn¡¯t the time to be distracted by something fluffy and stupid.


    Instead, he balanced the rifle against his shoulder, and took aim at a nearby fencepost. It had been so long since he¡¯d fired one of these, but the target didn¡¯t matter; only the noise. As long as he didn¡¯t hit anything living¡­


    He pulled the trigger, and the shot ripped across the air, snapping through the silence with a plume of white smoke from the barrel. As the noise died, he strained to hear something beyond its echo, but there was only silence. He needed to go again.


    Ignoring the now screaming pain in his leg ¨C he didn¡¯t know where he had dropped his crutch ¨C he rushed back into the slaughterhouse with the flecks of spirits following him, pattering at the gun with a frantic excitement. Asher batted them away and found the small wooden box of bullets on a shelf, grabbing a handful and shoving them into his pocket.


    He forced his way back outside as another shot rang out, making him freeze. It had come from somewhere distant, somewhere in the direction he had fired. Asher scanned the sky, noting the red orb still hanging in the sky, which was noticeably too close to where the noise had come from. Another shot sounded, a crack that whipped through the air.


    Asher scrambled to load his own rifle, cursing as the next bullet became gritty and rough in his hand, caught in the dust that had once again covered his skin. Brushing away the flecks of white flame that bounced around his hand, he clicked the barrel back into place and pulled the pin back, then took aim at the same post. He didn¡¯t even know if this was working.


    He fired.


    The post exploded.


    Asher cried out as white flame burst from the wooden pole, shooting high into the air in a pillar of heat, before it sucked back down into the ground and a very real, orange fire swallowed the post. Panic froze him for a second, the gun still raised and pressing into his shoulder as he stared at the fire. The dust on the bullet, it had to be. He¡¯d put it there. He had done that.


    Shouts and cries in the distance broke him from his trance enough to lower the rifle and back towards the slaughterhouse. An orange haze appeared over the rise by the road, slowly growing brighter. The hunters. Penn¡¯s way was clear, but now they would come for him.


    Asher thought about putting the fire out first, but it was climbing up the post, not catching on the grass, and dimming by the second with nothing to feed on. The hunters would be here soon; they would put it out.


    The hunters were coming.

 Chapter 14.3 - These Ones Are Friendly

    Asher swore and ducked back into the old wooden building, still feeling the heat of the flame singe his face as the cold air sliced through the cracks in the walls. He forced his bad leg into motion as he made for the front door ¨C if he could get to the road he could tell someone he heard the noise, that he saw the light ¨C then paused as a deep growl echoed from the corner.


    The rifle was empty, but Asher raised it anyway, and the spirits darted forward at the motion to show the biggest dog he had ever seen, hunched in the corner with its teeth bared. Asher met it¡¯s dark, glinting eyes, and another low, dangerous growl rumbled through it¡¯s throat. It wasn¡¯t a herding dog, but a large thing of muscle with a narrow face and pointed ears. Not a wolf, but nothing Asher wanted to fight with either. It¡¯s hackles were raised and its tail was low between its legs. White teeth bared against the lights of the spirits.


    Slowly, Asher lowered himself down, dropping his eyes to stare at its paws instead of directly in the eye. If he moved slow enough, he could load the rifle again. Not to shoot the creature but to scare it away. Yet, the low rumbles of anger kept him still. Shouts and yells echoed out outside the door. He had to move, but the dog still glared.


    ¡®I¡¯m not going to hurt you,¡¯ Asher said. Soothing voices were supposed to help, right? All he knew for sure was to never make eye contact. If the thing was agitated by the magic, he was screwed.


    The paws came forward, and Asher tensed, his hand still on the gun, gripping it tight enough to turn his knuckles white. The growls eased into a heavy silence, but the glint of teeth still caught the corner of his eye. The dog eased closer, then the teeth disappeared as the animal sniffed at him. Asher held his breath. A wet nose knocked against his head, then the dog gave a high whine and dropped onto its stomach. Asher lifted his head to see the dog was still staring at him, but now the tail was thumping against the dirt, waiting. Slowly, he reached out and stroked the animal¡¯s head. The tail thumped faster.


    ¡®Okay, you¡¯re alright,¡¯ Asher said. Penn was right; the animals were scared. ¡®You need to go home.¡¯


    The dog responded by dropping onto its side, it¡¯s tongue dropping out from its mouth. Asher sighed and pulled himself up. He still needed to get out of here, but as he strained to listen, he heard no more shouts, or any sign that the hunters had reached him.


    ¡®You know¡­¡¯ the voice rang out from the doorway, making Asher jump. The dog snapped upright and barked at Olive leaning against the door frame. ¡®We had stories back home. Stupid old superstitions. The Telkite elders, the ones that lived on the island before it went up, they were convinced they could see things that weren¡¯t there. A secret world that made this one work. I always thought it was stupid. Zealous garbage and old tradition. Didn¡¯t mean anything.¡¯


    Asher said nothing. The rifle was still in his hand, and Olive didn¡¯t know it was empty. Something was wrong.


    ¡®There were other stories too,¡¯ Olive continued. Her hand rested on the pistol at her hip. ¡®That Telkesi was full of witches. That¡¯s why the water washed them away. Why they constantly fought against their neighbour kingdoms. They worked for the evils of the world.¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t believe any of that stuff,¡¯ Asher¡¯s voice was tight.


    ¡®You said that,¡¯ Olive said. ¡®When you mentioned you were a Telkite I wondered if you got raised on those stories too. Or maybe that rich boy education of yours had told you that all this was deserved. Demons come for those who commit the greatest evil, after all. Now I realise I¡¯ve read you completely wrong.¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t understand what you¡¯re saying,¡¯ Asher said. Though, he could hazard a guess; she was about to accuse him of being a witch. She had seen the pillar of light.


    ¡®I thought you went to a high academy?¡¯ Olive asked. ¡®Don¡¯t you remember the rules? The Underlands open to collect sinners. They snatched away the wrong in the world and balanced it out. Doesn¡¯t that sound familiar?¡¯


    Asher swallowed. ¡®Stories,¡¯ he mumbled.


    ¡®I know the Underlands are a real place,¡¯ Olive said. ¡®I never used to, but with all the evidence piling up, you¡¯d be stupid not to. And you¡¯ve seen them, haven¡¯t you, Lieutenant?¡¯


    ¡®I¡­¡¯ he was so fucked. ¡®I don¡¯t know,¡¯ he stammered. ¡®I don¡¯t remember what happened.¡¯


    Olive smiled, her hand wrapping around the handle of her pistol. ¡®You went into the Underlands, didn¡¯t you?¡¯ she asked. ¡®And you made some friends in there. Some friends that let you out as one of their little minions.¡¯


    Shit. ¡®You¡¯re accusing me of causing all the damage to Dalvany?¡¯


    ¡®No. I¡¯m accusing you of witchcraft,¡¯ Olive said. ¡®I¡¯m wondering how you got out of a place like that when no-one else did.¡¯


    ¡®Plenty of people did,¡¯ Asher said. A lump had formed in his throat, making it hard to breathe. ¡®I am not a witch.¡¯


    ¡®Oh, I know Ralkauda got all liberal by removing the death sentence for witchcraft, but that doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m going to have you hang straight away. Imagine the panic. The very man brought in to keep the peace was working with the other side this whole time.¡¯


    ¡®You don¡¯t have any evidence of that,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®They¡¯d think you¡¯re insane, going on about the Underlands and demons and¡ª¡¯


    ¡®I already told you, the Underlands are real. We can both stop pretending we think different,¡¯ Olive said. ¡®Captain Cheverau knew too.¡¯


    Something hard and heavy dropped in Asher¡¯s stomach.


    ¡®You¡¯re snooping didn¡¯t reveal that little bit, did it?¡¯ Olive asked. ¡®Some of us have known for a while. I¡¯d been waiting for you to make it clear he¡¯d brought you in too, but he was never good at rubbing elbows.¡¯


    ¡®Brought me into what?¡¯ Asher demanded. ¡®What were you doing?¡¯ If Olive thought witches were agents of the Fienta, then it wasn¡¯t that, unless she had been involved in this strange magical world and thought there was a difference. it was impossible to say.


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    Navarre knew about it all.


    Olive grinned. ¡®Cute. You think you¡¯re getting anything more than that.¡¯


    Asher gripped the rifle tight in his hand, his mind scrambling to find a way out of this. Running wasn¡¯t an option. Even if he had two working legs, Olive¡¯s pistols were definitely loaded. Olive clicked her tongue.


    ¡®Put the gun down, Lieutenant. We¡¯re not doing this tonight.¡¯


    ¡®You have no evidence,¡¯ Asher¡¯s argument was weak, he knew that. Even if she hadn¡¯t seen the pillar of light ¨C if it had been invisible to her ¨C suspicion alone had hung plenty in the past. ¡®You accuse me with bias.¡¯


    ¡®Bias?¡¯ Olive echoed.


    ¡®Any court you throw me at won¡¯t see enough to accuse me,¡¯ Asher pressed. ¡®Let alone execute me.¡¯


    Olive laughed then, a harsh, manic sound. The rifle snapped up to Asher¡¯s other arm, and in a blink, Olive had the pistol in her hand and had levelled it directly at his head.


    ¡®You¡¯re fascinating, you know that?¡¯ she said. ¡®Lieutenant. Before you turned thirty and everything. All that ambition and work, and you¡¯ve thrown it away on fear.¡¯


    ¡®I am not about to abandon my post,¡¯ Asher said.


    ¡®You already have,¡¯ Olive said. ¡®Put the rifle down.¡¯


    Asher held the gun out to the side, then dropped it into the dirt. ¡®You¡¯re not going to shoot me.¡¯


    ¡®Oh, I am,¡¯ Olive said. ¡®But I¡¯ll give you a choice because I like you. Do I shoot you in the head, or in the shoulder?¡¯


    The spirits scattered from the slaughterhouse then, plunging the room into shadow. The only light now came from a torch propped on the other side of the doorway that threw long, flickering shadows over the ground. Olive still levelled the pistol at his face, unaware.


    A growl rumbled through the walls. Louder than the dog that still sat alert at his feet, louder than the explosion of flame outside, enough to shake the tools hanging from the roof with a dangerous clatter. Asher stumbled back in case any of them fell, and Olive flinched back herself, finally pulling the pistol away from his direction.


    ¡®What is this?¡¯ she demanded.


    The growl became louder still, rumbling deeper and closer until it was a roar that swallowed the air. It came from everywhere at once, echoing around the station of death as though the building itself had come alive.


    The side door shattered into shards of wood, bursting open and tearing the frame and the wall with it, sending splintered blades in every direction. Asher threw his arms up to shield his face, and saw only a flash of shadow before the spirits returned, climbing up the now dangling remains of the wall as white flame, eating away at the wood. In the middle of the mess, hackles raised and teeth bared, was the biggest wolf Asher had ever seen.


    To call it a wolf wasn¡¯t even true, this thing was a beast that might have shepherded giants in old times, standing as tall as the frame of the door used to be, and twice as wide. It¡¯s bared fangs were as long as Asher¡¯s forearms, and the eyes were large and fixed on him. Red burned behind the dark irises, a simmering fire of hot coals caught in the light and illuminating it¡¯s whole face.


    Not a wolf, a monster, and it was staring at him.


    Olive snapped out of her own panicked stance first, aiming her pistol at the beast and clicking the lock down. The noise made the wolf¡¯s head snap to the side, fixing on her, and the colour drained from her face. A low, menacing roar rumbled out from its mouth, and it lowered its front end as though to pounce.


    ¡®Call it off,¡¯ she ordered.


    It took Asher a moment to realise she was talking to him. ¡®I¡¯m not doing this!¡¯ he cried. Where was Penn?


    ¡®Call it¡ª shit.¡¯ Olive fired her pistol, but the bullet bounced off the creature¡¯s flank harmlessly. She swore again, then turned and dove out the door, disappearing around the side of the building.


    The monster turned back to Asher. It lifted it¡¯s front end, no longer ready to throw itself at him, but it took a step towards him. Asher stumbled back, then tripped as the dog knocked into the back of his legs, landing on his behind and sending a sharp pain through his tailbone.


    The monster came forward, and Asher scrambled back, but the creature was on him in a blink, its breath hot and wet against his face, its breathing harsh. The dog bounced around behind him excitedly, barking at the bigger thing with forceful noises. All of Asher¡¯s joints locked, his body freezing as the creature hung over him, it¡¯s nose inches from his face.


    It then leaned over and pushed that nose into Asher¡¯s chest.


    ¡®I found the wolf!¡¯ Penn burst out from behind it, a grin spread across his face, flashing a sharp, toothy smile that seemed out of place with what Asher had seen before. Before Asher could say anything, he threw himself forward and wrapped his hands around the monster¡¯s neck, burying himself in the thick fur of it¡¯s mane.


    ¡®That¡¯s not a wolf.¡¯ Asher¡¯s voice escaped in a squeak.


    Penn¡¯s smile faded. ¡®He¡¯s not dangerous.¡¯


    The wolf leaned forward and pushed its nose into Asher¡¯s chest, nudging him with enough force to wind him. Penn spoke in a low tone, fast and forceful, with the wolf backing away and leaning in as though to listen.


    The creature backed up, then stood up. Raising itself onto it¡¯s hind legs, it¡¯s head rose high enough to brush against the ceiling. It then shrunk, growing smaller and smaller as its legs straightened, as it¡¯s back sank in and haunches turned to shoulders. Asher stared as the features of it¡¯s face pulled back into a human face. The man in it¡¯s place had skin as black as the wolf¡¯s fur, darker than any skin tone Asher had ever seen. He was still large, and his ears were pointed, sticking out past the back of his head. He had no hair and a large, hooked nose, but his eyes shone with the same red coals he had seen in the wolf¡¯s eyes. The same shine Penn had.


    He was also completely naked. Yet, he wasn¡¯t built downstairs like a regular person. Tuffs of fur ran along his pelvic bones, meeting in the middle at a smooth curve of flesh. Still, heat flushed through Asher¡¯s face. Flashers weren¡¯t his usual problem causers.


    The stranger who was now a man met Asher¡¯s eye, unbothered by how exposed he was. ¡®Hello,¡¯ he said. ¡®I didn¡¯t mean to scare you.¡¯


    He had the same accent as Penn, but it wasn¡¯t as thick, and the stresses on each syllable were smoother.


    ¡®Th-that¡¯s alright,¡¯ Asher stammered.


    The man held his hand out and leaned forward, then fell with the momentum, landing on his knees as Asher scrambled out of the way. He groaned, straining against the dirt. As Asher peeled his coat off to offer to him, he noticed how hot the man¡¯s skin was burning. Did Nakati get fevers?


    ¡®Something¡¯s wrong,¡¯ Penn said. He switched to his native language and spoke low and fast, while the new stranger nodded and brushed him away. He eased himself to his feet, but as Asher hooked an arm over his shoulder to help, the man collapsed again.


    ¡®Are you hurt?¡¯ Asher asked.


    ¡®No, I don¡¯t think so,¡¯ the man said. ¡®I can¡¯t seem to find my strength.¡¯


    Asher couldn¡¯t see any injuries, but he also didn¡¯t want to stare too close. Penn shrugged his own cloak off and wrapped it around the stranger, still talking low and fast. They needed help. Maybe to Gershwin or Sara? No. He¡¯d just been accused of witchcraft; he wasn¡¯t about to drag that to their door. He wracked his mind for anywhere he could go, where would be safe until he could sort it out. If he could sort it out.


    A horrible slimy feeling twisted through his stomach, the realisation of it all crashing down all at once. Olive accused him of witchcraft. She saw this as her evidence, and with her word against his¡­ He would not hang. He needed to find a way to fix this.

 Chapter 14.4 - A Glance Through the Door

    Penn hooked himself under the man¡¯s other arm, and Asher strained against his single-leg balance to help the man up. Pain shot through his knee and his hip, but he grit his teeth against it as the stranger finally stood, then stumbled towards the front door. Asher strained to hear where the hunters had gone, or if Olive was waiting, but only silence claimed the air outside. He opened his mouth to tell the others to wait, but the stranger spoke first in that strange language, then pulled away from Asher¡¯s hold and grabbed onto the frame of the door.


    The doorway shimmered as they stepped through, and Asher¡¯s senses exploded as colour and white noise burst across his vision, blinding him in a mess of white and green and red, flashing fast and against the back of his eyes. He cried out, aware of his hands covering his face, but he couldn¡¯t see his hands, or the fields, or anything except for the violent puttering colours in his face.


    Something grabbed his collar, and in a snap the sensation was gone, leaving only white spots splattered across his vision as the scene around him returned. Only he wasn¡¯t in the slaughterhouse anymore.


    The strength in his legs folded, and Asher fell into a wall, his brain searing as he tried to see where he was and what had happened. Colours still burst in front of his eyes, his ears ringing painfully. He tried to pull himself up, but pain radiated through his ankle, driving him back down onto the ground.


    ¡®You okay?¡¯ Penn¡¯s face hovered in front of him, brow furrowed in concern.


    Two large copper horns sprouted from his forehead, shining against flickering lamplight and protruding straight and sharp over his head and towards the sky. They made his face narrow, his cheekbones higher, and a strange, inhuman shine coated his skin, as though it was made from a still river on a sunny day. His eyes, still burning hot with fire behind them, were fixed on him.


    Asher stared. The sight pulled him back to himself, but it didn¡¯t fade like the other strange sensations. There was a terrifying beauty to his face like this, like the moment of disaster where everything was caught in destruction, breaking apart in the final moments of life. Asher couldn¡¯t move. The joint of his ankle had locked somewhere in the pain, and he was paralysed as a result, pressed against the cold, cobblestone road like a frightened child.


    The road¡­


    They were in Dalvany. Somewhere in whatever had just happened, they were back in the familiar narrow streets, surrounded by the tall, pressed in buildings all crushed together. His mind tried to fill the gap, the hour of travel that would lead from one place to another, but trying only sent another flash of colour through his brain and a sharp pain across the front of his skull.


    ¡®Are you okay?¡¯ Penn asked again. His eyes traced up as he noticed Asher¡¯s stare, and he flicked his hood back over his head. The horns curled down beneath it, disappearing and returning his face back to its human appearance.


    ¡®We¡¯re in Dalvany,¡¯ Asher felt stupid saying it, but everything that had just happened crashed down so hard and completely he was ready to curl into the wall and disappear. He¡¯d been accused of witchcraft. It wasn¡¯t a fear he¡¯d ever thought of having, because of course he wasn¡¯t, but now there wasn¡¯t any escaping it. There was no way to escape it, to prove Olive wrong. Olive would tell the others. She would tell Norrah, and Evelyn and Magnus, and soon the whole town would come down on him.


    Penn glanced over to his companion, who was struggling to pull himself up. ¡®He tried to go into Nakati, but it¡¯s not safe.¡¯


    Asher could feel his breath coming out fast and shallow, but he was outside of his own body, not sure of what to do or where to go. There was supposed to be a protocol to follow, or rules set where he could dispute the claim, pull Olive through a legal battleground for pulling a gun on him and abusing her power. How could he show that he wasn¡¯t what she claimed, in a way that went against what she could apparently prove?


    It was her word against his, and he was losing allies more than he was gaining them.


    His only option was to hide until he had more information.


    He couldn¡¯t be here. He couldn¡¯t move.


    ¡®He needs help,¡¯ Penn said. He turned to his companion, just as the man¡¯s legs failed and he collapsed against the ground. He still had nothing but Asher¡¯s coat to cover himself, made the size of a handkerchief compared to the man¡¯s size. He still had pointed ears and inhuman eyes. In the middle of town.


    ¡®We have to get out of here,¡¯ Asher¡¯s voice escaped in a whisper.


    Penn¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡®Why?¡¯


    They were going to kill him. Hang him outside town with all those other people. Penn and his friend wouldn¡¯t be allowed to just walk away either. Who else would be questioned? Clyde maybe, proving the validity of his concerns, Sara and Gershwin who had only helped him, Iain, who he had barged in on without warning. Asher could imagine the questions, a possible investigation about who he was and what he planned to do.


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    It had been out of his control. An accident.


    He couldn¡¯t breathe.


    ¡®The guardians of this world,¡¯ the wolf-man said. He leaned against the wall, pressing against it so hard he would either knock it over or pass straight through it. ¡®They did not simply disappear, did they?¡¯


    Asher shook his head.


    ¡®Humans have killed them all. They would kill you.¡¯


    Asher nodded, the words sending a horrid chill down his spine.


    ¡®We can go to Nakati,¡¯ the man said. ¡®You are a friend. You can be safe there.¡¯


    Penn hissed, cutting off the man¡¯s words and making him pale. He replied low and calm in his first language, but Penn snapped at him, cutting him off once more. Asher remembered in a blink the events north of Valenda, and why Penn had dragged him out there in the first place.


    ¡®It¡¯s not safe for you,¡¯ he said, feeling stupid.


    Penn whirled around on him, staring with an expression he couldn¡¯t read. He was still for a beat, then nodded. ¡®The Fienta wait for me there. We can fight them, or hide here.¡¯


    Asher glanced at the naked man next to him, at his own crooked leg with it¡¯s shooting pains. Neither of them were in any condition to fight those things. ¡®We can find somewhere to hide.¡¯


    ¡®I need help,¡¯ the wolf-man said. ¡®A healer, if you have one. I would rather take my chances in Nakati. Being in my own world will help stave off whatever this is.¡¯


    ¡®Penn said the Fienta are waiting for him there.¡¯ Asher pointed out.


    ¡®That is not a guarantee.¡¯


    ¡®Do you want to risk it?¡¯


    The wolf-man fell silent, admitting defeat. Penn glared at him, then walked over and hooked the man¡¯s elbow over his shoulder. Asher clawed at the wall, struggling to his feet. He didn¡¯t know where they could go; he didn¡¯t know the town well enough, but there had to be a building somewhere they could hide out.


    They were close to the square, he knew that much. They had to go further out. Maybe a building near the farms was left empty with all the workers moving up into town.


    Penn snapped to attention, his muscles clenching, and Asher froze as a shadow fell over the road. A humanoid shape inching towards them, heralded by bouncing lines of wispy smoke that flittered along. They moved with that hypnotic lull that pulled Asher in, stealing his focus in an urge to follow.


    The human figure came around the corner, and Asher recognised her instantly. The bartender who had opened her inn to the injured townsfolk. The same one he had pulled out of Le Torkani. She looked better than she had in the hospital cot, though she¡¯d lost a lot of weight, and she held a stuttering, struggling lantern in one hand. She jumped in surprise when she saw them.


    ¡®I know you,¡¯ she said.


    ¡®I know you,¡¯ Asher returned. His heart hammered hard against his ribs. ¡®It¡¯s Tippy, right?¡¯


    ¡®Only Clyde calls me that,¡¯ the bartender said. ¡®Temperence.¡¯


    ¡®Asher,¡¯ Asher returned. ¡®What are you¡ª¡¯


    ¡®Not now,¡¯ Temperence said. ¡®Are you what they were leading me to?¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t follow,¡¯ Asher said.


    ¡®The lights,¡¯ Temperence said. ¡®They were asking me to follow.¡¯


    ¡®We upset them,¡¯ Penn said, ¡®opening the door. You should not follow them.¡¯


    ¡®I can handle myself,¡¯ Temperence said. ¡®But you can see them.¡¯


    Asher swallowed. ¡®I can.¡¯


    Temperence nodded. ¡®And that place, you were there too.¡¯


    Asher nodded.


    ¡®You pulled me out.¡¯


    Asher nodded again.


    ¡®So it¡¯s real.¡¯


    ¡®Yes,¡¯ Penn said.


    ¡®It¡¯s real,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®Though I don¡¯t remember dancing, if that¡¯s your next question.¡¯


    Temperence glared at him for a moment, then her gaze swept across Penn, and then the stranger, who was still naked and covering himself with Asher¡¯s coat. ¡®Do I want to know?¡¯ she asked.


    ¡®No,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®It¡¯s best you don¡¯t.¡¯


    ¡®They accusing you too, huh?¡¯


    Asher stammered, not sure what to say. He didn¡¯t want to admit it. He wouldn¡¯t. It wasn¡¯t true.


    Was it?


    Temperence nodded as though he had answered. ¡®People have been throwing words at me too. Doesn¡¯t worry me. Not until the officials get involved anyway. I just want to know one thing. What¡¯s really going on?¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t know for sure,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®I don¡¯t completely understand what I do know.¡¯


    Temperence glanced the naked man up and down. ¡®You give me everything you know, and everything you learn, and I won¡¯t tell. Sound fair?¡¯


    Asher nodded. ¡®That works for me.¡¯


    ¡®Good. Come on then.¡¯


    Asher stared, and she rolled her eyes.


    ¡®No-one touches my place since I disappeared from it,¡¯ she said. ¡®You can hide there. Or you can stay out here. Your choice.¡¯


    She turned on her heel and marched back the way she came, leaving Asher to stare after her. In such a short time, in nothing more than a blink, this was all that was left of his life; stumbling down dark roads with a sliver of hope that he wouldn¡¯t die by the end.

 Chapter 15 - The Day the Gate Broke

    The wolf-man introduced himself as Teka. He said little else as they struggled through a back door to the inn, and Asher was glad. The inn itself was different to the crowded, chaotic mess he¡¯d been met with the first time he¡¯d come here. Gone was the crowd and the groups of sad and scared people, and instead the chairs had been turned up onto their tables, and a weighted, dusty silence filled the space. Temperence pointed them upstairs, and the commons of the lodging was the same story. No cots lined the walls, no tables, no people. Even the smell of blood was replaced with the must of wood and dust.


    Asher stayed with her for a while, explaining everything he could and everything that had been explained to him. Each question Temperence asked, he admitted he had been asking the same thing, but she accepted that. By the time he made it up the stairs, Teka had let himself into a side space, an opening into a room that held only a rickety bed and support beams, and he crashed onto the mattress with a force that made the room bounce. His expression was vacant, and his breathing was sharp.


    ¡®I don¡¯t think a human doctor is going to help,¡¯ Asher mumbled.


    ¡®He will rest, then return to Nakati alone,¡¯ Penn said. ¡®He is not the one in danger.¡¯


    ¡®Not without you,¡¯ Teka muttered. ¡®Not without Nadu.¡¯


    Penn hissed, prompting a mumbled protest from Teka. His eyes rolled back in his head.


    Asher stumbled forward, though he didn¡¯t know what he could do, or if he could do anything. Instead, he awkwardly fumbled over to the window, noting the town square below with it¡¯s makeshift tents and sandy ground. He pulled the curtains closed, then dropped into a little wooden chair in the corner. The room itself was dark and particles of dust hung in the air. The smell of must and wet wood was stronger here.


    ¡®The Fienta are in your world the same way they¡¯re here, aren¡¯t they?¡¯ Asher asked. When Penn didn¡¯t answer, he added. ¡®Those monsters took prisoners. Like they took people here, didn¡¯t they?¡¯


    Penn didn¡¯t answer, and Asher was convinced the man was ignoring him when he nodded. ¡®Nadu is my father.¡¯


    Asher¡¯s stomach churned. ¡®I¡¯m sorry.¡¯


    Penn lifted his gaze from the now sleeping Teka and stared at him. ¡®Why do you want to know so much?¡¯


    ¡®I¡­ I don¡¯t know,¡¯ Asher admitted. I¡¯m just trying to help.¡¯


    ¡®Why?¡¯ Penn asked. ¡®Why do you help me? You made the noise that scared the hunters away, you gave up your search to help mine. You do what I say. Why?¡¯


    ¡®That¡¯s a complicated question,¡¯ Asher said.


    ¡®You are nice to me,¡¯ Penn said. ¡®I have not been nice to you.¡¯


    ¡®It wasn¡¯t personal though, was it?¡¯ Asher asked.


    Penn¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡®I don¡¯t know what that means.¡¯


    ¡®You weren¡¯t mean because you hated me,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®Were you?¡¯


    ¡®No,¡¯ Penn said.


    ¡®You¡¯re alone. You¡¯ve been alone for a long time. That¡¯s why you¡¯ve been so desperate.¡¯


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    Penn stiffened, then nodded. ¡®You helped though. I¡¯ve never seen someone help because they can before.¡¯


    ¡®That sounds horrible,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®But it¡¯s not true now, right? It sounds like Teka doesn¡¯t want to leave you either.¡¯


    ¡®Teka is my father,¡¯ Penn said. ¡®He does this.¡¯


    Asher stammered, before realising he had nothing to say to that. Instead, he eased the chair forward until he was sitting next to where Penn was standing. ¡®You have two dads?¡¯ he felt stupid asking it.


    ¡®Yes,¡¯ Penn said. ¡®Why?¡¯


    ¡®No reason,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®It¡¯s not something you see here often.¡¯


    ¡®Is there a rule about how many kinds of parents a human can have?¡¯ Penn asked.


    Touche. ¡®It¡¯s complicated.¡¯


    ¡®I will help you,¡¯ Penn said. ¡®You have helped me, and I will help you. You are looking for the witch from inside Le Torkani. We will find her.¡¯


    ¡®You don¡¯t have to,¡¯ Asher mumbled, though he hated the idea of continuing the search alone. ¡®Ultimately I want to rescue all the people trapped in there. Or as many as I can. We can try and save your father too.¡¯


    Penn flinched. ¡®Why?¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t know,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®Maybe I just need an ally. I¡¯m losing so many lately, and you¡¯re a good one.¡¯


    ¡®Al-eye,¡¯ Penn traced the word across his tongue. ¡®I don¡¯t remember that one. Friend?¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯d consider you a friend,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®If that¡¯s alright.¡¯


    The corner of Penn¡¯s mouth twitched, betraying a small smile. ¡®Friends is good.¡¯ He turned his attention back to Teka. ¡®I¡¯m sorry,¡¯ he said. ¡®For how I have been. I¡¯m sorry.¡¯


    ¡®It¡¯s alright,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®I don¡¯t blame you.¡¯


    ¡®You should,¡¯ Penn said. ¡®This started because of me.¡¯


    Asher flinched. ¡®You said before that the spirits were supposed to tell you when the Gate was opening, and they didn¡¯t.¡¯


    Penn nodded. ¡®They were supposed to. They do because they are made to. It¡¯s their only role. If I had known. If I had listened, the Gate would be closed. Everyone would be safe.¡¯


    There was more to this. There had to be. Navarre knew something before he disappeared. The thought still didn¡¯t connect to anything real. Navarre knew. Did he know the full story? Perhaps he only knew the supernatural was at play somehow. The other option was that he had seen Asher freaking out over the strangeness of the market, and had known all along that other worlds were at play.


    When Asher pulled him out of there, he was going to throttle the man.


    Still, Olive and Navarre knowing ¨C even if Olive only told him to get a reaction ¨C meant that there was more to this than a force of nature. A force of un-nature? There was more to the story either way. If Penn had played a part, he wasn¡¯t wholly responsible.


    ¡®Is it possible that the spirits didn¡¯t know?¡¯ Asher asked him.


    Penn¡¯s brow furrowed again. ¡®They always know. They do not think. They just do.¡¯


    ¡®But if it was sudden,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®Like an ambush. If they only told you as soon as it happened, that might be why you didn¡¯t know. Is it possible?¡¯


    ¡®Possible,¡¯ Penn echoed. ¡®But never before.¡¯


    ¡®There¡¯s a first for everything,¡¯ Asher muttered. When Penn glared at him, he added, ¡®Hadley ¨C the witch in Le Torkani ¨C she went through the Gate around the same time your home was attacked, and the people here who¡¯ve been attacking everyone, they are organised under someone who knows about it.¡¯


    ¡®About why the spirits didn¡¯t know?¡¯ Penn asked.


    ¡®No, about the Gate,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®Human¡¯s don¡¯t know about the Gate, or about spirits or witches.¡¯


    ¡®So you are not the only one.¡¯


    Asher laughed despite himself. ¡®No, I¡¯m not the only one.¡¯


    ¡®Is it true they are all dead?¡¯ Penn asked. ¡®Witches. They¡¯ve been killed.¡¯


    Asher nodded. ¡®As far as I can tell.¡¯


    ¡®Then I am glad you are here,¡¯ Penn said. ¡®You should rest. I will stay up. I want to keep watch.¡¯

 Chapter 15.2 - The First Herald

    Asher didn¡¯t sleep. Each time he closed his eyes, he saw guards rushing into the room, spite and hatred and disgust on their faces as they levelled rifles at his face. Each of them were familiar too, faces he knew well that he never wanted to see hold such negativity towards him. Not the Dalvany town guard, who would realistically come for him eventually, but the Ralkauda City Guard. The men he had worked with. Who had worked for him.


    They would come for him.


    He sat by the window, watching between a gap in the curtains as people milled about in the town centre below, leaning out of view of any curious eyes that drifted upwards. His hands shook. He couldn¡¯t get them to stop. Olive would tell Magnus, and the Barque family ruled over Ralkauda. If he didn¡¯t prove his innocence, he would never go home. No one accused in over a century had proven themselves innocent. If he was lucky, he would end up like Gershwin, on the Black Scroll, exiled to somewhere in the country and shot if he tried to leave.


    There wasn¡¯t any way to prove his innocence. He was a witch. Gone was his standing with the guard. Gone was his career. Gone was everything he had known.


    And Navarre had known from the start.


    He didn¡¯t want to believe Olive at face value, but something made the thought stick. Navarre had dismissed Asher when something was wrong in the Town Square. He had also been surprised when Asher pulled his sword on the Alchemist. He¡¯d come up from Fanmaryh, where a strange project to re-colonise Telkesi, but caught in the same mess with his inability to return to Valenda.


    No. If someone in Navarre¡¯s position knew the Underlands were real, then the whole situation would have been handled differently from the start. Right?


    Even if Navarre didn¡¯t, Olive did, and that was proof that the powers in charge knew something about all of this. Not all of it, but some. With the efficiency of this Sovereignty taking control so fast, Asher could shake that it was all part of something bigger. The question was how, and what it had to do with the Gate, what it had to do with Hadley. There was a connection there, he just needed to find it.


    And if Navarre was involved, he was going to pull the man out of Le Torkani just to kick his ass.


    He needed to talk to Sara, somehow without alerting everyone that he was still in town. How he could get out of town, he had no idea. Perhaps Norrah would¡­ No. Magnus would talk to Norrah. Asher hadn¡¯t been honest enough with Norrah to convince her to hear him now, much less help him.


    Penn had gone outside somewhere. He hadn¡¯t said anything, and Asher knew it was stupid to go outside and announce he was in town. Yet, now he felt alone. A weight pushed down heavy against his back, large and dark and bigger than he could even comprehend. It was constant, no matter how much his mind scrambled to find any hold, any flash of light. His face burned and his eyes prickled. His hands still shook.


    ¡®So it is true,¡¯ Teka spoke up from where he lay on the bed. ¡®All of the guardians of your world are gone.¡¯


    Asher turned to see the Nakati man sitting up in the bed, noticeably grey in the face. His eyes watered with the movement, and he rubbed at them impatiently. ¡®How are you feeling?¡¯ He asked.


    Teka smirked. ¡®I¡¯ll be alright. I have spent too long away from my world, and over exerted, that¡¯s all. You seem to be doing worse than I am.¡¯


    Asher flinched. ¡®It¡¯s that obvious?¡¯


    Teka nodded. ¡®We¡¯ve known for a long time that the place between has no-one¡­ well, standing between us and the Fienta. I didn¡¯t want to believe there were no guardians at all though.¡¯


    ¡®You mean the witches?¡¯ Asher asked. When Teka nodded, he felt a lump form in his throat. ¡®They¡¯re all dead.¡¯


    ¡®And now your life is at risk because the guard woman saw you defending Phenrylin.¡¯


    Asher blinked. He¡¯d never considered ¡°Penn¡± would be short for something. He nodded.


    ¡®You know the consequences of magic, but not its purpose,¡¯ Teka said. ¡®It¡¯s not surprising that you¡¯re afraid, but I am disappointed.¡¯


    Asher didn¡¯t say anything. The consequences. He meant being dragged into Le Torkani. Perhaps it had been the reason he¡¯d been pulled into that place in the first place.


    ¡®If you want to feel better,¡¯ Teka said. ¡®You are not a witch.¡¯


    Asher blinked. ¡®I¡¯m not?¡¯


    Teka shook his head. ¡®You are Sier. Some of the skills are the same, but to be a true guardian against the Fienta, the spirits have to accept your oath to stand between. If you show them that you will stand with one world between ours and Le Torkani, they will mark you.¡¯


    ¡®Penn said that Sier meant child,¡¯ Asher said.


    ¡®It means more that you are adolescent in magic,¡¯ Teka said. ¡®Phenrylin never gave much attention to your language. I¡¯m surprised he is as fluent as he is.¡¯


    ¡®You¡¯re Tarneyan is really good,¡¯ Asher mumbled.


    Teka smiled. ¡®I¡¯m glad to hear it. It¡¯s not easy to learn without a teacher.¡¯


    ¡®So you spend a lot of time in our world?¡¯ Asher asked.


    ¡®Some of us do. With so little security in this place, a few of us volunteered to watch over things from this side. I find it¡¯s easier to talk than to hide.¡¯


    ¡®I wish that were true,¡¯ Asher mumbled.


    Teka snorted. ¡®I was an optimist. It worked well enough. Phenrylin had the idea, but he was sure it was an idea to throw away. He has never put much thought into this world. I only hope being trapped here is not hurting him as much as it seems.¡¯


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    ¡®He¡¯s struggling, but I¡¯ll help him if he needs it,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®He was practically rabid, trying to find you.¡¯


    ¡®I saw,¡¯ Teka said. ¡®The end result anyway. And I appreciate you standing by him. I know how different Nakati can seem to humans, and he has never learned the difference.¡¯


    ¡®It¡¯s good how much you care about him,¡¯ Asher mumbled. He was reminded of his mother in a way. She was strict and quick to discipline, but when she praised him it only hit ten times harder. He pushed the sudden pang of loss down.


    ¡®We were not ready,¡¯ Teka said. ¡®Nadu and I. We were told it was our time to receive a child, but we never imagined the Jaliti. When I heard, I knew I had to stay by his side as more than his father. There was always a chance he would be the one to hold the Gate. I didn¡¯t want to be right.¡¯


    ¡®The Fienta called him that,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®Jaliti. That¡¯s why he can¡¯t go home.¡¯


    Teka nodded. ¡®That was my mistake, but it was not one I did on purpose. Our home was overrun, the Gate opened. I didn¡¯t realise they were still waiting for him.¡¯


    ¡®Not opened,¡¯ Penn mumbled. He stood in the doorway, watching both of them with a level gaze. ¡®Destroyed. It cannot be closed again.¡¯


    ¡®I didn¡¯t know that was possible,¡¯ Asher said.


    ¡®Something was different this time,¡¯ Teka said. ¡®We had no warning, and Phenrylin couldn¡¯t push back.¡¯


    ¡®The spirits would not listen to me,¡¯ Penn mumbled. ¡®I wasn¡¯t the one meant to command them.¡¯


    Teka replied in their language, low and firm, but Penn only bristled. ¡®I did what I was supposed to. Everything I was supposed to. They didn¡¯t even tell me. They didn¡¯t want me.¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t understand,¡¯ Asher said.


    ¡®Phenrylin is Jaliti debne Nakati.¡¯ Teka announced the words like a proud title.


    Penn hissed.


    ¡®I don¡¯t know what that means,¡¯ Asher said. Penn glared at him, and a lump formed in his throat. ¡®Maybe we should leave this¡ª¡¯


    ¡®It means he is descended from the First Herald,¡¯ Teka said. ¡®The voice of spirits, the hand of the natural world. King of the Nakati.¡¯


    A noise rumbled out from Ashers throat before he could stop it. Penn¡¯s eyes narrowed, but before Asher could say anything, he shook his head in quiet warning. King. Penn was a King. He didn¡¯t know how to react. All the times Asher had snapped at the man or pulled him along, treated him like someone half mad. He wanted to sink into himself. Disappear.


    Silence fell over the room as Asher considered what this meant, that a King had been by his side this whole time.


    ¡®I didn¡¯t want you to know,¡¯ Penn mumbled.


    ¡®Were you worried I would treat you differently?¡¯ Asher asked. He didn¡¯t look any different at least, but this was only a disguise. Already he was terrified of that creature he had seen out in Valenda, hiding behind a relativity human face. He could believe that was a King of another world. Penn was still Penn. At least, Asher could tell himself that.


    ¡®No,¡¯ Penn said.


    Asher bit down on his tongue, unsure of what to say.


    ¡®I am not a King,¡¯ Penn said. ¡®I am not Jaliti. If I was, then I would have stopped it. The spirits didn¡¯t tell me, even though I did everything. I did what I was told. Still, everyone is dead.¡¯


    ¡®That¡¯s not your fault,¡¯ Asher said, though he didn¡¯t quite know why.


    ¡®No,¡¯ Penn said. ¡®Because I did what I was told. Everything I was told. I did nothing wrong, but it still failed. That means I am not the one who was supposed to. The spirits were wrong.¡¯


    ¡®The spirits can¡¯t be wrong,¡¯ Teka said. ¡®They don¡¯t know what that means.¡¯


    ¡®They were wrong!¡¯ Penn cried. ¡®Or I am the only one since the First Nakati to fail? The only one who was not strong enough? I did everything the way it was supposed to go! And everyone is dead. They¡¯re dead!¡¯


    ¡®No,¡¯ Asher said. He struggled to his feet, his leg screaming at the effort. Penn was shaking, his hands grabbing hold of something that wasn¡¯t there, grasping as he struggled for breaths. ¡®Not dead,¡¯ he pressed. ¡®Look. Teka is here. Your father is here. That counts for something, doesn¡¯t it?¡¯


    ¡®They¡¯re dead,¡¯ Penn said, his voice a strangled grasp.


    ¡®Or they¡¯re trapped in Le Torkani with everyone else,¡¯ Asher said. He swallowed. ¡®You remember my friend, don¡¯t you? Who¡¯s still in there? I am going to get him out, because I refuse to believe he¡¯s dead. So many people got trapped in there, and I¡¯m going to help them too. We can help your people too.¡¯


    ¡®That is an uphill battle, my friend,¡¯ Teka said.


    ¡®So is everything else so far,¡¯ Asher pressed. ¡®I can¡¯t do this alone, and right now I am alone.¡¯


    ¡®You¡¯re not alone,¡¯ Penn mumbled.


    ¡®Neither are you,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®Let me help you. We can fix this.¡¯


    He eased closer to Penn, and the man slumped, his body sagging as though the weight of the world was dropping lower onto his shoulders. ¡®Everyone is dead,¡¯ he mumbled.


    ¡®No,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®Not yet. We can still fix this.¡¯


    ¡®Others were outside of Nakati with me,¡¯ Teka said. ¡®When the Fienta showed up, others got out too.¡¯


    ¡®I closed the door,¡¯ Penn said. ¡®I shut off a whole part of Nakati. I blocked the way.¡¯


    ¡®To stop it spreading,¡¯ Teka said. ¡®But we still got so many out. Not everyone died. That¡¯s why you need to go back. That¡¯s why we need to return to Nakati. Including you, my friend.¡¯


    Asher recoiled. ¡®I¡­ I¡¯m not a Nakati.¡¯


    ¡®No, but you are Sier. Perhaps the only one left. There needs to be guardians and your best chance of appeasing the spirits is in Nakati, where they resign.¡¯


    A cold chill ran down Asher¡¯s spine. ¡®I¡­¡¯ No. He couldn¡¯t do that. He couldn¡¯t give himself to this strange and terrifying world, he still needed to fix this. Somehow. He wouldn¡¯t give up on what he was, or prove any of these people right.


    Would it be so bad if they were right?


    ¡®No,¡¯ Penn said. ¡®No Nakati. No witch. Stop it.¡¯


    ¡®Penn¡­¡¯ Teka¡¯s voice carried a warning growl.


    ¡®No!¡¯ Penn snapped. ¡®We¡¯ve already lost! It¡¯s already over!¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t believe that,¡¯ Asher said.


    ¡®You¡¯re stupid.¡¯


    Asher flinched. ¡®If you think that, then why are you here, still trying? Why did you help me?¡¯


    Penn¡¯s mouth clamped shut, rage simmering in his eyes. The fiery glow behind his pupils was growing brighter, as though the blaze would soon erupt and swallow his whole body.


    ¡®We¡¯re on the same side,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®Right now I need a friend, and so do you. We can still do this.¡¯


    Penn opened his mouth to respond, then snapped it shut again. Asher struggled to meet the man in the eye, the fire behind them now so intense he could feel heat radiating off them. Penn tensed, clenching and unclenching his hands, and Asher was sure he would turn and storm off again, when he instead deflated, dropping his weight down against Asher¡¯s shoulder and holding it there.


    Asher stiffened at the weight, but slowly lifted his own hands ¨C still shaking ¨C and patted Penn¡¯s shoulders. The pats became a hug, which Penn returned, suddenly feeling small and thin and bony. A small, selfish part of him was glad that he wasn¡¯t really a witch, that what he was doing already was enough, but fear still pressed down hard, harder than Penn¡¯s weight on his shoulder. Both of them were in this together now, stuck together no matter what. Still, Asher felt more alone than ever.

 Chapter 16.1 - These Spirits are Weird

    Dawn light broke through the curtains, the only sign of time passing in the little room. Asher had taken his position next to the window again, while Penn kept silent vigil while Teka slept. There was still so much to do in terms of sorting all of this out, but all Asher could think about was Teka¡¯s words. He wasn¡¯t a witch. It was a relief to hear it from someone who knew magic as well as he seemed to, but there was also the added realisation that true witches ¨C by the Nakati definition anyway ¨C didn¡¯t exist.


    He wondered how many of them had been hung. How many had been witches, believed to be working for the opposite side, and how many had been innocent people. With how far back records had been erased, it wouldn¡¯t have surprised Asher if there was nothing at all left of the truth of it. Where did that leave the rest of them?


    If he were to become a real witch, he needed to step out of his world, literally, and the thought came with a deep rooted fear that dug it¡¯s way deeper, a splinter that only sank further under the skin the more he scratched at it. Yet, the dust had been what saved him against those things, where nothing else worked. He couldn¡¯t even control it. How could he make a decision when that dust covered everything and reacted to any seemingly random thing?


    Maybe Olive had been right, and he deserved to be held accountable. Though, he would never work for the Fienta, not willingly or otherwise. The real question was whether it would take becoming a witch to stop them. That meant letting the spirits mark him, and whatever terrifying implication that carried.


    It wasn¡¯t like he had anything left to lose.


    ¡®Teka is not well,¡¯ Penn¡¯s voice was a whisper, drifting up from where he sat next to the bed. Asher turned and saw the man was noticeably pale, his breathing soft but shallow.


    Asher frowned. What could they do, even if Asher wasn¡¯t a fugitive? Any doctor willing to look the other way probably wouldn¡¯t know how to treat someone that wasn¡¯t human. ¡®What if he went back to Nakati and you didn¡¯t? Is that possible?¡¯


    Penn shook his head. ¡®Not strong enough. If you went, it would be dangerous. You didn¡¯t¡­¡¯ he stammered, struggling to find the word. ¡®He tried and you fell over,¡¯ he said instead. His features darkened. ¡®I don¡¯t know where any other Nakati would be.¡¯


    ¡®I could get the¡­¡¯ Asher trailed off. No, he couldn¡¯t get his hands on the other reports of animal attacks. Not while Olive insisted he was a witch. There had to be a way to prove he was innocent, but how could he honestly when he had used magic? The whole thing was a mess.


    Asher strained to think of anyone who could help them right now. Lord Barque was out, and the Dalvany Captain and her lieutenants would be following the orders of Olive. Norrah¡­ maybe, but she was stretched thin and her patience for him was already wearing out. Clyde and the other workers had told him to stay away. Evelyn maybe? With the right words, she¡¯d be willing to hear him out, but it felt dirty and dishonest somehow. It felt wrong to drag her into the truth of all of this.


    He turned back to the window, scanning the thin crowd scattered along the square below. He didn¡¯t recognise any of the faces.


    With what else he needed to do, he considered Sara and Gershwin. Gershwin couldn¡¯t help them, with the Black Scroll, but Sara theoretically could, and he did need to talk to her about what really happened to Hadley. It felt twice as slimy as reaching out to Evelyn, after what they had done, but he was running out of options.


    ¡®I¡­ might know someone,¡¯ Asher mumbled. When Penn perked up, he flinched. He¡¯d apologise later. ¡®Out on the farms, there were two women who knew about magic. They were the ones who fixed my leg, so maybe¡­¡¯


    ¡®They told you the word Sier?¡¯ Penn asked.


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    Asher nodded. ¡®One of them can see spirits.¡¯


    ¡®You ended up there?¡¯ Penn asked. ¡®In a ring?¡¯


    Asher nodded again. Before he could say anything, Penn tore across the room and out the door, his footsteps echoing out across the stairs, then nothing. Teka shifted, but stayed asleep.


    Everything fell into a haze. Asher might have slept, but there was no way to tell how much time had passed when his brain snapped back to alertness. The sky outside was grey and cold, not showing any sun or light that told him how much time had passed. Teka slept the whole time, and Asher didn¡¯t know what to do to help him, or if he could do anything.


    Anxiety kept creeping up, the now familiar icy fingers running across the back of his neck, but he forced it down. Nothing would be fixed if he started panicking. He needed to be professional about this.


    Was that even possible anymore?


    Footsteps sounded long before Penn could get to the farms and back, and the anxiety turned to fear.


    Asher struggled to his feet, leaning on the chair to keep his weight to his good leg. He needed to hide, but he couldn¡¯t leave Teka. Maybe it would be alright as long as the man stayed asleep, but where would he hide? Who would come up here? Temperence maybe?


    ¡®Asher?¡¯ A familiar voice rang out from the stairs. ¡®Asher, are you here?¡¯


    Asher paused. It was Sara.


    She looked the same as he remembered, except her long, braided hair had been pulled up into a bun and she wore neater travellers clothes. Still, it was a shock to see her face again. Asher remembered all her warnings, how much it had seemed to hurt her, and a creeping, slimy shame worked its way through him.


    ¡®Hi,¡¯ he managed.


    ¡®Hello,¡¯ Sara said. ¡®Your friend caught me on my way into town, and¡ª oh!¡¯ She recoiled at the sight of Teka on the bed. ¡®Is that a Nakati?¡¯


    ¡®You know about the Nakati?¡¯ Asher flinched as the words escaped; that had been a stupid question.


    ¡®Of course,¡¯ Sara said. ¡®You¡¯ve made friends fast.¡¯


    ¡®He needs help,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®I didn¡¯t know who else to ask.¡¯


    ¡®Of course.¡¯ Sara rushed over to the side of the bed, pressing the back of her hand against the man¡¯s forehead. ¡®Gershwin is better with the balms, but I can give him a few basics and see if that helps.¡¯ She sighed, and her hand fell to her side. ¡®I¡¯d ask why he¡¯s here, but things are getting worse, aren¡¯t they?¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t know about worse,¡¯ Asher mumbled.


    ¡®Your leg is going to get worse if you keep standing on it,¡¯ Sara said. ¡®Sit down.¡¯


    Asher dropped automatically into the seat next to the bed.


    ¡®I don¡¯t know what¡¯s changing,¡¯ Sara continued. ¡®But everything is irritated and backwards. I can¡¯t ignore the spirits like I usually do; they keep pulling me¡­ somewhere.¡¯


    Temperence had said the same thing, that the spirits had pulled her out onto the street, where she¡¯d eventually found him and Penn. ¡®I don¡¯t understand enough of it to tell you anything,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®All I know is that nothing¡¯s pulling me.¡¯


    ¡®I told them no,¡¯ Penn muttered. ¡®You help me. They leave you alone.¡¯


    ¡®Oh.¡¯ Asher didn¡¯t know if that was a good thing or not. It meant he could continue looking into this without distractions at least. Though he couldn¡¯t bring himself to talk to Sara about Hadley. The questions were on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn¡¯t force them out. She was helping them, had helped him; it wasn¡¯t right.


    ¡®You¡¯ve been digging, haven¡¯t you?¡¯ Sara asked.


    Asher flinched, even though there wasn¡¯t anything accusatory in her voice.


    ¡®I told you to leave witchcraft alone.¡¯ Sara said. ¡®That it was more dangerous the more you learned. Just tell me you¡¯re being careful, please.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯m trying,¡¯ Asher mumbled. Anxiety spiked against the back of his head again. ¡®I¡­¡¯ What would happen if he told her what happened? Would it make her mad, or garner enough sympathy that the questions about Hadley wouldn¡¯t hit so hard? He didn¡¯t even know why he was hesitating. It was his job to ask questions. He¡¯d asked hard ones before. Though, it had never been so personal before either.

 Chapter 16.2 - Everything Comes Apart

    Sara pulled a side table closer to the bed, and began rummaging through her bag to pull out small satchels. When she glanced up at him, there was sadness there, pity, and something he couldn¡¯t quite place.


    ¡®The Guard Captain accused me of witchcraft,¡¯ he blurted out.


    The satchel in her hands dropped to the floor with a heavy thunk, though Sara¡¯s hands remained frozen as though she were still holding it. Asher watched the colour drain from her face, and another sickly wave of guilt washed over him.


    ¡®I¡¯m sorry,¡¯ he said. ¡®I know you told me to be careful, but¡ª¡¯


    ¡®Asher, I¡¯m so sorry,¡¯ Sara whispered. ¡®I should have¡­ I should have told you they weren¡¯t real. Most people will stop seeing them after a while. If I hadn¡¯t¡ª¡¯


    ¡®No, that¡¯s the thing,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®I didn¡¯t. I mean, I didn¡¯t mean to.¡¯


    Sara¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡®What do you mean?¡¯


    ¡®It¡¯s all this¡­ this stuff.¡¯ His frustration bled into the words, and he bit it down, forcing himself to be calm. ¡®It¡¯s getting everywhere and reacting to everything and I didn¡¯t even do anything but it still¡ª¡¯


    ¡®Breathe,¡¯ Sara pressed. ¡®Please, sweetie. Breathe.¡¯


    He couldn¡¯t. Now that it was all out in the open, it had possessed him completely, scattering every other thought and movement. His lungs tightened, refusing to let air in. His hands were shaking again. They were still covered in that strange dust.


    ¡®Asher, I can¡¯t help both of you like this,¡¯ Sara pressed. ¡®I need you to breathe. Slow down. Take a few deep breaths. Please.¡¯


    Asher swallowed, driving his palms into his knees and forcing them to still. Sara scooped up the satchel from the floor and pulled all of her small collection open.


    ¡®I know you¡¯re scared. Believe me, I do, but there¡¯s nothing you can do for the moment. I won¡¯t tell anyone you¡¯re here, and I don¡¯t think the bartender will either. You have time to sort this out.¡¯


    Asher pulled in a deep breath, holding it until he grew dizzy. She was right of course, but it was more than that. ¡®I need to know how this works,¡¯ he said. ¡®Properly. I know you told me that I shouldn¡¯t¡ª¡¯


    ¡®Well, it¡¯s too late for that,¡¯ Sara said. She sighed. ¡®There¡¯s a way to control it, the dust I mean, but this isn¡¯t the right time. The spirits aren¡¯t acting the way they should.¡¯


    ¡®The gate,¡¯ Penn said. ¡®They know it¡¯s about to open.¡¯


    Sara paused. ¡®I hope you¡¯re being pessimistic.¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t think he is,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®The Nakati are here because their home has been destroyed.¡¯


    ¡®Oh¡­¡¯ Sara shifted, staring intently at the spread across the little table, though her hands only knocked the little bags back and forth. ¡®I¡­ I want to say I¡¯m surprised, but I¡­ oh, by the three. Is that really what¡¯s happening here?¡¯


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    ¡®I don¡¯t know,¡¯ Asher mumbled. ¡®I¡¯m still trying to figure out what¡¯s going on.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯d rather that before we start thinking¡­ Asher, do you know what it means if the Gate is opening?¡¯


    ¡®I know it¡¯s not good,¡¯ Asher said.


    ¡®It¡¯s the end,¡¯ Sara pressed. ¡®Back during the first King¡¯s war, the gate opening was the same as the first of the sleeping gods waking up. It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s the end.¡¯


    A shiver ran down the base of Asher¡¯s spine. ¡®Okay, that¡¯s bad.¡¯


    ¡®It¡¯s true,¡¯ Penn said. ¡®I don¡¯t know what is waking up, but the gate is growing weak. It¡¯s not the end though. It needs to be stopped.¡¯


    ¡®I would agree to that,¡¯ Sara mumbled. ¡®But witches¡­ there¡¯s no-one on this side to close it.¡¯


    ¡®That¡¯s true,¡¯ Penn said.


    ¡®Is that why you¡¯re here?¡¯ Sara asked. ¡®I¡¯m sorry, I don¡¯t usually see Nakati in this world. I hope it¡¯s not rude.¡¯


    Penn¡¯s eyes narrowed and Asher wondered for a moment if he was going to start growling at her, but he instead tilted his head. ¡®You have Nakati marks.¡¯


    Sara laughed nervously, then reached up and caught a small wisp of a spirit as it sailed past. Black dust rained from her fist and into the bag, before she sealed it up. ¡®I don¡¯t know what that means, but I¡¯ve been to Nakati, yes.¡¯


    ¡®That¡¯s where you spent time in another world?¡¯ Asher asked. ¡®Nakati?¡¯


    ¡®It¡¯s not quite as exciting as being in the Underlands,¡¯ Sara said. ¡®But yes, when I was a little girl, I wondered in after a strange group.¡¯


    ¡®Oh.¡¯ Asher shifted in his seat as Sara shook the little bag violently, the contents inside thrashing with a hissing sound. She then turned to Penn, and handed the bag out to him.


    ¡®It¡¯s better that you do it,¡¯ Sara said. ¡®It¡¯ll help with his fever, but there¡¯s not much else I can put together without going home first.¡¯


    Penn hesitated, then slowly reached out and took the bag before rushing over to the bed. Sara turned back to Asher, then pressed her hands into her hips.


    She sighed. ¡®What to do with you.¡¯


    ¡®You don¡¯t have to help,¡¯ Asher mumbled. ¡®I don¡¯t want you getting in trouble just for me.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯m ignoring the pessimism,¡¯ Sara said. ¡®But if you can¡¯t turn back, I¡¯m at least going to¡­ oh, I don¡¯t know. It¡¯s dangerous to throw yourself blind.¡¯


    Now was the time to ask, though Asher still couldn¡¯t bring himself to form the questions. If he handled it as carelessly as he had with Iain, he would lose yet another ally, and he¡¯d be back to square one with helping Teka. Penn had already worked through most of the little bag, drawing a paste across the man¡¯s forehead and across his upper lip.


    ¡®Oh, it¡¯s been so long since I¡¯ve done anything magical,¡¯ Sara said. ¡®I¡¯m probably as rusty as you are.¡¯ She gave a little jump. ¡®I have an idea. I¡¯ll be back in a second.¡¯


    Before Asher could respond, she whirled around and swept down the stairs, out of sight. Penn moved over to the other end of the bed, sitting cross-legged on the side with his back to Asher. He was still watching Teka intently.


    ¡®She¡¯s going to teach you,¡¯ he said.


    ¡®I¡­ think so?¡¯ Asher mumbled.


    ¡®That¡¯s good,¡¯ Penn said.


    ¡®Maybe,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®It¡¯s dangerous, and I don¡¯t want her to¡ª¡¯


    ¡®She said she would,¡¯ Penn said. ¡®Does she know it¡¯s dangerous?¡¯


    ¡®Well, yes, but¡ª¡¯


    ¡®You worry a lot.¡¯


    ¡®Is this really the end of the world?¡¯


    ¡®That¡¯s one story,¡¯ Penn said. ¡®It¡¯s not¡­ I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s real.¡¯


    ¡®I guess it doesn¡¯t have to be,¡¯ Asher mumbled.


    ¡®No,¡¯ Penn said. He shifted and made to turn around, then instead collapsed down on the pillow next to his father. Asher struggled to his feet, and by the time he reached over to pull the blankets up, the man was already asleep. Teka was still and breathing next to him.

 Chapter 16.3 - The Night it Started

    Sara reappeared then, carrying a clay bowl full of bottled alcohol, spirits and wine that sloshed back and forth in their glass cases. She raised an eyebrow at Penn, and Asher waved it away. When she carried the small table to the other side of the room, she gestured for Asher to sit again, and he obeyed as she set to work with another little satchel.


    ¡®You don¡¯t have to do this,¡¯ Asher said.


    ¡®I already said I would,¡¯ Sara said. ¡®Relax, sweetie.¡¯


    ¡®Thank you.¡¯


    She offered him a tight smile that didn¡¯t quite reach her eyes, then set to work. ¡®The first thing I¡¯m going to tell you is that nothing works without the dust. It¡¯s what connects the natural and unnatural, and that makes the magic work.¡¯


    ¡®Because magic is an in between?¡¯ Asher asked.


    Sara nodded. ¡®Witchcraft is standing with one foot in the spirit world and one in the Underlands. Or this world is between both and witchcraft is reaching across both. I can never remember the specifics. The point is that it¡¯s dangerous because it could pull you either way, and humans are supposed to be in this world. That¡¯s how nature works. Does that make sense?¡¯


    ¡®Is that why I can interact with it all?¡¯ Asher asked. ¡®Because I was outside of my natural world?¡¯


    Sara nodded.


    ¡®And you can mix it with herbs and other things?¡¯ Asher asked. ¡®Iain mixed it into his metalwork¡ª¡¯


    Sara recoiled, and Asher flinched.


    ¡®I¡¯m sorry,¡¯ he said quickly. ¡®I¡­¡¯


    ¡®You spoke to Iain?¡¯


    Asher nodded.


    ¡®He still thinks I killed Hadley, doesn¡¯t he?¡¯


    Asher swallowed. Idiot, he chided himself. ¡®He¡­ he had a few comments.¡¯


    Sara nodded, not meeting his eye. ¡®Why are you looking into it all? No, I mean¡­ do you really think I killed her?¡¯


    ¡®No,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®For one thing, she¡¯s not dead.¡¯


    Sara snorted, then wiped her nose with her sleeve. ¡®Why?¡¯


    ¡®I want to understand why this is happening,¡¯ Asher mumbled. ¡®She was my only lead, and¡­ I didn¡¯t want to drag you back into it all.¡¯


    ¡®You¡¯re worried about me?¡¯ Sara asked. ¡®You don¡¯t know me. For all you know, I am a witch who kills people in some sacrificial celebration.¡¯


    ¡®You also saved my life,¡¯ Asher pointed out. ¡®I owe you that much.¡¯


    Sara shifted, twisting her hands together. ¡®You¡¯re an odd one, for a guardsman.¡¯


    Asher squirmed in his chair. ¡®I¡¯m not a guardsman anymore.¡¯ The words felt like a knife in his chest. Even if his leg healed, the accusation would carry through his career. He would spend the rest of his life pushing back against it.


    ¡®But you¡¯re investigating,¡¯ Sara said. ¡®And you want to ask questions.¡¯


    ¡®If you don¡¯t mind,¡¯ Asher said.


    Sara twisted her fingers together again, then sighed, her whole-body deflating at the effort. ¡®I¡¯ll tell you what you want to know, but only because you aren¡¯t going to like what I¡¯m doing here.¡¯


    ¡®Should I be worried?¡¯ Asher asked.


    ¡®I¡¯m not going to hurt you,¡¯ Sara said. ¡®Not physically. This is all¡­ it¡¯s not real. It¡¯s a way to show you how it works without actually pushing you too far. Does that make sense?¡¯


    ¡®Not really.¡¯


    Sara managed a smile. ¡®It¡¯s hard to explain, but magic is not¡­ it¡¯s not a matter of willpower. When you do your guardsman stuff, you march and run and use your muscles, and it¡¯s about pushing your body, right?¡¯


    ¡®I guess,¡¯ Asher said.


    ¡®This isn¡¯t that. Every time you use the dust, you¡¯re dragging a spirit from their world into this one. The stronger the magic, the further you reach in, so it¡¯s not a matter of pushing yourself but not reaching too far. Let me show you.¡¯


    She raised her hands and let them hover over the bowl, and after a long press of silence, a gentle mist rose up, the liquid inside turning to smoke. Sara bit her lip, then traced her finger across the table, drawing a ring of ash into the surface.


    ¡®You get dizzy, don¡¯t you?¡¯ Sara asked. ¡®Or nauseous? I get so sick every time I go deeper.¡¯


    ¡®I did the first time,¡¯ Asher said.


    ¡®So you¡¯re only on the surface,¡¯ Sara said. ¡®That¡¯s good, that makes it easy. Here. Try and put your hands in the bowl.¡¯


    Asher raised his hands in a mirror of how Sara had held them, and the burning pain prickling across his skin spread through his palm. He hissed in pain, but grit his teeth against it. He was nowhere near the liquid in the bowl, but when he braced to push his hands down further, it felt like touching liquid iron, an invisible barrier that seared his skin off.


    ¡®Do you see?¡¯ Sara asked. ¡®It¡¯s like breaking through a barrier and pulling it apart. You¡¯re not supposed to, but once you break through, the hole stays there. Does that make sense?¡¯


    ¡®I think so,¡¯ Asher said.


    ¡®Of course, the more people doing it, the easier it is,¡¯ Sara continued. She reached out and took his hands in hers, her touch gentle and cool against the burning air around the bowl. She eased his palms lower, and Asher flinched, but there wasn¡¯t any pain this time. The skin of his hands still prickled, as though violent pins and needles were enveloping him, but as Sara dropped them down until the back of her hands were touching the liquid surface, nothing happened.


    ¡®It¡¯s still dangerous like this,¡¯ Sara said. ¡®But safer in groups. It¡¯s like a chain. The longer the chain, the further you can reach.¡¯ She bit her lip. ¡®But also you can¡¯t tell when you¡¯ve gone too far either. That¡¯s why it¡¯s dangerous. If you go too far you¡¯re putting yourself in a place you¡¯re not supposed to be, and that place will try and make you belong there. It corrupts, and if you¡¯re lucky, it will kill you. If you¡¯re not¡­¡¯


    ¡®The Gate will open?¡¯ Asher asked.


    Sara nodded. ¡®All those creatures you met with. They were human once. They can¡¯t turn back.¡¯


    ¡®They¡­ they were all witches?¡¯ Asher couldn¡¯t recall faces or how many of them there had been; even now it was all a blurry haze.


    ¡®No, you don¡¯t have to be a witch to break the laws of nature,¡¯ Sara said. ¡®Anyone can commit an irredeemable act in the eye of nature. It¡¯s just¡­ more obvious for people like us. People who can see it all working.¡¯


    ¡®So if I don¡¯t touch it¡­¡¯


    Sara¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡®Asher, I need you to understand just how dangerous this is. Even if you do it properly, you¡¯re breaking a hole in the world that wasn¡¯t there before. There will always be spirits, as long as there is life, but it only takes that one final decision to break you. Please, tell me you understand.¡¯


    ¡®I won¡¯t go in deeper,¡¯ Asher pressed. ¡®I promise. I just¡ª¡¯


    ¡®No, you¡¯re not getting it,¡¯ Sara said. ¡®You need to understand. I¡¯m sorry.¡¯


    Before Asher could ask, she thrust his hands deep into the liquid in the bowl and let go of him.


    Pain swallowed him whole, so complete and agonising that Asher couldn¡¯t even scream. He couldn¡¯t pull away, couldn¡¯t move, but was trapped in place as that same molten hot air flayed through his skin and stabbed at his bones, burning the marrow inside and exploding with a force that threatened to tear him apart. His muscles seized, his spine cracked and contorted, and his skull was ready to burst behind his eyes, shards of bone breaking out of the skin, ripping him apart from the inside. He wanted to scream, he wanted to die, but there was only pain.


    Sara slashed her finger across the line surrounding the bowl, and a force slammed into his chest, finally knocking him away and throwing the chair back. His head slammed into the ground, stars splattering across his vision as his teeth knocked together. The pain was gone, but in it¡¯s place his body buzzed with a million ants under the skin. A groan escaped from somewhere in his chest. Then, through his watery and blurred vision, Sara hovered over him.


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    ¡®Tell me you understand,¡¯ she said.


    Asher sucked in air, and deep hacking coughs shook through him. ¡®I get it,¡¯ he said. ¡®You didn¡¯t have to do that.¡¯


    ¡®I did,¡¯ Sara said. ¡®Oh, I know it¡¯s horrible, but now you know what you¡¯re getting into.¡¯


    ¡®There¡¯s gotta¡ª¡¯ his voice caught as another hacking cough made his chest spasm. ¡®Got to be an easier way to do it.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯ve tried before,¡¯ Sara said. ¡®It never ends well. I won¡¯t let someone else get broken apart by all of this.¡¯


    She held out her hand, and Asher wondered if there was another trick waiting, if he¡¯d really put his only confidence in a sadist. Yet, when he took it and she pulled him to his feet, nothing happened. As he straightened the chair and sat back down, the bed creaked next to them. Teka shifted, then rolled over onto his side.


    ¡®Someone else?¡¯ Asher echoed.


    Sara flinched, but the guilt he¡¯d felt before was less prominent now.


    ¡®You¡¯re talking about Hadley, aren¡¯t you?¡¯


    Sara nodded.


    ¡®What happened that night?¡¯ Asher asked. ¡®If she¡¯s in that place and she¡¯s not a Fienta, then how did she get there?¡¯


    ¡®I¡­¡¯ Sara shifted, then dropped back into her own seat like a doll with its strings cut. ¡®It was my fault. I pushed her in.¡¯


    Asher shivered. ¡®Why?¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t remember all the details. It all happened so fast.¡¯


    ¡®Then tell me what you do remember,¡¯ Asher said. When Sara didn¡¯t answer, he leaned forward. ¡®I know she was your friend, but I really think something weird is happening with all of this, and there¡¯s a trail I need to follow. Penn said the spirits didn¡¯t tell him the Fienta were coming. They were supposed to, and they didn¡¯t.¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t think they knew,¡¯ Teka spoke up from the bed, pulling himself into a sitting position. When Asher made to protest, he raised a hand. ¡®Whatever you have done, it is working well,¡¯ he said. ¡®I feel well enough.¡¯


    ¡®That¡¯s a relief,¡¯ Asher mumbled.


    ¡®If you want to know what happened that night, then so do I,¡¯ Teka said. ¡®The only reason many of us survived is because we have been travelling into this world. There are no guardians here and someone had to do it. Many of us were halfway here when the Gate split.¡¯


    ¡®Split?¡¯ Asher asked. ¡®But didn¡¯t open?¡¯


    ¡®No, you know when a Gate has opened. It changes the laws of the world; mine and yours. This wasn¡¯t that.¡¯


    ¡®I did suggest that maybe the spirits had no warning,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®Penn didn¡¯t know if it was possible.¡¯


    ¡®It shouldn¡¯t be,¡¯ Teka said. ¡®But if it happens fast enough, then it makes sense.¡¯


    Asher turned back to Sara. ¡®If this was the same night Hadley¡ª¡¯


    ¡®No, that¡¯s not possible,¡¯ Sara pressed. ¡®Hadley went too far, she destroyed her body to¡­ I mean, I thought she had died with that amount of magic, but the Gate taking someone in isn¡¯t enough to break it apart.¡¯


    ¡®She¡¯s right,¡¯ Teka said. He tilted his head. ¡®What spell did she try and cast?¡¯


    ¡®Oh, I don¡¯t remember.¡¯ Sara ran her fingers through her hair. ¡®It¡¯s all a blur, and I try not to think about it. It wasn¡¯t good for any of us.¡¯


    ¡®No single witch could create that much of a split,¡¯ Teka said. ¡®If that¡¯s what concerns you.¡¯


    ¡®It was autumn, right?¡¯ Asher asked. ¡®Both of these things happened in autumn.¡¯


    Teka nodded. ¡®You call it equinox. The middle day. Nadu would tell you all tales about an in-between and what it means, but I couldn¡¯t tell you why that¡¯s important.¡¯


    Sara¡¯s eyes widened. ¡®Blessed spirits.¡¯


    Asher nodded at the confirmation, but a sick feeling bubbled in the base of his stomach. ¡®It was the same day.¡¯


    ¡®I remember that.¡¯ Sara¡¯s voice was a whisper. ¡®Gershwin is superstitious about all that. She was on edge. I was on edge. Something was wrong and neither of us could figure out what it was.¡¯


    ¡®Was Hadley worried too?¡¯ Asher asked.


    ¡®No¡­ yes! Yes, she was frantic, she was manic, she¡­ oh by the three, she knew something was wrong.¡¯


    ¡®Tell me what happened,¡¯ Asher pressed. ¡®It¡¯s important.¡¯


    ¡®She came to us,¡¯ Sara said. ¡®She was so scared of¡­ something. Oh, I don¡¯t remember what! She was scared and rambling, she wasn¡¯t making any sense. And it was the middle of the night. We weren¡¯t in bed yet, but we were close, and we were restless too, because something was going on and we didn¡¯t know what. Then Hadley was pounding on the door. She¡¯s so small ¨C well, she was ¨C is ¨C taller than me ¨C but that amount of strength¡­


    ¡®She needed us, and we had to go now, and I¡­ what did she want? It was magic, I do remember that. She wasn¡¯t strong enough to do it herself and she needed us. Blessed¡­ I remember her being on her knees, begging for us to go with her and go now. But, I didn¡¯t.¡¯


    ¡®You didn¡¯t go with her?¡¯ Asher asked.


    Sara shook her head. ¡®You can say it, I¡¯m a coward. I was scared and I backed away, and I shouldn¡¯t have. I should have gone with her, but I was so afraid, and with Gershwin¡¯s name on that bloody scroll I didn¡¯t want to¡­ I was so scared, and she had to go alone.¡¯


    ¡®But she couldn¡¯t,¡¯ Asher mumbled. ¡®That¡¯s why she fell into that place. Because she tried to do the magic herself and she wasn¡¯t strong enough.¡¯


    Sara nodded. ¡®I should have¡­ if I¡¯d just gone with her! I should have just done it and it would have been fine!¡¯


    ¡®If she was going to seal the Gate, it wouldn¡¯t have mattered,¡¯ Teka said. ¡®A sier and a witch, it wouldn¡¯t have been enough.¡¯


    Sara shifted, her eyes watering. She didn¡¯t answer.


    ¡®So you didn¡¯t push her,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®She tried to go alone.¡¯


    ¡®If I had gone with her, it wouldn¡¯t have happened!¡¯ Sara cried. ¡®I could have talked her out of it! I could have told her to stay at the house and calmed her down! I could have¡­ I¡­¡¯


    Fresh tears ran down her cheeks. Asher grabbed a small handtowel from the end of the bed and passed it to her. ¡®Could that be what it was?¡¯ he asked Teka. ¡®Could she have known the Gate had split? Even if it means she knew before Penn?¡¯


    ¡®Penn is the hand of the natural world,¡¯ Teka said. ¡®If it is a disturbance in the natural world, the spirits know, and he hears all that they do.¡¯


    ¡®What if it wasn¡¯t the spirits though?¡¯ Asher asked. ¡®What if she knew it would happen because she knew what could cause such a large rift?¡¯


    ¡®That¡¯s very intriguing,¡¯ Teka said. ¡®Of course, you¡¯re assuming that was the goal.¡¯


    ¡®That¡¯s true,¡¯ Asher admitted. ¡®but whatever had her scared has to be connected somehow. She¡¯s already involved and she wasn¡¯t a fienta. Not from what I could tell, anyway.¡¯


    ¡®There had to be something,¡¯ Sara¡¯s voice was soft. ¡®If she used too much, it would have broken her. That¡¯s how it works. The only way it didn¡¯t is if she went in on purpose.¡¯


    ¡®It also means people can survive in there,¡¯ Teka mumbled. The words he didn¡¯t say hung heavy in the air. His partner. Sara''s sullen face told him Hadley was still at the front of her mind.


    ¡®Someone I care about is in there too,¡¯ Asher mumbled. ¡®Not just him. So many people didn¡¯t come back like I did. If there¡¯s a way to fix this, I¡¯m going to find it.¡¯


    ¡®You said a friend was taken,¡¯ Sara said. ¡®Do you care about him that much? You¡¯ll break your soul apart to save him?¡¯


    Asher flinched. He didn¡¯t understand how it always came back to this. ¡®He probably expects me to.¡¯


    ¡®That is a poor answer, my friend,¡¯ Teka said.


    Asher ran his hands through his hair. ¡®I know. The truth is...¡¯ A knot formed in his stomach. ¡®No. No, I don¡¯t care about him like that, but I can¡¯t leave him there either. This isn¡¯t about him. If I don¡¯t get to the bottom of this, it¡¯s only going to get worse. So many people are hurt or missing. I need to know what happened.¡¯


    ¡®Then I¡¯m coming with you,¡¯ Sara said.


    Asher stared at her.


    ¡®You¡¯re a fugitive. You¡¯re going to need help,¡¯ she pressed. ¡®Besides, I need to fix this. I didn¡¯t help before and every day I wish I can take it back. I¡¯ll figure out what Hadley wanted me to do, and I¡¯ll make it better. I¡¯ll... make it up to her.¡¯


    The anxiety that had pressed down so hard before began to ease, adding a weightlessness to his posture he hadn¡¯t felt in a while. He wasn¡¯t alone. He hadn¡¯t been this whole time. He glanced over at Penn, who was still fast asleep.


    ¡®Let him rest,¡¯ Teka said. ¡®He¡¯s never been good at planning anyway, and you seem to need one.¡¯


    Asher wasn¡¯t sure he had one, aside from somehow going outside without being noticed by anyone. No way could he sit here and let everyone else continue this. ¡®What would Hadley have seen?¡¯ he asked Sara. ¡®Realistically, I mean. You knew her and what she was like. What could have happened to scare her?¡¯


    Sara shifted. ¡®Oh, I don¡¯t know, I really don¡¯t.¡¯


    ¡®Please,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®She worked at the dovecot, right? Carrier pigeons?¡¯


    Sara nodded. ¡®She was part of the courier¡¯s guild. Birds travel faster than people, but all she did was care for the birds. It wasn¡¯t like she read any of the mail that came in.¡¯


    The report from Telkesi, with the spirits attached to it. ¡®Was she a sier? Could she see the spirits like we can?¡¯


    ¡®That¡¯s how we became friends,¡¯ Sara said. ¡®When we were teenagers. But the spirits weren¡¯t¡ª¡¯


    Asher rubbed his face. He didn¡¯t have the report on him anymore, but there was a connection there. Was it enough to cause a panic? ¡®Did you know they¡¯re trying to rebuild Telkesi?¡¯


    Sara¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡®What?¡¯


    ¡®I was surprised too. My mother always said there was nothing left, and with Grey Lung it was never safe to go there. I knew a few Telkites as a kid who said they¡¯d accepted it.¡¯


    ¡®Asher, what are you talking about?¡¯ Sara asked.


    ¡®There was a report that came in from Telkesi,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®Covered in spirits and dust, talking about rehabilitating the islands.¡¯ With Navarre¡¯s name on it. Navarre, who knew about Le Torkani. Yet, didn¡¯t do anything when people started falling into that place right in front of him.


    None of this made any sense.


    ¡®Okay, so if she saw a letter that was covered in dust, that means something?¡¯ Sara asked.


    ¡®It got my attention,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®If it got hers, then it would depend on the context of the letter.¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t know where she would keep it,¡¯ Sara said. ¡®But if it made her as frantic as it did, then maybe she dropped it and ran. It might still be in the dovecot. Or it was in her pocket and there¡¯s nothing we can do.¡¯


    ¡®Would she have produced it to prove something was wrong?¡¯ Asher asked.


    Sara paused. Her brow furrowed, and Asher had the answer he needed.


    ¡®We need to start at the dovecot,¡¯ he said. ¡®Retrace her steps from that night.¡¯


    Hopefully it didn¡¯t end in the same kind of tragedy.

 Chapter 17.1 - Clues at the Dovecot

    Sara thankfully seemed to know her way around Dalvany¡¯s back streets. Asher had worried at first when she sped ahead that she was leaving him in the room to do the investigation herself, but she instead came back with a smooth wooden cane and insisted he take it. The nub at the bottom echoed loudly across the cobblestone roads, but they didn¡¯t run into anyone at any point. Penn stayed close on Asher¡¯s heels, his footsteps light and his movements quick, so silent Asher would have been sure he wasn¡¯t there if it wasn¡¯t for the soft shift of fabric rustling in the back of his ears. Occasionally, figures would dart past in neighbouring streets, or they would reach a turn and hear voices echoing out ahead, but there was no point where anyone approached them.


    Only when they¡¯d reached the northern most point of town, the point where houses gave way to forest and the road up to the manor, did Sara lead them out onto a larger road. Asher pulled the hood of his cape up, hoping that with his head down and his commoner clothes, he wouldn¡¯t be immediately recognised.


    The courier outpost wasn¡¯t much different from the one down on the farms, simple wooden buildings with an open side for horses, none of them occupied by animal or otherwise. The main house at the centre was daub, structurally old and sturdy, with an iron mailing box on one side of the door, and a crooked notice board on the other side. Many of the nails sticking out of the board had scraps of cloth or paper stuck under them, a sign of many notices being hastily pulled away. The ones that remained were route timetables and one for a local orchestra performing in the square six months ago. One in the middle had a drawing of his face.


    Asher pulled the paper down, staring at his own likeness in dark charcoal lines. Whoever had drawn it had drawn his hair straight, which only told him this person had never met him before. His name was printed underneath, along with large letters that spelled out ¡°Missing.¡±


    Any information was to be sent directly to Lady Adalynn Norrah.


    A well of hope rose in him. If Norrah was willing to help him out, then maybe he could get these charges dropped after all. Maybe he had a chance.


    Sara glanced at the page over his shoulder, and she frowned. The hope sank down into shame. It wasn¡¯t fair that he would be able to walk free if Gershwin still saw her name on the Black Scroll, and so many saw the end of their life for so much less. No, he wouldn¡¯t go to Norrah and brush this away. He would fix this.


    Asher tore the paper in half, then crumpled the pieces into little balls and shoved them into his pockets. Sara opened her mouth to ask, but he shook his head. ¡®One thing at a time.¡¯


    ¡®Asher, if she can fix this, then let her do it,¡¯ she said. ¡®Why wouldn¡¯t you make this easier for yourself?¡¯


    ¡®Because it won¡¯t be easier,¡¯ Asher pointed out. ¡®It¡¯ll be a back and forth for days or weeks. It¡¯s my word against Captain Delana¡¯s, and even if I have Lady Norrah on my side, she has Lord Barque and this Sovereignty thing on hers.¡¯


    ¡®¡¯These are the same bad one¡¯s hanging around?¡¯ Penn asked. He was standing at the window behind the notice board, peering into the window. ¡®There¡¯s no-one inside.¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t understand,¡¯ Sara said. ¡®You have a way out. You need to take it. No-one else ever gets a chance like this.¡¯


    ¡®That¡¯s not fair,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®That I get to brush all of this off just because she¡¯s my cousin.¡¯


    ¡®¡¯That¡¯s not¡­ Why don¡¯t you want to take this chance?¡¯ Sara asked. ¡®I can tell you right now, no-one is going to accuse you of favouritism. If anything, you could change things for everyone, if you push.¡¯


    I¡­ suppose so,¡¯ Asher hadn¡¯t considered that.


    Sara frowned. ¡®Something has you scared.¡¯


    ¡®I¡ª¡¯


    ¡®What¡¯s wrong?¡¯


    What was wrong with him? Everything seemed to have happened so fast, but Sara was right; he could really fix this if he came clean to Norrah and let her help him clear the charges, which he¡¯d never even confirmed were pressed. Maybe it was the conspiracy building, or it was the fact he couldn¡¯t deny anymore that he was connected to all this magic. Not a witch but¡­ something.


    ¡®I don¡¯t know,¡¯ he mumbled.


    A cracking sound from the building made both of them turn, just as Penn pushed the front door open and let himself inside. Asher cursed and hurried after him. The inside of the main building was thankfully empty, a cramped room made of a counter and an over abundance of shelves stacked with papers and crates. Penn had already rushed around the counter, and was pulling piles down to inspect them.


    ¡®You can¡¯t just let yourself into these places,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®There are rules.¡¯


    Penn turned and fixed him with a blank expression.


    ¡®The door being locked means don¡¯t let yourself in,¡¯ Asher said.


    ¡®It¡¯s open now,¡¯ Penn said.


    Asher opened his mouth to argue, then thought better of it and pinched the bridge of his nose. ¡®Where¡¯s the dovecot?¡¯ he asked Sara.


    Sara eased the door closed behind them, though the door handle had been broken and it no longer clicked in place. ¡®It¡¯s out the back,¡¯ she said. ¡®But maybe your friend here has the right idea.¡¯


    Asher stared down at the broken lock. When he¡¯d been just a guard patrolling the streets, less damage would be enough to make a note for his sergeant, and when he was sergeant, he¡¯d be the one heading the search for the culprit.


    ¡®Asher.¡¯ Sara pulled him from his thoughts as she reached into a crate by the door, pulling free loose papers that had been tossed in there. The contents told Asher it was all discarded junk and rubbish. The papers Sara held had torn corners, similar to the scraps on the board outside, ripped at a point where it might have been nailed in place.


    Reports of Strange Activity or Persons should be reported to Sovereignty.


    Reward in Coin.


    Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    ¡®Oh, you¡¯ve got to be joking,¡¯ Asher muttered. This was the opposite of keeping order in the public. This was lynch mobs and panic and people were only going to turn on each other. If it was enough coin, it wouldn¡¯t matter who pointed the finger for what reason.


    ¡®At least they tore it down,¡¯ Sara said.


    ¡®The Courier¡¯s aren¡¯t getting along with these guys,¡¯ Asher mumbled. ¡®Probably don¡¯t recognise their authority.¡¯ Though, Asher didn¡¯t see how anyone could; they were an emergency response and nothing more, right?


    If they were posting things like this, that probably didn¡¯t matter.


    ¡®I didn¡¯t realise that was an option,¡¯ Sara commented. ¡®Does this mean we can revolt against the system? Is this a revolution?¡¯


    ¡®It is the end of Five Princes,¡¯ Asher pointed out.


    ¡®I found spirits,¡¯ Penn announced.


    Asher made his way behind the counter, his cane rapping against the wooden floor. Much like the papers he had seen in Norrah¡¯s pile, it was covered in small specks of iridescent light, splattered across the page in no order or pattern. As he took the page from Penn, some of the specks turned to dust at his touch.


    Telkesi Project


    Initial Contact and First Results


    Research Survey


    Under Decree of the Sixth King Thaddae Krishnit of Tarinye


    Dated 11.14.3/799


    CIC: Cpt. Navarre Chaverau


    ¡®This one¡¯s different from before,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®Initial Contact?¡¯


    ¡®It¡¯s based out of Raulkauda,¡¯ Sara pointed out. ¡®Wouldn¡¯t Fanmaryh make more sense?¡¯


    She was right; the main address was listed as a place in Raulkada, a good two weeks out from Fanmaryh, where everything Telkesi related had gone down before.


    If this project was based in Raulkauda, what was Navarre doing in Fanmaryh?


    ¡®None of this makes any sense,¡¯ he mumbled.


    Penn pointed to the shelf he had pulled it from, and Asher pulled the rest of the pile down, flicking through envelopes and bound documents, none of them connected to the file in question, until he came to another loose piece of paper at the bottom. There were no spirits on this one, but the address was the same.


    A summons, the same that had brought him from Ralkauda in the first place, but this one was addressed ¨C and obviously not sent ¨C to Henri Tremboui.


    What in the Underlands is going on here?


    ¡®Another one,¡¯ Penn said. This one was a bound folder, closed with a wax circle holding the strings in place. Rather than the splattering of flecks, this one had soft wisps bleeding out from the edges, so fine and transparent it hurt his eyes to look at them.


    ¡®That looks perfect.¡¯ Asher took the file and broke the seal with his thumb, then dropped the files onto the counter. Again, the same label. Telkesi Project. Navarre¡¯s name across the top, and a date from last year, towards the end of summer.


    A requisition to move the base of operations. From Fanmaryh to Ralkauda. Then Ralkauda to Dalvany. The Dalvany one was signed H. Tremboui. Beneath that was a list of names, small barons and counts throughout the mountains, local sergeants and a few city captains, and his name. A. Wulverman. The word Liuetenant had been crossed out next to it, with a penned note that read ¡°Henri¡¯s Ward.¡¯


    Another note had been written in a different pen. ¡°This one.¡± That note had been circled in thick, black ink.


    ¡®Is that¡­ you?¡¯ Sara asked. She traced his name with her finger, and he nodded.


    ¡®Navarre mentioned they were considering a few different people to be brought in,¡¯ he said. ¡®But I assumed it was for¡­ public response. For the city disappearing.¡¯


    ¡®This Navarre?¡¯ Sara pointed to the top of the page. Asher nodded again. A sick feeling was bubbling in his stomach. Navarre was involved in this, somehow, and he¡¯d tried to bring Asher in on it too. This had never been about a whole city disappearing.


    Or had it? Had they known something like this would happen? Had the King, even though he was in the middle of its disaster?


    Asher flicked through the rest of the pages, but most of it was transfer papers, new staff and outsourced contractors, transfers and a chain of command. He paused. Chain of Command.


    Navarre was at the top of the list, but so was Magnus Barque. Henri Tremboui. Olive Delana. Other names he didn¡¯t recognise, but they had titles. Barons. Captains. Magistrates.


    ¡®Oh no,¡¯ Sara breathed. ¡®This is¡­ what is this list?¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t know,¡¯ Asher admitted, ¡®but I don¡¯t like it.¡¯


    ¡®The Dovecot is out the back,¡¯ Sara said. ¡®We should look.¡¯


    ¡®We should,¡¯ Asher agreed. Penn raised an eyebrow in question, and Asher pointed to a back door next to one of the overstuffed shelves. Penn bounced over to the door, and it thankfully opened without him breaking it. Sara didn¡¯t move from the counter though. She was still staring down at the papers.


    ¡®This is insane,¡¯ she mumbled. ¡®What are they doing?¡¯


    ¡®That¡¯s what we¡¯re trying to find out,¡¯ Asher said.


    ¡®No, I mean¡­¡¯ she pointed to a part of the page. ¡®These requisitions. These numbers can¡¯t be real.¡¯


    Asher stared at her.


    ¡®Okay, so if I¡­ when one of our fences falls over, we always order four times the length of what went down, because if one part of the fence breaks, then the rest of it might be ready to go too,¡¯ Sara said. ¡®Sometimes it means we have extra stuff in storage, but we always end up needing it eventually. Even with the same logic, some of these supplies are enough to build a city.¡¯


    ¡®A city like Valenda?¡¯ Asher asked.


    Sara¡¯s eyes widened, and she scanned the pages again. She chewed on her bottom lip as she studied them. ¡®No, not¡­ it depends on what they¡¯re ordering as extra. If none of it is spare then¡­ maybe? Even the minimum extra of¡­ let¡¯s say five percent, isn¡¯t enough for a city as big as Valenda, but it could match Dalvany¡¯s size easily. Maybe Fanmaryh if you planned it right? The problem is the material. Iron? Smelted copper? Bricks and clay?¡¯


    ¡®Sounds like a fortress,¡¯ Asher commented.


    ¡®Hadley knew about something really big, didn¡¯t she?¡¯


    ¡®I think we already knew that.¡¯ Asher could see thoughts spinning behind her eyes, the same expression she¡¯d had at the inn. ¡®We¡¯re going to figure this out,¡¯ he pressed.


    ¡®I should have¡ª¡¯


    ¡®You¡¯re helping now,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®That counts for something.¡¯


    Sara flinched. ¡®Okay.¡¯ She didn¡¯t seem completely convinced.


    The dovecot was a little brick building out the back of the property, with a turret connected to one side. Small holes had been punched evenly throughout the entire thing, and ivy had claimed most of the brick. The ground between the main building and the dovecot was overgrown and uneven, and as soon as Asher placed his cane on the path, it sank into the mud.


    Penn was already in the little structure, rummaging around, and by the time Asher struggled over to it, Sara had already gone in and come out again, shaking her head. ¡®It¡¯s empty. I think it has been for a while.¡¯


    The smell was still there; old hay and dirt and shit. The holes in the walls gave way to small wooden shelves on either side, small homes for birds that were no longer around. Asher tried to recall any point he¡¯d seen pigeons around town, but they weren¡¯t something he¡¯d ever paid particular attention too.


    ¡®The town abandoned the inn fast when they thought Temperance was a witch,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®Wouldn¡¯t surprise me if they did the same here.¡¯


    ¡®There¡¯s nothing here,¡¯ Sara mumbled. ¡®There¡¯s nothing left.¡¯


    ¡®So we look somewhere else,¡¯ Penn said. ¡®Asher keeps going other places.¡¯


    ¡®Uh¡­ yeah, we can do that,¡¯ Asher said. Where though? The whole point was to follow Hadley¡¯s final moments, but it had been too long and they had little to work with. Unless they followed the requisitions. That was odd enough to look into at least. If he understood what Navarre was really involved in, with Henri, with Olive, with Lord Barque¡­ it was the edge of a full blown conspiracy and that thought made him dizzy. Conspiracies weren¡¯t just crimes or disorder; this could easily kill any of them if they opened the wrong door.


    ¡®I think we could try that Dalvany address,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®Where they¡¯ve been relocated too. But maybe you should¡ª¡¯


    ¡®Don¡¯t even start,¡¯ Sara snapped. ¡®I told you I¡¯m coming with you and you won¡¯t talk me out of it.¡¯


    ¡®If this is as big as it looks, it¡¯s dangerous,¡¯ Asher pointed out.


    ¡®You haven¡¯t been listening to me, have you?¡¯ Sara sighed. ¡®Sweetie, you¡¯re a good kid, but pay attention please. This has always been dangerous for both of us.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯m tired of this talk,¡¯ Penn said. ¡®Can we go now?¡¯


    ¡®He¡¯s right, we don¡¯t have time for this,¡¯ Sara said. ¡®You can¡¯t do this alone, you know that.¡¯


    ¡®I¡ª¡¯ The words were a punch in the gut, and his leg ached as if it was agreeing with her.


    A loud screech was Asher¡¯s only warning before a rush of feathers burst through one of the tiny windows and slammed into his back. The weight stayed there, clinging to his shoulder and pushing down, and even as Asher tensed, too afraid to move, claws dug into his collar, breaking through his coat and stabbing flesh.

 Chapter 17.2 - Follow the Birds

    The crow was the same size as his head, sleek and tall with a single red eye fixed on him, and no sign that it intended to leave his shoulder. Asher¡¯s heart raced, but he couldn¡¯t move. If he tried, the thing would surely turn those talons to his face.


    ¡®Hadley?¡¯ Sara¡¯s voice was a whisper.


    The bird trilled loud against Asher¡¯s ear, a pitched warble that made the woman smile.


    ¡®Not a bird,¡¯ Penn said. ¡®Not a human bird.¡¯


    Sara reached out and stroked the feathers of its chest. The creature warbled again.


    ¡®Can someone get it off me?¡¯ Asher asked. The rustling of feathers was loud, loud enough that Asher could see other birds coming in behind him, enough to cover him, to scratch and tear until he woke up somewhere else. He rolled his shoulder, but the crow stayed firm.


    Sara pried at the claws digging into him, and the bird hoped from his shoulder, taking the weight and the rising anxiety with it, settling in on Sara¡¯s hand. Sara grinned like a little kid, and rubbed a spot at the base of it¡¯s beak. The crow trilled again, and pressed into it.


    ¡®She used to feed them,¡¯ Sara said. ¡®Even when we were kids. Sometimes they followed her around. It¡¯s her, isn¡¯t it? Did she send this one to us?¡¯


    Penn frowned and stepped in next to her. He spoke low and stern in his own language, staring unblinking at the creature as it stilled in Sara¡¯s hand. The crow responded with an angry caw that made Asher and Sara jump, and Penn hissed in reply. The bird then took off in a flurry of feathers, shooting through the little window and disappearing.


    ¡®Was that one of her birds?¡¯ Sara asked Penn.


    ¡®It¡¯s not a bird,¡¯ Penn said. ¡®It wants us to follow.¡¯


    Asher peered through the little window it had escaped through, ignoring the long dried droppings that stained the brick, and saw the creature sitting on the roof of the main building. It was unnaturally still, watching them. Another flew down and sat next to it, matching that uncanny, unmoving posture.


    He really didn¡¯t like these things.


    ¡®Should we trust it?¡¯ he asked Sara.


    Sara bit her lip. ¡®I trust Hadley, if that¡¯s what you mean.¡¯ She nodded. ¡®I think we should.¡¯


    ¡®Alright,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®But if any more show up, run.¡¯


    ***


    Asher would never have described a bird as impatient before, but these creatures were impatient. Sara led them through the back streets once more, slowly, checking for anyone who might cross their path, and each time they turned away from the crow, another would appear in front of them and caw angrily. At one point Penn snapped at them, gesturing like an old man irritated by the noise, but the birds paid no attention.


    ¡®I didn¡¯t know you could talk to animals,¡¯ Asher asked at one point, keeping his voice low even though they hadn¡¯t seen anyone yet.


    ¡®They¡¯re not animals,¡¯ Penn said.


    ¡®Spirits?¡¯


    Penn shook his head. ¡®They do not listen to me. They¡¯re supposed to.¡¯


    ¡®I think they¡¯re following Hadley,¡¯ Asher pointed out.


    Penn¡¯s face twisted in disdain. ¡®They¡¯re not of this world. They follow me, or the spirits will make them go back.¡¯


    ¡®Can you tell the spirits they¡¯re helping us?¡¯ Asher asked.


    ¡®They are helping us,¡¯ Penn said. ¡®That¡¯s why they can stay. They need to follow, and they won¡¯t.¡¯


    ¡®They are very stubborn creatures,¡¯ Sara said.


    ¡®If they¡¯re not spirits, then what are they?¡¯ Asher asked. ¡®Not Fienta, right?¡¯


    Penn shook his head. ¡®Not Fienta.¡¯


    He didn¡¯t elaborate further.


    Asher was sure they were heading out to the farms again, as they were led further down the mountain and all he could think about was the effort of climbing back up to the main part of town. Instead, at the same moment he realised they drew closer to the address of the relocation on the papers, each of the birds came to a stop at an old postal office. It was small and nondescript, a simple, single storied brick box shoved between a bakery and a grocer. The dust and cobwebs around the windows told him it¡¯d been closed up for a while. Penn tested the door, and when it didn¡¯t open, he drove his shoulder into the wood, breaking the lock from its hold.


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    ¡®We really need to talk about you doing that,¡¯ Asher commented. He really was becoming someone past him would have hated. Talking about helping and doing the right thing, but doing¡­ this.


    The inside was empty, long abandoned, ransacked and abandoned again. Planks of wood sat scattered amongst dust and broken pieces of wood, years of moisture merging them into the floor. The smell of mould hung heavy, joined with questionable black spots climbing the far corner. A lone, large spider dangled from the ceiling, spinning lazily around and around.


    Penn made for a single door at the back, bouncing over a raised panel where a counter might have been, but this door held fast, not moving no matter how much force he pushed at it. The lack of echo told Asher it had been sealed on the other side.


    For a front, it was a little disappointing. Yet, if it was just that, then why had the crows brought them there? If they really were Hadley¡¯s birds, then maybe this place held the secrets that had driven her fear that night.


    He stepped through the door, and the air changed, the temperature dropping as though he had fallen into a frozen pond. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and there were eyes boring into him, eyes he couldn¡¯t see, a hundred invisible spiders turning to look at him. The air was empty, hollow and echoing. Asher tried to shake the sensation off, but when he closed his eyes, he only saw the same caves from Le Torkani, the endless black labyrinth that drove him to panic.


    No. Not again. ¡®What¡¯s happening?¡¯ he demanded.


    ¡®Le Torkani,¡¯ Penn hissed. He banged on the door again, but it wasn¡¯t opening. Asher eased forward, but with each step towards the middle of the room, the air grew heavier, pressing in from all sides to hold him in place. His lungs filled with clay, solidifying his entire torso and making air impossible to go down.


    A gentle hand pressed onto his shoulder, and the sensation eased enough for him to pull a breath in. ¡®It¡¯s a weakness in the Gate,¡¯ Sara said. ¡®Try and breathe through it.¡¯


    Asher swallowed and forced himself forward, until he stood in the middle of the room. The pressure made him want to crumble, fold in on himself until he was a puddle on the floor. There was nothing here. Even as he focused, only the smallest wisps of haze, smoke no thicker than a boiling kettle, drifted out of the floor in bright blue light. Sara leaned down and pulled a small, empty pouch from her pocket, scooping at the wisps with the leather. When she straightened, the little bag was full and weighted. She pulled the drawstrings tight and looped it around her belt. From the folds of her skirt, she pulled another empty one and tossed it to Asher. ¡®Try filling it up. If we have a fight, this is the one time I won¡¯t turn you away from it.¡¯


    ¡®Have you done this before?¡¯ Asher asked.


    ¡®Not directly,¡¯ Sara said. ¡®I mean¡­ no, I haven¡¯t, but it feels a little exciting, doesn¡¯t it?¡¯


    Asher¡¯s leg ached at the memory, and only cramped when he tried to ease the weight of it.


    ¡®Oh, I didn¡¯t mean it like that,¡¯ Sara said. ¡®I mean¡­ I¡¯ve never done what a witch is supposed to do, the whole reason we¡¯re able to see the spirits. And this has to be what Hadley was worried about. It just¡­ it feels good to finally do this.¡¯


    Asher spotted a thin wisp seeping out of the wall, running up through the cracks in the walls before sailing back down. As he hooked the bag under the stream, Penn flicked his hand out, and the gentle haze of smoke turned to a plume, cascading down over his hands, over the bag and leaving a pile of ash and dust on the floor. When Asher pulled away, the bag was overflowing with dust, and smoking.


    ¡®Oh there were still herbs in that one,¡¯ Sara said. ¡®Throw it away, quick!¡¯


    Asher tossed the bag towards the door, but Penn plucked it out of the air before it could get to far. His eyes were burning again, and he mumbled something under his breath. The bag stopped smoking, and Penn tightened the strings, then tossed it back at Asher. ¡®It will wait,¡¯ he said.


    ¡®What will it do?¡¯ Asher asked.


    Penn shrugged.


    It would work as a last resort if anything. He¡¯d already seen what any dust did to those monsters. The thought of ending up in the place made his spine contract, but he couldn¡¯t think about that now. It hadn¡¯t happened yet.


    The spirits in the wall calmed, floating back down towards the floor in the same fine, airy smoke coming out of the floor.


    Coming out of the floor¡­


    Asher tapped his cane against the floor, letting the sound of wood against wood ring out through the space. A chill ran down the length of his spine, but when it passed he tapped the floor again, testing each patch of rotting wood, until one of his taps rang hollow. A single patch in the middle of the room had nothing beneath it. A trapdoor.


    ¡®Penn, it¡¯s underneath us,¡¯ Asher said.


    Sara dropped to her knees and felt around the floor, brushing away dust and damp remains of parchment, until her nails hooked into a grove. She traced the edges until she came across a hook, and pulled. It stuck tight. Asher tried to bend his leg to help, but the pressure on his ankle sent a sharp pain through his leg, and he had to straighten again.


    Penn knelt down next to her, but didn¡¯t pull. Instead, he ran his hand along the length of the latch, mumbling softly until small droplets of water rose from between the cracks, which he chased towards one end and let sink into the grooves of the edges. The wood darkened, then began to warp. He motioned for Sara to get out of the way, then Asher drove his cane hard into the latch. The metal hook snapped open as the wooden joint separated from its joints. The patch of floor dropped down into empty space, revealing a stone hall below.


    One of the crows flew into the room then, a flurry of feathers flashing across Asher¡¯s face before landing on Sara¡¯s shoulder. Sara reached up to stroke the bird¡¯s chest, and it trilled happily.


    ¡®It¡¯s not a doorway, is it?¡¯ Sara asked. ¡®I mean¡­ a doorway.¡¯


    Penn shrank back.


    Asher sighed and eased himself down until he was sitting, then dropped his legs down. When he had crossed the arch in Valenda, the alchemist had come up behind him, but if something were to bite his leg off, at least he could swap the constant ache for something with a hidden pistol in it.


    When nothing happened, Penn dropped through the door and onto the floor below. He scanned the space back and forth, then nodded and gestured Asher and Sara down.


    When Sara had eased down with both Penn and Asher holding her, Asher eased himself down, where both of them caught him before he could drop too far, placing him gently on the stone, though his leg still twinged at the effort.

 Chapter 17.3 - The Tunnels Under the Towns

    They stood at the end of a hall, the floor ahead stretching further than the length of the building above, slanted down further underground.  If Asher¡¯s sense of direction meant anything, it was leading out under the farms.


    ¡®Is this how we felt it that night?¡¯ Sara asked. ¡®When the Gate swallowed Hadley, I felt the shift. It happened right under our feet, didn¡¯t it?¡¯


    ¡®We can¡¯t know that until we look into it.¡¯ Asher couldn¡¯t ignore the pressure anymore. It was powerful, threatening to crush every one of his bones if he moved the wrong way. He risked a step forward anyway.


    Pillars of white flame exploded out of the walls, swallowing either side of the hallway in a heat that seared the hairs off Asher¡¯s skin. The three of them recoiled, but the flames stayed against the walls, cascading upwards like a reversed waterfall. Asher inched forward, and the spirits didn¡¯t move to stop him. The heat beat against his face, joining the pressure in a wave of discomfort bordering on pain. As he continued forward, it remained consistent, not easing up or getting worse, and he eventually managed to ignore it. Penn rushed forward, leading the way with light, quick steps. For a single beat, his cloak was more ruffled, on end like hackles and bristling, almost pulsing.


    This wasn¡¯t what he usually looked like. Asher kept forgetting that part.


    The walls of light stayed the further on they went, breaking only when a door appeared in the stone, then another and another, until they evenly broke up the walls on either side. Each of them had thick iron latches on them, shining and polished as though they were brand new. The crow still on Sara¡¯s shoulder trilled again, then swooped forward, making Asher duck as talons and feathers caught his hair, and dropping onto the floor in front of one of the doors. It looked up at each of them, tilting its head slightly. Asher couldn¡¯t tell if crows were usually this intelligent, and he didn¡¯t know which answer freaked him out more.


    Penn placed his palm flat against the wood, still for a moment and frowning in concentration. Asher eased closer, but Penn held up his hand.


    ¡®No spirits,¡¯ he whispered. ¡®Something¡¯s wrong.¡¯


    ¡®Should one of us go first, in case its Le Torkani?¡¯ Asher asked.


    Penn shook his head. ¡®It¡¯s not that. Something else.¡¯


    Asher slowly reached out and grabbed the latch holding the door closed, flinching at how cold the iron felt against his palm, then slowly pushed it open. Another hallway stretched out before them, this one wider and lower, connected to the door by naturally formed stone steps. The pillars of fire covering the walls didn¡¯t appear on this side, and Asher noticed that the wall of fire now next to his head wouldn¡¯t cross through the doorway. He exchanged a glance with Penn.


    ¡®Something¡¯s wrong with this place,¡¯ Sara mumbled. ¡®It feels¡­ empty.¡¯


    ¡®No spirits,¡¯ Penn mumbled.


    ¡®That can¡¯t be right,¡¯ Sara said. ¡®It¡¯s still our world, isn¡¯t it?¡¯


    Penn nodded.


    ¡®Maybe they¡¯re more sporadic?¡¯ Asher suggested. When Sara shook her head, he knew it was a stupid thing to say. He still knew way too little to have an opinion on anything.


    ¡®As long as there is life, there are spirits,¡¯ Sara said. ¡®Any kind of life. It¡¯s why using the dust on its own is not as taboo as any of the rest.¡¯


    ¡®Le Torkani has spirits,¡¯ Penn added. ¡®They form the Gate. They bleed through the broken parts.¡¯


    Asher slowly made his way down the stairs, though the caution was overwhelmed by the effort of not putting too much weight on his leg. The air turned cold, painful against the heat still pressed into his skin, biting into his nerves and making his bones ache. Sara came down after him, lifting her skirts to stop the fabric brushing against the floor. She was noticeably shaking, her face grey. Penn didn¡¯t move from the doorway.


    ¡®Do you want to wait?¡¯ Asher asked.


    Penn shook his head. ¡®I can¡­ this is wrong. It¡¯s not a natural place.¡¯


    ¡®Maybe you should wait,¡¯ Sara said. ¡®Your powers aren¡¯t going to work as well.¡¯


    His powers aren¡¯t going to work at all, Asher realised. It was a vulnerability he hadn¡¯t seen in the man before. ¡®I won¡¯t blame you if you go back,¡¯ he said. ¡®Or you can stick with me.¡¯


    Penn slowly raised his foot over the top step, holding it there and taking a deep breath. His foot came down, and white sparks burst out as the ball of his sole met stone. Another step forward gave the same effect, and Penn sucked in air through his teeth.


    ¡®Are you alright, sweetie?¡¯ Sara asked.


    Penn squeezed his eyes tight, then swayed and caught himself against the door-frame. Those same white sparks flashed at the contact, and as he held his hand there, the white flames began to lick around the corner. He muttered something under his breath, then leapt down the stairs and shook himself.


    ¡®We need to make this quick,¡¯ he muttered.


    ¡®Agreed.¡¯ Asher couldn¡¯t feel the same things the others could ¨C and that confused him a little ¨C but aside from the biting cold, he felt fine. The growing pressure in his chest made it hard to breathe, but of course, he was somewhere forbidden.


    This hall was lower, but was wide enough that each of them could walk comfortably side by side, easing forward. It was dark, shadows growing longer and larger across the space the further they went, and Asher realised this was the first time since he came out of Le Torkani that he¡¯d seen true darkness. The spirits had lit the way in Valenda, in Dalvany, and now that they weren¡¯t here, he felt a hollowness that made his skin crawl, as though he would reach in and pull apart his rib-cage to find only more shadow inside. Whatever this place was, it wasn¡¯t natural, but more than what Penn had meant. Someone had put it here. It had been built, and carved. Recently, if his current observations were worth anything.


    From Fanmaryh, to Ralkauda, to Dalvany, and Valenda was planned; did these tunnels run under the entire Kingdom?


    The shadows grew harsher, joined with a soft glow that revealed itself to be torches. Flickering, dim flame clung to old wood, placed sporadically along the walls until the hall opened further into a wider room. The hexagonal opening held more doors, each shining new iron bolted with heavy latches across the front. A candelabra hung from the ceiling, the flames unnaturally still. Standing by one wall were two guards.


    Asher swore and pulled Penn back, as Sara crouched down in the shadows of the hall. One of the men shifted, but neither moved from their position. The crow, which had perched itself on Sara¡¯s shoulder again, warbled. Penn lunged forward and wrapped his hands around it¡¯s beak, silencing it.


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    Both of them ¨C a man and a woman ¨C wore the uniform of the town guards, the blue coats, with tricorn hats leaning against the walls at their feet. Each had a sword at their hip and a rifle over their shoulder. Far too much power for simple guard duty this far underground. Nothing in the room suggested what any door lead to, or what needed to be guarded, but Asher¡¯s chest tightened further, and it took all of his willpower not to burst into the space and demand to know what was going on.


    Penn backed further down the hall, coming to a stop by one of the torches. He teased the top of the flame with his fingers, each touch flashing an iridescent light through the embers. He frowned.


    What¡¯s wrong? Asher mouthed.


    ¡®Trapped,¡¯ Penn hissed. ¡®There are spirits, but they¡¯re stuck. Something is holding them here.¡¯


    ¡®Is someone there?¡¯ One of the guards stepped forward, her hand jumping to the strap of her rifle. Penn dropped down into a crouch and shuffled back, fast and quick. All Asher could do was press himself into the wall, hard enough that he could pass through it if he wasn¡¯t solid.


    The female guard came forward, slowly easing her rifle off her shoulder as she came closer and closer. The crow reacted first, throwing itself off Sara¡¯s shoulder and throwing itself at the guard¡¯s face before swooping low and coming to a stop in front of a door to the right. The male guard swore.


    ¡®How the fuck do these things keep getting in here?¡¯ he demanded.


    The female guard levelled the rifle at it, and Asher¡¯s breath caught, but the shot rang out and the crow squawked angrily before taking off down the tunnel and out of sight.


    The door across from the now marked one opened with a thud that shook the wall, and a new, familiar voice rang out.


    ¡®What are you doing now?¡¯ Olive snapped.


    ¡®Another one of those flying rats,¡¯ the female guard said.


    ¡®Did you get it?¡¯


    ¡®No, ma¡¯am.¡¯


    Olive clicked her tongue. ¡®Any word on when those nets are getting here?¡¯


    ¡®Not on my end, ma¡¯am,¡¯ the male guard said.


    ¡®Yeah, that seems right,¡¯ Olive mumbled. She sighed. ¡®If anyone tells me they were already in Valenda, I¡¯m going to shoot someone.¡¯


    ¡®The birds have only been a problem here, ma¡¯am,¡¯ the female guard said. ¡®Doesn¡¯t make sense they¡¯d be sent to Valenda.¡¯


    ¡®Everything got sent to Valenda,¡¯ Olive muttered.


    ¡®Do you think the witch might come back?¡¯ the male guard asked. ¡®The one who brought all these birds?¡¯


    Still crouched in front of him, Sara tensed.


    ¡®She¡¯s not stupid,¡¯ Olive said. ¡®I don¡¯t care what told them we were back in this shithole, just don¡¯t miss next time.¡¯


    The door thudded again, and Asher peered out from his spot against the wall, and saw both the guards drop against the wall again.


    ¡®She¡¯s cutting steel with a blunt knife, she is,¡¯ the male guard said.


    ¡®I dare you to say that to her face,¡¯ the female guard said. ¡®You wanna do it instead?¡¯


    ¡®She didn¡¯t wanna do it,¡¯ the male guard said. ¡®Not any of our fault the boss went and vanished with the rest of them.¡¯


    Asher flinched. They weren¡¯t talking about Navarre were they?


    He needed to get into that room, somehow, past the guards that didn¡¯t show any signs of moving. He wondered just how involved they were in all of this, if this so called project had brought on grunts for hire, or if they were part of the Sovereignty. Would it matter if the question came about hurting them?


    He didn¡¯t want to hurt anyone.


    Penn returned to the flame, this time trying to cup the flame in his hands. With a whisper into the embers, the edges flashed blue and began to bleed through his fingers, raining down onto the floor. Penn frowned, then spoke again, this time louder.


    Every torch in the hallway exploded.


    Asher cried out as red hot flames shot towards the roof, licking at the walls before catching at the clay between the stones. Blue light shot down the hallway, following the lines along the walls until the entire space was crackling with daylight.


    ¡®Nakati,¡¯ Penn hissed.


    ¡®Hey!¡¯ The female guard stood in the opening of the wider room, rifle in her hands. She met Asher¡¯s gaze, and recoiled. ¡®Lieutenant?¡¯


    ¡®I thought the Captain didn¡¯t tell him anything?¡¯ the male guard asked.


    ¡®He didn¡¯t.¡¯ The female guard locked the rifle into place, then turned it on Penn. ¡®Who the fuck are you?¡¯


    Penn thrust his fist into the wall, and the flames exploded again, a white light filled the space, blinding Asher as the cold snapped and bit at each of his nerves. He blinked it away, in time to see Penn grab the gun and rip it from the guard¡¯s hand, tossing it down the hall.


    Asher lunged to grab it, but heat ripped through his side and he recoiled. The small bag of dust was smoking heavily now, flickers of white flame breaking through the cracks in the top. He ripped it free from his belt at the same moment the guard shoved Penn to the ground. Flesh seared from his palm as the guard lunged at him, and Asher threw his hands up only for a plume of the smoke to hit her in the face. Her momentum reversed, falling back as her eyes rolled back. She hit the ground, and was still.


    The male guard rushed forward, readying his own rifle, but Sara was on her feet in a blink, grabbing a fistful of the same smoke and blowing it into the guard¡¯s face. Like his companion, he folded to the ground. Neither of them were moving.


    Something cold and horrible gripped Asher¡¯s chest and he staggered back. He couldn¡¯t tear his eyes away, not even to close them against the vision in front of him, lit clear as day by the burning walls. They weren¡¯t moving. Had he really just taken a life? It had been an accident¡­ one that he could have, should have avoided.


    What had he just done?


    Penn held up the little bag of dust ¨C he hadn¡¯t realised he¡¯d dropped it ¨C but Asher shook his head. He was not this person. He wasn¡¯t a witch, he wasn¡¯t a criminal, a killer. Only a few months ago he would have worked with people just like this, he was a grunt just like this.


    ¡®No.¡¯ The word escaped in a whisper. He shook his head again. ¡®No. I didn¡¯t mean¡ª¡¯


    ¡®It¡¯s okay,¡¯ Sara hissed.


    ¡®No.¡¯ How was this okay? He couldn¡¯t breathe, and the effort of trying made his chest hurt, made his throat burn. He couldn¡¯t be here, but he couldn¡¯t move.


    ¡®Asher, look at me,¡¯ Sara pressed. She grabbed his shoulders and forced his gaze to meet hers. He had a head of height over her, and could still see the two bodies behind her. ¡®They¡¯re asleep. We only knocked them out.¡¯


    Asher shook his head again. That didn¡¯t matter. That wasn¡¯t the point.


    ¡®They¡¯re unconscious,¡¯ Sara said. ¡®This magic can¡¯t take a life, that¡¯s not how it works. You haven¡¯t hurt them.¡¯


    ¡®I didn¡¯t know,¡¯ Asher mumbled. ¡®I don¡¯t know. I can¡¯t be doing this¡­ I¡­ I¡¯m not a witch! I could have¡­ and I wouldn¡¯t even¡­¡¯


    Sara grimaced, then grabbed his arm and pulled him into the wider space, straining against the door the crow had marked until it scraped open, then shoved him inside. Penn pulled the door shut behind them.


    ¡®Look, the guilt is good,¡¯ Sara said. ¡®You would never intentionally hurt someone, and that means everything.¡¯


    ¡®Does it?¡¯ Asher demanded. ¡®I have no idea what I¡¯m doing!¡¯


    ¡®None of us do!¡¯ Sara cried. ¡®I had to teach myself about all of this too; believe me, I know. I know. You are not a bad person, Asher. If you had done that intentionally ¨C not in self defence but in an act of malice ¨C and it had killed them, that would be something different. That would be inexcusable.¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t understand,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®I¡¯m messing with things I don¡¯t understand, doing things that I would never do if I¡­ is that supposed to be excusable?¡¯


    Sara frowned. ¡®What wouldn¡¯t you do, if you had to do all this again?¡¯


    ¡®I wouldn¡¯t¡­¡¯ The thought made his head spin. ¡®I am not a witch,¡¯ he pressed. ¡®I never should have...You¡¯re the one who told me not to get involved with this!¡¯


    ¡®Because it¡¯s dangerous,¡¯ Sara said. ¡®It¡¯s harder for people like us¡­ it might have gone away. That was my point. If you turned away, the spirits would have faded and you wouldn¡¯t be interacting with them. You were the one who told me you couldn¡¯t do that.¡¯


    ¡®I¡­¡¯ A bile taste rose in the back of his throat. ¡®I don¡¯t feel like myself anymore.¡¯


    ¡®This is the Gate,¡¯ Penn said. ¡®The Gate opens, and the world breaks. You cannot stay the same in a broken world.¡¯


    ¡®He¡¯s right,¡¯ Sara said. ¡®Look around you. This is so much bigger than all of us, and I hate that it took me so long to realise that. Hiding behind my normalcy led to the biggest mistake I ever made. I know you¡¯re scared, Asher, but you are still you. That hasn¡¯t changed.¡¯


    But it had. Everything was intense and painful and real in a way he¡¯d never felt before. As though he¡¯d been in a haze, sleepwalking through everything that came before. He¡¯d been happy in Ralkauda. Maybe not happy, but content. He¡¯d had no real drive to change anything about his life, and it had been comfortable. Now it was a dream, a distant memory growing more unreal with every passing second. His body burned and ached, and the pain in his leg, in his hip and his shoulder was constant and pressing, joined with the fear that it would never go away. It would never go away. He would never go back to the way his life was before this. It wasn¡¯t a matter of doing things differently, because there was nothing he could have done. It wasn¡¯t his choice to learn about other worlds, nor did he decide his leg should shatter beyond repair. From the beginning, this had been out of his control, and there was nothing he could do to change that.


    The least he could do was get answers.

 Chapter 17.4 - The Journals

    ¡®This is still about my friend,¡¯ Asher mumbled. ¡®If he¡¯s involved in why this is happening, I have to know. So I can find him and kill him myself.¡¯


    Sara recoiled. ¡®It¡¯s a mite intense, but we can work with that.¡¯


    They stood in what looked like a garrison, though most of it had been left empty, complete with the polish of a room that had been assigned but never used. A small pile of files had been left on the corner of a small calligraphy desk. The other door in the room was a simple wooden thing, though the empty key-hook next to it told him that it wouldn¡¯t be easily opened.


    A simple parchment had been left on the top of the pile, which Asher picked up and immediately wished he hadn¡¯t. The name Captain Chaeverau  had been crossed out along the top. Beneath it, in a blotchy scrawl of ink, read; these are the notes from Fanmaryh. Meant to be sent to King. Keep in safe space.


    The first folder opened to more of the same documents that he¡¯d found, penned in neat, fine writing, featuring more numbers and data that he couldn¡¯t name without context. Sitting on top though, was a small leather bound journal, bent and warped and stained. Asher worked the strings holding it closed, until yellowed parchment fell open across the desk. The worn strings binding it together were frayed, and many of them were a breath away from falling completely loose. This handwriting was messier, loopy and flicking at the edges in a way that was hauntingly familiar. The same loops had been practised over and over at Beau Jordeaux.


    [Date]


    First researchers arrived today. Spent the entire day stopping fights with them and the historians. Each of them have collected all information on Aedeon and the war that formed Tarinye. Suggested the Dalvany archives also be collected.


    [Date]


    Possibility of supernatural ¨C doubtful. Historians claim Telkite knowledge could lead to further understanding. Approved notion to move main base to Fanmaryh.


    [Date]


    First of strange encounters. Telkite locals claim the sleeping ones will destroy us if we go into the caves. Researchers are worried about Grey Lung. Precautions need to be made. Found one of our survey tents marked with clay in symbols. Same symbols mark Tekk ruins on the shore. The Tekks know something.


    PN: Find myself wondering about Ash. Will pen a letter later.


    Asher¡¯s stomach churned. He¡¯d told Navarre many times over that he hated being called ¡°Ash.¡± The man had always been the only one to call Asher that, but he¡¯d stopped years ago. This was Navarre¡¯s journal.


    Penn circled the room, running his hands along the walls as though looking for a secret hook or latch. He stopped at the door, going still for a moment before pressing his hands flat against the wood. Asher pressed the journal protectively into his chest as the man muttered something under his breath.


    The walls sagged. Turning into a soft clay substance, the stone warped and melted down towards the ground, the roof dropping into a concave bowl fast enough to make both Asher and Sara jump. Penn threw his hand out, and the motion stopped, freezing in place. The roof now hung low enough that Asher could reach up and place his palm flat against it.


    ¡®What was that?¡¯ he demanded.


    ¡®This is Nakati,¡¯ Penn said. ¡®But not. The hole in the Gate is Nakati, not Le Torkani. Ir¡¯s not supposed to¡­ it¡¯s not possible.¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯ve never heard about a Gate into Nakati,¡¯ Sara said. ¡®Do you mean that the breach between worlds is between yours and ours instead of ours and Le Torkani?¡¯


    Penn nodded.


    ¡®That¡¯s not possible,¡¯ Sara said. ¡®Are you sure?¡¯


    Penn hissed at her, then grabbed at the air above his head, as though expecting something to be there. He let out a frustrated growl. ¡®It¡¯s dead. It¡¯s all dead. Dead and rotted and gone.¡¯


    ¡®Is that how the Fienta got through, do you think?¡¯ Asher asked. ¡®If there was a hole in both worlds¡ª¡¯


    ¡®It¡¯s not possible!¡¯ Penn snapped.


    ¡®Easy, sweetie,¡¯ Sara said.


    Asher turned back to the journal. If this is what the bird ¨C what Hadley ¨C had meant for them to find, then there had to be something in here.


    [Date]


    Caught a tresspasser trying to destroy researcher notes. When held, burned through ropes,  but no ash left behind. The substance on the ropes not of this world. Further information needs to be collected.


    [Date]


    Strange dust substance reacts to different stimuli. Researchers very excited. Creature #8 injured gravely by untainted stuff. Further information needed.


    ¡®Creature eight?¡¯ Asher read the words aloud, and Sara made for the open folder, flicking through it and producing one of the parchments. She scanned across it.


    ¡®I¡¯ve seen something like this before,¡¯ she said. ¡®Sometimes we get them with animals. To know if they¡¯re healthy or need any special care, but I don¡¯t know what this is supposed to be.¡¯


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Asher flicked further through the journal. He could almost read the words in Navarre¡¯s voice, could hear it in his head, broken apart by those echoing calls for help.


    [Date]


    First full test unsuccessful. Creature #15 tore the arm from a historian. Another fell down a gap and returned with white hair. Neither made it through the night.


    The Lords are pulling support. On King¡¯s request, I have stated we move forward.


    [Date]


    Tremboui is overrun with birds. All attempts to sabotage are sent to him due to law of execution, so we believe they are cursing before they hang. Reports talk of a red haired woman. Attempts to arrest her with the others are proving futile.


    Asher didn¡¯t realise Sara was reading the same page next to him until she gasped. All he could picture was the many bodies that had been hanging outside of Dalvany the day he arrived. Maybe some of them had been witches after all, protesting the research on what Asher suspected was the Gate. The thought made him want to curl up and scream. They were experimenting on the dust and the Gate. The final page was a long entry, hasty and messier.


    [Date]


    The witch ¨C Hadley Derrian ¨C has been tracked down. Delana almost shot her dead, but missed. The shrapnel has gravely injured her. She has been tracked to the outpost on the edge of town. If she seeks to free the creatures we have captured and contained, she will be stopped tonight.


    Finally, a breakthrough!


    The witch cast real magic, and now I have seen it with my own eyes, I know that everything we¡¯ve done to stop these creatures and contain any threat has been worth it. Many aspects are invisible to us, but that only shows that our inconsistent research has been for a reason. The witch had with her a strange portal, a portal that may lead us into the world of these demons. If we can understand it, we will destroy them before they destroy us. For the first time since this started, I finally believe we have a chance.


    [Date]


    The King has sent through new orders. More people need to be hired on. Lord Mag wants all of it to stay behind closed doors. I agree. The truth of witches and demons will only cause a panic, and we still have the element of surprise for killing these bastards. My curiosity is split however, I need to know how the witches summon that dust that lets them break the world as I saw in Dalvany that night. It can be turned against them, and might be the only weapon we have.


    The rest of the journal was blank.


    ¡®Fuck,¡¯ Asher said. It didn¡¯t feel like a strong enough word. ¡®Fuck.¡¯


    He was going to kill Navarre. He wanted to see him again just to rattle him until his teeth fell out.


    Penn pressed his hands against the door again, this time giving it the slightest push. It fell forward with a heavy thud that shook the floor. Shards of stone rained down with it, the warped frame crumbling. Asher made to step through when Sara took the journal. She read over the pages with a ghostly expression.


    ¡®Is this why so many witches have been hung lately?¡¯ her voice was a whisper. ¡®They were trying to stop this. They were¡­ blessed spirits, they were tearing apart the Gate!¡¯


    ¡®I know,¡¯ Asher mumbled. The weight of it left a horrible, hollow feeling in his chest. ¡®There¡¯s a way to fix it, right? Can we fix this?¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t know,¡¯ Sara whispered. ¡®I¡­ I thought maybe the Gate was opening, the same as it did hundreds of years ago, but¡­ sleeping three, are they all dead?¡¯


    ¡®The witches?¡¯ Asher asked. ¡®I wouldn¡¯t know. I don¡¯t¡­ I don¡¯t know what to do with this.¡¯ If this is what Hadley knew, he could see why she was terrified. ¡®She was trying to close the Gate, wasn¡¯t she? She knew these idiots had punched a hole in it, and she tried to close it.¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t think it can be,¡¯ Sara mumbled. ¡®If it¡¯s only just the two of us. Even if we somehow convinced Iain to go back to practising, it still might not be enough. By the three, I don¡¯t know how we could fix this.¡¯


    Asher forced a deep breath. There had to be a way. If there were holes, then maybe there was a way to get in and get people out, and maybe other witches like Hadley could help them. ¡®We need to know how serious this is first,¡¯ he said. ¡®We¡­ where¡¯s Penn?¡¯


    Asher rushed over to the opening the man had made with the door, and came face to face with a Fienta.


    Sara screamed, the sound cutting off as Asher slapped his hand over her mouth, holding firm. He pressed his other hand to his own mouth, aware of his breath echoing loudly through the room. Sara¡¯s eyes were wide, and as he pulled his hand away, she remained frozen as though he still held her.


    ¡®I¡¯m sorry,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®We¡¯re still trying to hide.¡¯


    ¡®I know, I¡¯m sorry,¡¯ Sara¡¯s voice escaped in a breath. ¡®Is that what they look like?¡¯


    ¡®Haven¡¯t you seen one before?¡¯


    Sara shook her head, and Asher turned back to the monster in question. It took the form of a wooden doll, the kind that dressmakers used to measure their works. All other humanoid parts that were usually missing were made of animal bones, crushed and broken and snapped to create a warped, elongated shape with extra limbs and a neck as long as its torso. It had no eyes, no features asides from the gaps between rat skulls and cat spines, but it didn¡¯t seem interested in them.


    Asher stepped toward it, then recoiled when he noticed the thick iron bars between them. He¡¯d been too focused on the Fienta to notice them. The thing was in a cell, jerking back and forth erratically, flicking those long limbs in random directions as though trying to shake something free. Small shards of bone littered the floor at its feet.


    The Fienta took no interest in them as it thrashed back and forth, but as Asher drew closer, a wave of dizziness washed over him, a muffled, muted weight that almost knocked him down. Sara staggered into the doorway, shaking her head frantically.


    ¡®Penn?¡¯ Asher hissed the word, and the Fienta twisted around to look at him, but quickly went back to its own thrashing. He glanced down the long hall that stretched out on either side, but there were only more cells, each of them with a lock so large and solid not even the heat of the sun would destroy it. The next cell was empty, but the stone walls were concave as though something had been thrown against them with insane force.


    The next Fienta was large and flat, more of a sentient rug than any living thing Asher had ever seen. Wooden boards had been nailed along the bottom of the cell, and the creature itself had dozens of little arms wriggling up towards the roof. Watching them for too long made Asher¡¯s eyes ache, so he moved on.


    The hall bent, curving around in a subtle ring, and Penn appeared by one of the cells, his head pressed against the bar, his eyes shut and his knuckles white against the iron. The cell in question was empty, but either side held another Fienta, each of them leaning against the corner and watching him intently.


    ¡®Are you alright?¡¯ Asher asked.


    Penn grabbed hold of his arm, squeezing tight enough to break skin. The Fienta swiped at him, but Asher pulled the man away from the bars.


    ¡®It¡¯s all wrong,¡¯ Penn hissed. ¡®It¡¯s human and Nakati and Le Torkani and it¡¯s wrong. Can¡¯t put all of these together. It¡¯s all wrong.¡¯


    ¡®Easy.¡¯ Asher tried to keep his voice even, holding Penn¡¯s hands tight. ¡®This is where the hole in the Gate is, isn¡¯t it?¡¯


    ¡®No, it¡¯s so much worse.¡¯ Sara¡¯s voice was small. ¡®Asher, they punched holes in the Gate, and into Nakati, just to learn how they work. I¡¯ve never heard of that happening. I¡¯ve never heard of anyone who would want to do something like that.¡¯


    ¡®They don¡¯t know what they¡¯re doing,¡¯ Asher mumbled. Why would they, when any witch they learned about was executed? Still, it filled him with a kind of dread he¡¯d never felt before, the primal kind of fear that didn¡¯t come from a place or event or person. It was something ancient and faded, wired into blood that had long since moved on from its original design.


    Nakati. Le Torkani. Dalvany. All merging into one.


    ¡®What can we do?¡¯ his voice was a whisper.


    ¡®I don¡¯t know,¡¯ Sara said. ¡®Even if the Gate was just weakening like it does sometimes, we couldn¡¯t¡­ If this doesn¡¯t stop I¡­ I don¡¯t know.¡¯


    ¡®They need to stop,¡¯ Penn growled. His weight pulled against Asher¡¯s grip, and Asher couldn¡¯t tell if he was trying to ease away, or about to fall over.


    Asher swallowed. He was out of his depth; any plan he could think of scattered at the weight of it. ¡®Then we keep going,¡¯ he said. ¡®There has to be something we can use.¡¯


    ¡®It hurts to be here,¡¯ Penn whispered.


    Asher squeezed his hands harder. ¡®Can you focus on me?¡¯ he asked. ¡®If that helps.¡¯


    Penn shook his head, but didn¡¯t let go of Asher¡¯s arm.

 Chapter 17.5 - The Point of No Return

    As they continued on, the hall straightened out and spread wider, with simple wooden doors appearing between each cell. Asher wanted to check each room they passed, but the fear of walking in on someone who would, at best arrest him and at worst shoot him, kept him away. There were a few more Fienta in the cells, monsters as unimaginable as he remembered, but they seemed more worried about thrashing around then attacking them. One turned a crumbling dirt face to Penn and stared openly until they passed, but they didn¡¯t bother any of them.


    ¡®I feel like I should apologise,¡¯ Sara mumbled.


    ¡®For what?¡¯ Asher asked.


    ¡®You were so scared,¡¯ Sara whispered. ¡®You were terrified and I thought it was because you thought you were a witch, but these things are monstrous.¡¯


    ¡®To be completely fair, that was a part of it,¡¯ Asher pointed out.


    They came to another opening in the wall, and Asher wondered if they¡¯d come around in a circle, but the large hall on the other side was different from the bare guard station they had come from. This one was lined with half-a-dozen desks stacked with more files, the far wall holding more cells, each of them full of multiple creatures.


    Before Asher could get a proper look at them, Penn cried out and bolted forward, charging towards the cells.


    Asher cursed and rushed after him, then paused when he realised there were yet more cells, each of them just as full as the last. A few monsters had a cell to themselves, but the three along the far wall were grouped up to the point of being overstuffed. Penn spoke fast and frantic to each of the creatures inside, and many of them perked up with an intensity that made the man flinch back. They looked different to the other Fienta. They weren¡¯t monstrous, but they were strange to the point of uncanny. A few of them were humanoid, with human faces and human limbs, but they were too polished, too sharp, shining in the low light of the candelabra. He counted pointed ears and spikes along arms and backs, bipedal animals and quadrupedal humanoids, creatures with wings and branches and horns and antlers. None of them had a terrifying edge though, the kind that paralysed him so completely.


    They were Nakati.


    ¡®Oh no,¡¯ Sara breathed.


    Asher rushed forward as Penn pulled on the bars. All creatures in the three cells were alert now, watching them with large eyes, small eyes, bright eyes, singulars, and multiples, all of them fixated on Penn with an unnerving intensity.


    One of them came forward to reach through the bars, stroking the edge of his cloak. Penn recoiled and hissed, and the entire group shrank back. Asher studied the lock. It was heavy, large and shining new. There was no chance rust would make it weak, but there were always ways to break a lock.


    ¡®You are not with the others.¡¯ The Nakati who spoke was as tall as Asher¡¯s waist, with dark eyes as large as their head and webbed ears sticking out under dark hair. There was a waxy, green quality to their otherwise grey skin. ¡®You smell like a friend.¡¯


    ¡®We¡¯re going to get you out of here,¡¯ Asher said. He scanned the desks around him, but there was no sign of where the keys would be kept.


    ¡®The Jaliti has returned,¡¯ the little Nakati said. The creatures in the cell around it bounced at the word. Penn recoiled again. He responded with a low voice, but the Nakati only grew more excitable. The noise bounced off the walls, and one of the Fienta growled behind him.


    ¡®You guys need to keep it down,¡¯ Asher said.


    ¡®Make them stop,¡¯ Penn hissed. ¡®I¡¯m not¡­ they can¡¯t see me as Jaliti.¡¯


    ¡®I can¡¯t tell them anything,¡¯ Asher pointed out. ¡®But maybe they don¡¯t hate you as much as you thought.¡¯


    ¡®Not my home,¡¯ Penn whispered. ¡®These are other Nakati. I can¡¯t¡­ I didn¡¯t help them.¡¯


    ¡®You can help these guys now,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®That¡¯s what matters.¡¯


    A low growl rumbled up from Penn¡¯s throat, but he glanced at Asher and swallowed it back down. When he spoke again, it was low and gravely and sure, with an intensity Asher had never seen in him before. The words were weighted, forceful. Like a King giving orders.


    The Nakati settled, and each of them backed away from the bars as much as the cramped space would allow. The little one with webbed ears stayed where it was, looking up at Asher with wide eyes. Penn snapped at it, but it didn¡¯t move.


    ¡®Do not let them grab you,¡¯ Penn said.


    Asher took a step back instinctively, crashing into Sara, who held up a keyring.


    ¡®I found it,¡¯ she said.


    Penn snapped at the smaller Nakati again, and it shuffled back, away from the bars.


    ¡®Can we get this many out without anyone noticing?¡¯ Asher asked.


    ¡®I have no idea,¡¯ Sara said. ¡®But we can¡¯t leave them here either.¡¯


    ¡®We won¡¯t,¡¯ Penn growled. ¡®I will stay back.¡¯


    ¡®You will not,¡¯ Asher snapped. When Penn glowered at him, he added. ¡®You won¡¯t fix anything if they shoot you dead.¡¯ He glanced at Sara, who yanked one key out of the lock and fumbled for another. ¡®Do you think you can get them out?¡¯


    Sara froze. ¡®Me alone?¡¯


    ¡®If Penn stays alone, he¡¯s going to create absolute chaos,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®But we can both stay back and cause a distraction.¡¯


    Sara nodded, but she didn¡¯t meet his eye. ¡®Don¡¯t do anything stupid, okay?¡¯


    ¡®I promise not to do anything more stupid than this,¡¯ Asher said.


    The cell fell open, and the Nakati poured out like a river breaking a dam. Asher backed up as Sara moved to the next cell, working the lock with the same key and pulling it open in a blink. Penn hushed the ones that yelled out or shrieked happily, and Asher considered his options. The best bet was pulling the guards¡¯ attentions completely, rather than just turning them away for a moment. The longer they could go before anyone noticed the missing creatures, the better.


    Unhooking the little pouch from his belt, he turned and made his way down the hall, continuing along with a silent hope that he wasn¡¯t cornering himself in this place. When he came to a crossroad, he turned, waiting for the shadow of passing creatures trying their best to be subtle, then opened the pouch and tossed a handful of the dust into the nearest cell.


    The creature inside was an amalgamation of iron and stone jutting out of a fleshy, six legged creature, and it had no mouth, but the noise it made shook the walls around the bars, harsh enough to make Asher press his hands into his ears. He chose the path to his left and hurried down, ignoring the pain in his ankle from the forced movements. He picked another cell at random and tossed another handful at the creature inside, causing this one to thrash violently against the walls and the bars of its cage, enough to rain rocks down from the roof.


    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    Another shriek tore through the air behind him, and Asher turned just as Penn darted across the branching hallway, disappearing around another turn. The next roar made the floor shake beneath him. Asher hurried on, tossing small handfuls of dust into whatever cells he passed, until the noise was enough to make him crumble.


    The hall he had chosen ended with a wrought-iron door, and Asher paused. Going through it was just as much a risk as turning around, but turning back and retracing his steps would only guarantee walking through the chaos he had tried to create ¨C and its response.


    Taking a deep breath, he reached out to grab the handle, when the cold metal of gun pressed into the back of his head.


    ¡®You¡¯re done,¡¯ Olive said. ¡®Drop the bag.¡¯


    Asher raised his hands and let the pouch drop to the floor, the contents spilling into a small pile at his feet. His heart pounded in his chest. There was nothing he could say to prove his innocence. In this case, there was no innocence to be found.


    ¡®I¡¯m almost impressed,¡¯ Olive said. ¡®If you¡¯d put your head down and run when you had a chance, you would have lived to see tomorrow.¡¯


    ¡®What about everyone else?¡¯ Asher asked. ¡®What you¡¯re doing here isn¡¯t natural.¡¯


    Olive laughed, so spitefully that it ground Asher¡¯s teeth together. ¡®You¡¯re telling me what is and isn¡¯t natural? You, the witch?¡¯


    ¡®This place is why everything is going wrong,¡¯ Asher pressed. ¡®Don¡¯t you see that? You¡¯re tearing holes in the world.¡¯


    ¡®If we were, you¡¯d be on board, wouldn¡¯t you?¡¯ Olive demanded. ¡®All your little buddies in one place.¡¯


    ¡®You don¡¯t know why I¡¯m here,¡¯ Asher said.


    ¡®Oh, I saw the empty cells,¡¯ Olive said. ¡®You¡¯re going to tell me you didn¡¯t open them and let all those nasty little things out?¡¯


    ¡®Those ones aren¡¯t evil,¡¯ Asher whispered.


    ¡®They all are,¡¯ Olive said. ¡®That¡¯s the point. They¡¯re of this world, or they ain¡¯t. You¡¯ve lost yourself to all this, Lieutenant. No different from any other agent that sneaks their way in.¡¯


    Asher¡¯s mind raced, trying to come up with any move that wouldn¡¯t end with him shot, but the barrel of Olive¡¯s pistol pressed hard against his skull. It knocked against the base of his head as she came forward and grabbed his arm.


    ¡®Are you going to shoot me?¡¯ Asher asked.


    ¡®Try anything, and I¡¯ll take out your good leg,¡¯ Olive growled.


    She twisted his arm around behind his back, and Asher cried out. It was joined by another cry, this one louder, feral and angry.


    Penn.


    Asher turned as Olive swung her pistol around to aim it at Penn¡¯s head. Penn shouted again, throwing his arms wide. The walls shook. Grit and rubble broke from the ceiling. Asher saw his chance.


    He threw his weight into Olive¡¯s side, driving them both into the wall. Asher dug his fingers into her wrist until the pistol fell from her grip. He kicked it away as her fist rammed into his ribs, knocking the breath from his lungs. Another punch caught his jaw, and he stumbled back, righting himself as Olive drove her shoulder into his collar, pinning him to the wall.


    The walls shook again, the earth quaking beneath their feet, and Penn leapt forward, charging into Olive and knocking her away. Olive recovered quickly, catching Penn by the scruff of his hood and twisting it around until the fabric pressed into his windpipe. She kicked Asher¡¯s next attack away, catching the shin of his bad leg and sending a blinding, white hot pain through it.


    Penn struggled, yelling and shrieking what could only be curse words, before his palm shot upward and grabbed Olive¡¯s jaw. With another shout, the wall behind them crumbled completely, crashing down over both of them.


    A Fienta stood on the other side.


    Complete, paralysing fear washed over Asher at the sight of it. It wasn¡¯t the same stitched together abomination that had nearly killed him in Le Torkani, but it was clearly also made by the Alchemist. This one started as an exotic creature Asher could place if he had a book, a bipedal bird with long legs and a feathered body. Its wings had been ripped off, replaced with dozens of insect-like legs, and the head of a human man sat at the end of a long neck. It was bulbous and bruised, the top of the head missing chunks of hair where feathers had been burned into flesh. The eyes and the mouth had been crudely sewn shut. It lunged towards Asher, but its wide body and tall stature caught on the edges of the hole and it felt back with a pained whine.


    The pouch of dust still sat at his feet, and Asher caught it under his cane, dragging the leather across the opening as the creature lunged again, trailing a line of dust between them. This time, a shimmering, iridescent sheet covered the gap, and the creature¡¯s body sizzled where it met the barrier. Blood roared in Asher¡¯s ears, rushing faster as Olive got to her feet. She flicked the lock down on her pistol, then another part of the wall imploded.


    The bone creature they had seen on their way in charged through the new opening, with another identical one following close on its heels. Asher hooked the pouch onto the end of his cane and flicked it up into his hand. He threw his arm in a wide arch to create another line between him and the creatures. The bag was almost empty now, but he tossed it to Penn, feeling the now familiar grit of the dust on his hands.


    The two bone-creatures swiped at Penn, and Penn fumbled with the pouch, before something exploded against Asher¡¯s side. He and Olive were thrown into the wall, stars flashing across his vision as the bird-monster gave a muffled shriek. It threw itself at the shimmering barrier again, and another pulse of energy blasted out, but it held firm.


    ¡®What the fuck did you do to that thing?¡¯ Olive pulled herself up and aimed the pistol directly at it, her hands shaking as she readied her aim. Asher struggled up with her, barely finding his footing before she fired.


    The shot was loud and painful, enough to leave a whine at the base of Asher¡¯s ears, but the bullet never hit. Instead it bounced off the barrier and clattered to the floor, leaving a smoking dent where it had struck the invisible wall.


    No, not a dent. A hole.


    Olive swore and flicked the lock down again, just as Penn cried out and a fiery flash of white light enveloped Asher¡¯s peripherals. The bone-creatures had him cornered, pushing him further down the hall, but Penn was fighting, and he was pissed. When Olive readied the shot again, Asher cried out and knocked her aim off, but the shot still went wild and another hole ripped into the barrier.


    ¡®Stop!¡¯ Asher cried. The bird-monster threw itself at the barrier again, and this time it warped and folded around its body, stretching against it, and the pulse of energy was only a puff of hot air.


    No. Asher couldn¡¯t fight this thing. There were no spirits here, and he¡¯d already used up the little he had in the pouch. The barrier had to hold, it needed to.


    The monster lunged again, and with a strangled cry, Asher threw himself forward and pressed both of his palms into its face.


    The pain was incredible. White hot fire enveloped his entire body as his hands stuck fast to the barrier between him and the monster, trapping him against it as though the thing meant to absorb him and tear him apart at the same time. Knives stabbed deep into his bones, driving into his skull, making his vision blur, but he couldn¡¯t tear away. He couldn¡¯t move. He couldn¡¯t let go. Whatever Sara had shown him with that bowl now seemed nothing more than a mild discomfort as every one of his nerves exploded into molten glass and melted over his muscles. He could feel the same iridescent energy from the barrier ripping through him, shredding him into strips, into dust that would fade away if he didn¡¯t let go, but he couldn¡¯t let go.


    The barrier was holding. The Fienta, still on the other side, had also stuck fast and was writhing in pain, its movements jerky and desperate as it too tried to pull away. He had to kill it. He knew he had to, or it¡¯d break through and he¡¯d have nothing. He would kill it. He would not let these things beat him again.


    A pale, gentle hand came down to rest over his, and Asher found the smallest shred of energy in him, buried deep down and hiding away to keep him alive, and he ripped it upward. His hands ¨C with the strange one still resting on his ¨C fell through the barrier, and as soon as palm met tough, scarred flesh, the Fienta burst into flame. Its body tore away from the wall between them as the smell of burning flesh and feathers enveloped the space, the creature shrieking and convulsing and writhing, until it quickly and thankfully fell into an ashen heap on the floor.


    The strangers hand pulled away, and Asher turned to see Hadley standing next to him. She looked exactly the same, with her short red hair and tattered dress, and as dark eyes met his, she gave him a sad smile, then disappeared in a blink.


    With her, Asher¡¯s strength evaporated. His legs turned to jelly under him, and the pain in his skull turned into white noise that swallowed his vision and burned through his entire body. He felt someone with much rougher hands grab his arm, then his body gave in completely and darkness swallowed him whole.

 Chapter 18.1 - Wardens Rest

    ¡®Wake up.¡¯


    Asher sat up, adrenaline charging through his body as the reality of the situation set in. He¡¯d collapsed in front of Olive Delana, left himself completely at her mercy. Yet, he wasn¡¯t in the tunnels, or anywhere he recognised. He sat on the bank of a river that shimmered iridescent blue, surrounded by trees and rocks so craggy and uneven that no human could traverse it naturally. The moss climbing up the strange, grey trunks collected up into a grassy canopy above, blocking out the sky and raining down thin ribbons of vine and ivy.


    No, this wasn¡¯t a forest; it was a cave. The grey trunks were instead jagged rock pillars overrun with cracks and moss, and the canopy above was only the same rock covered in a grassy decay. Light from the river threw shimmering patterns across the space, and lights danced under the cracks in the stone, flittering past fast and frequent. Sitting next to him, her back straight and her gaze unblinking, was Hadley.


    ¡®You were not the first person I expected,¡¯ she said. ¡®But I¡¯m not surprised you came back either.¡¯


    ¡®Back?¡¯ Asher echoed. No, not back. He couldn¡¯t be back here, not now. The pouch on his hip was gone, his hands were clear of any dust. He didn¡¯t even have his cane or a sword or anything he could use to defend himself.


    Hadley held up a hand. ¡®Relax. This isn¡¯t Le Torkani. Nothing is coming for you here.¡¯


    The words didn¡¯t comfort him. ¡®Where is this?¡¯


    ¡®The short answer is that you¡¯re unconscious,¡¯ Hadley said.


    Asher shifted, trying to see what this place could be, or if there was a physical way he could have gotten here. For a dream, it was very lucid. ¡®What¡¯s the long answer?¡¯ he asked.


    Hadley¡¯s face fell, and in that moment Asher saw age in her features, in the crows feet at her eyes, at the lines in her forehead. The scars across her collar were harsh and angry in the low light, looking more like a freshly scabbed injury.


    ¡®I went too far, didn¡¯t I?¡¯ Asher asked. ¡®I shouldn¡¯t have fought that thing by myself.¡¯


    ¡®Who else was going to?¡¯ Hadley asked. ¡®But no, you didn¡¯t. You came close, but you¡¯re still in one piece. It¡¯s how I was able to reach out to you like this.¡¯


    ¡®So you¡¯re in my head?¡¯


    A wry smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. ¡®It¡¯s a Fienta trick, I know. I only learned about it to defend myself, but right now it¡¯s necessary.¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t understand.¡¯ Asher eased forward to see where the light was coming from in the river, but he couldn¡¯t see beyond the shimmering haze of the surface.


    ¡®I haven¡¯t explained it,¡¯ Hadley said. ¡®I don¡¯t know how to. You¡¯re the first person to come here since I found it. Except you¡¯re not really here, and I cannot leave.¡¯


    ¡®Because you tried to close the Gate.¡¯ Asher tried to phrase it like a question, but it didn¡¯t come out right.


    ¡®I succeeded in closing the Gate,¡¯ Hadley corrected. ¡®But it meant stepping through it and closing it from the other side. The effort destroyed me, and now I¡¯m more spirit than human. Not dead, but I cannot return.¡¯


    ¡®You¡­ stepped into that place?¡¯ Asher asked. He tried to imagine it, walking through a doorway knowing where it led. He pictured a gun to his head, the promise of thousands of people dying, or a chance to end this whole mess once and for all. He couldn¡¯t picture it. The fear was still a pressing spike in the back of his mind.


    ¡®I thought this was the Underlands too, when I first came here,¡¯ Hadley said. ¡®It took me far too long to realise that it couldn¡¯t be. I didn¡¯t corrupt.¡¯


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    ¡®I thought magic corrupts you?¡¯ Asher asked. ¡®That¡¯s why it¡¯s so dangerous.¡¯


    Hadley chuckled and got to her feet, brushing off the tattered remains of her dress. ¡®You¡¯ve been speaking to Sara.¡¯


    ¡®That¡¯s where you sent me,¡¯ Asher pointed out. He glanced around for something he could use to pry himself up, though he couldn¡¯t picture going anywhere in this place without something to lean on.


    ¡®If you are trying to stand, I can make it simple,¡¯ Hadley said. ¡®You are unconscious. Your leg is not broken here.¡¯


    Asher eased himself up, bracing for the familiar ache that had become so constant these last few weeks. His ankle twinged at the memory, as though it knew it was supposed to hurt, but it faded quickly. He tested his balance, rocking from side to side, but both feet stayed firm.


    ¡®I don¡¯t blame you for listening to Sara,¡¯ Hadley said. ¡®I wouldn¡¯t have trusted anyone else. But she is still a little girl wondering lost in the forest. That¡¯s not her fault, but it¡¯s also not any way to do this properly.¡¯


    Hadley beckoned him forward, then stepped into the river. Her foot met the surface and stayed as though it was solid, the ripples around her feet turning from blue to orange. Asher mimicked the motion, feeling the gentle rapids flowing over his boots, but the ground was solid. His footsteps also turned the light orange.


    ¡®The Telkites have a story about this place,¡¯ Hadley said. ¡®I can¡¯t remember the pronunciation of the name of it. Pelortina¡­ Pelortani¡­ um¡­¡¯


    The word flashed through his head, an old memory revived from the far corners of his childhood. ¡®Pelortiani?¡¯


    ¡®That¡¯s the one,¡¯ Hadley said.


    ¡®My mother used to tell me that story.¡¯ Asher couldn¡¯t believe he still remembered it. ¡®It was about how the gods¡­ or they weren¡¯t gods, but they would watch over soldiers in battle, and when the battle was too hard, they would bring those men to a resting area.¡¯


    Hadley bit her lip. ¡®I¡¯m explaining your own culture to you, aren¡¯t I?¡¯


    ¡®Not really,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®I don¡¯t remember it that well. My mother left Telkesi when she was a little girl.¡¯


    ¡®So did everyone else¡¯s mothers,¡¯ Hadley mumbled. She turned and strode down the river, further into the cave, and Asher rushed to catch up. Walking on both feet felt odd, as though at any moment his leg would crumble and the pain would come back tenfold. ¡®So much culture and history, gone in a blink,¡¯ she continued. ¡®I¡¯d say it¡¯s a habit, but no-one can control disaster the same as other erasure. That¡¯s the real tragedy, isn¡¯t it?¡¯


    Asher blinked. ¡®Are you saying that this place is Pelortiani?¡¯


    ¡®I grew up in Fanmaryh,¡¯ Hadley continued as though he hadn¡¯t spoken. ¡®When I first started seeing the spirits, the telkite locals were quick to call me a warden. Strange girl. From another world. They believed I came from this place. That all witches came from this place. I don¡¯t remember the word, but I remember what it means. Wardens Rest.¡¯


    ¡®So is it true or not?¡¯ Asher asked. He couldn¡¯t see where the cave was leading, but the river remained flat and straight, stretching out into the mossy not-quite-forest ahead.


    ¡®Is it true that magic attracts fienta? That the dust we fight them off with is intrinsically linked to the place that keeps them?¡¯


    ¡®I think so.¡¯


    ¡®So then it is true that all witches work as servants of those Fienta, the arms and voices of creatures locked from our world?¡¯


    ¡®I¡­¡¯


    ¡®Such is myth and history,¡¯ Hadley said. ¡®Is this the same place as in those tales? I don¡¯t know. I¡¯d like to think so.¡¯ She reached up and caught a low hanging vine between her fingers, tugging on it gentle until it fell out of reach. ¡®I know I was born in Fanmaryh, and so was my mother and father. Their parents came from a northern kingdom. Not as exciting as another world. I know I didn¡¯t see spirits ¨C or even know about them ¨C until my friend fell into a hole and I had to pull him out, but it put me in a long sleep that lasted for days.¡¯


    The same as what¡¯s under the ash rings, Asher added silently.


    ¡®I also know that this is a place of betweens,¡¯ Hadley said. ¡®Which is what a witch is. Standing between the human and spirit world. Between the natural order and absolute chaos. When I explore the far corners, I find that time itself is an inbetween here. So it is not a place of origin for a witch, but it is a place of rest for one.¡¯


    ¡®Rest suggests you¡¯ll go back,¡¯ Asher pointed out.


    ¡®You will go back,¡¯ Hadley corrected. ¡®But it¡¯s more complicated than that. You aren¡¯t really here. I allowed spiritual power to pass through me to the point where my human body was no longer that. I am here in the between because I am between. It¡¯s the way for all witches.¡¯


    This was starting to make his head spin. ¡®So you¡¯re trapped here?¡¯


    ¡®Until the magic leaves me, yes,¡¯ Hadley said. ¡®Then I can go wherever it is dead people go. Or if I come back together in the time it takes, I will return home.¡¯


    ¡®Aren¡¯t you lonely?¡¯ Asher blurted the words out before he could stop himself.


    Hadley only gave another coy smile. ¡®Not as lonely as you think.¡¯


    The ground dipped beneath them, a slope turning to a set of stairs that broke out of the water. The water stayed even with the decline, at no point falling under the stairs or flowing over them. Hadley made her way down, then stopped seemingly out of nowhere. She shifted to the side so Asher could step onto the step next to her.

 Chapter 18.2 - To Be Nothing At All

    The cave ahead of them lit up as pillars of white flame burst from cracks in the ground, geysers of white fire that licked the mossy ceiling above. Heat washed over him and he staggered back, but Hadley grabbed his shoulder and held him firm.


    ¡®Don¡¯t be afraid,¡¯ Hadley said. ¡®They sense your fear as hesitation. Hesitation begets evil.¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t agree with that,¡¯ Asher said.


    ¡®Of course not, we¡¯re human,¡¯ Hadley said. ¡®But these are simple beings of simple concepts. They are offering themselves because the natural order needs to be repaired, and that is your role to them. Hesitating means you don¡¯t know if it needs to be repaired.¡¯


    ¡®But¡­¡¯ Asher felt the tightness in his chest return. Teka had said something similar, that he needed to give some kind of oath, that he wasn¡¯t a true witch until he did.


    ¡®That is their reasoning,¡¯ Hadley said. ¡®You force it and they burn you. You turn away and they burn you. I see that you are afraid, and it¡¯s far more complicated than that.¡¯


    Asher shook his head, not sure if it was a general refusal of all of this or if he needed to untangle his head. ¡®I¡­ I¡¯m not a witch,¡¯ he mumbled.


    ¡®The last I saw you, you were in uniform,¡¯ Hadley said. ¡®You are a guard?¡¯


    The knot in his stomach tightened. ¡®I¡¯m not anymore.¡¯


    ¡®So you are not anything,¡¯ Hadley said. ¡®No wonder you¡¯re afraid. It¡¯s a terrible place to be.¡¯


    ¡®What am I supposed to be?¡¯ Asher asked.


    Hadley dropped down onto the steps, gesturing for him to follow. ¡®I can¡¯t answer that. Though, we have time while the magic leaves your system. Perhaps you can tell me.¡¯


    Asher dropped onto the step and ran his hands through his hair. ¡®I don¡¯t even know what¡¯s real anymore.¡¯


    ¡®You do have one thing I don¡¯t,¡¯ Hadley said. ¡®Someone who can answer questions.¡¯


    ¡®Are you offering to help me?¡¯ Asher asked.


    ¡®Of course,¡¯ Hadley said. ¡®I¡¯ve been in your position, remember? Alone, afraid, but being the only witch left in the world, I didn¡¯t have anyone to ask. I had to figure it out myself. I don¡¯t see why I should force others to do the same.¡¯


    ¡®How did you figure it out?¡¯ Asher asked. ¡®Because none of this makes any sense to me.¡¯


    Hadley smiled. ¡®One day at a time.¡¯


    ¡®Are you really the last witch left?¡¯ Asher asked.


    Hadley nodded. ¡®I wasn¡¯t sure until I came here. There¡¯s so much to know if I explore the right places, and I have all the time in the world to do it. But yes, I am the last witch.¡¯


    ¡®How bad is that?¡¯ Asher asked. ¡®If magic causes corruption, then isn¡¯t it possible that no magic means no corruption? No fienta, no Le Torkani, no¡­¡¯ this was the same thing that justified killing them. The same path of logic that people were using to destroy everything.


    ¡®The Gate will still exist; there¡¯s no going back from that,¡¯ Hadley said. ¡®And you don¡¯t have to be a witch to destroy the natural order of the world. Your adversary, who you angered back in Le Torkani, all he did was cut up people and stitch the pieces together. No magic required.¡¯


    ¡®So, what is true about being a witch?¡¯ Asher asked. ¡®Sara told me about how there are layers to magic, and there was this thing with a smoking bowl¡ª¡¯


    ¡®I remember that one,¡¯ Hadley said. ¡®Yes, that¡¯s still true. The natural order doesn¡¯t demand we sacrifice ourselves. Giving life is not required to make the world turn. That is why we are brought here, or if it is used for evil, to Le Torkani. How far into the bowl did you reach?¡¯


    ¡®I didn¡¯t even reach the rim,¡¯ Asher mumbled. ¡®What kind of witch can I be if I¡¯m not even that strong?¡¯


    ¡®It¡¯s not about strength,¡¯ Hadley said. ¡®That¡¯s not what they want; that¡¯s why they burn you.¡¯ She tilted her head in question. ¡®What brought you here? Why did you follow my birds?¡¯


    ¡®I just want to understand all of this,¡¯ Asher mumbled. ¡®But I don¡¯t. I still don¡¯t.¡¯


    ¡®Neither did I,¡¯ Hadley said. ¡®When I found out they were using our old courier office, I didn¡¯t understand how any of it was different or wrong. I went with my instincts. I still don¡¯t entirely get it. All I know is that the worlds are blending together under there, and it made it easy to reach you.¡¯


    ¡®You were trying to reach Sara?¡¯ Asher asked.


    ¡®I was trying to reach anyone,¡¯ Hadley said. ¡®But Sara is still willing to stand with me, and that means so much more than I can explain.¡¯


    ¡®She feels guilty,¡¯ Asher mumbled. ¡®She wishes she had gone with you.¡¯


    ¡®I wish she had too,¡¯ Hadley said. ¡®But I know why she didn¡¯t. I know it was selfish of me to ask. We¡¯re not supposed to sacrifice ourselves just to keep the world turning. I should have remembered that.¡¯


    ¡®Do you regret it?¡¯ Asher asked.


    ¡®No.¡¯ Hadley¡¯s answer was fast and sure. ¡®No, I don¡¯t. I know if I failed, the Gate would have opened and the disaster would have taken everything. Those bastards got exactly what they wanted; they wanted us dead and now there are none left. They should reap the consequences, but the world shouldn¡¯t burn to make it happen.¡¯


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    Asher bit down on his lip, mulling over the words. He had, not five minutes ago, wanted Navarre to see the damage he had caused, what his actions had done to innocent people. ¡®Dalvany was almost destroyed,¡¯ he mumbled.


    ¡®I know.¡¯


    ¡®So many people are hurt or dead, and so many more are trapped in Le Torkani? and they shouldn¡¯t be there at all.¡¯


    ¡®I know that too.¡¯ Hadley was watching him intently, as though waiting for him to notice a giant sign inches from his face. When he didn¡¯t say anything, she nudged him with her shoulder. ¡®If you weren¡¯t a witch, if you weren¡¯t even sier, and you found out what they were doing in those tunnels, would you have stopped them?¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯d like to think I would,¡¯ Asher mumbled. ¡®But I know what it means. If I didn¡¯t¡­ maybe they could have convinced me. I don¡¯t know. I can¡¯t know.¡¯


    ¡®Such is the way of the world,¡¯ Hadley said. ¡®You know that so many people were hung just for protesting the actions. Most of them had no idea either.¡¯


    ¡®Even if I wasn¡¯t a witch, they would kill me,¡¯ Asher said. That was the fate waiting for him when he woke up from this place. If he woke up from this place.


    ¡®But you aren¡¯t a witch,¡¯ Hadley pointed out. ¡®You said that before.¡¯


    ¡®I¡­¡¯


    ¡®You use it synonymously with your knowledge of the bigger picture,¡¯ Hadley said. ¡®But seeing the threads that tie the world together doesn¡¯t make you a witch.¡¯ She smiled again. ¡®I know how it is. It¡¯s larger than you, larger than everything you know, and to ignore it is to pretend you¡¯re not ablaze in the sun¡¯s inferno.¡¯


    ¡®I just don¡¯t want to give up part of myself,¡¯ Asher mumbled. ¡®It¡¯s all I have left.¡¯


    ¡®Ah, but consider the alternative,¡¯ Hadley said. ¡®This is a part of you. You are only pushing back against the options your situation provides.¡¯


    ¡®Is that a fancy way of asking me if I might want this?¡¯


    ¡®No, but I will raise a similar question. What is your ultimate goal? Take everything you know, everything you have felt and all that you are running from. Why stay? Why continue to dig if you are only tearing yourself apart?¡¯


    ¡®I came to Dalvany to keep the peace,¡¯ Asher said. Though he didn¡¯t ever get around to doing that. Instead, he¡¯d been running around in circles while everything descended into chaos, and he had felt powerless the whole time, felt useless. ¡®I just wanted to help,¡¯ he mumbled. ¡®I lost my friend. So many people lost someone. Everyone was afraid, and I¡¯ve never been more terrified, but there was nothing I could do, except give up myself and become something else.¡¯


    ¡®Give up what, exactly?¡¯ Hadley asked.


    Asher stared at her. It was hard to articulate what he really meant. He didn¡¯t believe much in souls ¨C at least, he didn¡¯t think he did ¨C but the thought that he wouldn¡¯t control what he became, or lose control of his own actions in a way he didn¡¯t see, that terrified him more than anything.


    ¡®You are afraid of change,¡¯ Hadley said. ¡®Because it¡¯s not a change that has already happened, but one you can see coming. You already have; you do see that right? Are you still the guard who came to Dalvany to keep the peace?¡¯


    ¡®That guard didn¡¯t even think witches were real,¡¯ Asher mumbled. Hadley chuckled, and Asher smiled despite himself.


    ¡®Change is a part of things,¡¯ Hadley said. ¡®We just don¡¯t notice it most of the time. We¡¯ve gotten off track though. The real question is what you plan to do now.¡¯


    ¡®If that place keeps doing what it¡¯s doing, the Gate is going to open,¡¯ Asher said.


    ¡®Yes. Soon, if my instincts are on track.¡¯


    ¡®People are going to get hurt.¡¯


    ¡®They¡¯re going to die.¡¯


    Asher flinched. ¡®There has to be something I can do to stop it.¡¯


    ¡®And if you can¡¯t?¡¯ Hadley asked.


    ¡®I will,¡¯ Asher pressed. ¡®I just¡­ don¡¯t know how.¡¯


    ¡®Yes. You do.¡¯


    Asher turned to where the pillars of flame were still bursting out of the ground, a sporadic path of fire that left little room to avoid it.


    ¡®All you need is the dust,¡¯ Hadley said. ¡®Would you be willing to reveal what you know about it to give others the same advantage?¡¯


    ¡®I¡­¡¯ There were some he would trust if it came to that. People in town who weren¡¯t trying to cause a panic. Sara, or Temperance, who already knew. Norrah, if she didn¡¯t think he was completely insane. There was no telling if it would even work. If it was enough.


    Maybe this was just a way to convince him to take this oath, to be a witch. The idea still terrified him, but now he wasn¡¯t sure he knew what it even meant. A warden, protecting the border between worlds? Maybe, if he was strong enough. Someone who could see the spirits, who knew about them and the Nakati and the dust and the role it all played? That was already set in stone. He could always stay as he was, throwing rocks at monsters and stopping Penn from committing so many petty crimes. He wouldn¡¯t ever go back to being a Lieutenant. He¡¯d be lucky if he didn¡¯t wake up in gallows or a prison cell. It was ironic in a way, that he had become a pariah of his old community, but still wanted to fall into that role so smoothly despite it all. In a sense, he was already there.


    He was already there¡­


    Asher slowly got to his feet, taking a careful step towards the nearest pillar of fire. Hadley caught his arm, pulling him to a stop. Again, the lines on her face creased, showing the fear that clearly still existed under the surface.


    ¡®If this is your decision, then I respect it,¡¯ she said. ¡®But think about it. If you show them full loyalty, if you swear this, you will never go back.¡¯


    Asher¡¯s stomach churned, but the sensation wasn¡¯t as strong as it had been. ¡®I already can¡¯t turn back,¡¯ he said.


    Hadley recoiled, then a slow smile spread across her face. She released his arm. Asher felt the difference in balance, and it locked his legs in place.


    ¡®How do I do this?¡¯ he asked.


    ¡®Accept that they¡¯re not going to hurt you,¡¯ Hadley said. ¡®They¡¯re coming into our world to help. Show them that you need their help.¡¯ She chuckled at Asher¡¯s confused expression. ¡®Just relax. Tell yourself it¡¯s not real fire.¡¯


    It¡¯s not real fire. Asher turned and stepped off the last stair, the closest pillar now inches from his face. The heat seared at his skin, burning the end of his nose and making his eyes itch. He shut his eyes tight, pulling in a deep breath of air that flared through his throat. It¡¯s not real, it¡¯s not real.


    Except it was. It was very real, and part of him had accepted that as soon as Sara and Gershwin told him how it worked. It hadn¡¯t hurt him before, and there was no reason it would now. He remembered the first time he let the smoke run through his fingers, catching it against his skin, and tried to imagine this was the same again, that he was no better than a curious child sticking his hand in a hole.


    Warmth enveloped his hand, and Asher¡¯s eyes shot open. His entire forearm was sitting in the pillar, the flames licking at his coat and his hand, dancing around his skin, but there was no pain. His fingers buzzed, tingling with sharp little needles, but it wasn¡¯t unpleasant. It was the warmth of a freshly heated bath, or being under a down blanket after an intense day in the sun. Uncomfortable, but if he held it for long enough, he would stop noticing it.


    A strange feeling washed over him, a calmness so overwhelming he questioned if he had ever felt true calm. He moved his hand around, curling and flexing his fingers in the flame, watching as the embers licked and flickered around the movements, dancing around them without a care in the world. He pulled his hand out and saw that now familiar sheen of dust coating his palm, shimmering in the light. There was no pain, no dizziness, no desire to throw up.


    He turned back to Hadley, feeling a smile creep across his face. Only, the staircase was empty. The pillars of flame sizzled out in a blink, and before his smile could fade, the world plunged into blackness.

 Chapter 19.1 - The Truth Comes Out

    Cold water blasted across his face, and Asher woke, coughing and spluttering. His chest heaved as he fought to breathe against it, but his body wouldn¡¯t move. Pain slammed into him hard, his entire body screaming as a thousand aches and cuts and bruises all rushed to the surface at once. Chains chaffed the skin of his wrists, locking his arms tight to a splintered chair. The edges of his vision blurred, making long shadows fuzzy and the already dark room showed no clue to where he was.


    ¡®Is he awake?¡¯ A male voice, deep and familiar.


    ¡®He is now,¡¯ Olive said. The clatter of metal against stone rang out behind him. Asher tried to lift his head, but it was heavy, his neck not strong enough to pull it upright. Boots appeared on the edge of his vision, echoing loud, telling him they were in a large, empty room. Part of him searched for the spirits and the pillars of flame, wondering if he was still in the cave. Perhaps he hadn¡¯t left the strange prison beneath Dalvany. His thoughts were slow to surface, trudging forward as though trapped in a bog.


    A rough hand yanked at his hair, ripping it upwards and forcing Asher upright as he hissed in pain. He came face to face with Magnus Barque. The man had a stone gaze, the lines of his anger made sharper by the light from a single candle. He let go of Asher¡¯s hair, and it took a painful effort for Asher to meet his gaze. After a beat of staring each other down, Magnus sighed.


    ¡®I was worried you killed him,¡¯ Olive commented.


    ¡®Are you going to kill me?¡¯ Asher asked.


    ¡®Not yet.¡¯ Magnus raised his hand, and Olive struck Asher hard across the jaw, snapping his head to the side hard enough to make the bone click. Pain radiated through his face.


    ¡®We¡¯ve got a few questions for you,¡¯ Olive said.


    ¡®Where am I?¡¯ Asher struggled to get the words out. His mouth tasted like blood.


    ¡®This isn¡¯t a two way conversation,¡¯ Magnus growled. ¡®How did you find our base?¡¯


    ¡®What?¡¯ Asher tried to hold Magnus¡¯ gaze, but his head was still heavy, his vision blurring. Something in the back of his head ached in a way he hadn¡¯t felt before, as if someone had pulled his brain out of his head and replaced it with a brick. There were no windows, no way to tell how long he¡¯d been in that strange place with Hadley.


    ¡®Did someone tell you where to go?¡¯ Magnus asked. ¡®I doubt you found this place because you fell into it while you were hiding. Perhaps that little homeless peasant you¡¯ve been sneaking around with? Or do your new friends whisper things in your ear?¡¯


    Whisper things¡­ the words echoed in Asher¡¯s head. They thought he was working with the Fienta? Of course, that was all a witch was to the zealous ones. If he didn¡¯t convince them otherwise, this would end with him hanging from a noose.


    ¡®Who. Told. You?¡¯ Magnus pressed each word, then stepped forward until their knees were touching. Olive raised her hand to strike. Asher accepted that either way he was going to be hit. He wasn¡¯t about to give up Penn or Sara.


    ¡®A bird did,¡¯ he said.


    The punch came hard, sending stars scattering across his vision. One of his teeth knocked loose, pressing against the inside of his cheek. Asher forced himself to focus through it. ¡®Why are you messing with all of this stuff? Why are you doing this?¡¯


    ¡®Answer my question,¡¯ Magnus snapped.


    ¡®I followed the trail,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®People have been missing for over a year! And Navarre had notes with the same dates!¡¯


    Magnus lip curled. ¡®This is my fault, I admit. Chavereau never went astray, and it meant I never questioned his decisions. He said you had history, that you could be controlled. I did not bet on you being more out of control than that little Euthrian brat, but I should have not put so much faith in that man.¡¯


    ¡®He was in charge of this whole thing, wasn¡¯t he?¡¯ Asher¡¯s voice was small. ¡®This whole time you all knew what was going on.¡¯


    ¡®If that¡¯s taken you this long to figure it out, you really are an awful investigator,¡¯ Magnus said.


    ¡®You made me think I was mad,¡¯ Asher mumbled.


    ¡®I did no such thing,¡¯ Magnus snapped. ¡®I warned you. I told you not to lose yourself to this. And have you? Are you a witch? Working with the very demons that brought all this destruction to your home in the first place?¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t work with those monsters,¡¯ Asher said.


    ¡®I don¡¯t want your reasoning,¡¯ Magnus snapped. ¡®It¡¯s a yes or no question.¡¯


    ¡®You¡¯ll hang me either way,¡¯ Asher mumbled.


    Olive snorted. ¡®You¡¯ll hang because you¡¯re a fucking criminal. There¡¯s enough evidence to put you on the Black Scroll at minimum. Attacking two of your fellow guards with magic, doing who knows what else to them, burning the slaughterhouse to summon your little pets, and to top it off, you turned a creature to ash with a gesture and a pouch of sand. Smells like witchcraft to me.¡¯


    ¡®Did all the people you hung do the same?¡¯ Asher asked.


    This earned him another punch, this time square in the nose. A dull, horrible pain burst through his sinuses as the bone cracked. Asher coughed as his airways closed up, warm blood running down his lip and jaw.


    ¡®We both know it wasn¡¯t sand in that pouch,¡¯ Magnus said. He reached into his pocket and pulled free the little bag he¡¯d thrown at the Fienta. Asher was surprised to see it was in one piece, and wondered if it was a copy, but the thinnest stream of white mist broke from the top. He held it up in front of Asher. ¡®Where did you get this?¡¯


    Did he not see it? Asher tried to read the man¡¯s expression, looking for the slightest hint that he registered the bag smoking in his hands, but there was nothing.


    ¡®You don¡¯t know how it works?¡¯ Asher asked him.


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡®You¡¯re in no position to speak down to me,¡¯ Magnus growled. ¡®I know it comes from this other place. I know it is toxic to you and yours. Where did you get it? Is there an opening to the Underlands we¡¯re not aware of, or have you been acting in espionage since you came out the first time?¡¯


    ¡®What if I just took it all with me when I came back to Dalvany?¡¯ Asher suggested.


    ¡®If that¡¯s true, then this is your last lot,¡¯ Magnus said. He sighed. ¡®What deal did you have to make with those creatures to turn on your own kind?¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t work for those things,¡¯ Asher spoke through gritted teeth.


    Magnus lashed out suddenly, a slap that aggravated hi already forming bruises. Before he could shake it off, the man¡¯s hand gripped a fistful of Asher¡¯s hair and yanked hard, sending his head back into the chair. Asher hissed in pain, but forced himself to meet Magnus¡¯ gaze.


    ¡®You are no better than a bratty child,¡¯ Magnus growled. ¡®We watched you release dozens of those things on the town, and any chaos they reap before the guards find them is on you. How are you so blinded by this loyalty that you do not see that?¡¯


    He couldn¡¯t see the spirits. Asher didn¡¯t even know how it was possible, since he saw the Fienta and knew about the Gate. Somehow, even after Hadley explained it, there were still more questions. ¡®You¡¯ve been experimenting on the Gate,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®You¡­ you were the one keeping them.¡¯


    ¡®Holding them,¡¯ Magnus corrected. ¡®We weren¡¯t the ones who tore a hole in the wall between worlds. These creatures are terrorising people, and you witches were the ones carving those holes to bring them here. All you¡¯re accusing me of is cleaning up a mess that you¡¯ve played a part in causing.¡¯


    ¡®How can you know all of this and not even see¡ª¡¯


    ¡®I see just fine,¡¯ Magnus said. ¡®I am not about to listen to any supposed hidden agenda. This is about progress. It¡¯s about what has been told for centuries of history, that can¡¯t be ignored. As long as creatures like you drag those things into our world, there is a need to progress the strength of the Kingdom. If we want to remain as we are, we need to understand them.¡¯


    ¡®That¡¯s not what I¡­¡¯ Asher couldn¡¯t think of anything that could convince the man that all of this was breaking the world apart. There were many worlds and some of them were friendly? Magnus wouldn¡¯t go for that; he was convinced Asher was friends with the enemy. ¡®What about the King?¡¯ Asher asked instead. ¡®Was making an entire city disappear part of keeping the Kingdom safe and strong?¡¯


    Magnus laughed, a harsh and throaty sound. ¡®You accuse me of making Valenda disappear? You¡¯re further gone than I believed.¡¯ He turned the pouch over in his hands, unbothered by the mist that passed through his fingers as though it wasn¡¯t there at all. ¡®King Thaddae was a coward,¡¯ he said. ¡®¡®Willing to sit and wait while these creatures infiltrated our ranks, too worried about people seeing him as a monster to let us progress our defences. He looked past all that recorded history because the first King was murdered by his own son. Never mind that the founder was corrupted beyond repair. Things will run smoother now that he¡¯s gone.¡¯


    ¡®With you in charge?¡¯ Asher demanded.


    Magnus¡¯ brow furrowed, but he didn¡¯t respond.


    ¡®What about the history that was lost?¡¯ Asher asked. ¡®Is it impossible that something got lost in the years?¡¯


    ¡®Now you sound like a Telkite,¡¯ Magnus said. His gaze hardened. ¡®That shouldn¡¯t surprise me. Your father was a dear friend of mine. He was respectable. Honourable. A hero. It¡¯s such a waste that none of his influence had a chance to reach you. He would be ashamed to see what you¡¯ve become.¡¯


    ¡®My father is dead,¡¯ Asher muttered. It didn¡¯t matter what legacy he hoped for; Asher had never known enough about him to think about it.


    ¡®This world is lost to see such an honourable man gone in return for a cowardly little witch.¡¯ Magnus glowered, then turned and started pacing across the tiny room. ¡®Let¡¯s get back to the purpose of this conversation. Where is your accomplice? The filthy serf boy sneaking around on your behalf. There was a woman with you too. Names. Now.¡¯


    Asher bit down on his tongue, the sensation muted by the blood already in his mouth.


    ¡®You can still redeem yourself, Mr Wulverman,¡¯ Magnus said. ¡®Release your soul into the sky rather than an eternity in the Underlands.¡¯


    ¡®Why would that be so bad if they¡¯re supposedly my friends?¡¯


    The next punch turned his vision black for a second, and the dull, horrible pain was joined with the red smear of his eye swelling shut. ¡®You really are a despicable beast,¡¯ Olive growled.


    ¡®You¡¯re the one who can¡¯t tell the difference between a spirit and a mons¡ªoof.¡¯


    The next punch filled Asher¡¯s mouth with blood. He spat it out, his head throbbing and filling him with an overwhelming sense of tiredness.


    ¡®Stop with the head, Captain,¡¯ Magnus said. ¡®You¡¯ll soon have him talking nonsense.¡¯


    ¡®He already is,¡¯ Olive said.


    ¡®What¡¯s the end goal?¡¯ Asher asked. ¡®Why do you keep poking at these things, even though they¡¯re so dangerous?¡¯


    Magnus raised an eyebrow in question.


    ¡®You¡¯re going to kill me anyway,¡¯ Asher said.


    ¡®That¡¯s the glorious thing about it,¡¯ Magnus said. ¡®Once we figure out how to control that dust, or get in and out without your little friends killing every living thing, there are so many possibilities. This is how science works.¡¯


    ¡®Anything that kills the little fuckers is good enough for me,¡¯ Olive said.


    ¡®If you mess around too much, it¡¯s going to open the Gate,¡¯ Asher said. ¡®It¡¯ll kill everyone, and not just in Dalvany. You killed everyone who could have stopped it.¡¯


    ¡®Did we now?¡¯ Magnus asked. ¡®Who is going to stop this? You? Are you so special that only you can know the truth? Only you can be our saviour? The situation is contained.¡¯


    It wasn¡¯t. At least now Penn could know why he had no warning before his home was destroyed. Except he probably wouldn¡¯t see Penn again. Asher wondered if anyone in history ¨C lost or otherwise ¨C had considered someone intentionally ripping the Gate open.


    ¡®No one is going to save you,¡¯ Asher whispered. ¡®All the witches are dead.¡¯


    The next slap came from nowhere, making the chair rock dangerously. He couldn¡¯t feel the impact on his face.


    ¡®You were right about trauma to the head,¡¯ Olive said. ¡®He¡¯s starting to lose it.¡¯


    ¡®That one was my fault,¡¯ Magnus said. ¡®My emotions got the better of me. I just despise witches, I really do. Curses and secrecy and broken rules of nature. All of it fuelled towards a hatred of a more educated class. I will not be made a mockery by one.¡¯


    ¡®This isn¡¯t even about you,¡¯ Asher muttered. He braced for another attack, but it didn¡¯t come. He wished someone would hit him, even if he couldn¡¯t feel it. Otherwise it was final. He was going to die.


    ¡®He¡¯s lost,¡¯ Olive said.


    ¡®Is that your final verdict?¡¯ Magnus asked her.


    Olive nodded. ¡®You didn¡¯t see the things he did. I saw him command one of the mindless demons himself, I saw him turn night into day, and the explosion in the prison¡­ there¡¯s no hope for him. He¡¯s a witch, there¡¯s no denying that. The question is how we make him disappear.¡¯


    Magnus nodded. ¡®Then it is done. We won¡¯t make this any more trouble. He¡¯ll hang like the others.¡¯


    Asher¡¯s stomach lurched.


    ¡®People still think he¡¯s one of ours,¡¯ Olive said. ¡®Part of the guard that is. It might cause a commotion.¡¯


    ¡®He¡¯s a witch; people will need to understand that he¡¯s not human. He was never on our side. Besides, with that brat Adalynn still trying to undermine us, this might put her in her place.¡¯


    ¡®Just¡­ please.¡¯ Asher¡¯s voice was a gasp. ¡®Stop doing what you¡¯ve been doing. You have to stop. Please.¡¯


    Magnus waved his hand at Olive, and the chains rattled as they fell loose from the chair. She grabbed him roughly by the arm, yanking him so that he slumped forward, almost falling to the floor.


    ¡®You have to stop,¡¯ Asher whispered. He could feel his own desperation dulling, like a flame slowly flickering out. He was going to die. They were going to hang him. The one thing he¡¯d been terrified of happening when all this started was finally becoming reality. If he hung now, what would become of everyone else? Norrah, Sara and Gershwin, Penn¡­


    Penn¡¯s feral scream still echoed in his head. That man would not sit and wait for something to happen. He would tear through all of this if he had a chance, but he also saw himself a failure. Would those anxieties make him hesitate? If Penn thought he wasn¡¯t worth the mantle, what did that make Asher now? A witch for all of five minutes and his life was over.


    ¡®Please,¡¯ Asher whispered. It was all his body would allow him to do. ¡®Please, you have to stop.¡¯