Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Ingressus had genuinely considered not heeding Ailera’s request to meet up in the yard behind Raylis’s house. Time was of the essence, especially now, and that island was out of the way of the desired trajectory of “down–” not by much, but still not ideal. The smart thing would be to just leave, flee the islands into the wilderness of the Heart Mountains and run and hide and flee until he lost his pursuers in the endless forests and crags.

And yet, Ailera clearly knew the stakes of what Ingressus faced. And perhaps more so than that, she might know the danger he was in. Information about Atanal’s soldiers, how they were searching… anything that could help him evade them. And so here he was, crouching under the lean-to that housed Raylis’s firewood and hoping he wasn’t making a fateful mistake.

He considered the trident he still held, stolen from the soldier he’d battled. It was a good-quality one, sharp and sturdy, made from the rare copper-like material from the depths of the sea. There was no shimmer of an enchantment over its surface, meaning there was no loyalty spell tying it to its true owner. He was mildly disappointed that there would be no riptide or channeling enchantment either; those were both spells he had wished he could try out someday. But it would still serve him well enough. It had a shorter reach than Voltar or a typical staff would, but he could adjust.

A sound from outside his shelter made him draw the weapon back, sharp tines poised to stab at the perceived foe.

“Ingressus!” A familiar voice whispered. “Are you here?”

“Ailera,” Ingressus whispered back. “Were you followed?”

“No… where are you?”

Ingressus lowered the trident but didn’t set it aside as Ailera appeared. She looked at him but then turned her gaze away, sitting casually in front of the opening to the lean-to and fiddling with something in her hands.

“You’re not hurt, are you?” she said under her breath.

“No,” Ingressus replied. The blow he’d taken from the soldier he’d faced was tender, but it would only bruise. “What’s going on?”

Ailera plucked a few strands of tall grass and began idly weaving them together. “Master Atanal is after you– you might know that already. Keperin got a bunch of us together to help keep her guards off your back while you escaped. There’s a few of us patrolling the islands, and Leah and Saylor went to steal your resonance research from the forge. They probably have it by now, so don’t worry about that.”

That was one worry assuaged, but a fresh one in its place. If his friends were breaking into the forge, that meant they would likely be putting themselves in plain sight to the enemy soldiers. They risked putting targets on themselves as well. But if Ailera was right there was nothing he could do about it anymore, even if he wished he could’ve kept them from risking themselves.

“How many soldiers does Atanal have?” he asked. “What about weapons, Songs?”

“I’ve seen three, counting the one you fought,” Ailera said. “I’m not going to promise there aren’t more. Weapons, um… I saw one with a bow and arrows, and a guard staff from another one. I’m not sure on Songs. I caught a glimpse of Master Atanal, she was talking to Remus over on the south side of town. She didn’t seem armed.”

Though the enemy Master was probably the least of Ingressus’s concerns, he still felt relieved to know she was nowhere near him.

“What exactly do you mean about ‘keeping them off my back?’” Ingressus asked her.

“Just distracting them however we can,” Ailera replied. “Preferably before they end up in combat with you in the future– I’m sorry, I wasn’t quick enough with that one.”

Ingressus shook his head. “Atanal would’ve brought the best she could. They won’t be easy to stop either way.”

“Yeah…” Ailera agreed. “But we just need to keep them busy long enough for you to escape.”

Saying it made it sound so easy. Ingressus wished his optimism could match it.

“But what about you all?” he asked. “What will you do after I’m gone? Atanal won’t let this slide, you’ll need to be ready…”

A strand of grass broke in Ailera’s grip. She made a noise of frustration and tossed the grass aside, and for a moment Ingressus thought she wasn’t going to answer.

“We’ll… figure it out,” she said. “Don’t worry about us, you’ve got bigger worries.”

She wasn’t wrong, but Ingressus still hated to think that. They could have evaded the warden in this had they just kept their heads down, stayed uninvolved, left this problem to be his alone. Atanal would’ve had no reason to single them out, she might’ve left without concerning herself with anyone else, but now anyone who was spotted helping Ingressus would have to face the clans’ anger for it. They would be taken before their respective Masters, maybe even the entire high council at this point, made to stand trial, inevitably sentenced to imprisonment for however long the accusations of collusion or conspiracy would carry– or gods forbid, even treason. There would be no going back to the way things were before for them, there would only be the inevitable punishment for siding with the hated, age-old enemy in direct defiance of the Masters they were meant to follow.

Ingressus wondered briefly if he could somehow bring his friends along in his escape. Rescue them from Atanal’s reach and find somewhere they could be safe and hidden until this was over. But to escape alone would be difficult enough, and as much as he loved his friends they didn’t have the training he’d had in shaking pursuers or escaping from being hunted. He couldn’t afford to be slowed down by anything…

His own helplessness tore at him, digging its claws into his chest like a vicious undead. He had to leave, but what was it going to cost? How much weight would he have to bear, abandoning those he had known for so long in the name of escaping himself?

Ingressus reached out a hand, resting it at the edge of the shadow like a skeleton unwilling to brave the light. Ailera saw the motion and looked over at him.

“Master Atanal knows about this place now,” Ingressus said. “It won’t be safe anymore. She’ll prioritize catching me, but she’ll want the rest of you too, for helping me. You’ll need to leave Ataraxia before she can turn her attention to you.” He faltered, the instincts of silence and secrets resisting what he was about to say. “Get to Nestoria. Tell the rest, too. You should be safer there, until I can sort this out.”

Ailera looked surprised, but nodded in acknowledgement. “Should we look for that Nestoris guy you’ve hung out with before?”

Ingressus nodded. “Achillean.” He would work as a point of contact. Ingressus had received messages from him on occasion when Aegus had been too busy with the affairs of his own clan.

Ailera nodded, looking reluctant. “I’ll let the others know when I see them.”

“Good luck,” Ingressus said. “And be careful.”

“I should be telling you that,” Ailera said. “Don’t get seen again, all right?”

Ailera left. Ingressus waited a few minutes, then crept out of the shed. He dropped from the island, hopping down step by step to the one below.

He would never have asked any of his friends to risk themselves for him. He would almost have preferred if they didn’t, but he had to admit that he had needed Ailera’s intervention in that last fight. He only wished he could do more in return than a vague direction and a possible place to hide.

Get away, he told himself. Run, survive, and end the war. That’s the best way you can help them. Put an end to this, for all of them.

It was what he had to do. And so he would, come Nether or Void. He would end this, even if it took his last breath.

Some people might’ve questioned what choices in their life had led to them sandwiching themselves between a bunch of gardening implements in their neighbor’s shed. Leah, on the other hand, figured that was a waste of energy. She knew how she had gotten here. She could do without the clods of dirt that kept falling on her head, though.

She shifted in her small hiding place, edging away from the offending shovel. Something creaked in the darkness next to her and she sighed, accepting the risk of a further dirt shower instead. She was pretty sure she and Saylor were on the visiting Master’s wanted list by now, so she figured a poorly-cleaned shovel was the least of her worries.

If I were an investigator whose evidence was stolen, what would I do? she wondered.

“Try to get it back” was the obvious answer. She could probably assume that once the Sendaris from the forge had lost them, he would start asking around. Meaning he would probably know her name by now. Leah knew that “Human woman causing trouble” was a description that tended to point her way in this town. She wasn’t a hundred percent sure how the whole jurisdiction thing would work, but she was pretty sure the visitors would be allowed to detain her for interfering with their search. So getting caught would be bad.

Leah leaned back against the wall, resting her head against the wood and staring at the lines of light shining around the door. Now that she’d had time to breathe the amount of trouble she was in had finally sunk in. Yes, she caused trouble on the regular, annoyed and inconvenienced people. She had even ended up in the jail for a day once when she’d gone too far. But this… oh, this was an actual crime.

Things in an inventory had no weight. Supposedly they existed in some kind of extra-dimensional space that didn’t technically require the person to “carry” them. She didn’t even have everything she’d grabbed, she’d passed half of it off to Saylor before splitting up. But the stuff she’d stolen still felt heavy just then, as though she was carrying a sack full of rocks instead of a pile of books and some magic cubes.

I did this for a good reason, she told herself. I’d do it again if I had to.

On the subject of doing things again, Leah knew that she couldn’t just spend the rest of her day impersonating a sack of bonemeal. Stealing Ingressus’s stuff was only half of the equation, the other half was helping him get out of here safely. But if she was going to be running around Ataraxia, she had to at least make sure she wouldn’t be found with said stuff on her.

Where to hide it, where to hide it…

Not in her house. If the soldiers knew her name they would search there sooner or later. Bury it somewhere? That would take time, time in which she could be spotted. She needed somewhere ready to receive stolen goods, somewhere that couldn’t be linked to her… ideally somewhere she could get them out of afterwards when this all blew over (and it would blow over).

She caught on an idea and scooted forward and crawled over to the door, nudging it open to peek outside. Seeing no one she eased the door open the rest of the way and snuck out, paused to brush the dirt from her hair, and hurried off.

The islands weren’t deserted. They never were, except in the depths of night or during particularly unpleasant weather. Leah passed by several people going about their business, carrying loads of one thing or another or ushering their kids along or trying to coax a pet back inside. And yet despite that she still swore she could feel them staring at her, watching her, knowing what she’d done. She knew it was probably just her mind and tried to shrug it off, but couldn’t help her nerves whenever she caught a passing glance.

Calm down, she told herself. Keep it together. Your friend needs you.

She kept those words up like a mantra as she navigated the islands, holding her slingshot in one hand and sending the fiercest looks she could at anyone who seemed to be paying her too much attention. Maybe if she faked it enough, she could banish the feelings of cowardice.

Ataraxia’s library was an impressive size for the small town. Between the traveling enchanters donating books and some generous benefactor from decades back, the wide cavern was full of books and shelves and reading nooks scattered across the walls. Some shelves were freestanding, others were fastened into the walls. A few tables filled the middle of the open space, currently occupied by a Kaltaris family and a quietly snoring Felina. A chair surrounded by cushions marked where Leah had been reading to the kids not so long ago, all their former occupants now dispersed with her disappearance.

There was one corner in the library where two shelves didn’t come together right. The front side– the important side, the side that held the books– met corner-to-corner, but there was an empty space between that corner and the stone wall that was overdramatically known as the pit. Try to set a book on top of the shelves there, and the book would fall into the pit and presumably never be seen again– realistically, you could get it back, but it would be a lot of work to empty out the shelves to be able to move them and you’d be grumbled at by the librarians the entire time.

It was to the pit that Leah went to when she entered the library, trying to both hurry and look inconspicuous at the same time. She grabbed a chair from a nearby table and used it to climb up to the pit opening, reaching an arm into the hole as far as she could before letting each book go. She wrapped her jacket around the unbound papers to keep them protected and gave them the same treatment, but paused when she got to the stolen Songs. She hesitated, seeing the weird blue-green shade of the first one in her mind’s eye inches from her metaphorical fingers.

Ardoni could hear Songs. Not like other species could, with that subtle little noise of magic they gave off, but with a different sense she couldn’t understand. If she dropped the Songs into the pit, would the soldiers be drawn to them despite the hiding place? How loud were they? Maybe it would be safer to keep them with her…

She heard a conversation from a few shelves over. Normal people at the library for normal things, unlike her. She couldn’t wait around for someone to walk in on her with her arm hanging down into the pit. She pulled her arm out and hopped down, ditching the chair at a random shelf. She’d have to keep them on her, then.

Part 2 of the plan: find Ingressus and get him his sword. Screw with Atanal’s people along the way. Hope and pray nothing goes wrong.

Leah hoped that thinking that last sentence wouldn’t come back to bite her as she emerged again into the afternoon sun. She hadn’t seen any strangers since splitting off from Saylor and escaping the one from the forge, but it was surely too much to hope that that would be the end of it. She had (or used to have) evidence they wanted, evidence for a problem they were taking very seriously. She was wanted now, and not in the warm and fuzzy way.

“Leah!”

Leah stopped at the sound of her name, heart rate spiking before she recognized the familiar voice from behind her. She turned to see Keleus hurrying towards her, no trace of the kindly old goof in his face.

“How important is this?” she asked urgently.

“Very,” Keleus replied. He lowered his voice as someone passed by. “I don’t know what happened, but Master Atanal’s soldiers are looking for you. They said you stole something?”

Leah hissed out a breath, gaze darting to a passing Nestoris who was paying her no mind. “I figured. One of them was raiding the forge, I stole all I could take of Ingressus’s stuff. Any chance they wouldn’t have the power to arrest me?”

Keleus’s wince told her all she needed to know. “Atanal could. Jurisdiction after the fact might be complicated, but if you’re actively interfering she could still arrest you to stop you. You’ll need to keep out of sight.”

“I’ll do my best,” Leah said. “Do they know who I am?”

Keleus ushered Leah aside, pulling her towards a nearby rose garden. Leah glanced behind her, fearing the worst, but only saw a few Ardoni, none strangers but still potential snitches. She brushed her hair over her face and ducked her head, hoping to hide herself. Keleus sat on a low bench as though in the middle of a casual get-together, even as his face belied his worry.

“They know you by name,” Keleus said quietly. “Master Atanal has been asking around about who might be helping Ingressus.”

Leah sat down as well, even as the urge to jump up and pace itched at her. “And people have been telling her?”

Keleus nodded sadly. “She’s respected among our clans. I don’t think many people have been seeking her out to report to her, but if she asks around people aren’t likely to lie.”

“And she has been.” Leah rubbed at her temples, wincing. First Dragon’s breath, she was in a lot of trouble.

“Is there anyone here that could stop her?” Leah asked, knowing as she spoke what a long shot it was.

Keleus shook his head. “No. I’ve heard Everin was looking to speak to her, and she likes Ingressus, but all she could do is talk Atanal down. Master Aegus is a friend of mine, he could help, but it’d take days for a message to get to him…”

One thing Leah missed about being a kid was the belief that the adults around you would always know what to do. That come storm or gale, crop failure or sickness or whatever other troubles, someone would know how to make it all turn out okay. But looking at Keleus now, Leah knew he had no more idea how to make this problem go away than she did. The only thing that was clear was that there would be no help coming. She, Ingressus, anyone else who was helping– they were on their own.

Leah rested her elbows on her knees, holding her head in her hands. “She wants him. That’s why she’s here, for Ingressus. I’m just an associate. He’s the one she’s here for. Can we hide him and make her think he’s left? Or fake his death somehow, is that even possible for your kind?”

Keleus absently traced a hand over his markings. “I’ve heard rumors that the Voltaris know a way. I don’t know how true they are.”

“She needs to give up somehow,” Leah pleaded of no one, staring at a nearby rosebush as though it would come to life and give her all the answers.

“I think all Ingressus can do is lose her soldiers in the mountains,” Keleus said. “But you and everyone else who’s interfered, you’ll need to lay low, too. She won’t want to leave empty-handed.”

Leah looked up at the elder. “What about Galleous? Did she really arrest him?”

Keleus nodded sadly. “People are saying she plans to take him back to Sendaria to face trial when this is done.”

Leah wanted to bonk her head on something until the problem fixed itself. Sadly, that would only give her a concussion, and a concussion wasn’t a solution. “What do we do…”

“I should tell you to hide and keep your head down,” Keleus told her, a suggestion that Leah automatically resisted. The idea of standing down and hiding away while her friend was running for his life rankled her.

“I have his sword,” Leah said. “I need to get it to him.”

Keleus nodded, looking unsurprised at her immediate refusal. “Then if you were planning to catch him at a bridge, don’t. Apparently he has a secret Mobilium Song, and hasn’t needed them.”

Mobilium… motion. Yellow, like Saylor’s.

“Any chance he’d have that flying one?” she asked.

“I doubt it,” Keleus replied. “He’d be long gone already if he did.”

Leah wouldn’t have blamed him. She’d have done the same in his place.

“Okay.” She pressed her hands to her knees, ready to rise and move on. “Any rumors about where he is?”

“Too many,” Keleus admitted. “But I would try down and west from the market. I heard of a scuffle from that direction.”

Leah stood up and Keleus did as well, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Good luck. And be careful. I’ll keep an ear out for anything else I can learn.”

“I’m always careful,” Leah replied flippantly.

A flicker of a smile crossed Keleus’s face at that. “I’m sure you are.”

Time was passing. Galleous could see the shadows lengthening in the valley below, and if he stood at the very edge of the cell he could make out the clock in the guard’s room. Atanal had left some time ago, after Galleous had sat down on the bed and refused to answer her questions further. And since she had left, nothing more had happened. No word from outside, no one else coming to question him. Just himself, and the four walls, and the afternoon wearing on outside the window.

No news was good news in this case, he knew that. Things wouldn’t remain unchanging if Ingressus was caught, because of one thing: Voltar. Ingressus hadn’t let the Master staff out of his sight since the Guardians had returned it to him. He didn’t carry it in plain view, so as not to raise questions, but he always had it either in his inventory or within arm’s reach, which was why Atanal hadn’t found it yet. If she had caught Ingressus and taken the staff off him, Galleous knew that he would have plenty to answer for about his dealings with the master of the Voltaris. The fact that Atanal hadn’t returned demanding answers meant that she didn’t realize there were questions she had yet to ask.

It was right when Galleous was reassuring himself of this that he heard someone approaching. He looked up and saw one of Atanal’s soldiers marching Saylor in. The soldier pushed Saylor into the cell opposite Galleous, then locked the door and left without a word. Saylor watched him go, then sat down on the cell’s mattress with a sigh.

He looked up, catching sight of Galleous. “Hi, Galleous.”

“Saylor,” Galleous said. He wrapped a hand around the bars. “Are you all right? What’s happening?”

“I’m okay,” Saylor replied. “Leah and I broke into the forge to steal Ingressus’s Song research back. We got away, but I got caught after we split up. They took my half.”

Galleous leaned his head against the bars. “Blast it,” he muttered. Well, if nothing else maybe it would at least distract them…

He looked up again. “What about Ingressus?”

Saylor shook his head. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since this started. I think Keperin is the only one who has.”

Galleous’s face must’ve betrayed his worry, because Saylor went on. “The one who caught me was asking me where he would be. So I don’t think they’ve found him yet.”

Galleous let out a sigh of relief. Though it was nothing he hadn’t guessed at, (rather, hoped desperately for), hearing it confirmed even partially by another eased the worry somewhat.

“Atanal was asking me about you,” he said in return. He thought back to a question that had been nagging at him. “Did Leah really climb down the side of the island to break into my forge?”

Saylor snorted. “No. I took her across on my Song. For the record: her idea, not mine.”

Galleous chuckled. “I don’t doubt that.”

They lapsed into silence. A breeze outside whistled across the stone of the island, fading out and re-appearing again.

“My parents are gonna kill me.”

Galleous looked back at the sound of the mumbled sentence. Saylor was sitting on the cell’s mattress, arms wrapped around his knees and his ears drooping. He stared at the graffitied wall opposite him, clearly not taking in any of it.

“Call it a debt,” Galleous told him. “You’ve fought together enough that you can probably find something to owe him for.”

Saylor looked up at him, surprised. Maybe he hadn’t meant to speak aloud, maybe he hadn’t expected a response.

“Your parents know he’s your friend, they have for years,” Galleous went on. “If they can deal with that, then they can respect this.”

“Yeah, but… I haven’t exactly gotten arrested for him before this,” Saylor pointed out.

Galleous rested his hand on the bars. You were faithful to your friend,” he said. “You saw something wrong, and you refused to let it stand. If it were anyone else, your parents would accept that, even if it did land you here.”

Saylor looked away, the words washing over him. “Yeah, but…”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t– you’ve got other things to worry about than me.”

Galleous wasn’t sure if he would prefer worrying over this conversation. At least comforting Saylor was something he could actually do anything about.

“You tried to help him,” Galleous said. “I shouldn’t be glad it landed you here, but I’m grateful you tried.”

Saylor nodded. “Yeah, well– he’s earned it.”

Galleous smiled faintly. Ingressus and Saylor hadn’t always been friends, he knew. While Saylor had hardly been the most hostile, he hadn’t reacted with much friendliness to the sight of red markings, either. It was only after their midnight cave adventure that their interactions had faded to respect, neutrality, and then slowly grown into real friendship.

How things can change, Galleous thought.

Saylor had loosened up from his huddled stance, and now he stood and stared out the window of his cell. He leaned from side to side, trying to see a greater angle.

“Do you see anything?” Galleous asked. His own cell faced away from the rest of town, leaving him with only a view of the valley to the east.

“No…” Saylor stood on his toes, peering down as much as he could. “All seems normal out—” He cut off.

“What?!” Galeous asked breathlessly, his grip tightening on the bars.

“I… I’m not sure,” Saylor replied, leaning closer to the bars. “I thought I saw something between the islands, but it’s gone now. It looked yellow, maybe Mobilium?”

Galleous felt himself relax slightly at the words. Could it be that Ingressus was fleeing with his Song? If there was ever a moment to disregard the secrecy of it, it would be now. Maybe that was what Saylor had seen. As limited by necessity as Ingressus’s practice had been, he had still taken to his Mobilibounce faster than any other student of Galleous’s had. He hoped that was truly what Saylor had seen.

Run, my boy, Galleous thought. And may the gods guide you to safety.

It was Leah’s own foolish mistake. No one else’s, just hers alone. With Keleus mentioning that Atanal was asking around about her, she had somehow forgotten to worry that any of the other guards might be doing the same. With her eyes open for an unfamiliar, probably-elderly Sendaris woman, she didn’t register the younger, more familiar Sendaris until he’d already seen her.

The soldier strode towards her. Leah backpedaled, ducked around a bush, and ended up face-to-face with the soldier who’d done the same.

Leah flung up her hands. “I didn’t do it! I’m innocent!”

The soldier merely raised a brow eloquently. Leah sighed and dropped her hands again. “Worth a try.”

“Not particularly,” the soldier observed.

“Agree to disagree.” Leah looked up at the Ardoni, wondering if there was any chance of talking her way out of this. Probably not.

“Well, you found me,” she said, spreading her hands in a half-shrug. “So now what?”

“Now you hand over everything you stole,” the Ardoni said. “And you tell me what you know about your Voltaris friend.”

“Who said he’s my friend?” Leah asked. “Maybe I wanted it for myself. I’ve always wanted a fire sword.”

“Yet you’d have no need to hoard knowledge of Song magic for yourself,” the Ardoni pointed out. “I know of your friendship with him: your shared gatherings, the trouble you get into, the gunpowder and other monster parts he supplies you for your tricks.”

“Let’s be fair: I buy it from him like everyone else. I’m not getting any special treatment.”

“I’ve also been made aware of your penchant for causing trouble,” the soldier said, ignoring the semantics. “From your neighbors’ accounts, it seems safe to assume you’re the ringleader of this band of child menaces as well.”

“What can I say? I’m a bad influence.”

Neither of the two had moved, but Leah still had the impression of them circling each other. They were each scoping the other out, trading words back and forth to test the other’s composure. For all her nonchalant act, Leah knew this was no common argument or casual battle of wits. Something would give, someone’s patience would run out.

Could she outrun him? Maybe. Outfight him, she was gonna go ahead and say no on that one. Distract him and buy herself time to outrun him? Now that might have a chance.

“Indeed you are,” the Ardoni agreed, hopefully oblivious to Leah silently taking stock of her inventory. “But the game is over. Make this easier on both of us, and hand over the evidence.”

Leah shook her head. “I don’t have it.”

“Then take me to where it is.”

“What if I don’t?”

“You’re already an accomplice,” the soldier pointed out. “Do you really want to make yourself more of one?”

“Maybe I don’t care.”

“I think you do.”

Dangit. Could he read her that easily? Was that ignored part of her that whispered second thoughts so obvious? She shoved it down, imagined burying it under a pile of sand in her mind.

“This can be over,” the soldier said gently, speaking into the silence of her hesitation. “Just take me to where you hid the stash.”

She couldn’t. She wouldn’t. She would decide that here and now, no matter what that traitorous cowardly part of her whispered in her mind’s ear. But maybe… maybe the cowardice he saw could be her way out of this.

Leah dropped her gaze. “It’s buried in my garden.”

The soldier stepped aside, gesturing with his hand. “Lead the way.”

Out of spite, Leah walked past him on the side he’d stepped towards.

The soldier walked behind and to the side of Leah as she led the way to nowhere in particular, enough that she could just see the blue in her peripheral vision. She could feel him watching her, no doubt expecting her to bolt at the first chance. She supposed she couldn’t fault him for that, given that he wasn’t wrong.

They reached the market. Leah strode down the main path, then turned and aimed for a space between the stalls.

“Where are you going?” the soldier asked suspiciously.

“Shortcut,” Leah replied.

“I don’t think s—”

He grabbed hold of her shoulder to pull her back. Leah turned as though to shove his hand away, then brought her other hand up. Icing and pastry squished between her fingers as she grabbed a cake from the stall and flung it at her captor’s face. His arm shot up to defend himself and Leah darted between the stalls and into the grassy space behind the market. She vaulted over someone’s barrel of stock, leaving a frosted handprint that in retrospect probably was bad but no time to clean it off so she’d just have to hope it wouldn’t matter. She looked back over her shoulder and saw nothing, looked forward again and something collided with her. Leah staggered and something grabbed on to her and when the world was still again there were blue-and-gray arms wrapped around her and holding her wrists in place.

“You,” the soldier said with an aggrieved sigh, “Are very annoying.”

“I do my best,” Leah replied.

She stomped down hard at his foot, hoping to crush the Ardoni’s bare foot under her shoe. But her heel glanced off something that was decidedly not soft flesh, and she looked down to see blue shards of light fading away.

“Come on,” she muttered. Blue was the protective set of Songs, she knew that much. Clearly she had achieved nothing.

“Indeed,” the soldier said. Leah thrashed as he started dragging her off. “You can calm down in prison.”

Leah shouted curses at the top of her lungs as the soldier pulled her through the market, fighting him at every step. Her hands were securely pinned but she kicked out, scoring one solid hit on the soldier’s shin that made him grunt in pain but didn’t break his hold on her. The people in the market backed away from the scuffle, clearly reluctant to get caught in the crossfire of her ferocity. But she saw a blur of purple running forward, and her struggles faltered as Keperin yelled out a determined “stop!” Leah felt the soldier’s head whip around but Keperin had already grabbed onto his arm and put all his weight into a solid yank. Leah threw herself forward as well and managed to duck out of the soldier’s hold, and without wasting a beat she grabbed Keperin and ran.

She already knew they couldn’t run forever. They couldn’t even run for long; the Sendaris was taller than her, with a longer stride, and so a profoundly unfair advantage in running speed. The sachet of paint she’d chucked behind her would only buy a few seconds at most. Her jokes about learning to brew potions had only ever been jokes, but Leah really wouldn’t have minded a good swiftness potion about now.

She hurried Keperin across a bridge, the planks shaking wildly beneath their pounding feet. But at the end of the bridge she stopped and spun around, Ingressus’s sword in hand. The blade flashed down and Leah staggered from the momentum of the swing– nether, that had cut through the handrail like it was nothing, it was a miracle she hadn’t cut the ropes for the floor too— But the Sendaris didn’t need to know that.

Leah raised the sword high over the opposite side of the bridge, locking eyes with the soldier who’d stopped in his tracks. “I’ll do it! I’m crazy!”

“She is!” Keperin called helpfully.

“Leah, don’t!” Someone else yelled in a panic. Leah ignored them, focused only on staring down the one opposite her. The Sendaris stood in the middle of the bridge, unmoving but for the motion of him catching his breath from the chase. Leah noted with satisfaction that scraps of white icing still dotted his hair. One hand was gripping the remaining handrail, the only thing left for him to hold on to as the other rope swung lazily in the open air. Unless he could fly, the bridge was all that was standing between him and a long, painful drop and a very abrupt end. The soldier didn’t move to advance or retreat, didn’t look away from Leah as the suspense shrouded them. Wondering whether to call her bluff, probably. Leah didn’t look away either. One of them had to back down, and it couldn’t be her.

The soldier still wasn’t moving. Leah lifted the blade higher, how did she– yes, like that. The sword caught fire with a whoosh, its heat radiating over her hands. The soldier’s gaze flickered up to the fiery blade, and Leah hoped she either looked cool or looked demented enough to scare him off. She’d take either one.

The soldier met her gaze again, then looked down at the end of the bridge she guarded. He glanced at the severed railing, swaying in the breeze where it hung limp and useless in the open air. His eyes met hers again and slowly, after a long moment, he stepped back.

Leah almost lowered the sword, but remembered not to. She watched as step by reluctant step, the Sendaris retreated until he stood on solid ground once more. He didn’t look away from the two as he drew out a horn and lifted it to his mouth, sending two short notes ringing out between the islands. Leah stared at him cautiously, unsure of what to do, but the soldier just lowered the horn and gave her a last expressionless look before walking off.

“What was that?” Keperin asked nervously.

Leah lowered the sword, taking a moment to extinguish the flames before speaking. “I think he was calling his friends. I heard the sound of one earlier.” That one had been long and unbroken, filling the air like an ominous rumble of thunder.

Keperin glanced around. “So should we… you know, move, then?”

That was a good point. Leah nodded. “Yeah, let's.”

She spotted the bystander who’d yelled before, a Nestoris with his son who was staring at her in shock and some amount of fear. Further to his left was a Felina who was eyeing her warily with his ears tilted back. Leah swept a pointed finger between them.

“You all,” she said, in as commanding a voice as she could muster. “You had better not be helping them. Or there’ll be nether to pay.”

The order probably wouldn’t land. But it had felt good to give.

“I don’t know if this is working,” Keperin told her as they fled the island. “I’ve heard some of them talking and I think they saw Ingressus– I think there was a fight. They don’t have him from what they said, but distracting them didn’t work.”

“Curse it,” Leah muttered. “We need—”

Whatever she might’ve said was cut off as the sound of a horn echoed across the islands, long, low, and unbroken like ominous thunder. Leah’s pace faltered and Keperin skidded to a stop on the path ahead, staring back at her. The noise faded but the echoes still reverberated in the air that was now charged with tension. Leah and Keperin looked at each other, both knowing what that meant.

Keperin pointed. “That way. I think.”

As good a direction as any. Leah bolted off.

Down. Downwards, ever downwards. You got used to the height of Ataraxia, either that or you found somewhere else to live. But Ingressus was close now, so close, just one more island below him and then he would be free…

He was running to a bridge when it happened. A flash of yellow, a blur of movement, and then an impact in his gut that drove the air from his lungs. A blur of motion as he was yanked from his feet, carried too far, and then an impact with solid ground that rattled his bones. He wheezed, gasping for the air he’d lost, scrabbling at the dirt in a futile attempt to rise before a heavy weight pressed him down again. His trident arm was pinned down and he clawed at the first with his free arm, seeking purchase against the ground to drag himself free as the sound of a horn echoed across the islands like a wolf calling its pack for the kill.

“You have him?” came a voice from the direction of the bridge.

“Yep,” said Ingressus’s captor, her knee in his back. “Finally.”

Ingressus saw a dull blue Sendaris approach from the corner of his eye, apparently the one who’d first hit him. Ingressus didn’t have the mental energy to figure out where he’d come from, too much of his mind still fixated on getting air into his lungs. It was a well-aimed strike, he had to give the Sendaris that– aimed at the precise location that would force all the breath from the victim. He was skilled, clearly experienced, and that meant he was dangerous.

The first soldier was holding something Ingressus couldn’t make out in his hand. “Then let’s tie him up and let’s be done with this.”

One hand was free. The Sendaris on top of him reached for it and Ingressus did the only thing he could think of and yanked it away from her grasp, crooking it beneath his head. The Sendaris made a sound of annoyance and reached for his arm again, and when she was within range Ingressus bit.

He tasted blood. He heard a startled, angry curse, felt the soldier’s weight shift and he dug his foot into the ground, pressed up against the dirt he lay on, anything to move and not let the soldier regain her balance. His Song flashed yellow beneath him and the energy flung him up and back, slamming him into his captor. Pain shot through him anew and the wind was knocked out of him again but he scrambled to keep moving, if you’re disadvantaged, get them off balance and keep them there, force them to react and they’ll be on the defensive.

There was a shout of anger as the second soldier ran in, weapon flashing in the sun and Ingressus lunged out from under his captor. Her hand seized his leg and he twisted free.

The motion had consequences. Black spots danced across his vision from the lack of air, his head spun as he tried to rise past his knees. He lashed out with the trident and saw blue recoil from the strike, saw yellow light swirl into existence and launch into the air. His vision cleared as he gulped in air, just in time to see the Mobilium-wielding soldier swoop down at him from above.

Wings. First Dragon’s blood, he has wings.

Ingressus lunged aside as the flier’s sword slashed through the air. He managed to rise to his feet, hunched over from the pain and lingering unsteadiness, but he held the trident before him in a ready position, primed to strike or defend. But the flier didn’t make a second pass, instead hovering above the edge of the island with his sword drawn. The other soldier, the one who’d pinned him, had a bow at full draw aimed at him. At this range, the arrow could pierce him through.

“Give it up,” the flier called, confidence ringing through his voice. “You’re outnumbered and surrounded, you’re not going anywhere.”

“One move and you won’t have a choice,” the archer warned. Blood oozed slowly from the bite mark on her draw hand.

Ingressus didn’t respond, didn’t move. His gaze darted between them, hoping to pass off his stalling as hesitation. The burning in his lungs lessened with each panted breath but his middle still ached where the blow had struck him. Pain bloomed across his back from where his Song’s throw had driven the archer’s knee into his back. He would be a mess of bruises tomorrow– assuming there will even be a tomorrow, a traitorous part of him whispered.

No. He would not die here. Not like this, not while his clan still needed him. If the gods wanted him, they would have to wait a while longer.

He was outnumbered. He would soon be surrounded. The archer’s bow was drawn, the flier’s sword primed to strike and taste his blood. He was in no shape to take on both, but…

He darted at the archer, trident already spinning to bat the arrow from the air. She moved to evade, her hand was already grabbing for another arrow but Ingressus changed course in an instant, leaping in a swirl of yellow past the startled flier’s lunge and off the edge of the island.

Terbin hesitated only long enough to throw a bandage around her hand after the Voltaris jumped. The Voltaris bit hard, thankfully it was only on her draw hand so she could still hold her bow, but the wound still burned even beneath the wrap as she stood at the edge of the island, searching for a clear shot.

She could see barely anything of what was happening below. The Voltaris was keeping to the side of the island, repeatedly frustrating Nihonus’s attempts to drive him into the open. There was a rare flicker of red, clashing with blue and surrounded by swirls of yellow, the crimson gone again before she could aim her bow. Maybe he hadn’t been as desperate as he seemed, to leap from the island even knowing Nihonus could simply follow him. Maybe it had been a gamble, to reduce his adversaries from two to one. Clever of him, Terbin admitted grudgingly.

But it wouldn’t last. Terbin lowered her bow and hurried for a bridge, readying the weapon again as she reached her new vantage point. Nihonus was harrying the Voltaris, sword clashing against the Voltaris’s stolen trident. Terbin nocked an arrow, watching the midair clash with the bow at half-draw as she waited for a good shot. She had to watch the Voltaris’s movements, predict them…

The bridge shook, and something grabbed on to her. She stumbled at the sudden weight on her back, losing her grip on the bowstring and sending the half-drawn arrow jumping pathetically into nothingness. Her attacker scrabbled to cling on to her and Terbin swung her bow back, smacking the whoever-it-was and eliciting a yelp of pain. Terbin slung them off her back but then froze, suddenly grateful her bow didn’t have sharpened tips as she stared at the child clinging to the railing before her.

“Are you kidding m—”

Her query went unfinished as the white-striped kid grabbed her hand and dug his finger into the pressure point by her thumb. Pain shot through her hand and her grip loosened, and the kid pulled free, hands curling into fists as he glared up at her.

“Leave him alone,” the kid ordered.

One of the Voltaris’s little gang, Terbin realized, annoyed that the kid hadn’t picked any other moment to try and tackle her. She did not have the time to drag this kid to some local adult to deal with.

She didn’t know what drew her attention back. Maybe it was a flare of Song-light, maybe a distant cry, maybe a flash of a blade, and she turned and saw a sight she dreaded. Nihonus falling, limp with no wings in sight. No Mobiliwings, not even a flicker of yellow. Just falling through the air, down, down, a scrap of sky falling to earth.

Terbin didn’t think. She didn’t have to. Her bow was in her hand, an arrow already flying from the string at the blood-striped Voltaris recovering from his own fall. A second arrow drew back and then—

She thought the bowstring snapped. The limb of the bow jerked in her grip, the recoil almost hitting her in the face. The string slipped through her fingers, all tension gone, and the arrow fell uselessly at the planks at her feet. It was only then that she felt the pain in her side, felt the warmth trickling over her skin.

Terbin’s gaze turned to the clanless boy. He backed away from her, eyes wide, hands tight around the sword he held. It was a short blade, simple stone, a smear of blood at the tip. It was little more than a simple child’s toy, but it was sharp enough to break skin and sever the string. The boy seemed shocked by this revelation, clearly unprepared for the reality of bloodshed he’d entered into. He took another step back, glanced past the railing, and fled.

As expected, the flier had followed Ingressus over the side. His sword slashed at Ingressus and Ingressus turned it aside with the trident, dropped, and turned to face his opponent again. The Sendaris wheeled around and darted at him once more, skimming the island face. Ingressus held the trident up in defense, leaping from his Song and pushing up against the blow with all his might to try to force the flier against the stone above. His aching gut protested the strain but he ignored it and felt the jolt of an impact, a slight one, before the Sendaris was past him again. Ingressus landed on a fresh Mobilium platform, a hand darting to his middle before he forced it away again. Pain came second to surviving, and it wouldn’t do to show a weakness.

He turned to face the soldier again. The Sendaris was hovering in the air, one leg bent awkwardly as though to keep his weight off it. Ingressus could see a smear of blood on his ankle, clearly the point of impact with the stone. Shame it hadn’t been anywhere more painful.

The soldier readied his blade again, and Ingressus drew the trident back. This was already taking too long. He had hoped he could outrun the soldier to a balcony and lose him through whatever cave it connected to, or in desperation race him to the ground where he could flee under the trees. But Mobiliwings were fast, faster than Ingressus could be, and they were one of only two other Songs that could overcome Ataraxia’s terrain. Running wouldn’t work here. All that was left was to fight back.

The soldier charged. Ingressus lunged at him with the trident, forcing him to veer off to dodge. Ingressus leaped, up, over, after him and collided with the soldier in midair. 

Flight turned into a fall in an instant. The soldier cursed in surprise and anger as Ingressus grabbed hold of him, wincing at the impact but keeping his hold. The soldier kicked at him and he summoned his knife and slashed across, a long cut that would bleed freely, and then his grip was lost. He flailed in the air and called out for his Song, clipped the edge of a platform, and crashed down on a plane of light. He scrambled up, gaze falling on the hovering soldier. Red blood was already leaking around the arm the Sendaris had pressed over his stomach, his face twisted in pain.

The strike had been meant to ground him. To bleed freely enough that he would be forced to land to treat the wound before blood loss took its toll. But it clearly wasn’t to be immediate. The soldier’s gaze flickered up to something above them, and then he readied his sword and shot at Ingressus, a mad, furious charge. Ingressus ran forward, leaped, and kicked up his feet. Yellow light swirled around him and for a split second the soldier’s eyes widened, realizing the imminent doom. A vertical Mobilibounce platform materialized between them, and the Sendaris collided head-on with solid light.

Once again Ingressus found himself flailing in midair, his balance sacrificed by the maneuver that saved his life. He twisted in the air and landed hard, his gaze catching on the scrap of blue plunging to the ground below him, limp, wingless, all noticed in the split second he had to look but seared into his eye like an afterimage. He ran for the nearest island, desperate for a cave to shelter in. Something seared across his leg and he fell, scrambled up, and ran again, he could still move, could still run, and he prayed to the benevolent deities that it would stay that way as he dared a glance back, saw nothing, and then he was clambering over a railing into the temporary safety of a balcony. The two Mendoris who had been there scrambled out of his way and Ingressus lunged past them behind the cover of the solid cave walls.

He came to a stop in what was apparently a bedroom, leaning against the wall as he tried to keep the weight off his wounded leg. A thin red line was visible across the back of his shin, likely a graze from an arrow. There was a set of cuts on his arm, too, probably from the flier’s sword.

The image of the flier’s now-flightless falling body flashed in Ingressus’s head, falling limp as death through the air. He would’ve hit the ground by now. The odds of him regaining consciousness and lucidity in time to save himself was minimal. Surviving the fall even less so. Ingressus had defended himself, that was all– but in the process he might’ve killed one of Atanal’s soldiers.

Ingressus pressed a damp cloth over his wound, gritting his teeth against the sting of the disinfectant. Songs, what had he done? Had he ruined his chance of negotiation so soon? Could this ever be salvaged at all?

A movement to the right made his head snap up. A Mendoris from the balcony had entered cautiously, eyeing Ingressus as though he were approaching a growling bear. He stopped as Ingressus met his gaze, a nervous expression on his face.

Ingressus ignored him. He didn’t have the time to waste letting this Ardoni decide what he wanted to do. He slapped the now-bloodied rag over the cut on his arm and reached down to bandage his leg.

“Were you trying to kill him?” the Mendoris asked hesitantly.

Ingressus’s hand twitched, involuntarily tying the bandage tighter than necessary. “Is he dead?”

“I…” The Mendoris hesitated again. “I don’t think… with how far he fell…”

Ingressus grit his teeth as he finished tying off the bandage. That answer was no surprise, but it was too late now for it to matter. He couldn’t have caught the Sendaris then if he’d tried. And running for your life was no time to be distracted by what he couldn’t change, especially now, especially with the rest of Atanal’s soldiers wanting his head even more. He pushed the turmoil down and sealed it under ice in his mind, resolving to deal with it when he was safe.

The other Mendoris came up behind the first. “Someone just ran to get him, they—”

He cut himself off at the sight of Ingressus. Clearly he hadn’t expected him to have lingered.

“Who did?” Ingressus asked.

“Wh– what do you mean?”

“You said someone ran to find him. Who?”

“L–Lyris,” The Mendoris said hesitantly. He quickly rambled on. “And a guard ran after her, so don’t chase them down there.”

The words might’ve been a warning, but Ingressus knew they weren’t. Over the many years he had learned to read the looks Ardoni would give him, learned to discern the difference between disdain and wariness and hostility to know how or whether to interact with someone. These Mendoris were worried, but it wasn’t for him. The first one had his arm slightly raised in front of him as though in defense, the second had his weight shifted back in the sign of someone who wanted to keep their distance without being obvious. They feared he would snap, that his control of his Voltaris bloodlust would run out and that its long repression would be paid for in blood. They feared it already had, that with one person dead the dominos would continue to fall.

This was the day they had all feared, Ingressus realized. The day that had been warned about by those who had never trusted him and never would, the day the dark nature revealed by his crimson markings would no longer be held back. The death of a single soldier had validated all of their fears at once.

A laugh, silent and bitter, sounded in Ingressus’s head. All his hopes of proving his clan’s innocence to the others, and now when the stakes were highest here he was, showing the exact opposite of what he needed them to believe.

The first Mendoris spoke up again. “Were you trying to—”

“No,” Ingressus said. “I was trying to live.”

Neither questioned him further. Ingressus prodded gingerly at where the Sendaris had struck him, feeling the pain bloom under his own touch. No broken ribs, there was at least that blessing. It was tender, but there was nothing he could do about that here. He would just have to bear it.

“Where is he!”

Ingressus’s head jerked up at the shout from outside. The words were distant, distorted and muffled by the cave walls between them but the archer’s furious voice was recognizable enough. How could he have forgotten that he didn’t have time to wait and rest and talk?

His gaze fell back to the two Mendoris. The second had stiffened, and he tore his gaze away from the entrance to stare at Ingressus, purple eyes wide. The first looked between Ingressus and the entrance, then came to a decision.

“Wait here,” he said. “I’ll lead her away, then you run.”

“Kalais—!” his companion protested. He reached out as though to pull him back, but Kalais pulled away.

“You can either stay back, or turn me in, too,” he said, and left.

The Mendoris wavered, glancing at Ingressus again. Ingressus left his place by the wall and walked past him, seeing the Mendoris back away. He lingered behind a curve in the wall, an eye on the cowering Mendoris and his ear pricked for the voices outside. He could hear Kalais speaking rapidly, the archer’s voice interspersed. He gripped the trident, ready to stab if the soldier appeared, Kalais could just as easily be turning him in, why had he let him leave—

But the voices didn’t approach. Instead he heard them fade. He dared a glance outside and saw that, indeed, the blue and purple markings were moving off, gone moments later.

Well. Perhaps Kalais hadn’t sold him out after all. Ingressus was taken aback for a moment by his own disproven paranoia; how long had it been since he had truly expected the worst from the Ardoni around him, at least to this extent? How long since he had last felt that he would need to snatch his life out of their hands in order to survive?

But there was no time for this. He looked back at the remaining Mendoris, still standing soundlessly by the wall. 

“Don’t breathe a word of this,” he warned. “Otherwise your friend will pay the price, too.”

The Mendoris nodded quickly– from the look on his face, he’d probably taken it as a threat. Ingressus sighed inwardly but didn’t bother to clarify it. He crept to the doorway, took a careful glance to make sure the soldier was truly gone, and slipped away.

It was never going to be an easy escape anymore. He had been stalled for too long by the archer and the flier, giving the other soldiers time to converge. He saw blue everywhere as he crept through the island’s scant cover– in the sky, a windchime, a painted birdhouse, in an Ataraxian Sendaris who turned away at the sight of him. The soldiers had to be near, circling, searching for him but if he could just get past their cordon that meant the rest of Ataraxia would be clearer.

Ingressus tried to calculate a strategy. The Sendaris would patrol the islands surrounding where the flier had fallen, and they would know to watch the skies now, even if they might still be unaccustomed to it. They would be thorough in their search of the islands, leaving no stone unturned, but he knew they were also limited in manpower, especially now because he’d killed their friend, meaning their net would be spread thin and full of holes. The nearest bridge away from the site of the midair skirmish was on the island to the east, or if he was willing to risk being seen from below he could flee through the air to the south. Yes, that sounded better.

He was about to dart across the path towards his chosen escape when he caught sight of someone hurrying across the eastern bridge. Ingressus ducked behind the boulder he’d been using as cover, but realized as he did that the newcomer was Human. He peeked over the stone again and spotted Leah catching her breath and looking around, a familiar hilt emerging from behind her shoulder. She spotted him and hurried over to duck behind the boulder with him.

“You’re okay,” she breathed as a greeting. Her eyes flickered down to the bandages on his arm. “You are okay, right?”

“I’ll manage,” Ingressus whispered back. He saw a red mark on her arm, not from paint but clearly from an iron grip. “You?”

“‘M fine,” Leah replied. “Here. Sword.”

She pulled the weapon from her back and handed it to him. Ingressus gave a sigh of relief as he took it, comforted by the weight of the blade and the feel of the well-worn hilt in his grip. He hadn’t considered how close he’d come to losing it forever.

“You really raided the forge?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah. Stole what I could carry of your research. Saylor has some of it, I hid my half. I’ve got your weird Songs too, not sure what I should do with those.”

“Were you seen?” Ingressus asked worriedly.

“Oh yeah, totally.”

Leah’s voice was the false kind of nonchalant, spoken offhand in the attempt to convince herself. But she breezed on before Ingressus could say anything. “I lost the one who was chasing us a while back, threatened to cut the bridge from under him. Haven’t seen him since. Keperin and I heard the horn from earlier, we thought it meant they had you.”

“They did, for a while,” Ingressus said. “I think– I think I killed one of them.”

It felt all the more irreversible speaking it aloud, as though by voicing it he was cementing the ugly truth into existence. As though the flier’s downward plummet had been held in stasis, suspended at the last moment before the fatal impact as long as he just didn’t acknowledge it, as though now that he had spoken he had given the universe permission to make it real and turn his markings from blue to deep, deep black.

“Well,” Leah said, speaking into the oppressive silence. “That’s… not good.”

Ingressus didn’t look at her. “I know.”

He didn’t want to see her reaction. Didn’t want to see in her eyes whether death was the act that couldn’t be overlooked in this place, this safe place where its premature arrival was so foreign. He peeked over the boulder as a plausible excuse, and met the surprised blue eyes of a soldier midway through creeping up on them.

Ingressus was already moving before the soldier could process him. He lunged over the boulder to the sound of Leah’s startled cry, his sword already blazing as he struck at the backpedaling Sendaris. His blade bit into the wood of the soldier’s raised guard staff. The soldier angled the weapon and twisted and sent Ingressus shooting past him. Ingressus spun and saw the soldier with his staff extended, Protepoint flickering around his arm and a horn in his other hand.

Ingressus couldn’t let him use it. Couldn’t let him call the rest in. He ran forward again, intent on ending this quickly. His blade stabbed forward, the soldier caught it between his staff’s blades, but then he staggered back. Leah was gripping the ends of a slimy rope she’d somehow managed to wrap around his wrist, and was holding the horn back with all her strength.

“Forgot about me, didja?” she grit out.

Ingressus felt a rush of relief at her help. The soldier’s gaze flickered between them, his predicament realized. One arm as good as bound, the other holding off Ingressus’s blade. But then determination flared in his face, and as he opened his mouth Ingressus knew what was coming.

Ingressus let go. His sword flickered through his inventory in an instant, right hand to left and freeing itself from the soldier’s lock. The soldier screamed a wordless call into the air and Ingressus ducked inside his reach and slammed the pommel into his enemy’s jaw.

The shout was cut off, but it was too late. Leah yanked back on the rope and Ingressus slammed the pommel into the off-balance soldier’s head again, and the soldier collapsed.

The voice of long-gone training urged Ingressus to take this chance to finish him. To silence him permanently with a single sweep of his blade and eliminate any future threat. He turned his gaze to Leah instead, uttering a single word.

“Run.”

He turned and fled, feeling Leah tearing after him. They crossed the bridge to be promptly greeted by another enemy.

“Sword,” Leah said, something white in her hands. “I need fire.”

In any other circumstances, Ingressus would’ve questioned Leah more. But this time he just held out his blade. Leah ignited something on the flames and threw them, one, two, and Ingressus just had time to realize those are fireworks and register the soldier diving for cover as Leah yanked him behind a house. Two earsplitting booms rocked the air one after the other as the colorful explosives detonated, sending vibrant sparks scattering across the ground as the two fugitives fled the scene.

Ingressus glanced back to see a smoldering tree and the soldier staggering to his feet, one hand still clamped over his ear. Ingressus’s hopes that they wouldn’t be seen were for naught as the soldier’s gaze landed on them. Red light flared around the soldier as he raised his sword high.

That stance meant one of two things. They were too far away for Aggrostorm, so it had to be Aggroshard.

The bridge he and Leah were on sloped upwards slightly. Ingressus called his Song and lunged forward, half-dragging, half-tackling her to the ground on the other side. Harsh red static filled his mind and he summoned his Song again behind them, hunched over Leah and praying the platform could block the shards as wood splintered and stone cracked under the volley.

Mobilibounce wasn’t meant for continuous use. That was one trait it didn’t share with Protiseum. The impromptu shield vanished and its energy release kicked him off of Leah, sending him tumbling across the ground. He came to a stop several yards away, groaning as his entire body seemed to protest its abuse, bruises old and new crying out in a many-tuned chorus of pain.

He managed to roll to his side and then to a half-rise, the pain in his gut screaming that he couldn’t ignore it forever.  The Aggroshards were gone, the volley over, and he could see Leah on her feet, unhurt, yelling something threatening at the soldier and apparently ready to hurl something at him.

Ingressus grit his teeth and forced himself to rise. Someone ran at him, and Ingressus tensed before realizing they were small and white instead of blue.

“Are you okay?” Volerik gasped, helping him to stand. “Oh no, you’re hurt!”

“Get out of here,” Ingressus told him. “Don’t get mixed up in this.”

“Too late,” Volerik said. Ingressus could feel his hands shaking slightly against his arm but didn’t have time to dwell on it.

“Get away from the kid, Voltaris!” a voice ordered. Ingressus’s gaze shot up, then to his left as a second joined.

“That kid is one of his gang,” the archer said, squashing Ingressus’s brief thought about whether he could fake a hostage situation. She had a bandage hastily wrapped around her hand, and oddly one on her side. The first Sendaris was the one he’d stolen the trident from, empty-handed but with Aggressium energy flickering around her.

“Quiet your Song,” Ingressus told her. “You won’t use it like this.”

He hoped that the bluff he was calling truly was a bluff. Aggrosplinter was not a song meant for precision; if she fired it now he would not be the only one it would harm. He could still feel Volerik clinging to his arm, less support now and more seeking support, and the thought of any harm coming to him sent fire coursing through Ingressus’s blood. Leah wasn’t far away either, she would be at risk from the shrapnel too. Ingressus had never silenced a Song in the heat of battle, but if the Sendaris was cold enough to consider them collateral damage that was what he would have to do…

To his relief the red faded, though the soldier’s glare didn’t. “You can’t hide behind civilians forever, Voltaris.”

“Ingressus, run,” Leah told him. “We’ll hold them off for you. Er, I will.”

Ingressus wasn’t sure there was a single being here who believed that. Leah had never seen real battle before, and anyone would struggle against three adversaries, even if she could keep their attention on her instead of him. To run was to abandon her, and Volerik as well.

Atanal’s soldiers weren’t willing to wait for them to make a plan, as the swordsman spoke. “Cerius, Terbin, subdue the accomplices. No more force than necessary. I’ll handle the Voltaris.”

“Like Nether!” Leah yelled, her voice that of a battle cry as she spun and flung a bottle at the archer. The archer dodged and ran forward and Ingressus pushed Volerik away, ordering him to run before meeting the swordsman’s attack. And then there was no more time for thought or observation as the battle took over.

A part of himself urged him to stop holding back. To strike where he knew would kill, to angle his blade differently to slip between the ribs, or aim his blow higher to cut into the throat. From the moment he’d been old enough to pick up a blade he’d been trained to maximize the damage of each strike, to end a fight fast and never hesitate. If that meant killing, so be it– each enemy down was one less to face. And what would it matter now if he did, when he had already sealed his fate? What more would he have to lose from taking another life, when the enemy was converging and his own life was growing more endangered as they did? He couldn’t keep up like this, he knew it, his wounds were protesting every impact. He needed to cripple him, kill him, end him now—!

He deflected one sword and dodged past the other, pressing the flat of his blade to his opponent’s arm. The Sendaris roared in pain and scrambled back, a clear outline of the superheated blade darkening his skin. Ingressus could see his opponent’s teeth clenched against the pain of the burn, saw the pain and fury in the blue eyes as the soldier collected himself for another strike. Ingressus didn’t give him the chance, he lunged and the soldier barely raised his blades in time to deflect the blow.

The soldier’s burned arm gave out under the strike. Ingressus’s sword scorched a line into the grass as the soldier scrambled back, then surged forward and rammed into Ingressus, hard. Pain shot through Ingressus and he was forced away, staggering to maintain his balance as he readied his sword again. The soldier stood opposite him, breathing hard and with his burnt arm angled away. But he still held his other blade high and strong, as he aimed it at Ingressus again.

“Give it up!” the Sendaris demanded. “You won’t win this, can’t you see? You’ll die or be captured one way or the other, just surrender!”

Ingressus was breathing hard, but shook his head wordlessly.

“Then so be it,” the soldier growled.

He lunged forward. Ingressus readied his sword to meet the soldier’s charge. But green bubbles surrounded the Sendaris and yanked him back, and the three blades scythed through empty air. The Sendaris hit the street with an oof, and he and Ingressus both looked up for the source of the Supporium Song.

“That is enough!” Everin shouted.

The Mendoris woman stormed onto the island, pulling a startled Volerik away from the Sendaris chasing him in a flicker of green as she barked an order at Leah to follow. She caught Volerik and gently set him down, ushering him with her as she reached Ingressus and looked him over.

“Do you need treatment?” she asked him quietly.

Ingressus still had his sword aimed at his opponent, who had risen to his feet and was watching the scene warily. “It would help.”

“What are you doing?” demanded the archer– Terbin, Ingressus thought. “Councillor, this is—”

“I’m putting an end to this.” Everin slung an arm around Ingressus, pulling him close to her side and forcing him to extinguish his blade at the proximity. He squirmed at the unexpected action, but managed not to shrug her off. “Go find Master Atanal and tell her we’re going to sort this out.”

The swordsman pointed at Ingressus. “You’ll be able to discuss this with her all you want, but you need to hand him over to us.”

“You ought to know by now how that would go if I did. Now what are you waiting for, go find her.”

Everin didn’t wait for an answer and strode towards the bridge she’d come from, pulling Ingressus and Volerik with her while Leah tagged close behind. Ingressus gripped his sword, ready to stab any soldier that made a move. Instead he heard the swordsman speak.

“Terbin, go and tell Master Atanal about this development. Cerius, you’re with me.”

Ingressus glanced back to see the archer leave with a last glare at him, and the other soldiers moving to catch up with the group.

“You can’t stop her,” Ingressus muttered to Everin.

“I can’t override her,” Everin replied. “I can demand that she work with me on this.”

She shot a narrowed glare past him at the swordsman, who had fallen into step alongside the group.

“I’m doing my job, councillor,” the soldier replied to the unstated remark. “You may not like it, but you aren’t the one I answer to.”

Volerik blew a raspberry at him from where Everin still held him near. She squeezed his arm in warning.

“Permission to blind them and run for it?” Leah asked.

“Permission denied. Behave.”

Everin took them a few islands up and over, ending at Keleus’s home. She passed Ingressus off to the older Nestoris and Matt, present for some reason and looking like he’d just made it back to the islands, took the other two and pulled them back towards the house.

Everin turned to the soldiers, pointedly gouging a line in the dirt with her foot. “You are not to cross this line.”

Both Sendaris looked unimpressed, but made no move to disobey. Everin stormed off with an “I’ll be back, stay put,” leaving the rest in their stalemate. Cerius hurried over to her partner and inspected his burn, keeping half an eye on Ingressus as Keleus sat him down at the table in his yard. Volerik hurried over to join them, leaving Matt to have a more-stressed-than-usual conversation with his sister.

“Are you okay?” Ingressus breathed. Volerik nodded and held on to his arm again.

“Let me have a look at you,” Keleus said, reaching for Ingressus’s bandaged arm before hesitating for permission. When Ingressus nodded he sat down next to him and began unwrapping the bandage.

There was a short moment of relative peace as the groups’ various injuries were inspected. Ingressus heard the occasional hiss of pain from the swordsman as Cerius put a salve over the burned skin, but he managed to keep his own pain silent as Keleus inspected his wound. It wasn’t a dangerously deep cut, clean and slicing across the markings there. A very sharp blade, then. Keleus wiped away the oozing blood and cleaned the cut with a stinging disinfectant before wrapping it again. It would have to do. Ingressus just prayed he wouldn’t end up needing to stitch it up on his own later.

Ingressus let Keleus take care of the other wounds, the pain and exhaustion from the chase and the battles washing over him. His middle still ached from the flier’s strike, his cuts stung, his bruises sent a twinge of pain through him whenever he shifted. A burning in his lungs testified to the intensity of the chase he’d been through, even as his heartbeat had slowed to a more normal pace. His dry mouth begged for water, and when Keleus finished with his arm Ingressus summoned a bottle from his inventory and gulped down the cool liquid, a sigh of relief escaping him.

“I’ve got more inside if you need it,” Keleus said gently. Ingressus nodded in thanks, lowering the bottle as water dribbled from the corner of his mouth.

The soldiers had apparently finished their own first aid. A wide bandage was wrapped around the swordman’s arm, and the two had moved away from each other to take up positions along Everin’s invisible boundary. He eyed the two soldiers where they paced along the impromptu border, stalking, lying in wait like wolves waiting for their wounded prey to weaken before they sank their fangs into its throat. He could feel their gaze on him, silently declaring we will have you, you cannot run, there’s nowhere to hide.

He felt the weight of his sword in his hand. The blade had seen more battles than he had seen years, even with the period of peace Ataraxia had provided until now. The blade was still marked by this most recent one, the diamond darkened in places from the remains of bloodstains nearly burned away. A faint smear on the pommel marked where he’d struck the soldier tailing Leah. Ingressus hoped he would stay unconscious.

“Tell me something, Voltaris,” the swordsman spoke up. “With how long ago you got here, was he your first kill?”

Ingressus thought for an instant that the soldier meant the one with Protepoint. That Ingressus might’ve actually hit him hard enough to kill him. He knew such a thing was possible. But no, even if he were dead, he wouldn’t have been called the first.

Ingressus didn’t rise to the slight. “Do you intend to make me yours? Or have your swords tasted my clan’s blood already?”

“Don’t think you can shame me for protecting our lands from your kin,” the soldier replied.

That sounded like an affirmative. Unsurprising, given the soldier’s clear battle experience. He felt Keleus resting a hand on his shoulder, whispering a quiet “don’t let them get to you.” Off to the side, Leah broke away from her conversation to add her input.

“Hey, I wasn’t even listening, but knock it off,” she told them. “Thank you.”

Cerius cast a glance at her. “Does she know what you did?”

“I don’t, what is happening?” Matt hissed at Leah.

“We’ve heard what happened, yes,” Keleus said sternly. “And we’re withholding judgement, because we know better than to take secondhand gossip as absolute fact.”

A motion in the air caught Ingressus’s attention. He glanced up to see a familiar blue-violet bird flapping towards them, but the bird– Kay, he realized, one of Aegus’s birds– saw the scene and flared her wings, faltering in midair before veering to the side and perching in a nearby tree. Ingressus forced his gaze away, not wanting to draw attention to her, but he could still see the bird peering through the branches at them.

“You don’t need secondhand rumors,” The swordsman said. He stepped forward and pointed at Ingressus. “You can have the perpetrator’s confession here and now– if he has the accountability to admit to it.”

Ingressus met the soldier’s gaze and saw the anger, the disgust, the challenge thrown down not as a dare but as an accusation meant to trap him whether he spoke the truth or tried in vain to lie.

Still he resisted admitting it. He wished he could keep silent under the gaze of his friends. But there could be no denial.

“Your companion attacked me in the air,” Ingressus told him. “I acted to defend myself against him, and in the process knocked him out and he fell out of the sky.”

His words sank into the quiet air, once more seeming to make the event real by being spoken aloud. Maybe it was his own denial, not wanting to believe he’d gutted his hopes of credibility before Atanal when it came time to reveal himself. She wouldn’t forget this anytime soon.

“So he’s…” Matt said hesitantly.

“Dead? Almost certainly,” Cerius said, the controlled rage in her voice sending another jab through Ingressus’s hopes. “And your friend bears that guilt.”

“You’re wrong,” Volerik spoke up. “I saw it. He was fighting Ingressus, Ingressus just fought back. It wasn’t his fault.”

He saw it? Ingressus looked down at Volerik, still hugging his arm as he looked out at the two soldiers. Had he just seen the fight, had he seen the moment of the impact when the soldier’s body hit the ground? Had the distance spared him from the grisly scene?

Ingressus had long known that the children of Ataraxia held an innocence he’d never had. Their ability to view death as an abstract concept, blood and injury as accident rather than inevitability, and the thought of someday taking a life never even crossing their minds. Even as he had trained the children to handle weapons he had still sought to preserve that, never showing them how to angle a blade between ribs or where to sever a vein. Taking a life might change you, but witnessing death wouldn’t leave you unmarked either.

“Under certain circumstances I could concede self-defense,” Cerius was saying. “But he had the chance to stand down before it ever came to that.” Her gaze met Ingressus’s as he looked back at her. “I gave him that chance myself, and he chose violence instead.”

“I chose to escape,” Ingressus told her.

“You’re looking a little purple there,” Leah snapped at Cerius. She held up a slingshot, plucking at the pouch threateningly. “You want another color in the mix, or are you going to back off?”

“What in Songs’ name is this?”

The archer had returned, storming over to join her fellows as she took in the scene with what looked like a permanent expression of disgust. Her gaze landed on Ingressus and she pointed at him. “Why isn’t he restrained?”

“Because we won’t let that happen, you walking ore chunk,” Leah snapped. “I’ll tell you what I told her, back off.”

“We’re in a stalemate while the councillor negotiates,” Cerius said. “She made it clear we were not to approach him in her absence.”

“He’d be far more secure in prison with the others,” Terbin noted.

Others? Ingressus noticed. Plural?

He knew they had Galleous. But who else had they captured in their search for him?

“I know,” the swordsman said, his disappointment obvious. He lowered his voice, leaving Ingressus straining to hear. “Is N…”

Terbin sighed, replying in the same low tone. Ingressus could make out only a few scattered words: “they took,” “dim when…” “impossible to say…” before the archer noticed Leah blatantly leaning forward to listen and fell silent with a glare. Leah settled back, studying the island above with a faux-bored expression. The swordsman nodded, a worried look on his face at Terbin’s whispered words.

“Did Master Atanal say anything?” Cerius asked.

“Only to keep the situation under control, and make sure the Voltaris doesn’t escape,” Terbin replied, jerking her head at Ingressus.

Volerik hugged Ingressus’s arm tighter. Ingressus rested his free hand over Volerik’s.

“I cut her bowstring,” Volerik whispered. “How did she fix it?”

“She must’ve had a spare string,” Ingressus whispered back. “You made a good call, though.” That might explain why he had only had a single arrow fired at him.

“I know it wasn’t your fault he died,” Volerik spoke up. “I know you wouldn’t do it on purpose.”

Ingressus rubbed Volerik’s hand, uttering an absent “thank you.” It felt nice to be believed in for a change, at least, in the face of the inevitable judgement he would be confronted with.

Because he couldn’t escape this forever, could he? Even if he could escape Ataraxia and return to the Barrier Mountains as a free Ardoni, Atanal wouldn’t forget this. He would still have to face her again when he returned to stand before the council. And by then, she would have surely spread the word to the rest about him. He would be branded a murderer before he could so much as speak a single word in his defense.

His gaze flickered up to Kay, still perched in the tree above and watching through a gap in the leaves. Aegus would (hopefully, he thought,) at least be willing to hear him out, but his support could only go so far. Ingressus couldn’t afford to waste it on his own defense.

Keleus had noticed the bird too. “If she takes you before the high council,” he murmured, “Then… our friend would be there too.”

“Maybe,” Ingressus muttered back. “But I will not appear to them as a prisoner.”

His grip tightened on his sword. He would not be dragged before the Ardoni council battered and in chains, forced to confess his intentions and all he’d learned to those who had already decided what they would believe about him. He would not risk forfeiting his freedom, possibly his life, on the Masters’ inclinations to be reasonable. He would stand before the council under his own power, with his head held high and Voltar in his hands. He was a Master, and he would face them as one.

He looked to the west. The sun was sinking in the sky, slowly inching its way towards the western peaks. The sky had shifted from its vibrant blue to the pale yellow and orange of impending sunset, soon to shift to red and then darken with the onset of night. His pursuers would be warier then, faced as they would be with a dark, unfamiliar land and the danger of roaming undead. But it was a land he and his friends knew well, and unbeknownst to the soldiers they had been culling the nearby monster population for years.

He looked over at Leah. He thought of Ailera, of Matt, of the others who had risked everything to help him, wherever they might be. He thought of Galleous, beyond his help for the time being but perhaps not unsaveable. He thought of his clan but also of those he had grown to love here, to whom he owed so much. He couldn’t let their actions be in vain– whatever his plan would be, it had to work.

His gaze rose to the northern sky. He thought of his clan, under the same darkening skies, and all the lessons he had learned about surviving pursuit and defeating the ones who wanted nothing more than to make sure he didn’t.

He spoke aloud. “I have an idea. But I’ll need help to do it.”