“What a shame we weren't there.” Ariel shakes her head, lips narrowed in anger. “I can't believe they attacked you, and for what? The mission reward is mediocre.”

Eje feels there's something more pressing to bring up. “Annya is looking for you two.” She surveys Octave and Salaya with narrowed eyes. “She just told me and Ariel an incredible tale. Can you guess what it was?”

“She found her way down the mountain safely after all?” asks Octave.

“Better yet.” Eje folds her arms and blocks the path leading back up to Blaketik Manor. Ariel doesn't join her but stands to the side, eyes following intently. “She said she saw Salaya falling off the mountain. She yelled, but got no response. Just falling down as though she slipped and fell.”

“I must commend Salaya for her excellent recovery.”

Salaya quivers. “I didn't slip and fall. Tolmin pushed me, and he's dead now. I, well, we killed him.” Her eyes fall. “I'm tired, Octave. All that fire is long since quenched. Just tell them.”

“Tell us? About how Octave can apparently sprout wings and fly like a bat?”

Octave's feet shift but she doesn't move. “I was hoping to keep it a secret, or as secret as possible. Once these sorts of things get out, they can lead to unhealthy speculation.”

“So you admit it's true?” demands Ariel. “Are you going to show us?”

Octave looks around to make sure they aren't being watched. “What happened to those fine men? Did Salaya scare them back to Stonewatch?”

“Last I saw, they were fleeing the mountain. Exhausted but running.”

“Good.” Octave removes her sleeved tunic, taking care with each arm. A black shirt rests in tatters on her shoulders, skin poking through around the back. She takes a breath and her collar bulges and ripples. Wings burst out from her back, and they are wings from a bat like Annya said, but a bat larger than any found in the natural world. No, not a bat. As they unfurl and flex, tips sharp, sinews pulling the wing flaps tauter than a tent, Eje realises she's looking at something described only in the oldest of folklore.

“Those are celestial wings.” says Eje, with a more accusatory tone than she intended. Awe would be misplaced. Octave bows her head slightly and furls them. They fold and bend into her back and then they're gone. Eje runs around behind her to confirm her skin shows no scars or bumps where the wings once cast a shadow over them all. “What are you?”

“Nothing nearly as supernatural as you're accusing me of being.”

“So where did the wings come from?”

“You may as well ask where my arms and legs come from. They are a part of me. What more can be said?”

“I've heard of bird worshippers from the south who claim they can fly.” says Ariel. “I've never heard of bat worshippers, but it might be related. I think on some level we all yearn to sway in the wind. What was it like, Salaya?”

Salaya smiles as her eyes drift skyward. “Sublime. I didn't think it at the time, but now I want to fly again. There's something about it that draws you back. Doubly so when flying saves your life.” Ariel's gaze follows, and soon they're both staring up into the vast blue.

Octave interrupts, holding up a pair of black eggs that would put any hen to shame. “In the meantime, we're finished here. Why don't we give Rol his artifacts and see what we get?”

“Ok.”

Eje looks to Ariel and Salaya walking by her left and right. Unbelievable. “Hold on, you can't just accept that, can you? Wings are like arms and legs? It's absurd. Unthinkable. Preposterous.” She's spluttering, her indignation growing as Octave regards her with head cocked slightly to one side. “That was an evasion, not an answer.”

“The world is a strange place, Eje.” Ariel looks back at her. “ There's an entire sect of the Mage Guild devoted to finding ways to fly. How should we be surprised that someone has succeeded? Our limits cannot be qualified, even in the farthest reaches of the world.” Salaya gives her a more consolatory look but nods in agreement. Of course she does. She can't very well go accusing the person who saved her life, can she? Ariel shouldn't be this strange, though it wouldn't be the first time. Eje grumbles but follows them up the path from the foot of the Bulwark to the manor. “By the way, how many did you get? Can I take a closer look?” Octave hands the two eggs to her, then a third. “They're heavy.” Ariel puts two into her pocket but examines the third, turning it over in her hand. “Stone, but what's the significance?”

“Maybe they were laid by that golem.”

The door is answered, not by the mute butler, but by Rol Blaketik himself, looking plump and proud, beaming through his heard. Annya, Brogan, and Telemius stand by his side, all three with their eyes fixed on Octave. Eje guesses they haven't told Rol but expect some sort of explanation in return. “Ah, there you are. You four were my favourites after your answers, and I hear you've had some degree of success.” Rol's eyes twinkle. “Come in.” He leads them down a corridor. For a moment, Eje thinks he's taking them back to the dining room, but she can't quite remember the path. Stopping in front of a door, he turns to them. “You three will have to wait outside, I'm afraid. I am again awfully sorry to hear of what happened to your friend, and I will personally cover his funeral expenses. First, however, we have business to attend to.” He beckons them and Ariel follows first, then Octave, Salaya, and lastly, fuming quietly, Eje. Once again her team has acted abnormally, and once again she's been left out for having a normal disposition. Generous, even. If she were less understanding, she would no doubt have accused Octave of something nasty by now. Outnumbered, Eje decides to let it pass for now.

Inside is a desk. Behind it, bookshelves stretch from the floor to the ceiling. A massive window takes up much of one wall and lights the room. “My office.” Rol bows slightly. “Now, what did you find?”

“You said an artifact.” says Ariel. “How many were there?”

“Ah.” Rol purses his lips. “That I don't know. Kio was awfully vague about the whole thing. Did you find two?”

Ariel nods and puts the two eggs down on the desk. Rol pounces on them, mouth open. “Yes, yes. Finally. I have them back.” He looks up from his crooning. “You must be curious as to what they are. Black stone eggs? An artifact? Has he gone mad? Well, the answer may be yes.” Rol laughs. “But with these, my mental state matters not. Observe.” He takes an iron hammer from under the desk and hits an egg with a crash. It cracks. Salaya takes a step back. He hits it again, two-handed, and the desk shudders under the weight of the blow. Another swing, and the crack is large enough that he can pry the stone apart. Gems spill out, glittering white gems that catch and refract the light at thousands upon thousands of cut angles. “Fantastic. Dazzling. Resplendent!” Rol can scarcely contain his glee as he counts all six of them, each the size of a cat's eye. He strikes at the second. It gives way in a pile of rock dust and red gems similarly cut. Six again. “The finest stones from the deepest mines! Diamonds you can keep. Ugly little things they are. These are firegems, formed at unimaginable depths where the earth blazes with fire and heat. Under these conditions, fire gems can be formed, but finding those that have come to the surface is a rare treat indeed. Each gem here took a mineral mage countless hours of deep work in cramped spaces.”

“What will you do with the gems, sir?” asks Ariel.

“Isn't it obvious? I'm taking them into my care. War may be coming, and the nation's future rests uncertain. In these times, it's prudent to keep your assets safe. Safe and close.” He reaches into his desk and hands them a small brown sack. “Your earnings for completion of the mission. It's all there – don't worry. And of course I'll sign your logbook.”

“What was that about?” They walk away from the manor and the setting sun into Arrow City, looking to hire a carriage back to Lakeview. Annya and her team already left without so much as saying goodbye. They must be the normal ones. It's Eje who's stuck with the lunatics. “That maze, and the puzzles. What was it all for?”

“Rich people often come up with elaborate ways to hide their wealth.” says Octave. Eje can't deny it, though she itches to.

“That's it?” demands Salaya. “Ebin is dead. So is Tolmin. He must have known something about the wealth that was hidden in that mountain. And all for what? So Rol could gather up his firegems and go into hiding? Is that all lives are good for? Did they deserve to die for this?”

“It's terribly unfair.” agrees Eje.

“If we had stopped to talk about this earlier,” says Octave, “we could have demanded a higher commission before we handed back the artifacts. It's my fault; I should have said something.”

“It's not about the money. It's...it's about what's fair. What's just. Wasn't that something we kept getting asked? About justice? What punishment does Rol deserve for this?”

“Fairness, or want for it, will only hinder you.” says Octave. “Nobody deserves the god of death, but we all meet her just the same. Our lives all hang on a knife's breadth; one slip in the wrong direction and anyone can suffer a slashed throat. If you try to find rationality or justice in it you'll drive yourself mad. I suspect the golem, if it understands nothing else, would comprehend that. Kio didn't care. He only cared about keeping his hoard safe. Rol doesn't care now that he's got it. Unless you want to go back and rob him, and I would sympathize if you do, there's nothing more for us.”

“I can't accept that.” says Salaya, her eyes on the dirt road leading back down to the city. “There must be justice somewhere in this world.”

“After all that talk about justice and meting out punishments, we've stumbled on the truth. If you want justice, you'll have to create it yourself.” Octave turns to Ariel. “Speaking of which, what happened to that third egg I gave you?”

Ariel's grins impishly. “I was suspicious when I examined that egg. So I decided to take a little risk. I wouldn't do it normally, but watching a man die affects you. It reminds you that the importance of life lies in both the fragility and strength of our choices.” She reaches into her pocket and holds out the third egg, black as the approaching night. “Like you said, if you want justice, you'll have to create it yourself.”