I looked down in disappointment at my abandoned pancakes. Despite any ill will I might hold towards people who would condemn me to exile while dying of sickness, I was absolutely not going to ignore any possibility that innocent bystanders could die, be hurt, or have their property destroyed. It was not certain that such a thing would happen today if I did not act, but there was an undeniable and significant possibility that it might happen. Less people would turn out to view the ceremony than did for yesterday's, but there would still be many, if the spinnerbike was found. And so I had to do all I could to stop that from happening, without delay. Skids, on the other hand...

"I am surprised you are not saying they would deserve it," I said as I followed Skids' fast walk back to my room. Running would get us stopped. "They were all happy to watch yesterday."

"I'm not going to be responsible for anyone dying, regardless of what they'd do to me, or any mage. Especially since..."

"Since what?"

Skids shook dro's head and yanked my room's curtain open for me. "Never mind. Just grab your bag and we'll get out of here."

My precious handbag was in the middle drawer, as promised. I quickly checked inside to ensure everything a young woman might need was still in its place. "Can we get my clothes back from the front desk now?"

"Don't bother. You'll want a proper riding outfit, not a dress."

"What about my scan results?" Despite the critical situation, those were also very important to my future wellbeing.

"Worry about that later. If we don't get back this way, rall will make sure they get to you."

"By courier?"

"By scryer."

"Oh." Of course, if they had magical maps and magical menus, they had magical mail. That gave me an idea, which would have to wait. We had reached the front desk.

"Can I help you?" said the carer at the front desk, somewhat confrontationally. Ra looked younger than Krima, and not as clever.

"Yeah, patient 'Chloe She' is checking out. There's an emergency we need to attend to. I'll send her gown back as soon as possible, and I'll be in touch to get her results and get her clothes back... some time. Alright?"

"Er..." The carer briefly tapped at what I assumed was some kind of scryer, though I could not see from our side of the desk. "You're Skids Dro?"

"Yeah, that's me. We can go?"

"Chloe She is free to leave. You owe a few favours as compensation for the care she received. If she experiences any further symptoms—"

Skids did not have time for that. "Mmhmm, great, thanks." And then dro was leading me out of the clinic by the wrist. "And we're done. You just have to know how to talk to them right. Now, I'll find us the closest place to get you some good gear."

I was again overcome by the fascinating sight of the streets of the hive: splashes of colour and shadow, uniquely shaped structures, a glimpse at more streets above us, unusual people in striking outfits, though far fewer than I remembered seeing out last night. It was as if I was in a dream world, though I had never dreamed anything like this. The most unsettling part of it was that under the bold and misshapen layer of magery, it was all clearly a city where people lived. Nothing the clerics had said or hinted about the dark dwellers had prepared me for that obvious truth. This was a different civilisation, but no less a civilisation than ours.

The quality of 'civilised' was one of very few similarities, however. A notable example of dissimilarity was sound. So many familiar sounds of nature were missing. No birds, no grazing beasts, no wind in the trees. No trees at all, just some shrubs, and instead of real wind there were large humming magical fans. These were almost as big as a house, and were surrounded by a thick hexagonal mesh for safety. The humming of the fans was the main background sound, rather than the more varied turning of wheels on axles punctuated by hissing of steam, punctuated by the groans of expanding or shrinking metal with which I was so familiar. The lack of those sounds in the city made this space feel artificial, even lifeless. Though I could see the signs of life everywhere, to my ears the city did not feel truly lived-in. The feeling was deeply unsettling, though it was less troubling now that I had identified it.

"Got it!" said Skids from beside me, having been working the scryer while I was deep in thought. "It's only one hex out of our way too." Dro took my wrist again and pulled me into a jog along the fake-stone path.

"Are we—"

"Save your breath," Skids interrupted. That was sensible. My questions could wait for a few minutes, and by then they might not need answering.

I concentrated on running, while taking in the sights. Other than vivid patches of colour, the houses all looked the same to me, lacking individual character. They had all been built — or perhaps 'conjured'? — to the same plan. This meant that every house — in this level of the hive, at least — had the same amount of living space. That made sense, given the way mages families worked. That is, families as I knew them did not exist here, if I had understood Skids correctly. Each house would hold some fixed number of adult mages, or some number of carers and their assigned young. Maybe the young were raised in a different type of dwelling in a different part of the hive. I would have to ask about that some other time.

"Here we are," Skids said, slowing enough to turn off the main footpath and approach the door to one of the houses.

"Um..." I had been expecting a store of some kind. Or perhaps a magical clothes-producing... thing, with a strange name.

Skids boldly lead me right into the house and to a bright red cupboard. Dro slid one of its doors to the side, revealing an assortment of garments on hangers. It seemed that clothes storage was universal. "Here, these should be the right size for you," dro said, taking out a dark grey shirt, a deep blue jacket, and trousers to match. The shirt was normal enough, but the jacket and trousers were made of something only reminiscent of shiny leather.

"But.. this is someone's house? These are someone's clothes!"

"Nah, no one's holding a claim to these. It's fine."

"Hey, keep the noise down, I'm hexing," a new voice called from another room.

"Sorry," I said reflexively, at the same time as Skids said, "Oops."

I really wanted to know more about that — about everything, really — but there was no time to ask or to argue. "Alright, I'll wear this," I said in a near whisper. "What about underclothes?" Running in the clinic gown had not been a comfortable experience.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, let's see..." Skids quickly looked through a few basket drawers and pulled out some very short pants and some sort of very short shirt without sleeves, both made of a very soft and stretchy material. "These should do," dro said, remembering to keep dro's voice low.

I took all the offered garments, and Skids directed me to the house's washroom. I divested myself of the shapeless white gown, leaving me wearing only the blue wig, the squishy sandals, the new bandages, and my engagement ring. I carefully peeled back the bandages, revealing unblemished skin. They had worked their magic on my wounds, leaving no trace. I shivered at the thought. If magic had some ill effect on people like me, I would find out soon at this rate of exposure. The magic was not the only disconcerting facet of my absent wounds. Considering all the statutes I had broken, the lack of visible signs of my wrongs made me feel like something was amiss. If for nothing else, I at least deserved punishment for climbing a railway safety fence and jumping onto a train.

I could at least rationalise that giving Skids directions had been an innocent mistake, though that was difficult given the amount of actual harm to the railway which had ensued. My initial magical exposure in Val's Bakery had not been my fault either. Not turning Skids in after that... well there was probably very little I could have done to stop drome, given that I had awoken to drome carrying me, and dro was clearly stronger than me. But jumping onto a train to escape... No, I could and should have found some other way to escape. But for a time, I had lapsed and had utterly failed to consider the law. That was my crime, and it felt wrong to have escaped punishment.

Perhaps in returning to Forrester's Crossing to avert tragedy, I would find an opportunity to face judgement. I had to get there first, which meant getting dressed in a mage's clothes.

I left the ring on, even though it represented a future I doubted I could ever attain. Timothy Douglas had been good to me, so I would not hide his symbol away in my bag. Seeing the ring reminded me that there were kind and trustworthy people in the world. I was still uncertain of the details and the scope of the deception, but I had seen enough to know that the clerics could not have been truthful about magic or mages. The fact that this information would likely have gotten me exiled and dead for no good reason did not sit well with me, but I could not take that out on all the Pure.

Shivering again, from the cold this time, I quickly dressed myself. I had never worn trousers before, but I succeeded in figuring them out without too much difficulty, and fortunately without needing to call for Skids' help. Everything seemed to fit well enough, though the jacket was big around the shoulders. That was better than it being too tight around the waist or chest, so I did not mind too much. I took a quick glance at myself in the mirror. It was odd to see myself in what I considered to be a man's clothes. That was another rule I was breaking, though the punishment for this was not as dire as exile. And seeing myself with blue hair — short spikey blue hair with my own hair compressed underneath like steam in a piston — was downright unsettling.

If my parents could see me like this...

Perhaps they would.

I gave my face a quick wash, but did not spend any time on makeup. I was in a hurry, and my appearance would probably not matter to the task before me. I left the washroom right as Skids returned from another room with dro's arms laden with more items. "Here's boots, and a helmet. Not quite as good as mine, but good enough. Oh and there's socks in the bottom basket, so pick some you like."

I grabbed a pair off the top. They were violet, with a darker pattern of numbers and letters sprinkled all over. Actually, I could not see any actual pattern, but it was not the time to be judging socks. They were made of something other than cotton, which felt odd to my feet. The house's carpet had felt strange too, obviously not being woolen. But none of that really mattered now. Skids helped with the magical boot fastenings, I scooped up the helmet, and then we were off, jogging to the trolley station.

"The next trolley's waiting for us," Skids said as we neared the station. "It's not a busy time, so no one else is in a big rush."

I nodded in return, to save my breath. Running in the robe with squishy footwear had been miserable, but running in trousers with boots up to my knees was a whole new experience which required my full attention. We reached the station without trouble, and slowed down to avoid bowling anyone over. This gave me a brief chance to look around the station and compare it to the one in Forrester's Crossing. Ours was also underground, but not nearly so well lit. The magical self-illuminating, self-updating sign boards seemed like a great improvement too. Our clockwork signage systems were much less flexible and probably required more manual intervention to set up.

"There it is, platform four," Skids said, pointing to our left. "That will take us back to the surface, where we came in. And there will be a spinnerbike waiting for us when we arrive, with an extra aetherbottle. A single one won't get us much past halfway there."

"Did you arrange all that while I was getting dressed?" I asked as we took our seats in the middle of the trolley. There were half a dozen mages already seated.

"Yeah. It's designed to be easy, as it's pretty common for mages to borrow spinnerbikes for surface travel. It's less common during the daytime though. That's to our advantage, as we won't be using up aether on lights."

"Good," I said, for lack of a better answer. I did not have to say any more, as the slightly unnatural voice began announcing our departure. "Uh, can I borrow the back of your scryer for a few minutes?" I asked once the trolley was underway.

"What for?" Skids said as dro started pulling it back out of dro's backpack.

I produced a sheet of paper and a pencil from my handbag. "I just need a hard flat surface to write on. Is that alright?"

"Sure. What're ya writing?"

"A message for Timothy, asking him to heliograph a warning to Forrester's Crossing, telling them that if they find a mage vehicle and try to purify it, it will explode. I do not know if he will do it or if it would work, but it increases our chances of stopping the explosion. If they even find the spinnerbike." We might be going to all this effort for nothing, but the worst case scenario was terrible and all too possible.

"Good idea, but what's a heliograph?"

"Sorry, I forgot you would not know that. It's a form of long-distance messaging, using mirrors to flash sunlight between messaging stations."

"Ah, so that's what the occasional towers beside your railway tracks are for."

"Right," I said, and turned all my attention to writing the message. I kept it as brief as possible, not saying much more than I had told Skids. Too much information would not actually help, and I did not actually know a great deal. The finer details were irrelevant to the decision I hoped Timothy and the clerics could be convinced to make. When I was done I folded the paper and secured it in my handbag.

"How are you going to get it to your Timothy?" Skids asked as dro packed away dro's scryer.

"We will need to go through Deepbloom, so I can drop it in the mailbox. Mail delivery is quite prompt. Or the clerics will examine it directly, which will be even quicker. Though that might get him in trouble. Though that might happen regardless, as he cannot send a heliograph anonymously. But he might be alright, given that he was a close friend of Cleric Quire. Um, can we go through Deepbloom? Or do we have to go around the cities? Actually, are we keeping to the rails or going overland?"

"Overland would be far slower," Skids said. "And through the cities is much faster than around. It's a risk, but I think we can shoot through fast enough that no one will be able to stop us."

"Actually, if we go through Deepbloom, they might heliograph Exaltation so they are ready for us," I said, now quite worried that we might not make it to Forrester's Crossing.

"Will taking a dirt track around the city be any safer?" Skids asked.

"I suppose not, unless we go really far out. And that will be both further and slower, assuming we do not get lost."

"Then we'll try to go straight through," Skids decided. "If we do get caught, maybe we can still get a message sent to Forrester's Crossing."

"If we get caught, we will both be in the situation you were in yesterday."

Skids frowned. "I'm still unclear on what exactly was intended for me. I heard a lot of talk about sending me where I belonged and endless references to purity, but nothing specific."

The 'recorded message' began announcing our arrival at our destination, delaying my answer. It was not a topic I liked to think about, much less give voice to.

Skids stood up early, and we clambered out of the trolley before anyone else could get in front of us. "There's the spinnerbikes," dro said, pointing at a row of two-wheeled contraptions against one wall of the entrance lobby-cave. They were something like thick bicycles: thicker tires, thicker seats, thicker handles, thicker frames. They were clearly different to the bicycles I had seen before, in ways I could not really understand or even describe.

"These are not explosive?"

"There's no inflammable air in these, but I'm not sure how safe a full aetherbottle is. Or an empty one. Probably fine? The conjurers don't like us damaging them. Ours is the one to the far right. Wigs off, and helmets on," Skids said with more cheer than I felt was warranted.

"Er, what happens to this bike once we get yours back?"

"Good question," answered someone who was not Skids.

Skids whirled around to face one of the other mages who had accompanied us on the trolley. A caster, I presumed from the jagged red tattoos and the thick belt holding multiple objects which looked very much like weapons. Actually, one of two casters. "Cards! Spire! Sall followed me?"

"No," said one.

"Actually yes," corrected the other.

"We're here for cross-training, remember?"

"But when we heard what you're up to, we decided to follow you."

"Friends of yours?" I asked Skids.

"Hardly."

"In a manner of speaking," said the first, who was rather tall and wiry.

"Not exactly," said the other, who was very short and compact.

"We're on a deadline," Skids said, deadly serious. "If you're following, then follow. We can talk on the way."

That was news to me. "We can talk while riding?"

"Helmet magic," was all the explanation I got from Skids. "Oh, and here's some goggles. They keep dirt and bugs out of your eyes." Dro handed me the eyewear, similar to dro's own, and climbed astride the spinnerbike. "Hop up behind me, and hold on tight! With your legs, not just your arms."

And then I was on the bike and it was moving and I nearly fell off and everything was disorienting and then we stopped but were also still moving.

I opened my eyes, not remembering screwing them shut. We were on the platform, which was raising us up into daylight. Of course. Everything was fine. Cards and Spire were on a very similar spinnerbike beside ours.

"Race you to the rails?" the tall one said to Skids.

"Better not," Skids says. "I need to go easy for my passenger."

I was intensely grateful for that. The thought of racing over the hills and between the trees through which we'd walked last night was not a pleasant one.

"But once we're on the rails, we can race to Deepbloom," Skids added. "Hey, not so tight!"

"Sorry," I said, realising how tight I was squeezing. "I'm a bit nervous. Racing?"

"Yeah, I can tell. But don't worry, I would be aiming for top speed regardless."

"That isn't helping!" My protests were met with laughter from our surprise travelling companions.

"Go easy, Charity is new to all this."

"Charity," the tall caster repeated. "Cha-ri-ty. Wow, she really isn't a mage."

I understood that sa had determined that my name was too long for a mage, but sa had clearly already known what I was. "How do you know about that?"

"News travels fast, and we already knew Skids' plans to try talking to the... sunnies."

The platform had continued rising until it was level with the ground. It now stopped, and the casters' bike immediately took off with a whine and a whirr. Skids followed at a slightly more sedate pace. Only slightly.

"Sorry about them. They're rather suspicious by nature. Comes from being casters," Skids said, but I heard dro's voice right beside my ears.

"Uh... hello?"

"Yep, I can hear you too. Isn't magic great?"

"It saves us from a lot of yelling," I agreed.

"And pedalling," Skids replied as the spinnerbike angled up a hill and its whine grew louder and deeper.

"So... which of them is which?"

"Which of what? Oh, right. Spire's the short one."

"That's counterintuitive."

"Yeah, some of us get names more as jokes."

"How do you get names? Can I ask why you're called Skids?"

"There's no one set way. Cards is really into card games. I got called Skids after pushing a lot of heavy furniture around."

"After becoming a drone?" I figured. "Less than three years ago?"

"Yeah."

That seemed to be a rather short time to have a name, but maybe that was normal for mages. "What were you called before that?"

"Just a number."

"Oh. Is that usual?"

"Yeah, mages start out with numbers until they pick or get a name."

"And you didn't get a name in your previous role?"

"This is the only name I've had," Skids said a bit too casually.

That was a clear signal. I dropped the topic. "Do you know why Cards and Spire are following you?"

"Yeah, probably. But they'll tell us soon enough. Now get ready for some increased speed!"

We crested the hill and raced down the other side. The trees looked much friendlier in the daylight, and were not close enough together here to pose a hazard. The thing to watch out for was long grass which might be hiding rocks.

After more practice at going up and down hills, I grew less anxious and was less prone to endangering Skids' ribs every time we made a slight turn. The railway cutting was a long gash in the landscape ahead of us, surrounded mostly by relatively empty rolling grassland. To our left, the line pointed towards a flattened region of short grass, shrubs overgrowing neat rows, and occasional decorative trees. There had once been a city there. Now it was just a patch of nature with some leftover order. Even that would be gone after just a few years.

The spinnerbike slowed, then stopped. "Time to dismount," Skids said. The casters were already carefully wheeling their spinnerbike down the slope to the rails, Cards in front and Spire behind. Skids and I were soon copying them. They had already returned to riding by the time we had ours on level ground.

"Will they be a problem?" I asked once we were moving again.

"Nah, it's all good," Skids replied, but I did not quite believe drome.

Not a minute later, Cards' voice issued forth from our helmets. I could tell, because Cards was quicker to speak while Spire's voice was deeper. "Hey back there, drone squad. All settled in?"

"Yes, and don't call us that," Skids shot back. "Or I may be forced to retaliate in kind."

"Ha! And here I was going easy on yall. We know your daymare friend is no seer."

"Can they hear me?" I whispered.

"Nah, only I can, unless you really need to tell them something directly. And at the moment only you can hear me, but I can change that with a snap of my fingers. Well, a wiggle of my fingers, but whatever."

"Good." I did not want the casters listening in on me at all. "What's a daymare? The opposite of a nightmare?"

"No. It's an insult. For people who breed like beasts."

"Oh. That's... stupid."

"Yeah, well... maybe I shouldn't let them talk to you at all."

"Did you hear me?" Cards said, sounding impatient.

"Why are you here, Cards?"

"We heard that you might have lost a valuable prototype," Cards said

"A very valuable experimental spinnerbike, to be exact," Spire added.

"I know exactly where I left it," Skids said.

"But you're not so sure it's still there," Cards said, sa's tone just barely shy of taunting, which meant it was in effect completely taunting.

"Or if it'll stay in pristine condition!" Spire added.

"That's right," Skids agreed. "So what brings you here?"

"That's simple."

"Extremely obvious."

"We're just here to make sure you don't lose any more bikes."

"And to make sure you recover the one you lost."

"Spire means to say the one you've potentially misplaced."

"Yeah, what Cards said."

"So we're here to escort you."

"Just to keep you out of trouble."

"And to provide an extra rider..."

"...so we can get away with an extra bike."

"Cos you can't expect your passenger to learn to ride, not while you're both trying to escape a storm of crossbow bolts."

"Unless you've let the sun get to your head!" Spire finished.

"Thanks for your kind offer. I'll take you up on it. But no unnecessary violence, got it?"

"Yeah, we understand."

"Only necessary violence from us, gentle Skids!"

"Good, then it's settled," Skids said, with carefully enforced calm. I could tell dro was barely holding back at snapping at the caster pair. "Now we absolutely must reach Forrester's Crossing before noon. We reached the rails before eight, so we should make it if we average no less than sixty kilometres each hour. That includes a very brief stop at the station at Deepboom, so Charity can leave a warning message. However, Deepbloom might send a message to Exaltation to prepare to stop us, so you'll need to be prepared to ensure we get through," dro said, uncharacteristically businesslike.

"Got it," Cards replied.

"We'll make it happen, don't you worry," Spire elaborated unnecessarily.

"Great. Now let's keep quiet to preserve power." There was a very brief pause before Skids said, "We can still talk, of course. That uses less aether."

"Really?"

I felt Skids shrug. "Probably not."

"But it uses less of your patience, right?"

"Right."

"Well I shall attempt not to exhaust it with too many tricky questions."

"Thanks," Skids said, sounding amused. "So what's your first question?"

I had a good one ready. "How did you escape yesterday? I know you took Gloria's clothes and hair, but how did you get to that point?"

"Ah, now that is a great question indeed! It was like this..."