“Did you just do something?” Jasmine asked. “I felt a burst of oath energy from you.”

I had a white lie ready to go in an instant, but I paused with my mouth half-open, the falsehood not quite managing to make its way through my lips.

What had the entire damn crisis of the last few days been because of? It had been my unwillingness to share, my fear of everything good I’d built coming crashing down because of my identity. I had been lucky that my conversation with Jasmine about myself had gone as well as it had, but it made complete and total sense in the context of the person that she was. If I had just managed to place my trust in her sooner, then we might’ve been able to work something out that would have prevented the current sorry state of affairs.

At the same time, I knew Jasmine still didn’t trust me fully. There were still things she was hiding from me, I could feel it, and I didn’t know how to react to that. Yes, I trusted her with my deeper secrets, but was it worth continuing to extend that trust when she didn’t return it in kind?

Well, there was always the possibility that I was seeing ghosts and she didn’t have anything to keep hidden, but that felt unlikely.

“Lily?” Jasmine prompted. “Were you going to say something? It’s alright if you would prefer to not speak of it, I simply seek to ensure your continued safety.”

I blinked. Right, I’d been halfway through beginning a sentence.

I was going to compromise. Half the truth. Not a misleading half, but not a fully revealing one either.

“My god has called for my presence before,” I said. “The place it summons me to is one in which time passes differently. Non-baseline realities, I believe they were once called.”

“Also known as otherspace, oathspace, and liminal space,” Jasmine said, her features creasing into a frown. “I am familiar with the term. How did you end up inside of one? Gods rarely do that, if ever, and in the rare event that it occurs it is near always one of the multifaith Church’s Chosen.”

“Inome isn’t quite the same as the most common gods that people swear oaths to,” I reminded her. “It’s broken and so forgotten that I don’t think even the god itself can remember its past.”

“Is your god where you learned how to communicate like that?” Jasmine asked. “Your method of asking for help was… rather noticeable to most, though it would appear that it managed to slip through certain nobles’ minds like water through clasped fingers.”

"The broken god is where I learned how to do that, yes,” I said. “It utilizes a unique aspect of the god that I have access to.”

Nishi being that unique aspect, of course. I didn’t want her to know about his existence just yet, nor did I want the other way around to occur. They were two very separate types of partners in two parts of my life that I would much rather keep separate. Selfish of me, maybe, and I realized that I was kind of ignoring the lesson I’d just learnt, but I had never said I wasn’t a hypocrite. If Nishi became more of an immediate concern that we might meet, I would talk to Jasmine about him.

“You can share more of that with me when you feel more comfortable,” Jasmine said.

Ah. She’d seen right through that half-truth, then. Something about being around her just made me put less effort into my deceptions. That might become a problem eventually, but right now Jasmine didn’t sound hurt or disappointed. Surprisingly enough, her voice was soft and understanding, like she was talking to a crippled soldier who had been mauled in battle. As much as it made me want to feel like I was being condescended to, I couldn’t muster up any anger. I found heat, but it was a warm fuzziness that pervaded my heart, not the fiery irritation that might usually come.

“Thank you,” I said.

“You know just as well as I that I still have secrets too,” Jasmine said, shrugging. “When the time comes, we can both show each other what we still hide. So long as I have your promise that this is not something that will immediately affect us.”

I thought on that for a second. Nishi was a dangerously powerful oathholder, yes, and he had indicated that he wanted to make his way to my position before, but I hadn’t sensed any malice from him when we’d been speaking together. If anything, he seemed to have my best interests in mind, even if that came in the package of an apparently moderately deranged mass murderer.

From the clues given through his dialogue and from the feel of distance that the other Inome oath that had been called—his oath—had given, Nishi was nowhere close to us. Not an immediate boon, not an immediate problem.

“It’s not a factor right now,” I said. “It mainly pertains to my gradual increase in power and currently has no impact on our situation.”

“Likewise,” Jasmine responded. “When the time comes, I swear that you will learn the information I have been keeping hidden before anyone else does.”

Huh. Now that I thought about it, this little exchange here was the first time Jasmine had really acknowledged that she was hiding anything beyond the circumstances of how she’d gotten the right body for her soul. That was a step forward in terms of trust, wasn’t it? Had my talk with her really gotten her to open up more?

The carriage hit a bump in the road, jostling all of us in the carriage. From the back of the carriage, a resounding thump told me that something rather massive had just fallen on the floor.

No, not something. Someone.

“Right, we’re still carrying that guy,” I muttered. With the whole “getting pulled to a reality that isn’t real” thing, I’d almost forgotten. “What was his name again? Kal?”

“Kal Cirman,” Jasmine replied. “I recognize the surname, but there is every possibility that he was lying through his teeth.”

“I think I would’ve noticed a blatant lie like that,” I said. “I’ve gotten pretty decent at that over the years.”

“You may be a strong truth-teller, Lily, but even you are not infallible.” Jasmine nudged me gently with her shoulder as she said so, a small and rather undignified grin crossing her lips.

“I’m plenty fallible,” I agreed. “I think we rather clearly established that over the last few days. So, what of the Cirmans?”

“Assuming that this man here is truly a Cirman,” Jasmine said, “Then he belongs to a semi-prominent merchant family. They are not large enough to be truly wealthy, but they maintain enough holdings to have some semblance of status in Dakheng.”

“Merchants, huh…” I mused. “What do they sell?”

“Music boxes,” Jasmine said blandly. “Aedi oath-made creations and trinkets, mostly. They have a presence in a number of cities, including the one House Rayes oversees. It may be different here, but my impression of the family was that they price extremely low and make only the thinnest profit margins. Increasing volume and work for less money.”

“That doesn’t sound like the type of family that churns out snipers that can do this with a fucking hunting rifle,” I said, indicating the cracks in the glass of the carriage’s windows where a storm of bullets had hit in almost exactly the same spot.

“It is not,” Jasmine nodded. “Which means that either he is lying about his family—“

“Which I think is unlikely, just for the record.”

“—or he has been trained elsewhere. I stated earlier that I believe he is ex-military, and he does happen to be mentally programmed.”

“Yeah,” I said, not quite sure what to say. There were bad memories trying to flood into my mind, but I tossed them aside. I had more important things to do right now. “We can find someone who can deprogram him, right?”

“Perhaps,” Jasmine said. “House Varga is largely populated by Ditas and Nacea oaths. If Alex is capable of convincing his family to give us some help…”

“That would be workable,” I said. “Alright. So we just need to get to the meeting with them, assuming there’s nothing else in our way, and then we can remove the compulsions. Yes?”

“Correct.” Jasmine looked back. “I think the fall did not seriously injure him, and he is certainly still asleep.”

Ah, right. That was a thing. If he wasn’t dead or dying, it wasn’t my problem. All I had to do now was make it to our next point safely, and then we could work from there.

Alas, the city of Dakheng seemed to want to do its best to prevent us from getting anything done. We’d scarcely made it ten minutes out of the square when there was activity outside the carriage again.

This time, at least, the influx of armed people didn’t seem to be aiming their hatred towards us. They were all rushing towards another location. We passed one cluster of people that were heading on a path that coincided with ours, then another. Then another.

“What the hell is this?” I asked. “Some kind of witch hunt?”

“Good question,” Jasmine said. “Would you like to follow them? I believe it may hold great value for us.”

“I don’t want to,” I admitted. “There’s too much on our plates. But it might be worth doing anyway.”

Lord Alzaq was dead. Alto Tempet was dead. If both of the commoner mob overlords had been slain, then who the fuck was commanding them now? And what did that person want?

Seeking the end target of this pursuit—one that had the people in such a fervor that they weren’t even bothering looking at our carriage let alone targeting it—might give us the information we needed to understand our enemy’s motivations.

It was also a potentially exceptionally bad idea that could utterly derail us and turn the mob on us.

“Hey, Jasmine,” I said reluctantly. “I don’t think that the mob is going to ignore the carriage forever.”

There was a steady stream of them. We were passing another cluster of three or four people wearing common dress—I hesitated to call them commoners, given their evident preparedness and level of training—every now and then, and if recent experience had taught me anything it was that these commoners wouldn’t take too kindly to a noble flaunting their gear in front of them.

“You are correct,” Jasmine said. She hit a button at the side of the carriage, and we slowed to a stop beneath the shade of a shuttered two-story shop that hadn’t been painted in so long that dried pieces of it flaked off en masse when the carriage bumped into it. “As much as I hate to admit it, we may need to abandon this pursuit.”

“Not necessarily,” I said, stretching out my words. I really didn’t want to suggest this, but not suggesting it was a surefire way to feel regret that I hadn’t at least brought up the option earlier.

“What do you mean by that?”

“You can handle yourself.” I paused, unsure if I wanted to finish this line of thought, then soldiered on ahead. Too late to renege now. “I can follow them on foot while you meet with House Varga. If all goes well, we’ll be able to meet up again afterwards. I think I know where the address set for the meeting is.”

“Are you sure?” Jasmine asked. “That’s… worrying for your safety, among other issues.”

“I can handle myself as well,” I said. “And we do want some investigation into this issue, right? This doesn’t look like a repositioning of troops or anything like that which would take hours or days to resolve. This looks like an attack.”

“Understandable,” Jasmine said. “I can see your rationale for that. I dislike the thought of us being separated again, but…”

“I do too,” I admitted. “I would much rather stay with you right now, but I think that this might be too important an issue to ignore.”

Jasmine sighed. “You’re right, and I think that neither of us enjoy that fact.”

The people we had been passing were passing us now. I didn’t recognize any of them, but their bent seemed familiar. I was sure that if I looked hard enough, I would be able to find some of Seb’s group here.

“And it can’t be you that pursues them,” I added. “You’re the noble, the one who can actually navigate political situations like this. You’re the one who can actually make a difference with Alex and the others. You’re also a Nacea oath, so you can keep the captive from waking up anytime soon. I’m just a blade in hand.”

“You are far more than that, Lily, more than you realize,” Jasmine replied, her voice going surprisingly soft. “Though you are correct that I may be more suited for this task in particular."

"This sucks,” I grumbled.

I’d been torn from Jasmine for a heart-stopping few hours last night, and now that I had her back I didn’t want to let myself leave her sight. Unfortunately, logic had to triumph emotion here. As much as I wanted to stay with my favorite noble girl and go meet up with another noble that I could actually tolerate, the stability of this battlefield took precedence. I held little fondness for the noble Houses, but House Rayes was composed of decent people and housed Jasmine. I didn’t want my adventuring partner to be taken out of commission because this battle got too messy, was all.

…definitely no other motives there, nope. None that would be productive to think about right now, at least.

“Stay safe, okay?” Jasmine asked, resting a hand on my shoulder. “If you can manage something on a similar level as what you did last night, I’ll come with the entire party.”

“I’ll try,” I said, smiling weakly. “If it gets too hot, I’ll just pull out and group up with you.”

“Got it,” Jasmine acknowledged. “Gods, I wish we still had Caethus stones.”

“I’d been meaning to ask about that,” I said. “You’re out?”

“The last of our stock was given to our soldiers, and our household supplies experienced a failure a couple days ago,” Jasmine said. She frowned. “Which, now that I mention it, sounds less like an equipment failure and more like sabotage. Our next shipment of the things was supposed to come soon, but with the Tempets going against us it is appearing rather unlikely that we will obtain more.”

“Shit, those things could’ve come in handy,” I said. “Alright then. I’ll meet up with you as soon as I can. Assuming the meeting lasts…”

“It can last the whole day, if we’re waiting for you,” Jasmine said. “We have more than enough issues on our plate to pass the time with.”

“If I’m not back by nightfall and you haven’t seen any communication from me, assume that I’m infiltrating a group,” I said. “I’ll activate my communication method if I’m in serious danger.”

“Understood,” Jasmine said.

She scooted over on the carriage and wrapped her arms around me, snuggling her head into my chest for a moment. I tensed as she grabbed me, the sudden motion surprising me, but I sank into the hug when I saw it for what it was.

“Good luck,” she whispered. “Come back to me safe and soon, alright?”

“I will,” I whispered back.

She released me, and the absence of her warmth made itself clear immediately.

Without saying another word, I opened the carriage door and left. Waiting any longer would’ve guaranteed that I turned back, thought over it again, and that wasn’t something that I could allow to happen right now.

I had a mission to complete, and I’d be damned if I let emotions get in the way.

Almost as soon as I got out of the carriage, it started to move away, returning from where we’d come. Either Jasmine had been absolutely raring to go or she’d harbored some of the same feelings as me.

That brought to mind other questions, questions about Jasmine and her preferences and—

And it wasn’t the time to be thinking about that right now. I had stepped into chaos, and now I had to make the most out of it.

People were still running by me, glancing over at me and then continuing on, perhaps after confirming that I wasn’t their target.

I started sprinting just as another cluster of three passed me. I couldn’t tell their gender from behind, but all three of them were wearing faded, bland clothes that could’ve easily placed them as any of the thousands of commoners living in relative squalor in this city. If it weren’t for the revolvers strapped to their belts, I might’ve not been able to tell them apart from regular citizens.

We didn’t make it very far before they realized that there were four sets of footsteps rather than three.

One of them turned around. A boy, it looked like, not old enough to be in university, complete with sandy hair and brown eyes that looked just as dull as his clothes did.

While their color might have been dull, his gaze was sharp and his pace was steady. Even as we ran, continuing down the stone-paved street that held dozens of armed commoners, he called out to me.

“Who the hell are you?”

“I’m from Seb’s group! He told me to just go with the mass when I got free!” I shouted back. I didn’t recognize this boy’s voice or face, which meant he likely hadn’t been in that group. Banking on him recognizing the name and accepting it was risky, but there were even odds that just pretending to know where I was supposed to be would be enough. Sufficient confidence did a lot more than most people gave it credit for.

“Free from what?” he asked, his voice at more of a normal pitch than it was before. He turned his gaze back in front of him.

“I’m a noblewoman’s servant,” I lied. “Not by choice, but I have time off every now and then. Now is one of those times.”

And thank the gods, he swallowed the bait whole. “Glad to have you. Did the savant tell you where we’re going?”

The savant, huh? That was almost definitely Seb, given how he’d seemed to have way more knowledge than he should have when I’d met him.

“He didn’t,” I said. “I wasn’t there, given that my fucking shithead noble of a boss dragged me away from it.”

The epithet seemed to gain me more points with him. The boy wasn’t even questioning if I was lying at this point or not.

“We’ve located one of the nobles responsible for the failure of the first phase of the master plan,” the boy explained, not even breathing hard despite the hard pace we were beating. “Just now, in fact. We’re to collapse on his location and ensure he doesn’t make it out alive.”

“Who’s the noble?” I asked. Not Alex or Jasmine, surely. There’s no way they could have found out we were going to meet this quickly.

“Who cares?” the boy replied. “A dead noble is a dead noble.”

That… was true enough, I supposed.

As we ran, the ramshackle buildings around us gradually got nicer. We were getting closer to the city center, I gathered. The market there was thriving, ensuring that the beating heart of the commoner portion of Dakheng remained well-furnished and lively, but surely we wouldn’t be finding a noble there.

As it turned out, we weren’t. Before we could get much closer to the city center, the flow of the commoner clusters changed direction, abruptly breaking off into a side street.

“We’re nearing,” the boy said, excitement coloring his voice.

“You’re awfully excited,” I noted.

“He has reason to be,” another boy said, his voice just as young as the first’s. “Connor here is one of the only men in our group that has managed to gain an oath.”

Now that was information that gave me pause. Oathholders? Amongst commoners? That was nearly unheard of. That sort of information wasn’t accessible to the general public, largely kept carefully hidden by the nobles. I’ll need to watch this one.

“An oath?” I said, doing my best to sound surprised. “How?”

“I don’t know,” the boy admitted freely. “But I’ve got one, and I’m strong.”

He wasn’t. If I focused deeply, drawing on the new techniques that I’d gained as I’d grown closer to my god, I could sense oath energy emitting from him. It didn’t feel strong to my other-sense, at the very least. In practice, it might be different, but without formal training or education I highly doubted his oathholder class was very high. Still, if it came to violence, this one would be the most important one to keep track of.

Ahead of us, the street opened up into a clearing. At one end of that clearing lay a lone house, two stories tall and decently maintained even compared to the rest of the buildings, which at this point in the city no longer looked like they would collapse at a particularly loud sneeze.

The people in front of us were clustering around the building, surrounding every side of it. The doors to the first floor had been smashed open, and commoners were flooding in, one cluster at a time.

I watched as another cluster entered, then waited. And waited.

When it became clear that they weren’t going to come out, I focused on the oath-sense again. If the noble that we were supposed to be flushing out was inside this place, it was reasonable to assume that it was an oathholder.

There was something in there. A familiar oath.

As we got even closer to the building, close enough that a few seconds of quick sprinting would let us into the broken first floor entrances, I heard it.

From the second floor of the building, a man was shouting, voice raw and primal.

I could barely recognize the shouts as words, muffled as they were by the house, but I was able to just about make them out. Combined with the sensation through my other-sense, I was pretty sure who this was.

Another person ran in before I could react, and moments later I could hear their footsteps stomping up a set of stairs.

They didn’t make it any further. I was listening and feeling for the words this time, and I could make them out clear as day when I focused hard enough.

On the second floor, a man came to a stop in front of his noble enemy.

“Stop breathing,” Orchid Alzaq ordered.