Some time in the two years between her departure from Damville and her arrival at the palace city, Taryn had 'lost' her empathy and her ability to read thoughts. In her failed attempts to regain those lost abilities she learned that they weren’t the only reading abilities she had. The Sentry, the Survey, the Inquisitor, the Shadow and the Echo were all reading techniques she’d discovered and perfected over the past seven years.

Taryn headed north along the Prince’s Fall, the major road that cut a straight path between the palace and the city gates in Pine Keep. Closing her eyes, she activated her Survey over the sector. Over a hundred thousand mental flames erupted into the darkness of her mind’s eye. They disappeared almost as soon as they’d appeared, leaving behind a lone cluster of three. Several hundred yards to the south and west of her: that’s where the boys were and she knew that in a blink.

She turned off the Fall and found a less populated street where she could linger to finish her work without suspicion. The boys always returned to the bakery with minor scrapes and bruises from their ‘adventures’ so she made a point of checking in on them regularly. With another blink, images of their hands full of stones were superimposed over the walls and windows around her. Here was where it became challenging.

Taryn walked slowly as she watched through their eyes and listened through their ears. They teased each other, each trying to talk the other into their favorite game. When their gazes rested on the wooden fence, Taryn lowered her eyes to the floor. Intellectually, she knew the fence wasn’t really in front of her. She knew the taunts weren’t being screamed directly into her ears. But the mind was a powerful instrument and highly susceptible to self deception, especially when Shadowing multiple minds.

The wooden fence posts were rotted and the timber was full of gaps and holes that could easily be widened by three very determined boys. Through one especially large hole, an unkempt lawn could be seen. An old dog napped in the shade of a withering tree. It was a shriveled and bony thing; certainly too weak to get up and chase its own tail. But Taryn didn’t like how its head always snapped up when the boys came around. She feared one day it would find the energy to try to chase them if they ever got a chance to pepper it with rocks. Then they’d find out if the rope that was tied around the dog’s neck was the same rope that was tied around the tree. As long as Taryn was around they would never get that chance.

They usually tried to throw their rocks over the fence. They made a competition of it, glancing through the hole to judge their success. Taryn usually warned them off before they ever did any damage or made sure that they always missed. But it seemed Andon was feeling especially bold today. She heard him taunting Kaz into squeezing himself through the hole.

‘Boys.’ Taryn always used Vares’s voice when she Echoed. It was one they were never likely to hear outside of these talks with her.

“Oh, no!” she heard Gerrie say.

“Hurry, Kaz!” Andon screamed. He closed his hands tight around his fistful of stones and shoved his friend forward. “The Beast is here!”

‘Andon, stop. This is serious.’

With one leg successfully hooked through the fence, the playful smile waned from Kaz’s lips. “What do you mean?”

“Is this a new trick?” Andon asked.

‘No tricks,’ Taryn Echoed. ‘Galen is trying to find you. I need you to let him.’

“Why?” Andon asked. “What’s going on?”

‘Something is happening on the Fall. It could get violent and spread through the sector. Galen is coming to get you. He’ll make sure you’re safe. Please, don’t give him any trouble.’

Kaz tried to pull his leg free. The wood snagged on his trousers and held and he began to panic. “I’m stuck!”

Gerrie moved to tug at his leg. Andon hooked his arms under his shoulders and reared back.

Taryn pushed at the wood around Kaz’s leg and guided the member safely from the splintered jaw. The three boys spilled into a pile of sharp joints knocking into bony limbs. They broke apart with shoves and groans but there were no serious injuries. They’d have a better chance of success with the larger hole Taryn’s rescue had made but that was tomorrow’s problem.

She set her Survey to locate Galen. ‘Saline Park is about a five minute walk from where you are. Galen will meet you there in about ten. Do you think you can make it there?’

“You’re leaving?” Gerrie asked.

‘I will stay until Galen finds you. But I have to try to make sure no one else gets hurt.’

“Take me with you,” Andon said. “I can help.”

‘I can’t. Andon,’ Taryn Echoed over his justifications. She focused her thoughts so that he alone would hear her words. ‘Gerrie is afraid. And Kaz needs your help to keep him safe.’

Andon glanced up at the brothers, saw little Gerrie fighting despair and Kaz bent over him, a protective arm around his shoulders. “Until Galen finds them,” he agreed. “Then can I came?”

Taryn felt she knew where his attachment to her came from, but now was not the time to address it. ‘Do you still remember how to make a beacon?’ she asked the three of them.

Through Kaz’s eyes she watched Gerrie squint and scrunch up his face. In her mind she saw his mental flame erupt into a violent burst that covered a few city blocks.

‘That was perfect, Gerrie. I’ll be able to find you in an instant if you get into trouble,’ she assured him.

“Can I at least have a little fun with Galen?” Andon pouted as he led the party away. “Just a little bit?”

Taryn searched the sector for the mental flames of a mass gathering. There was a huge cluster still a ways off up the Fall. It didn’t seem like they’d been anywhere near the boys for a couple of hours. ‘Just make sure you don’t leave the park without him.’

* * * * *

The Saint’s Pilgrimage was an ancient form of Purification. The zealots used to craft hefty wooden wheels and tie their victims to it at the wrists, waist and ankles. Sometimes they branded the victim’s extremities with symbols that paid tribute to their gods. The wheel was then rolled across a level surface along a path lined with faithful witness who would utter prayers and make supplication to the gods to expel the mutant spirit. But there were no gods. The Saint’s Pilgrimage had failed to cure a single mutant so the practice died out centuries ago. Yet the Purist had managed to revive it among the counties in recent years.

The modern-day Pilgrimages were not held in the spirit of old. They traded faithful believers for vengeful masses. And it wasn’t prayers they hurled. When Taryn first started getting reports from the counties, the spectators were armed with eggs and rotted produce, items of refuse and the like. That covered most of what Taryn saw through the eyes of the spectators gathering along the Prince’s Fall. Some of them spat, yelled curses and jeers. Those didn’t worry her. But now, citizens of the kingdom liked to bring rocks to these Pilgrimages; knives, arrows. In the counties, these ceremonies had killed at least a dozen mutants in the last few months. Now it was in her city.

Taryn settled into her vantage point on the rooftop of an opera house deep in the Manor District, far from the maddening crowd. Left alone, she would be able to focus on observing and interacting through her abilities alone.

Marshall First Class Khal led the procession. He was flanked by a pair of Staff Marshals. Liha Douglas’s mind had an unsettled presence that would make her easy to find again in the sea of flames and Taryn trusted Sunil Jemir would remain in close proximity to the other leaders. Together, the three of them surveyed the crowd, secured the path and supervised the team of four Corporals and Specialist responsible for controlling the wheel over the slight decline of the Fall. Taryn was astounded to see so many stars and stripes leading the charge in such a blatant violation of Viktor’s Provident Ruling. Why were they so confident that no one would call them out over it? Had the Purist faith truly infiltrated the city’s leaders so thoroughly?

The small pebbles nestled in the grooves of the roof tiles around her began to tremble and Taryn told herself not to allow herself to get angry. If she conjured a rage-storm in the middle of the city, she would lose a good deal of Vares’s trust. And she didn’t have enough of it to begin with. Not to mention that the poor man, bound and gagged to that death trap, would likely be blamed. So she took a deep breath and returned her focus to resolving the issue of the Yellow Alert.

There was a small risk of becoming ensnared and discovered by Inquiring after his life story, so she only touched the mind of the mutant as much as was necessary to learn his name. With Denan’s flame and identity anchored in her mind’s eye, she turned her attention to the crowd. She could only focus her Shadow on four minds at a time. So she had to experiment to find viable vantage points that could paint her as complete a picture of the scene as possible. She cycled through a few dozen minds and noticed that the ceremony itself was not the only bit of Purist drivel that had crept into her city. Several of the minds she’d Shadowed, and many of the faces she’d seen through the Shadow, were covered in Lorric masks: blue homages of the Price and purple likenesses of the Saint. Taryn had to spare a few thoughts to investigate.

A quick Survey brought her to the mind of a street peddler who’d moved further down the Fall to hawk his wares to the thickening crowd. He did not betray himself to be a threat; just a local costume maker who saw an opportunity to unload some surplus merchandise. Still… cowards became bold when they hid behind masks. Taryn made note of the seller’s mind for later Inquiry – in case she needed to put a face to every mask sold.

The Guard had cleared the steep ramp that marked the divide between the Manor and Market Districts. At the pace the procession moved, Taryn estimated it would be another several minutes before they reached the top of the ramp. A giant wheel could roll out of control on a ramp like that. Then she could make her move. In the meantime, she needed to eliminate the immediate threat posed by those armed spectators.

She focused on anyone within throwing distance of the wheel. The crowd offered her ample cover. They jostling against one another and were none the wiser when she knocked the dangerous missiles from hands and kicked them away. The ones she missed before they could be launched through the air missed their mark. It was all going quite well until the sound of breaking glass rang above the jeers of the crowd.

Taryn cycled her Shadow through mind after mind until she found one with a fixed gaze on Denan. Dark spots stained the wheel where glass bottles had shattered near his shoulder. The sleeve of his blue tunic was slick with moisture and Taryn could see where a flying shard had cut his lightly stubbled chin. Blood dripped onto his chest and Taryn looked away to force back the wave of nausea that struck her.

She searched for a different point of view.

A heckler following behind the wheel spared a few moments to glance at the pile of broken glass at her feet, swimming in a pool of some unidentifiable liquid. The amount of glass left behind told Taryn that multiple containers had been lobbied, with only a few meeting their mark. The fact that they had all gathered in the same general areas suggested that it had been a concerted effort. Taryn wasn’t sure why but that prospect worried her.

She shifted the focus of her Survey to those glass throwers but was unable to find any. Before she could begin to think of what that could mean –

“Hold!”

Denan squirmed and pulled at his binds, disrupting the balance and trajectory of the wheel to such a degree that it began to tip and he started to fall, face-first into the cobbled surface of the Prince’s Fall. Taryn sent her power out to catch it, unsure if the alarmed bluebacks would move in time to cover her actions. Whatever the consequences were for her, they were worth a man’s life. Luckily, three of the four sprang into action and Taryn was able to right the wheel without inciting a panic.

SMS Douglas struck Denan in the ribs. She pointed a finger in his face and said something to him but none of Taryn’s Shadows could hear what. Since the wheel was now perpendicular to the Fall and the four young Guardsmen had to undertake the arduous task of setting it right, Taryn surmised the Staff Marshal wanted to share her displeasure.

Denan screamed through his gag and resumed his squirming. When Douglas moved to strike him a second time, her comrade stayed her hand.

SMS Jemir bent to whisper something in Douglas’s ear and she reached to wipe some of the spilled liquid from Denan’s face. She brought the fingers up to her nostrils for a sniff and begin scanning the crowd, both hands on her sword.

A theory began to form in Taryn’s mind. To test it, she made her own sweeping pass over the crowd. She immediately lighted on a pair of masked spectators far outside of throwing range; one held a flickering match and the other a doused arrow. Taryn scrambled to search the minds surrounding them.

Just a little ways off, she found a thick-bellied drunk with a large mug of ale and no balance. Even with cover she would be hard pressed to make this look plausible. But, she reminded herself, a man’s life was on the line.

Taryn exerted enough power to pull the glass from the drunkard’s grip, planning to smash it against the archer’s hand and tip the liquid onto the flame. She didn’t expect the drunk to resist her.

His grip tightened around the handle as the mug began to move and he was able to pull it back. But the fluid within was already on its way. It soared in an amber arc and splashed against the back of the archer’s neck before he could draw his bow. He jerked in surprise, accidentally elbowing one of his neighbors. The violent shove he got in return threw him to the ground and broke his bow.

The masked arsonist helped the archer to his feet and both fled the scene, drawing the eyes of the marshals. MFC Khal sent a pair of Corporals after them but Taryn knew the threat hadn’t gone. There had been more than one jar of liquid, so there had to be more than one archer. And if Taryn knew anything about archers its that they liked a nice, high vantage point. So she sent her Survey to rooftops within shooting range.

She found three more sets of masked arsonist; their arrowheads already lit and their bows fully drawn. With no time to destroy the arrows in a manner that would preserve her anonymity, Taryn redirected them instead. A slight nudge here or there so that they wouldn’t fly wildly into the crowd and bury themselves into a bystander. If the archers hadn’t been bent on murder, Taryn might have been impressed with their skill. Even with her slight diversions, one arrow struck the wooden spoke between Denan’s splayed legs. A second thudded right above his head and the third sailed clean through the space between the spokes to narrowly miss the following heckler and light the fluid spilled in the street.

As the spectators shrank back and marveled at the fire show, Khal called the Pilgrimage to an end. On his order, the bluebacks lay the wheel flat on its back and began cutting Denan loose. He signaled to others scattered amidst the crowd and they broke cover to disperse the gathered mass, with some heading off in the directions the arrows had come from.

Taryn pulled out of the minds of the crowd and gave herself a moment in her own skin. She’d had an easy session that morning, so she wasn’t in danger of over-exertion. She’d made it this far without anyone suspecting the presence of another mutant and she was far enough away from the mad scene to be safe if that changed. After a few breaths to calm her racing heart, she Shadowed the minds of the Corporal who cut the ropes that bound Denan to the wheel and the Specialist who threw water over him to rinse away the flammable liquid. Through their eyes, she saw Denan’s left hand go free, then his waist. He used his partial freedom to pull the gag from his mouth.

Then the Corporal made his first mistake.

He turned his back to Denan. The only parts of the mutant Taryn could see now were his fee as the Corporal bent to loose them from their binds. The Specialist had taken a break to chug what was left in his canteen so all Taryn saw on his end was the sky and a few clouds. Then Denan’s left foot was freed. And the Corporal made his second mistake.

He crossed over to stand between Denan’s legs so he could reach his right leg. That placed the sword hanging at his right hip in Denan’s direct line of sight.

Now Taryn could see what kind of man he was.

As soon as he had both feet free, Denan swung his leg up to kick the Corporal in the face.

The young man reared back, his arms flailing as he lost his balance and fell back. Taryn knew that his nose was broken. The smell of fresh blood filled his nostrils and she had to throw a tower over his mind before her stomach clenched and her vision began to blur red.

It took her several breaths to clear the metallic stench from her mind. As soon as she was able, she chose to jump back in through SMS Jemir’s point of view. Terrified of what might have happened in her brief incapacitation.

In addition to Jemir, five bluebacks had surrounded Denan. The mutant himself squatted over the wheel, pulling blindly at the rope that still kept his right hand bound while his gazed darted between six swords drawn against him. All around them the crowd watched with wide eyes and slack jaws.

MFC Khal was the first to take a step toward the trapped mutant.

“Stay back,” Denan cried, and thrust his free hand in the senior Marshal’s direction. He brandished the appendage at any of the bluebacks who tried to get close to him, sweeping over the gathered crowd. A clamor of panicked moans and gasps rose from the spectators and some of them started to break way, shoving each other aside and working their fears into a lather.

“He’s had two inhibitor doses today,” MFC Khal assured his team. “It’s just an empty threat.”

That was all the bloody-faced Corporal needed to hear to make his third mistake. He charged forward, sword raised.

Denan cringed.

And Taryn decided that he did not deserve what awaited him in the palace dungeons. She pulled the weapon from the blueback’s grip and sent it into Denan’s hand.

He looked more surprised than the gathered troops and in the few seconds it took the bluebacks to recover, Denan had cut himself free and run into the crowd.

Now the spectators were panicking in earnest. They ran, they screamed, they shoved each other down. Taryn spent the next ten minutes trying to keep them from killing each other. She unlocked and unbarred nearby shop doors so they could escape the madness. She rolled the fallen to the edge of the street so they wouldn’t get trampled. She may have caused others to trip over them but it helped some of them remember that they were civilized and realize that the danger had passed. There were so much chaos seen from so many minds, Taryn knew she couldn’t possibly get them all.

Soon, the bluebacks recovered enough to take charge of the panic. So she left the city’s fate to them and left her quiet perch to take on the job of changing Denan’s.

* * * * *

She found him cowering in a Market District alley east of the Fall.

A thorough Survey identified the flames within Pine Keep that belonged to members of the City Guard. She kept her mind open to them as they moved. Their patrol routes would bring a couple of them within view of the alleyway in a few minutes so Taryn had to act fast. She emerged from her hiding spot above him – and quickly shrank back.

Denan was not alone.

A stocky man with a mask of the Prince crept in from the west end of the alley. He tip-toed from one possible hiding place to another, peering in and around the various obstructions – a metal dumpster the city had yet to empty, an outdoor privy a colony of flies had made their home, a locked storage shed.

Denan rose from among the wooden crates too large for the storage shed. He raised that same threatening hand toward the newcomer. “Don’t come any closer.”

“Is that any way to greet the man responsible for your release?” The masked man slowly removed his mask to reveal a ruddy, smiling face. At the same time, his other hand moved to lift the hem of his tunic. The black ink inscribed around his hairy navel was of a six-pointed star. “I’m an agent of the LIGHT. I’m here to help.”

Though Denan was reassured enough to withdraw his arm back, alarms were sounding in Taryn’s mind. She didn't have to read this man to know he was lying. She knew better than anyone that the LIGHT and its mission were dead. So why was he impersonating them? And why was Denan reassured?

“That was your doing?” Denan asked. “I was nearly killed back there!”

“We were never going to set you on fire. We just needed to convince the Guard otherwise. It was the best we could do on such short notice.” The impostor stepped closer, rummaging through a bulky messenger’s bag hanging at his waist before presenting Denan with a note. “Be there by dawn.”

“No,” Denan said. “This is where I was arrested!” He threw the note in the imposter’s face. Its tranquil descent a stark rebellion against his outrage.

“You came through the wrong gate. The city may seem like one large unit but its actually five distinct sectors; three of which have a 1443 Notwen. Luckily, Larisport is just a single hop east. Not so luckily, I can’t cross over with you right now.” The impostor collected the note and shoved it into the bag. Then he gave the bag to Denan. “There’s a change of clothes in here and some money for food. There’s also a map in case you get lost again. I suggest you study it. Stay out of trouble. We’ll have an agent at the fins to let you through at midnight. Don’t show up before then,” he warned.

The warm welcome of the masked impostor had been enough to raise Taryn’s suspicions about Denan. The reference to the LIGHT and the religious symbol the impostor presented as proof may have bought them some hard scrutiny from her but she wouldn’t have been too motivated to dig deeper. These people seemed to be interested in helping mutants and she couldn’t stand against them for it. But the address sealed both of their fates.

“I will see you at dawn,” the impostor said. He donned his mask as he backed out of the alley the same way he’d come. “You’re almost home, brother.”

Taryn waited as Denan traded his soiled shirt for a clean one. He found a bag of coins, counted it, then tucked it into his trousers. He also found a jar of skin paint, which he rubbed over the back of his left palm to conceal the two red ‘x’s that marked him as a mutant with a criminal record.

He stepped out of hiding and, after a quick glance after the impostor, headed east out of the alley.

‘Not that way,’ Taryn warned him, for the bluebacks were well on their way now.

He fell still, his gaze turning up and around like an animal caged. Finding nothing, he backed away from the eastern opening and headed west.

‘They’ll get you there as well.’

“Alright, show yourself, or I’ll level this entire place and do it for you.” His useless hands were up again, only he didn’t know where to point them.

‘Go ahead, then.’

“I’m not joking here. I’ll really do it,” he said.

‘Then do it.’

He continued to look around for a while, pointing his hands at everything and nothing all at the same time. “I’m going to give you one last chance.” He said. His voice had lost much of its tenor. “Show yourself.”

Taryn considered the items in the alley. The dumpster and privy were both city property. Vares would never let her hear the end of it if she destroyed them. On the other hand, the shed was someone’s personal property and not so easily replaced. The crates as well were likely tied to a family’s livelihood. She couldn’t use those either.

So she changed tactics. She lifted a crate until it was about five feet in the air. The slight strain on her power told her that it had some weight to it. She sent it flying at Denan, slamming it into his chest and pinning him to the wall.

He pushed.

She pushed harder. ‘When you’re making threats,’ she advised him, ‘you need to be prepared to carry them out. Otherwise, you lose all negotiating power.’

“So, you’re another agent of LIGHT, then?” his voice came out in a strain against the weight on his lungs. “If you people really want to help me, you’ve got a funny way of going about it. I need to get out of here.”

Taryn set her will upon three more crates. She lifted them to form a stairway onto the roof of the building across from her and dropped the one held against Denan’s chest at its base. ‘Climb.’

“Where – ”

‘Do you want to stand around talking to yourself like a crazy person or do you want to get to a place where people aren’t trying to burn you alive?’ The bluebacks were almost on them. ‘Now, Denan! Or all of this will have been for nothing.’

He jumped, hoisted and scampered his way up. Taryn released each crate as he passed. Her efforts were nearly wasted as the pair of bluebacks peered into the alley at the sound of the wood hitting the floor. They drew their swords and moved in at a snail’s pace to investigate.

Denan was still close to the ledge, watching them from above as if the last hour hadn’t happened. Too late, he started to back away.

‘Don’t.’ This tactic only worked because middlings rarely bothered to look up when searching for fugitives. The afternoon sun was still high so Denan’s unkempt head wouldn’t cast a noticeable shadow – as long as he remained still. ‘Movement will only draw their attention.’

From her nest across the alley, Taryn could see sweat run down his reddened brow. Brown eyes darted to and fro. His chest heaved with growing frequency. The bluebacks were still only halfway through and it didn’t look like Denan would last long enough for them to get bored and leave.

‘I’m sure you have questions. I’ll try to answer a few. I am a mutant, just like you are. I can’t read thoughts and you can’t project so this will be a one-sided conversation. That also means that you’ll have no way of knowing if anything I tell you is true or not. You’ll just have to trust me. I won’t be able to help you if you move.’

Despite her words, she could see the strain in his face as he tried to send his worried thoughts to her. She tried to guess at what they were and assure him as best as she could.

‘You might be thinking you can out run them and sneak past the city gatehouse now that all the patrols are combing the streets for you. But that will not work. Your empty threats might be enough to get you past most bluebacks but you wont stand a chance against the city’s Black Knights. If you’ve heard anything about them, I can assure you that they are lies. The Black Knights are the monarchy’s secret weapon against mutants and they are specially trained to stay that way.

‘One of them is waiting for you at the gate in case you try to escape. A second Knight is hidden in the Manor District to capture you if you are foolish enough to rob anyone there. The third stands at the palace gate. So no matter what you decide to do, you will be captured without my help. Where’s the harm in trusting me?’

Denan didn’t take long in deciding that there wasn’t.

Forty-seven. Taryn counted Denan’s frantic breaths as she kept her mind on the patrols scattered throughout the city and her eyes on the worried mutant standing conspicuously on a rooftop above them. The forty-eighth was pushed out with a heavy sigh after the marshals had sheathed their weapons and resumed their search of the busy streets of Pine Keep.

‘Stay on the rooftops and head south. I know a place where you can hide.’

After a brief moment of his own internal debate, he became very compliant. He allowed Taryn to lead him from one rooftop to another. She supported him with a little extra lift whenever he had to leap across a particularly broad stretch of open air. He sprinted forward as she directed; stopped to lay flat when she commanded it. Their final destination was in the heart of the city’s Lower District, and that is where his trust in her failed him.

The jump she asked him to make now would take him from the two-story structure of an abandoned paper mill to the single-story attachment that had once been the owner’s home. It was hardly a jump at all. But…

“That doesn’t look very sturdy,” he said.

Wooden beams and rafters could be seen through the large gaps in the grey slate roof tiles, to say nothing of the dangers that lurked in the darkness beyond.

‘Have I ever steered you wrong?’ Taryn Echoed. ‘Trust me. No one will come looking for you here.’

And on her word, he leapt down. The roof trembled beneath his weight but it didn’t give. Laughing to himself, he moved to step off – and the shingles caved in. He cried out in surprise as he fell; almost two seconds before Taryn caught him and set his feet on solid ground.

“Thank you,” he said once he’d caught his breath. He looked up and could see dots of light above, but all around him was pitch black. He had no idea he was in a basement five stories below ground.

‘You know, it always surprises me when I meet a mutant who is willing to just trust a strange voice in their head,’ Taryn mused. ‘Is that something they teach out in the counties?’

“Poke fun at me all you want. I told you that roof was unstable. Now get me out of here.”

‘I mean, I do this every day, and even children know better than the put that much trust in a stranger so quickly.’

“You’re right,” he conceded. “The naive son of a farmer can’t navigate the mean streets of a big city. You’ve made your point. You’ve had your laughs. Please, just get me out of here. This place is a death trap.”

‘No.’

“Wha- What do you mean, no? I can’t stay here.”

‘You won’t. Not as long as you can answer my questions.’

“Answer your questions? What kind of sick game are you playing here? Let me out!”

It was too dark for her to see anything through her Shadow, so she had to rely on her other senses. She could hear his breath in quick huffs. She heard feet shuffling against a dirt floor and saw his flame move around the edge of the small room. He was looking for a way out, and Taryn let him search. The owner of the paper mill had been executed several years ago when it was discovered that he’d been using this room to trap the runaway children of Pine Keep’s Lower District. When they learned what he’d forced them to do, the city left the place to rot. None of those children had ever found their own way out. Denan wouldn’t either.

Taryn took the time to delve into the pulse of his flame and learn the truth for herself.

She rushed through the memories of the early years of his life; he’d grown up the fourth son of a farmer so he’d had to find a trade. He spent seven years as a blacksmith’s apprentice and by the time he’d mutated at twenty-five, he and his wife, Shella, had two small children with a third on the way. He’d just completed his journeyman days and had secured a loan to open up his own guild-backed forge. He was well on his way to being a respected member of society.

But mutants could not own businesses. And they certainly weren’t allowed to be employed as anything as prestigious as a blacksmith. They would have lost their livelihood and been bankrupt into begging. So Denan and his wife had agreed to keep his mutation a secret. He was a weak enough mover that accidents wouldn’t be catastrophic. They’d even found a black market dealer who traded in domestic inhibitor doses.

They never considered how much a five-year old child could overhear, or how much little boys liked to brag about their fathers.

They lost everything and were run out of town.

He found work on a farm. They moved in to a small hut at the edge of town. They never quite had enough but it was an honest, peaceful life. And they were together; that’s all Denan cared about.

Until the children started having trouble at school and their lives crumbled again. Then the baby developed a cough. Denan had begged and promised to work off the cost of the medication. But he was a mutant. That was all anyone cared about. To this day, he didn’t regret the theft. His darling girl was alive and well. That was all he cared about.

He was sentenced to a year in prison and fined six months’ wages. Shella visited once or twice a month. She’d taken odd jobs around town, only making enough to keep the family from starving. For seven months he begged her to leave him; to start her life anew as a widow without the stigma that came with being a mutant’s wife. He couldn’t bear to see his family suffer for him and he promised to join her after his time was served, his debt paid. For seven months she refused. He admitted that a part of him wasn’t sure if he could keep that promise and suspected that a part of her feared that she would never see him again if she left him. It took a near prison escape and an extended sentence for her to finally agree.

Then one day a representative from an organization operating out of the palace city reached out to him about a program that could get him justice and help him get his life back. They paid his fine to start, and secured his early release. The representative had the same six-pointed star inscribed on the inside of his wrist. Denan didn’t want to return to his family until he had something more than a stigma to give them. So he followed their instructions and wound up here. He thought the guards at the city gates would allow him entry. He had the stamped summons from the LIGHT. But he had come in from the wrong gate, into the wrong sector. He ran for the one place he thought he’d find refuge and ended up on a Pilgrim’s Wheel.

Taryn would be lying if she said the narrative hadn’t moved her. Yet she had to wonder if it weren’t simply cleverly contrived. If it were true, then Denan was exactly the kind of mutant Taryn loved to help. He’d only just met the masked man in the alley and his encounters with these impostors had been sparse. It was obvious to her that these men who claimed to be agents of the LIGHT had lied to him and she wanted to help him get back to his family. But something didn’t add up.

‘Tell me about the two mutants who came into the city with you.’

Her Shadow revealed more dots of light. Denan was looking up again. “What? I came here alone.”

But he wasn’t supposed to be. That’s what her Inquiry of the masked impostor had told her. She could see those white flames now, blazing eastward in Larisport, surrounded by a gaggle of tattooed admirers. Denan might not carry a trace of the reading mutation but one of these two might. They could have crafted the tale in his mind. She wouldn’t know until she delved deeper and that required time.

She counted the boxes in her arms. She still had deliveries to make.

‘There hasn’t been a mutant reporting in the entire city in over three years.’ Only a select group of people actually knew what became of the mutants who were captured within the city walls. All the public knew was that they were never seen again. Taryn worked hard to ensure that mutants of the kingdom never dared to set foot in her city and threaten the work she was doing there. Now, it seemed, she had grown slack. ‘Suddenly I find three of you, on the same day, just a couple months shy of the Lady’s Day and headed for Larisport. That’s not a coincidence.’

“I swear to you, I don’t know anything about any other mutants or any Lady’s Day plots. I just want my life back.”

‘You’ll forgive me if I don’t believe you. You will remain in my custody until I can get the answers I need. Then I’ll decide what’s to become of you. I suggest you get comfortable.’

“No, wait! Please, I have a family. Please! Don’t do this. Don’t leave me here.”

Taryn pulled away from his mind. She had to remind herself that every illegal act in the city connected to Larisport could be traced back to one man. No. One monster. The same monster Taryn had been trying to dethrone for years. If he was involved in this, there was no way she could just let Denan go.