At last, a few days in, Siel came up with a plan, but Shean did not share her enthusiasm.

It won’t work, she thought. This is the Academy. Anyone here can pick up on what you’re thinking. You can’t hide it from them.

Not from the higher-ups, Siel countered, but the higher-ups have business to attend to, don’t they? They won’t come, it’s undignified. They’ll send some low-level nobody, yesterday’s initiate, just a few years older than we are. And that we can manage. She pressed her hands to Shean’s temples, in a gesture for silence. As long as you play along, too.

There did not seem to be any point in arguing; it was clear Siel would do it regardless. Shean laid down on her bed, doing her best to think of nothing. Siel stood by the window, waiting for a passer-by to show up. Soon enough, one did, and she pushed a window open promptly. As the person looked up towards the sound, she began to signal, waving her arms about in large, expansive gestures.

Where a mind could not reach, symbols could. Shean watched her, reading. The words came one by one — ‘SICKNESS’, ‘CHILD’, ‘HELP’. Sunlight fell directly onto Siel, making her skin glimmer with green. Shean could see the passer-by through her eyes, repeating the gestures to confirm, then, once Siel was done, galloping away into the village. An unwell child could not be ignored; someone from the Academy would be sent to check on them. Shean had no symptoms, no semblance of an illness at all, but she would not need to actually pretend. As long as the door was unlocked, the plan was simply to run, as fast as they could.

In fairness, it was only a slim chance. Their intentions could be heard; the Academy could stop them on the way out; or they could be caught outside, before they found a vehicle to steal. That would be a crime, too, Shean knew, but it was their only hope — the only way to outrun potential pursuit.

What they would do once they reached the city, neither was sure, but it did seem important to at least try. Once they were there, once they could tell the people — perhaps then a route might present itself.

Steps were approaching. Siel tensed, forcing her consciousness into silence. Shean used the wall as an aid, staring at it, thinking of nothing but it, trying to render her mind as empty as that pale surface.

The door opened, and she sensed the sudden change in Siel’s mind as it deflated and bristled, faced with an unwelcome surprise. Shean shot up — and found herself staring into eyes she’d never seen before, and into a mind that knew exactly what they were up to.

Siel was looking lower, and Shean saw it through her — the decorations on the robe, the Academy status symbols; this was no low-level nobody that they’d wished for, but a member standing nearly as high as their Directress. Shean had been right — it had not worked, after all — but the understanding brought her no contentment.

Siel switched to a direct approach.

We want to leave, she proclaimed without shame. Let us go.

The visitor’s eyes narrowed.

You will do best to address me politely, child. There was the same blankness of mind as with the Mistresses, but the detached tone she used was absent. Whoever this person was, he was not interested in hiding his feelings at the moment.

Siel’s mind turned around, seeking for a way to placate, to influence, to get what she wanted —

I apologize, she thought, ignoring how apparent it was that she did not mean it. You have come to our call; clearly you are a sympathetic individual. Pity our plight, then — have we not been punished enough? We have stayed here for days, forgotten, and in our isolation it’s felt like years. All we ask for is to go home, and help it in its hour of need; all we wish for…

Slow down, the visitor spoke, overriding her. I know why you are here; I know who locked you in. I know what you want. He looked at each in turn, radiating slight amusement. Your words cannot sway me. However, I have indeed come to let you go.

Both girls stared at him in suspicion.

Why? Shean ventured cautiously.

We are departing. The building will be closed; there will be none left to watch over you. Thus, we must be rid of you. He had not closed the door, and now stepped aside, opening an escape for them. Isn’t this what you wanted? Go, now.

What of our Directress? Shean asked. Did she allow this?

A sudden flash of anger from the visitor made her recoil —

Her opinion is irrelevant. She holds power here no longer. You will do as I tell you. Leave.

Shean stood up, uncertain, but Siel remained in place.

Where are you going? she asked. To help the city?

He allowed his exasperation to radiate —

You’re not members. This is none of your concern.

Where are we to go? Shean asked.

I do not care. The visitor seemed to have become bored with them, and turned to leave. School, home, wherever you please, just be gone by nightfall.

The girls listened to his steps fade into the distance. They could sense no thinking around except for each other; but with the door open, some sounds were drifting in — rustling, pacing, occasional falls — sounds that suggested packing, now that they knew what to expect.

They are leaving. Siel was looking at the doorway, unable to believe their luck after days of seclusion. Why do you think they’d let us go? Why not take us with them, why disobey the orders?

Does it matter? Shean asked, growing exasperated, too. Take it as it comes. The Academy will not share its reasoning with us, and we have more pressing worries than trying to understand them.

Outside, the morning sun shone brilliantly from a sky as blue as the wildflowers down in the forest. There was no cloud in sight; no smoke, either, but that could change soon enough. Shean strode out, and after a bit of deliberation Siel followed, looking around warily.

They were not stopped on their way out. Most doors stood ajar; the girls did not risk slowing down to watch, unwilling to attract attention, but as they passed through the corridors they did catch some glimpses of people moving within — arranging something, checking their equipment, collecting their things… walking out, walking away.

Closer to the first floor, the stairs became outright crowded.

So many people, Siel thought, intimidated. She and Shean crept down, keeping close to the wall. The Academy members ignored them, presumably considering some schoolchildren to be unworthy of notice. So far, they had seen no familiar faces around. I know, I know, this is a hub for our entire region, but you don’t get the feel of it from the lessons…

They built it this large for a reason. Shean was trying to concentrate on the steps, afraid to slip on the smooth stone. A few days earlier, she had climbed it in a daze, not thinking; perhaps that was a better way to navigate this place. How do we get to the city? We need to find a ride.

She did not need to ask if Siel still wanted to go. Behind the suspicions, the intent still shone brightly in her mind, even if muddled slightly by the fact she did not quite believed yet that they were out, that her devices for their liberation turned out to be superfluous.

Shean had hoped that the villagers, at least, could provide some information, but once she descended low enough to hear them, their thoughts turned out to be disappointingly mundane, and revealed nothing new. The locals knew the Academy place was shutting down; but they also knew it was no use to ask questions, and treated this event as they would any other thing the Academy did — as a mysterious inevitability, much like the weather. If any of them possessed any knowledge of the vision, they were not thinking of it now. The girls walked across the main square, listening keenly, but could pick up nothing.

They did learn of a land ferry point just outside the village, though, which did sound like a better choice than stealing. They never had a need of it before — the school had its own vehicles, employed every time students needed to be taken somewhere. It looked just like the city ferries the girls were familiar with: a long, narrow carriage, with rows of seats and rails to aid movement within. There wasn’t much space assigned to each seat — barely enough for six limbs, pulled together inwards to fit them into the curve of a spine — but at least this was a means of reaching their destination.

Once inside, they found a place in the back and huddled together. Shean watched absent-mindedly the people coming in, concentrated on obscuring her thoughts. There would be no Academy members taking the ferry, she knew, but even with just the villagers around it was best to take care.

As the last few seats were taken and the driver prepared to pull out, she caught a heightened wave of fear from Siel.

It can’t be her. It’s her. No power here, he said; more lies. That is her. She’ll come for us. Siel was clutching Shean’s wrist. Shean could sense the remnants of the channel between them, quivering like seaweed, ready to be re-established. The temptation to come together, to shut out the world was strong, but it would be like a beacon to the Directress. Shean followed Siel’s line of sight, to check with her own eyes. The steps of the Hall were too far away to tell for sure, but the figure that stood there did wear the robe of a Mistress, did seem to have the right height…

Shean slid down the seat. It would be stupid to remember to hide their thoughts, and be caught because their faces were seen. Siel had pulled her hind knees to her ears so that the folds of her robe fell around her face, casting it in shadow. The ferry lurched, then rolled on — slow at first, but gathering speed. After a while, Siel looked out again, but could see nothing but the forest.

As she watched, several Academy carriages sped by, disappearing into the hills. The road glimmered under the sun, dark and smooth like a deep canal. The day was growing noticeably hotter. The villagers around them sat calmly, deep in their own thoughts, utterly unaware.

The ferry could only bring them so far; it would take the girls several changes, several more waits at stops before they would reach the city. But they had at least escaped — were, at least, moving in the right direction, and Shean tried to relax.

The forest glided past their windows, the cooler air wafting in occasionally from its shadowed insides. Shean could smell the pine needles baking in the sun, the clean scent of grass. No cinders, for now, but that meant little.

It took the girls most of the morning to reach the city. Logically, Shean understood it had not been that long after all, yet it had felt interminable, nearly as bad as their days in confinement. Her eyes had begun to hurt from all the sunlight, but there would be no chance to rest them any time soon.

Siel was barely managing to suppress her agitation.

How do I tell them? she thought, and Shean was surprised to sense panic radiating from her, her confidence for once too weak to overpower it. How do I get them to believe? And what are we to do, once I tell them — where do we start?

Let’s find a large group of people. Shean shielded her eyes with a hand as she looked up at the city gates. There is a market nearby, that could be a good option.

The city seemed untroubled, people milling about as they always did during the day — walking to or from their places of work, carrying foods, carrying children. The clatter of footsteps filled the streets, reflecting off the stone walls up into the sky. Some trees bore foliage that seemed full-grown, others were only halfway to their summer bulk. Shean stared at it all, feeling the vision rise in her mind again, blurring the line between the reality around her and the future that was coming. Yet even as she saw it, felt it, felt Siel next to her shudder at it — no-one else paid her any mind; and she remembered.

In the city, you learned not to listen, unless addressed directly. There were too many people clustered together, too many currents of thought running at cross-purposes. Her own instincts had kicked in without her noticing, too — she had not been paying attention to them herself, had opened her ears but not her mind. No wonder they did not hear her, either. At school, watched ceaselessly by the Mistresses, you could forget how insignificant your thoughts could be, but here — here Shean could open her thoughts, with the vision clear for anyone to see, and nobody would care.

Siel was considering it, too.

We will have to shout, she decided, but they both knew that would come with its own set of risks. Disrupting the tranquility of citizenry was yet another crime, if a minor one. Still, it would be worth it as long as they were not stopped before they could do what they had come for — as long as no Academy members were nearby to interfere, as the Directress had done.

Shean was the lighter of the two, and she climbed on Siel’s back to check the crowds again. Whichever way she looked, though, there was no familiar uniform in sight. This was somewhat unusual, but perhaps things have changed; perhaps the city-dwelling members had been called out, the same as those that were leaving the village.

The market was vast. Shean could see no end to it, even though she knew where the boundary actually lay. It did not seem to matter where they would begin — everywhere was full of people, and anywhere could be an audience. Still, the sight of the throng unnerved her; she jumped back down, trembling. Yet delaying would gain nothing. She could feel Siel wavering, too, taken over by fear, but despite it she was reluctant to relinquish what she’d chosen as her duty, and so Shean did not offer to step in.

A fountain was the first convenient elevation they came upon, and Siel clambered upon that. Through her eyes, Shean scanned the crowd one last time — still no Academy in sight.

Siel concentrated.

Listen to me! she screamed, at the top of her abilities. Faces turned one by one, drawn to the disturbance like flowers to the sun. There is great trouble coming! Fragments of the vision flashed in the air, magnified, terrible. Fear came in a gust, as Siel continued — Leave, save yourselves!

Doubt showed up fast after the fear, as it always did — as they knew it would, but it still hurt Siel that she was not credible. Shean was less troubled by it herself, and only listened as the thoughts came at her in fragments, competing —

Mad, the girl’s mad…

She made it up, didn’t she? It cannot happen here, stone doesn’t burn…

Look at that robe! She ran away from school, the rule-breaker…

Call the Academy, this is their problem.

Siel reached for Shean’s hand, gripping it hard enough to hurt, drawing on her strength. Shean felt the pull through the skin, searing her joints, and tried to give in, to open herself to it; but it hurt too much, and through the pain it was hard to think. If they had been true opposites it would’ve been easier, would’ve been…

My friend has received a vision! Siel went on, pushing to keep up the volume. The Academy is hiding it from you, but we escaped, we came to warn all —

The Academy would do no such thing, silly child, someone interrupted.

Visions are unreliable, another added. You can’t expect us to act on some vision. It won’t happen anyway…

No, my great-aunt once had a vision that came true! Siel looked for the source of this voice, for the help, but the crowd blurred before her tired eyes. Sometimes they do, I have witnessed it!

Don’t be stupid, someone else came in. The city is of stone. It cannot burn.

Who was that friend, anyway? another called. Why didn’t she come?

I have. Shean intended to call out, but her voice came out so small she could barely hear herself. She tried again, I have seen it. I am here.

You have seen it? Now she spotted one of the speakers, but it gave her nothing — she did not know these people, the city was too large. Who are you, that you’re so sure it’s true? You’re only a child. You cannot know.

If the Academy did nothing, that means there was nothing to do, another voice stated. Shean had lost count, could no longer tell if this one had spoken out before or not. Stop disrupting our peace. Go away.

Has anyone called the Academy? someone asked. Where are they?

And in a flash, in one burst of thought that ran across the place like a flood, the tide turned.

That’s right — where are they?

I don’t see one! Where did they go?

Only now did the people detect that something was missing — something that had always been there, or close enough to come when called; something was wrong, after all, and with that understanding the mood of the crowd flipped, fear rising to become terror in moments, as no calls were answered and the realization settled in.

Siel was looking down on them, with a mix of jubilation and misery in her mind. She let go of Shean, now that they had been heard, but Shean could still sense her, close as they were physically.

Well, now they know, Siel thought as she slid down off the fountain carefully, standing first on two legs, then on four. The hem of her robe brushed the water, and was dripping it onto the pavement now, but Siel did not notice. Somehow it doesn’t feel like an achievement. I might feel it later, I guess. Her consciousness was hazy, all her energy spent on just the few sentences of shouting. What if it doesn’t happen, now? What do you think they’ll do to us?

It will happen, Shean thought to her. Don’t you remember how it looked? It’s precise. It’s today. I know now.

She did know. Looking around, bending under the overwhelming unreality of it, she saw how closely it all fit — the trees, the light, the air itself were all the same, exactly what she’d seen. The voices shifted all around, a dreamy landscape filled with frightened calls —

Why aren’t they coming?

Have they left? Has anyone seen them?

So it’s true, then, and they left us to it!

We should run, shouldn’t we? We should leave…

What’s that?

The sun beat down on the square, harsh, unforgiving. The fountain had grown too hot to stand next to, the artificial stone it was made of giving off as much heat as if it had been in the sun for days. Belatedly Shean registered that last question, the horror in it, and turned to look.

The water was boiling. On the rim, about a quarter of the circle away, sat a creature from her vision, looking at her with its tiny black eyes. Shean watched it in complete disbelief, not processing — not at first. It was here, yet it could not be; it made no sense, because nothing like this could ever exist. Life came from water, she knew — all life they had ever known of was like this, both back home and here. She had not got such a clear view in the vision, where the creature was running underfoot, obscured by all the legs. She could see it better now — the tiny body, glowing with an inner fire, the eyes black as coal yet shining like diamonds… And even at this distance, the heat coming from it was near-unbearable.

The stone had begun to sizzle.

Run!

Time slowed, then came to a standstill, or at least so it felt. If Shean could find a way to another level, she would know how to stop it — how to prevent it, make it so it would never be. She had dreamed it, in a nightmare after being awakened in the middle of the night; it had to be born out of a diseased mind, her own brain losing its grasp on sanity that was questionable at the best of times. Siel was right about her, Siel who had said — and now Siel was pulling at her, screaming at her to move, but Shean could not.

She had been the one with the vision, yet somehow it ended up being Siel’s quest — Siel’s belief that drove them on, Siel’s choices that led them here, while all Shean had ever had was a formless doubt. She had never expected this, not really. Only now was she realizing she had not seen it coming, despite having literally seen. She was the one who had believed without truly believing, and now the time came to pay.

Move away! Siel yelled in her mind, in her face, pulling her bodily aside, away from the thing and the boiling, dripping fountain; and like in a dream, Shean moved — stepped away — started to run.

The world shifted and fell into place. Siel’s hand was like a lifeline, the only reminder this was not the vision — no longer the future, but suddenly, rapidly, the present. Shean was not ready, never would be ready, but the time had run out without warning. They had come too late, after all; all they gave the city were moments that would never be enough…

They only let us go when they knew we’d be too late, Siel hissed to her. If we get out of here, I will never forgive — I guarantee, I will never — unimaginable —

But the words were growing muddled; the focus had started to ebb, as the crowd mentality took over. The stampede had begun, spreading through the city like a wildfire. This was how they had run on the home world, back when there was no Affirmation yet, no Crime, no Academy — when they were not a civilization but mere prey, their sheer numbers their only defense when away from the healing shade of the woods…

These instincts would not help now. All around, more creatures were emerging — from the ground, it seemed, or even the walls; the things threw themselves bravely into the path of the stampede, bringing down many with their fiery touch, before being trodden into the corpses. Whether they died there, extinguished by all of the blood, or escaped into the earth, Shean could not tell. Heads and manes surrounded her and obstructed her view, but the pictures in the minds of others were vivid enough to guide her onwards. Shrieks of pain reached her, but they were blunted, unimportant — later, later it would be time to mourn, to shiver, to weep; later, when they had run far enough, and were freed of this peril. All concern was for later.

She would never know when she lost Siel, when their hands slipped out of each other’s grasp. Thick smoke was coming from everywhere, turning the sun peach-pink. The fishy stink of the river hit Shean’s nose hard; she saw the current glittering under the bridge as she galloped across. The water was steaming, and the fishes floated on top, bellies up. She was almost a graduate, had to be stronger than this panicked, mindless drive. She needed to think, and find a way out.

On the other bank lay a maze of tiny streets, and the crowd dispersed. This could not stop the connection, but Shean felt it weakened somewhat by the distance, heard the voices grow slightly quieter, and the pull a little less potent. She drifted to one side, flattened herself against a wall, then stopped, letting people pass her by until they were all gone, without ever noticing they had left her behind.

She sat on the ground for a while, clutching her head, waiting for the confusion to wear off.

The sun and the moon had hardly moved, yet it felt like days had elapsed since she and Siel had come to the city — had walked into the gates, trembling at the thought of public speaking, entirely unprepared for what it would turn into. Their kind was an advanced species, or so they’d thought — stampedes hardly ever happened anymore, because the crowd madness could be stopped by clear reasoning. But you needed an Academy member for that — it was they who were trained for it, they who knew what to do.

But the Academy had left…

Shean looked around. She could no longer hear the others, now that the crowd had moved on. The creatures had gone with it, leaving behind nothing but some blackened cobblestones and patches of soot on the walls. The houses here were tall enough to leave the whole street in shadow, but the heat was still hard to bear. The glow of distant fires made the sky seem pale orange. Had Siel got out, like Shean had? Or was she one of those screams Shean had heard but not registered, too taken by the collective purpose? Siel was accomplished; if Shean managed to find a way out, Siel should have, too. Shean had never understood her, not truly, even though at times she wished to. She could never decide if she even liked her; but then the opposites were often like that. Time was supposed to make sense of it, to bring them closer or apart, to grant them greater wisdom and help them learn what they truly meant to each other… the time they might never have now. Still, Shean had to at least try to find her. Somewhere in the city there was Shean’s own family, too, but she’d been apart from them for far too long to feel invested, to care more about them than she did about any random citizen. Once the Academy claimed you, you were meant to forget; and Shean had done her best to obey. Siel was another matter.

Uncertain of where to go, Shean walked back towards the river. She did not know these streets, but at least she remembered the general direction. What she would do once she reached it, she was not yet sure.

It galled how little she did know, really. Now she was beginning to truly understand Siel’s frustration. Why did the Academy abandon the city? Why did a member let them go, when the Directress did not wish it? Why had they never been told anything, explained anything about this happening — this event that Shean had foreseen yet failed to stop? Where did these creatures come from? What were they, and what did they want?

Some say a parasite, some say a curse. Fire was the natural enemy to Shean’s kind, something they could not stand even for moments. Every time they used it, they had to build heavy guards around it, because one tiny spark would be enough to kill. Life here was different, though; life here could survive a burn, could even heal afterwards if the damage was small enough. That was how this place was meant to be — that was its way. Her kind had never really belonged here.

Smoke made it hard to see, hard to breathe. Shean peered into the murk, but could only make out hazy outlines of more houses and streets, more places she did not recognize. Siel would know where to go. Siel always knew what to do, even if sometimes she had to make it up as she went. A wall drifted out of the gloom; a dead-end. Shean turned around, and came face to face with the creatures.

It should’ve felt surprising, startling even, but all she felt was an odd, hollow sense of clarity.

They were far enough away that she could try leaping over them, but as she moved to do so they spread out, lifting their tiny limbs threateningly. One was brandishing a club — a piece of wood larger than itself, burning along its entire length. The flame was almost invisible in the smoke.

All the unanswered questions. They would remain unanswered now.

Shean heard something hiss behind her, and whirled about only to see more creatures climbing out of crevices in the stone. It sizzled, glowing faintly in the gloom. She stared at it, feeling cold creep down her back. True stone, like at the school, would have stood it for longer, but even this imitation should have held better against the flame, unless it was hotter than she realized. But for her body it would not matter either way; she was not stone, fake or real, and would not hold at all. She knew what was about to happen. Why were they not attacking? Shean did not want to wait, was not sure she could take it.

Still, she had to recognize that, in a way, she was less afraid than she would’ve expected. She did not look forward to the pain, knowing already what it would be like from the sharing of minds that occurred during the stampede. Yet the circumstances themselves did not feel wrong. Almost as if she had known, as if she was always aware this would be how…

But she had always known. Shean carried the ancestral memory within her — she’d learned to ignore it, as was proper, learned to forget, as far as that was possible. But it still lay there, in her mind, etched permanently, appearing in dreams — the dark night, the white light, the red beams and black feathers… and fear, so much fear. The Affirmation was only a dry reminder of what happened — only words, their power diminished by time. But the memory of the Great Crime lived on; the mistakes, committed then, forever imprinted on those who followed.

They had left their world not only to look for a new, larger home, but also to seek another — a civilization like their own, to speak to and share knowledge, to come together with. Yet for a long while they had only found remains of peoples long dead. By the time they found one living, they were no longer capable of recognizing it, and destroyed it in their ignorance.

Once they learned of what they had done, they broke their ties to the home world, disappearing into a self-imposed exile. Shean grew up knowing not to ask, never to question this decision, or any other for that matter. Someday, when she was an adult, a member of the Academy, then she could ask; then she could know.

That would never happen now.

Thoughts tumbled through her mind, lightning-fast. She was meant to learn from the mistakes of the past; each successive Affirmation hammered the idea further into her head. Well, she would learn now. The colonists erred when they had not tried to communicate — had not spoken to the locals, expecting that if their minds were silent, they had to be hiding something on purpose, and with ill intentions. But from that very experience Shean knew better, and knew that simply not hearing them meant nothing on its own. They certainly seemed aware enough, moving purposefully as they did. Perhaps this was a misunderstanding, too. If only she could talk to them…

Shean had learned the spoken language — all students did, because talking to the deaf would be part of their future duties as members of the Academy. The language her kind used in their thoughts had been itself born out of that speech. There was a time when they had not needed any, before they learned to shield their minds and share only what was necessary. But once that was invented, a language became necessary — a system of symbols that could limit the expression and allow for greater control. Shean knew these symbols, knew what movements could produce the sounds she was accustomed to hearing only in her mind. But her mouth felt sour and unwieldy, half-numbed by the smoke, the lack of clean air confused her thoughts, and she could not remember… but she tried, she tried, in the moments before they reached her —

There it was. Long-forgotten teachings drifted up through the murk. She was out of practice, but it would have to do.

The abortive croaking she produced sounded nothing like words, but at least it halted the creatures. They looked up at the first sounds, then exchanged glances with each other. Shean tried again.

‘Is this…’ A fit of coughing forced her to stop; the beings continued to eye her warily. ‘Is this… retribution?’

At first, nothing happened. The air had begun to sizzle from the heat, distorting the perspective — what little of it could still be made out in the smoke. Shean felt disheartened. This was the language of her kind; why did she assume the creatures could understand it, or any spoken language at all? Perhaps they shared minds, too, just in ways incomprehensible to her kind; or perhaps it was all pointless, and even if they understood, they would not reply — not to her, marred by the Great Crime as she was…

‘They always speak, don’t they? So silent, they are. But at the last, and given time, they do like to speak.’

Shean stared. The sizzling could be their way of laughing, she realized. The voice whistled and slithered like slipping ash, twisting the words until they were nearly unrecognizable — but what she could make out was enough.

She made more effort.

‘Is this… payment? For those… who were here before… what we did to them?’

One of the other creatures angled its head.

‘What did you do to them?’

Shean could tell it would not be long now before she lost consciousness. Perhaps it would be better if she did, if she were not there for the pain… But she had to know. Her own kind had told her nothing, would tell her nothing, now; and at least these beings were willing to speak.

‘We… had killed them,’ Shean muttered. ‘Long ago… our ancestors… didn’t know. Couldn’t hear… And now, you’ve come for us… like we came for them. Is that it?’ She gasped from the smoke again, coughed, righted herself. ‘The judgement?’ The reckoning. Was she right? She was the Directress, she of all people should have known… Yet she told us nothing, nothing.

The beings seemed to consider it.

‘Know of no judgement,’ another creature said at last. ‘No those who were before. All we know is you’re filthy stomping aliens who don’t belong here. And you shall be gone, because this is our land, not yours. You came uninvited, and so uninvited we’ve come, too, to chase you off.’

Shean felt tired beyond measure. This was useless — this was no information at all. She wanted to sleep, wanted the smoke out of her body… would not happen, now.

‘What… what’re you waiting for?’ The words she breathed out were quiet enough that she barely heard them, but the creatures understood.

‘We don’t want you to step on us,’ one explained. ‘But you’re one of the last ones. Will you make it harder? Or can we just get it over with?’

If she and Siel had been let go earlier — if they didn’t get caught in the library — if only… Did the Academy leave, because there was no way for them to save the city? Or was Siel right to be suspicious, to think they would abandon it because it did not matter to them? And where was she, where was Siel, did she escape — or lie dead in one of those streets? Not her, surely not her, but… One of the last ones, they said. Shean’s thoughts were meandering, and it was hard to focus her eyes. Had she dreamed of this? It did feel like it had happened before, like she’d always known…

‘I won’t… make it hard,’ she whispered.

Then the fiery fingers touched her where her heart beat under her skin, and time ran out.