An hour later, Taryn finished pouring the second cooled pot of the not-hydrangea tea into the Countess’s mouth. The green silk gown clung to her skin on the strength of the sweat that drenched her body. Her pulse was stronger and her temperature was hotter than the tea.

“Start feeding her the next pot once its cooled enough,” she instructed Rai. “I should be back in about an hour.”

“What? No. What if… what if she dies?” she finished in a hush.

“If the crimen bey hasn’t killed her by now, I doubt it will. She’s getting stronger.” The strength of her flame had grown from a speck to an apple seed. “It would be good if she had a familiar face when her fever breaks.”

“But what if she gets worse? What should I do if she starts choking? Or if she stops breathing?”

“Just stay with her, and you’ll know.” Taryn fully intending to Echo instructions if she had to.

“No.” Rai shook her head. “I can’t. Please, please don’t leave me alone with her again.”

Taryn sighed. It looked like she wouldn’t be able to slip out without explaining. She went back to the writing desk and showed Rai the notes again.

“Taryn, I’ve already seen–”

“Look carefully,” Taryn said softly. “Look at the letters. At the s’s; at the f’s.”

Taryn heard the sharp intake of breath as Rai gasped. “They look like – Are you saying that she’s…” Rai couldn’t voice it. Instead she ran the entire romantic tale through her mind and Taryn watched her face light up and crumble at the wonder and tragedy and hopeful reconciliation of it all.

“I hope I’m wrong,” Taryn said, knowing that she wasn’t. She knew well the face that permeated the surface of the Countess’s mind-seed. She had been too afraid of what she might see if she dug deeper but the particular company she sent her staff away to receive, the notes, even Freya’s Tears. It all pointed to the same thing. And maybe Vares would have been there, to console and to help her, if he hadn’t spent his first night back with Taryn. “If I’m not, His Majesty needs to know. He will want an account of everything that’s happened here. He wouldn’t want her to be alone.”

“Okay,” Rai said. “I’ll do it. I’ll stay.”

“Are you sure?”

“You’ll have a better chance at getting in to see him than I would,” Rai said. “Just remember your manners, please.”

Taryn left, reaching out with her mind as she flew down the steps.

She Shadowed Shield first.

He shucked off his muddy boots and dropped into bed with a heavy sigh.

‘He needs you,’ she Echoed, and just like that he was on his feet again.

She locked her mind on Vares next. He sat behind his desk, one arm bent to support his head, the other tapped restlessly over several sheets of numbers and currencies. A handful of officials stood before him; from the Treasury, she assumed. The snippet of conversation she heard give her the idea that he was asking them to fund a project that he didn’t have Congressional or Fallen approval for. A project they were politely but passionately against. Taryn hated to think that she had to bring him this news while he was doing something as boring and kingly as having a budget meeting. She hated to have to bring him this news at all.

Sparing no time to bother trying to get past his usual defenses, she infiltrated his mind with the violent sense of urgency she felt.

He winced at the pain, drawing the worry of the treasurers.

‘Dismiss them,’ she Echoed.

Instead, he bolstered his defenses and routed her from his mind. Before she could return, he employed his Forge training and made his flame disappear from her Sentry completely.

Taryn leapt into the minds of all of the gathered officials, the same violent urgency causing each of them to wince at her intrusion. She took command of the curtains she knew to hang behind them and made them billow. She lifted everything she knew to be outside of their field of view to show the King how dangerous it would become if he ignored her.

“Leave me,” Vares finally growled, his eyes focused on the display behind the treasurers.

“Pardon?” one of the them said; a plump older woman with greying hair drawn back into a tidy bun. “Forgive us, Majesty, but I suspect we may have just fallen under attack.”

The rest of them cast curious glances at the King as they organized their pages back into their ledgers.

‘Now, Vares!’

“Just leave them and go!”

They pushed each other out with sour bows and hushed questions about his sanity.

He stood, fists planted on the surface of the desk as he watched her power right the room. “Where in the hells do you get the nerve –”

‘Shava Soren, is she your mistress?’

His silence made the seconds dragged at he stood there. “You’ve violated your immunity and endangered your anonymity for common gossip?”

‘She is dying, Vares,’ Taryn said before he worked himself into a rage. ‘She seems to be under the impression that you might care to know that. If she is simply delusional, let me know now and we will never speak of this again. But if she isn’t… You need to be here.’

His office door opened and he growled at the intrusion. But it was only Shield, half-dressed and fully armed with a small team of Infantrymen at his back. Taryn looked at the two of them through the other’s eyes and saw the moment when they both realized that this wasn’t a scheme or a prank or a drill she was testing them with. She watched as something wild and frantic took over the King’s facade.

“Go.” Shield spoke over his shoulder to the Infantry. “Get the others. Get everyone.”

“Tell me what happened,” Vares asked of her as he came around the desk, fumbled for a coat and hurried out the door. “How did it happen?”

‘That’s not what matters,’ Taryn told Vares, though she let Shield know all the details.

“How is she?” Vares asked.

‘She’s asleep,’ Taryn Echoed, wary of promising anything more than that. ‘I left her with Rai.’

“What?” Vares stopped in the hall and Shield grabbed his arm and directed him away from curious and concerned eyes. “You need to go back. You need to stay with her.”

‘I can’t.’ Taryn watched as more of the Infantry joined them and Shield ordered them to prepare to leave. More of the Arsenal arrived. Shield gave them a quick brief and they went off to make their own preparations. ‘Rai knows I’ve gone to notify you. She’ll start to suspect something if I return so quickly without you.’ Especially if he suddenly arrived soon after.

‘Are you all leaving to come here now?’ she asked Shield.

“I don’t know your friend, Taryn. I know you. I trust you. Please, just keep an eye on her until I get there.”

He needed her. The thought stopped her as she reached the manor gates. Nothing else mattered in that moment; not her immunity, not her anonymity, not this game he liked to play with the citizens or the secrets he’d always fought to keep. Vares needed her.

‘Okay.’

As she trudged back to the Countess’s bedroom, she watched the King with a corner of her mind. He raced through the palace, all dignity forgotten. At the stables, he ignored Shield’s insistence that they wait on a carriage, throwing himself on the first saddled beast he could find.

“What happened?” Rai asked when she returned.

“I think it would be wiser to be sure she will survive before informing the King that the woman he loved had tried to kill herself after she’d miscarried his child.” Taryn took up her vigil sitting against the wall behind the door. The woman slumbering in the center of the bed was beautiful, but that wasn’t enough to capture the heart of the King. Taryn wanted to know who she was. Rai had said that she was nice, despite being a Purist.Was that all it took to make the King defy his own mandates and abandon everything else in his life to race through the city on horseback? Was that all it took to make him love her so… recklessly?

Nice didn’t mean much when it was two middlings who wanted something from each other. What would she be like with a stranger? A mutant? Would she be kind or cruel? Callous or cold? Did she apologize when she said unkind words in the heat of a moment? How often did she laugh?

The Countess moved. Not a slight twitch or mindless muscle spasm but a full body shift, from being splayed on her back to curling on to her side.

Rai celebrated the progress.

Taryn unclenched and relayed the information to the King and his Shield, the only one keeping pace with him while a retinue of Infantry and his entire Arsenal trailed farther behind. She heard cheers go out from those roaming the streets around them; celebrating the rare sight of their beloved King even as they scampered to get out of his way. She watched a crowd begin to form; to follow. And she had to remind herself to breathe. He was doing everything he always said he would never do. And something cold and bitter began to sprout in Taryn’s heart. An emptiness like a yawning cavern, both strange and familiar.

When the King finally arrived, it was with the same conspicuous manner as his reckless charge through the streets of Pine Keep.

“What is that?” Rai pulled the curtain back and peered out the window. “Do you think it could be some of her people? Maybe someone found her first and ran to get a physician.”

“Maybe,” was all the response Taryn could muster. She thought she should head down to greet them, make it possible for Rai to believe she could have relayed an entire message of the happenings but she felt paralyzed, crouching against the wall, knees hugged to her chest against the cold feeling spreading through her torso.

“I think it’s the King,” Rai said suddenly. “Or most of His Arsenal and half His Infantry. It has to be him, right?”

Taryn didn’t have the energy to act surprised. Her Sentry revealed the large wave of mental flames as they flooded in through the gate and began to secure a perimeter around the property, keeping spectator flames at bay.

“But how did they know?” Rai asked. Then gasped. “Do you think he sensed she was in danger with his power? How romantic!”

The pair of flames that led the charge were at the door now. Her own ears could hear their heavy steps pounding into the marble, clomping up the stairs.

“You can’t greet the King like that.” Rai grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet. She positioned them at the door… and then they were there.

This was not what Taryn always imagined when she thought of moments like this, moments when two of the most important people of both of her lives would stand in the same room. She’d imagined fresh baked bread and embarrassing stories, or wide smiles and the smell of flowers. Not grim lines and the stench of sickness hovering over a death bed.

“Your Majesty.” Rai dipped into a curtsy and elbowed Taryn in the ribs to do the same. Taryn bent into an awkward bow and got an eye roll and a scoff for her efforts.

The King only had eyes on the sweating figure in the bed, fighting for her life. He raced to her side and there was a vulnerability in his expression that Taryn had never seen before.

Taryn’s eyes watered as she watched him cup the woman’s face in his hands and press his sweaty forehead to hers. Her chest tightened as he pressed his lips to hers, ever so gently, and begged her not to leave him. His stoic royalty melted away. His appetite for mischief evaporated. He became someone else. Someone Taryn didn’t know. And her world started to unravel.

Taryn felt a hand on her shoulder, saw another on Rai’s. Shield ushered them out of the room and she thought that was best. Out in the narrow hall with the door closed behind them, the scene could fade into a memory she could doubt and alter until it no longer choked her up.

“Tell me what you know,” he said.

Taryn hadn’t even decided yet who she was supposed to be in this moment so she didn’t know what to say. Rai did. She told him that Taryn had kicked the door in, so Shield wouldn’t think a violent intruder had. Then she briefed him on her day at the bakery, to explain why they were even there in the first place, so Shield wouldn’t think they’d come to rob the place. The tea cup and the broken window, the hidden puzzle of the garden, the yellow not-hydrangea that had saved the Countess’s life. The notes.

“We need to leave,” Taryn said suddenly. “They’ll be wondering about us at the bakery.”

“Mama will understand,” Rai countered. “We can stay as long as you need us to, sir. We want to make sure she is completely recovered.”

“There is nothing more that we can do,” Taryn said, taking her hand, pulling her away. “We promise not to speak of what’s happened here.” She felt a sudden urge to cry and she didn’t know why. She didn’t want to know why, only to be away from the man mourning and mooning over his woman while the entire city watched.

“Wait,” Shield called them back. “Thank you, the both of you. What you’ve done here today will always be remembered. If there is ever anything we can do for you, please do not hesitate to ask. No matter the cause.”

Rai curtsied her thanks and Taryn pulled her away before she could say anything else.

“That was rude,” Rai hissed as Taryn urged them down the stairs. “Have you never been in the presence of royalty before?”

Taryn hoped she was being rhetorical. Pairs of armed Infantrymen roved the manor home, securing every room and closet and taking up sentry positions throughout. Few of them narrowed their gazes at Taryn and Rai, only to be assured by one of their compatriots, who recognized her.

“There’s a crowd gathering at the gate. We need to leave without any of them seeing us.”

“What does it matter if anyone sees us?”

“I’ll lose my–” Taryn caught herself. Any public connection between Taryn and the King would be the end of her privileges in the city. The consequences of a revelation of her mutant status after that connection would be so great, her immunity wouldn’t even matter anymore. After seven years as a ward of the palace, Taryn knew better than to go that far. But this was one of a few things that Vares was immovable on. So Taryn was careful to avoid anything that could be skewed in light of that. “If we’re seen leaving the manor after the King raced to get here, people will be flooding the bakery to ask about what we know.” Taryn was sure Rai wouldn’t appreciate that.

Rai pursed her lips and nodded her assent. She didn’t question how Taryn knew where to go as she led them to a parlor and through a side door. They came out onto a decorated patio built around a heated pool. It was surrounded by low hanging lamp stands and hidden from spying eyes by tall trees and thick hedges.

Taryn peered out from behind the trimmed hedges, to an open lawn stretching between them and the eight-foot wall that defined the rear border of the Soren Manor grounds.

“The wall runs along both sides and the back,” Rai said. “We have to leave through the front gate. We can probably outrun anyone before they find a way to trap us.”

“Between your hair and my eyes someone is bound to make a connection to the bakery,” Taryn said. “We’ll just have to go over the wall.”

“How?”

In answer, Taryn she ran at the wall, crossed the gap in several long strides and jumped. Two quick scrambling steps up the wall and her hands were at the top, pulling herself up to straddle the foot-and-a-half thick slab. “Your turn,” she called from the top.

“I’m sorry,” Rai said. “I forgot to mention when we met that I am not part monkey.”

Taryn lay flat on her stomach and reached her left arm down for Rai’s hand. “Just jump, and I’ll pull you up.”

Rai approached the wall, stretched her hand up and hopped. Their fingers reached to Taryn’s palms; not enough to form a firm grip.

“You’ll need a running start.”

Rai shook her head and backed away. “Are you sure you’ll be able to pull me up? I don’t want to fall.”

“I’m stronger than I look. I won’t drop you. Now hurry,” she added, shifting her posture to close another inch. “It won’t be long until someone gets the idea to look back here.”

Rai gathered her skirts in one hand and took a bracing breath. She took a few steps back and then another bracing breath.

Taryn watched her closely. Rai didn’t have a far enough start and she could have moved a lot faster but Taryn didn’t want to sow any doubt. When her feet left the ground, Taryn gave her an extra lift and pretended to struggle as she hoisted Rai onto the wall.

“Whoa!” she exclaimed when she’d settled at the top, grinning down at the ground and swinging her legs like a happy toddler. “I just did that! Did you see?”

“I felt it.” Taryn cranked her arm around the shoulder. “You know, a smart vendor doesn’t sample his own wares,” she joked.

Rai’s smile quickly turned into a scowl. “You are absolutely right. As soon as we get back to the bakery, Mama and I will reevaluate your meal allowance.”

Now it was Taryn’s turn to frown. “It was a joke. You don’t need to be hurtful.” She swung her left leg over to the out side of the wall and pushed off. She landed in a crouch, letting her momentum carry her into a roll over her left shoulder before she sprang to her feet.

“I am not doing that,” Rai said. “There is no way.”

There was no way she’d get down otherwise. “It’s not as hard as it looks.”

“It doesn’t look hard when you do it,” Rai retorted. “Oh, gods. How am I going to get down from here? Why’d I let you talk me into this?”

“Look at me, Rai. Look at me! I’ll catch you, alright? I’ve never lied to you. I was able to pull you up. I’ll be able to catch you.”

Slowly, Rai brought her legs over.

“Don’t close your eyes!” Taryn didn’t mean to sound so panicked but this was not a thing to be done blind.

“Do you promise you’ll catch me?” Rai asked.

“I promise.”

Taryn and Rai both let out a long breath.

“Okay,” Rai said. Then she closed her eyes and –

An arm, dressed in a green sleeve trimmed with gold and capped with metal studded gloves, shot out from behind and snaked across Rai’s stomach. Then she was pulled backwards, shock and panic and fear twisting into her expression.

“No!” Taryn had to restrain herself from pulling back. That would have caused more problems than it solved. Instead, she drew back and ran at the wall again. Scaling her way up and over, Taryn read the scene before she landed into it. Rai was face down on the lawn, tears streaming down her face. An Infantryman on top of her, holding a fist full of her hair against her head to keep her there, a knee in her back. From her crouch, Taryn leaned forward onto her hands and swept her legs around to deliver a kick to the Infantryman’s head.

He was thrown off and rolled away. Taryn knelt over Rai.

“Are you okay?” she asked as she helped her friend to a sitting position. Nothing looked broken, though the right side of her face was a red splotch and Taryn hoped it wouldn’t bruise. “Did he hurt you?”

Smothered moans and quiet sobs were her only reply.

Taryn turned towards the Infantryman. He’d shaken the stars from his eyes and was rising to his feet.

Taryn positioned herself to stand between him and Rai. “You didn’t have to rough her up like that,” she growled at him. “She wasn’t a threat.”

“You two are under arrest for tress–”

“I don’t want to hear anything you have to say unless its an apology!”

His dark eyes narrowed at her. His hand closed around the hilt of the longsword belted at his waist.

“So now you want to draw on two unarmed civilians?” Taryn wondered who this man was. She knew all the Infantrymen who’d been active when she arrived at the palace. She’d made sure that any others who were brought on knew her face. Knew her place. This had to be one the LAAMP’s more recent hires. One she hadn’t tested yet. Well, it didn’t seem like a test was necessary. “Draw that weapon and you will lose it,” she warned him.

Something curious happened in a man’s mind when a fifteen year old girl told him not to do a thing. It suddenly became the one thing he was determined to do in the world. It was a form of mind control Taryn didn’t mind being accused of. It didn’t happen all the time, but when it did, they could never say that she didn’t warn them. So she was ready when the fool slid the weapon out of it’s sheath.

He wasn’t ready when she rushed him. When she took hold of his hand and twisted his arm behind his back and forced his body forward. When she swept his legs out from under him and sent him flipping forward in the air until he landed on his back. He wasn’t ready to have her foot pressing into his chest, keeping him down. To see his sword in her hands, its point at his throat.

“You owe my friend an apology,” she said.

“Taryn,” Rai said. “What have you done?”

“I’m teaching him some manners.”

The terror in his eyes didn’t last long. Taryn could hear the sound of his cohorts, racing across the lawn to surround her with swords unsheathed and pikes at the ready. She was sure he could hear it too. Taryn looked around at them; four more new hires, untested men sent to patrol the external perimeter while the tried and true soldiers were tasked with securing the manor proper.

“What’s going on here?” This one looked like he would fall over in a strong wind. His voice whined, like he was barely old enough to grow his first chest hair. What were the LAAMP thinking?

“That is a very sharp weapon you’ve got there,” a third Infantryman said. “Why don’t you put it down? Before someone gets hurt.”

“I’m not trying to hurt anyone,” Taryn said. “This man hurt my friend. He needs to answer for it.”

“I’m fine,” Rai said. “Taryn, please. Let’s just go.”

“Don’t let them leave,” the fool called from the floor. “They’re trespassing and resisting arrest.”

One of the flames around her flared with activity. When he launched his ‘surprise’ attack from behind, Taryn had to step away from the fool on the floor. She played with her attacker for a few short engagements, quickly stepping inside of his range and delivering an elbow into his jaw. She watched the flame of his mind dull into a semipermeable orb of unconsciousness.

Now she had two swords, three armed opponents, and still no apology.

She cast the second weapon down. “I have no qualms with the rest of you. But this one accosted my friend and he needs to apologize for it.” Then she could give up the weapon and present her passport, without anyone having to interfere. She’d have some uncomfortable questions from Rai on their way to the bakery but everyone would be able to get back to doing their jobs.

Two of them shifted to surround her, moving into positions that would place them between her and Rai. So Taryn rushed them.

It was a unique experience for Taryn, since she had never sparred against two pikes and a sword before. And challenging, since she only had a single sword to fight with. Disarming the pike wielders was easy once she closed the distance between them. Unfortunately, they always managed to reclaim their weapons while she was engaged in defending herself against one of their comrades. Then the fool picked up the discarded sword and the ‘surprise’ attacker recovered his wits. Taryn ended up dodging more than she would have liked to but they were moving away from Rai, which was what she wanted. When they were far enough away she began her attack in earnest. The sound of ringing steel sang terror and thrill into her heart. These were real blades, flying to her outside of a carefully choreographed sequence. Yet she hadn’t once been required to call on her abilities to keep them at bay.

She did trip once. She turned it into a flip; kicking one of her attachers in the chest and landing with her sword at the ready. At the end of sixty-two strokes, her muscles were sore from the force of so many collisions jarring her arms. Her chest heaved as they worked to supply oxygen to her overworked muscles. Beads of sweat cooled her face when a gentle breeze whispered over the wall or around the manor. She almost forgot why she’d been so uncooperative in the first place.

Near the seventy-eighth stroke, a voice rang out from beyond those caught in her swirl of fists and blades and Taryn thought her heart stopped when the thrill was drained from her, leaving her only fear.

“Hold!”

Taryn froze; the flat of her sword less than an inch from one of her opponent’s heads.

A fist struck her face and she stumbled aside, the sting in her cheekbone letting her know that the skin had been broken. Taryn held her breath.

“I said hold!” The King’s Mailed Fist swaggered into their midst. He wore his studded gloves today. Taryn heard the leather stretch as he flexed his hands before he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Sir!” The three Infantrymen lowered their weapons; the fourth reclaimed his pike and all five crossed their right fists over their chests and inclined their heads.

“What the hells is going on here?” Mailed Fist asked.

“We caught these two sneaking onto the property,” the fool answered.

Taryn didn’t correct him. Speaking meant breathing; meant the scent of blood filling her nostril. She could feel it trickling down her cheek. If she raised a hand to wipe it away, she would see it on her hands and now was not the time to collapse from nausea. She thought it had been Shield who’d seen them from the windows of the manor. Shield knew that her connections in the city would have to be severed if her connection to the palace and the King were known. He knew she didn’t want that. Mailed Fist likely knew it to. He just didn’t care.

Mailed Fist raked his eyes over the fool. “What is your name, soldier?”

“Staff Marshal Nashal Baral.”

“There are no Staff Marshals in the King’s defense. There are only Weapons and tools. Which one do you think you are?”

The Infantryman spoke through gritted teeth. “A tool, sir.”

Taryn released her breath and inhaled through her mouth.

“That is correct. Nashal Baral, the tool. That’s a bit of a mouthful so we’ll go with Mr. Tool from here on. Now, Mr. Tool, it seemed to me that these two were trying to sneak out of the perimeter and you brought them back in. Why?”

“An easy mistake,” the tool admitted. “Regardless, the girl resisted arrest and assaulted a hand of our rank.”

“The King’s Infantry does not arrest. You execute traitors and defend the Seat. If you were all bested by a little girl then I must doubt your ability to do either of these things. Get back to work and prove me wrong. Who knows what kind of riff-raff you’ve allowed to breach this perimeter when you all abandoned your posts to pick on a pair of little girls!”

Mr. Tool wasn’t done. “Misunderstanding or not, their blatant lack of respect for authority could be evidence of greater crimes. Just yesterday a mutant had help escaping from this very sector. They must be charged. At the very least questioned. Unless crime goes unpunished everywhere in this city?”

Rai had done nothing wrong, Taryn wanted to say. But mouth-breathing was becoming ineffective. She knew the scent was somewhere in the air and she was sucking in huge swaths of it. Somehow, she felt like it was coating her tongue; lining the inside of her cheeks. She went back to holding her breath.

“Right again, Mr. Tool. But since we’re a little busy with this tasking now, we’ll just take their passports.” Mailed fist held out a gloved hand motioned for them to hand them over.

Rai reached into the pocket of her apron and gave hers up readily.

Taryn hesitated, until the proffered hand curled into a fist.

Mailed Fist read aloud from their pages. “Karai Nia Kebar, sixteen years old. She’s lived at 1251 West Isigny in Pine Keep since birth. Works at a family bakery just a stone’s throw away on the Fall – how charming. She’s been to Hollyn once. And outside to city a few times. It looks like summer trips to Hamar.” He paused to address her directly, “Hamar has some refreshing springs but if you can afford a few more days of travel, Cerise Falls Resort up in Wakanara County has really mastered the art of escaping the summer heat.” He closed the small booklet and handed it back to her. “We know where to find you if we need you. You’re free to go.”

Taryn was tempted to join Rai as she breathed her relief out in a long sigh. Then Mailed Fist opened her passport.

“Taryn.” His lips curled into a grimace as he read her name.

Even to Taryn’s own ears, her name on his tongue sounded like a foreign thing. It wasn’t the name he knew her by.

“That’s a stupid name,” he continued. “And no family name: very suspicious. No travel stamps, no official employer; curiouser still. Wow, Mr. Tool. You were right again. And look at this.” Mailed Fist smiled wide and showed the page to Mr. Tool. “This has to be the most fabricated home address I have ever seen. Is that even a real place?”

The grin on Mr. Tool’s face froze and melted. He blinked several times and his eyes ran over every word on the page presented and bulged; probably where he saw Vares’s signature. His gaze darted between Taryn, Mailed Fist, her passport and back again before finally settling on the sword still in Taryn’s hand, the one the Weapon hadn’t seen fit to relieve her of. Only Sword and Shield knew of her mutation. But every Weapon of the King’s Arsenal knew, as did most of the ‘tools’ in his Infantry, that Taryn could win almost any fight with a sword. All the uncertainty left if she was armed with two. That’s what they called her.

Taryn knew when understanding dawned to bow Mr. Tool’s shoulders. She’d asked them not to but she was sure that the more senior Infantrymen had warned these new hires to expect a test from Twin Swords – the secret Weapon of the King’s Arsenal.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice a broken squeak. “I didn’t know.”

“That is not what I asked,” Mailed Fist said. “Is this a real place? Do you know where it is?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what? Yes, hells-spawn? Yes, shit bag?”

Mr. Tool remembered himself and straightened to a position of attention. “Yes, sir!”

“Do you think you can find it, Mr. Tool?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Really? So I can send her away and we can all get back to work because you’ll know exactly where to find her for questioning?”

“That won’t be necessary, sir.”

“That is not what I asked you!” Mailed Fist stepped forward until his nose was just a hair’s breadth from Mr. Tool’s. “Do you know where to find her again?”

“Yes.” Mr. Tool’s voice was a shaky whisper.

“Yes who!?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Good.” Mailed Fist tossed Taryn’s passport back without looking and Taryn scrambled to catch it. It landed on the floor by Rai’s boot and Taryn scooped it up and tucked it away before Rai could get a good look. “As long as we’re all posted here, and until we make it back to the palace, I want you to come and find me, every hour on the hour, and recite that address to me. That way we can both be sure that you know where to find the girl if you need to question her. Do you think you can manage that?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Good. While you’re at it, you will also explain to me what it means to blatantly disrespect authority. Now get back to your posts! All of you!”

“Yes, sir!” sounded from all five mouths, followed by hasty salutes and a nervous weapon hand-off between Taryn and Mr. Tool.

And Rai got her apology.

“Thank you,” Taryn told Mailed Fist.

“What the hells are you two still doing here. Get your worthless meat-sacks out of my perimeter or I’ll detain you until you’re dusty bones!” he said. “And stop trying to go over the wall. Use the front gate, you crazy animal.”

* * * * *

It took them several minutes to clear the property and escape the probing curiosity of the spectators who loitered outside the manor gate. Several minutes Taryn spent cycling between nauseated, blood-riddled hallucinations and weakness from lack of oxygen.

Once they’d made it to the busy street of the Prince’s Fall, Taryn had to stop. She couldn’t quite seem to catch her breath, only choked gasps that left her empty and gasping for more. Even though she couldn’t smell the blood anymore, the knowledge that it was there, a red tear dried on her cheek, convinced her senses otherwise. Everywhere she looked, the air was colored by the red mist. It clung to her skin, saturated her tongue. She even thought she heard someone screaming. That was new. And her rolling vision. Every time she tried to focus her gaze on something, her vision shook violently and she lost it. That had never happened before either.

Suddenly, something wet splashed all over her face and Taryn sat up, sputtering. For a moment she was in her garden, looking up at her fountain. Then she blinked and Rai was kneeling beside her, the fear in her green eyes melting away to relief. A man with a thin black mustache and hair plaited back in neat rows stood above them both holding a glass pitcher that was half-filled with… Taryn wiped her face. It felt like water.

“She appears to be fine,” the man announced. He handed the pitcher back to a waiter and bent to shove his instruments; jars of tablets, powders and ointments, wound dressing and threaded needles and the like; back into his physician’s bag.

“You’re sure?” Rai asked.

“If she had been poisoned, a splash of water would not have woken her,” the physician said.

“I collapsed,” Taryn realized. There hadn’t been any new symptoms. There had only been Rai, screaming in panic and trying to shake her awake. “How long?”

“A few minutes,” he said. “Your friend said you’d been in a fight recently. The cut on your cheek was the only injury I was able to find. It had already stopped bleeding when I cleaned and salved it. It should be completely healed in a week’s time. How do you feel?”

Embarrassed and exposed. She wasn’t supposed to be drawing attention to herself in the city. Now she’d collapsed in front of two dozen strangers, and who knows how many passing pedestrians. Not to mention the fanatic droves that had sent them running from Soren Manor to begin with. “Hungry,” she said instead.

“Then it’s just as I thought,” the physician said. “If you’re going to exert yourself, be sure your body is well nourished.”

“Thank you,” Rai said.

The physician helped Taryn to her feet and thanked the waiter for his assistance. Rai apologized to the audience dining at the tables outside the small restaurant for disrupting their peaceful meals. And the girls were sent on their way; a napkin full of buttered bread, cheese and nuts to fuel the way.

Taryn happily nibbled on the bits of bread and cheese. Attempting large bites had stretched her cheeks and threatened to break the seal of salve over her wound.

“I was only joking about your meal allowance,” Rai said after a while. “You didn’t have to wear yourself out to get a meal.”

Taryn recognized the fear behind Rai’s nervous smile. She knew how she would have felt if it had been Rai who’d suddenly collapsed in the street. “This wasn’t your fault,” Taryn said after she swallowed. “I was the one who insisted on going over the wall. You were hurt because of it. I was the one who provoked the Infantry and let my guard down too soon. None of it would have happened if we’d taken the gate to being with, like you’d said.”

Rai’s brows raised as she touched a hand to her bruised cheek, another to the small of her back. The heaviness left her eyes and blended a note of sincerity into the curve of her lips. “I barely feel anything now.”

She would, when the adrenaline wore off. “I’m sorry I dragged you into all of this.”

“It wasn’t too bad,” Rai said. “And at least I got to see you in action. When you told me you were training, I didn’t think you knew how to use a sword. But you were amazing! You didn’t even flinch when they all surrounded you. I was sure they’d overtake you, terrified you’d be hurt but you weren’t. Until…” The light in her eyes darkened again. “When you fell, I was certain that I’d missed something. Maybe one of them had gotten you and I was making it worse by making you run through the city. Then I couldn’t wake you.”

Taryn took hold of Rai’s hand to draw her attention. They stopped in front of a dressmaker’s shop, shining blue gowns displayed on headless mannequins in the windows. “It wasn’t anything you did or didn’t do,” Taryn said. “It was the blood. I can’t stand the sight, the smell or feel of blood. It makes me… ill. That’s why I collapsed.”

“You can’t be serious.” Rai peered at the little wound on Taryn’s face. “You can hold your own against a hand of the King’s Infantry. You rush into danger and leap over walls but a few drops of blood and you turn to jelly?”

“Laugh all you want,” Taryn said. “Any blood outside of the body is unnatural. And frankly, I find the rest of the world’s easy acceptance of it more than a bit troubling.”

“I’m not laughing at you. It just doesn’t make sense. You’re a girl! And almost sixteen. If it hasn’t happened yet, very soon you will have to deal with blood on a regular basis.”

Taryn cringed. She’d been warned many times since she turned twelve; from Amyth, and Nexi and several of the women who staffed the palace. Almost every encounter ended in nausea or waking violently to smelling salts. “We should talk about something else.”

Rai pressed her lips together, as if unsure of whether or not she should press the matter.

“You’re right,” she finally said, linking her arm with Taryn’s and leading her down the Fall. “At least now I can report that you aren’t a criminal. Apart from the obvious, I mean. And that was more about helping someone in trouble than it was hurting innocent people or getting something for yourself.”

“Well, I am pleased that you’re pleased.”

“Can I see your passport?” Rai was no fool. She had to know the answer to that before she asked.

Taryn admired the asking, all the same. “No,” she said with a smile.

“It was worth a try.” Rai shrugged. “It shouldn’t be hard to guess which of the noble houses you belong to. You were nervous around the King, so you must not have had many opportunities to meet him. That rules out the Fallen five. Probably all of the First houses, too.”

The ‘Fallen five’ were descendants of those who had been kings of their own provinces when the world united under Vares the First. They sat on the Silver Seats that made up the Council of the Fallen Kings and served as intermediaries between the King and every arm of the monarchy. They were the first place Lothors looked when seeking brides for their sons, and husbands for their daughters. If the Maron prince hadn’t turned to treason, he might have claimed the kingdom’s sixth Silver Seat and taken his place among the Fallen. Then Taryn and mutants the worlds over would have a true advocate within the monarchy, instead of the war-mongering LAAMP officials.

Beneath them were the seventy seats of Congress, made up of the thirty-nine First families (those who had been noble since before the War of the Royals), and thirty-one Favored families. These were those who’d gained nobility by favor of the Lothor line, supplanting those who had through some treasonous act or another fallen victim to Lothor vengeance and gotten their names erased from history. Taryn doubted that Rai knew them all. Her friend was a lover of the myths and legends that surrounded the Lothor bloodline. And apart from the Marons, the histories of the seventy-five noble families were not as exciting.

Taryn distracted her by buying a couple of kebabs from a street vendor and challenging Rai to identify the spices by taste. From there she directed the conversation to how Rai might construct a sweet kebab for the bakery’s menu, which opened the door for Rai to talk about what she really enjoyed: experimenting with new recipes and ingredients.

Taryn didn’t think for a moment that her friend was fooled. But Rai accepted that the secrets Taryn kept would not all be revealed in a day and that subtle understanding sealed another fracture in their fragile friendship.

* * * * *

“So you’re an enemy of the Seat, then.” Galen was waiting with the accusation when Taryn and Rai walked into the bakery. “Or an agent of the Maron prince. Which is it?”

Taryn answered the curious stares of the bakery’s patrons with a reassuring smile. Then she grabbed Galen by the elbow and dragged him to the counter. “What are you going on about now?” she asked.

“First, you’re helping mutants escape the city,” he said. “Now you’re starting fights with the King’s Infantry?”

“Keep your voice down,” Rai hissed. “Taryn was only trying to help me. How did you even hear about it?”

“The whole city knows,” he said. “Or they will soon enough. Tell me,” he asked Taryn, “did you set out to assassinate the King’s mistress to weaken his resolve against a larger Lady’s Day attack? Or were you only interested in drawing him out of the palace for a sneak attack?”

“How can you possibly believe any of that?” Rai asked. “Taryn would never have even been there if I hadn’t gone out. We didn’t even know who she was to the King until we found out that she’d –”

“Was unwell,” Taryn injected. “I’m sorry, but we can’t say anything more about it.”

“That’s true,” Rai admitted. “But Taryn didn’t try to assassinate anyone.”

“Well,” Galen said. “Your perversity has officially reached a new low.”

The rest of the day went much the same way. Dozens of ‘concerned citizens’ managed to track them to the bakery. Taryn and Rai spent a good deal of time denying stories of their exploits that grew more extreme and exaggerated with each telling.

As closing hour drew near, the general consensus was that Taryn’s original assassination attempt had been thwarted by the King’s Infantry at Soren Manor. Then she’d run after the King’s carriage on foot, chasing the fleeing couple as far as the gates of the palace grounds, where the King’s power was strongest. There, Taryn had battled and defeated all the Weapons in the King’s Arsenal before being felled by the King himself. As for how she’d discovered Shava Soren’s identity in the first place, well, everyone knew that someone had helped a mutant escape the bluebacks yesterday. Just as they knew that every mutant was a secret-stealing murderer in service of the Maron prince.

That was how Taryn learned that Vares had moved his mistress in to the palace.

Taryn knew she should be glad that the woman was well enough to move, that she was not going to die. And she was. Yet a part of her couldn’t stop thinking about what it meant for her: What would happen to their dinners? How would the woman impact her plans? What if the Countess really was in collusion with the King of the Lane? Well, then she couldn’t be trusted to stay at the palace. But how could she tell Vares that? After everything? And what would he say about her attack against his Infantry? The loss of her anonymity?

“Gods, I hope that was the last one,” Rai said. She locked the bakery door behind a pair of bluebacks escorting a topless man from the bakery; one of Pine Keep’s less refined ‘concerned citizens.’ He’d refused to leave, his sour breath wafting into the room through a mouthful of yellowed teeth as he insisted that Taryn give a demonstration of her fight against the King. “Why do people think this kind of behavior is acceptable?”

“I’m just grateful none of them became violent,” Kemen said. He drew the curtains over the large display windows, shutting out the last few minutes of sunset.

“Why?” Galen picked at a platter of leftover pastries. He frowned at Taryn when she made him get up so she could set the chairs upside-down on the tabletops in oder to sweep the dust from underneath. “I’m sure Taryn could have handled anyone who did.”

“Uh, but she wouldn’t have,” Kemen said. “You see, Taryn is only formidable against other warriors. If you pit her against untrained civilians she becomes as dangerous as a blind kitten.”

“That doesn’t even make any sense,” Galen said.

It made perfect sense to Taryn. A blind kitten is what Kem had called her the first time she’d picked up a waster and sparred against him. He hadn’t been an enemy then. Or an untested Infantryman in need of correcting. He’d just been the boy who could make her heart beat louder with a smile. And he’d smiled a lot when he thought he was teaching her how to use a sword.

His lips were set into a tight line now, his blue eyes icy under a hooded brow. Another casualty of her growing infamy. He knew her true capabilities now and she could see that her deception had created another layer of bricks in the wall between them. Taryn wanted to apologize. Once she was free to tell him the truth, then she would have another chance to find out what was on the other side of those mischievous smiles. First, she needed to apologize to wipe that layer off.

But he had already moved on, she reminded herself.

Taryn set her jaw and put up more chairs. She heard him make a noise behind her; like the sound of drying cement.

“I suppose it would be irresponsible for Taryn to exercise her skills against ordinary citizens,” Rai said.

“Even if there’s a mob out there waiting to swarm her once she’s alone?” Galen asked.

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Rai said.

Neither had Taryn. She ran a quick Sentry over Pine Keep, searching for bunches of mental flames gathered in the streets between the bakery and the palace. She wasn’t worried about being able to defend herself, though she preferred to avoid the necessity.

“Maybe you should come home with us,” Rai offered. “I’m sure no one will bother you if you’re not alone and… you don’t have to lose anything tonight,” she added softly.

That was exactly why Taryn had to go home. She had to face what she’d done, and prepare a case for maintaining her privileges to leave the palace grounds. She swept the dust and debris out through the bakery’s back door and into the wide street beyond. “Is there anything else that needs doing?”

There wasn’t.

When Taryn said goodnight to her friends, with tight hugs from Rai and a request that Taryn refrained from incurring any more injuries, she wondered if it was for the last time. She might have been able to get by with the city’s curiosity over the events at Soren Manor. That was more directed towards the Countess than Taryn herself. And Vares might have been understanding about her defense of Rai. But she didn’t have to cross blades with his Infantry. She could have settled the matter with her passport; without embarrassing his Infantry; without losing her anonymity. Those were the arguments he would make and Taryn wasn’t sure she could mount a reasonable defense.

As Taryn pondered the potential punishments that would be imposed upon her, she was recognized on no less than a dozen occasions, and half of those by bluebacks. Escaping and sneaking past them added an extra twenty minutes to her trip. And now she could add being late to dinner to the list of charges Vares would bring against her.

Taryn rushed through the palace gates and past the annoyed LAAMP official checking her time piece at the door. She ran all the way up to her bedroom where she realized that something was very wrong.

The pillows and sheets had been stripped from her bed. The door to her wardrobe was wide open and when she stepped forward to inspect it, she found her mannequins standing naked along the walls. The island of drawers had been emptied of her glittering slippers and fitted trousers. In the washroom, her carefully curated collection of bath salts and fragrant soaps was gone. Even the writing desk from her drawing room was nowhere to be found.

“Hunter!” She searched; under the bed, inside the large potted plants that decorated her balcony, in the tub and every drawer of the wardrobe’s island. Hoping to find his dark form curled in a small pocket, purring contentedly in his feline dreams and hissing at her for waking him. But he was gone, too.

Taryn felt the power twist in her veins.

Breathe, she told herself. And think.

It was only her rooms that were in chaos. The rest of the palace was at peace.

“I’m sorry.”

Taryn spun to find the King’s Shield struggling to catch his breath as he leaned against the the doorway between her bedroom and her drawing room.

“I’d hoped to catch you before you saw this,” he huffed.

“What’s happened?” Taryn asked. “Where are my things?”

“They’ve been moved,” he said. “To your new room: downstairs.”

For a minute, the two of them just stood staring at each other, catching their breaths.

“With Shava here, he didn’t want –”

“So she is staying, then?” Taryn immediately felt guilty about the bite of her words. She reigned herself in and asked, “How is she?”

“The physicians say she should be dead. They can’t explain why it works but we’ve uprooted that entire flower arrangement and they’ve been feeding her a steady infusion since her arrival.” He paused for a deep breath and stood straighter. “I tremble to think of what would have happened if you hadn’t been there. Your quick thinking saved her life and I can’t even begin to tell you how grateful we all are for what you did. I meant it: anything you want, it will be yours.”

What Taryn wanted was her room back and her anonymity intact. She wanted Wendar to be there, scolding her for being late. For Vares to tell her that the extra time she’d wasted sweeping dirt and cleaning tables because she’d been too afraid to face him would cost her dessert.

“Where’s Hunter?” she asked.

“I’ll show you.” He smiled and turned away.

Taryn told her legs to follow.

“Thank you for being so understanding about all of this,” he said over his shoulder.

Is that what it was? The cold, numb feeling creeping through her mind? Stabbing into her chest with every step that took her further from everything she’d thought to be sure? Was that understanding?

“She’s in a delicate state right now,” Shield explained. “She hasn’t woken yet so we don’t know if she still wants to hurt herself. But she did do this to herself. That much is clear. And if your empathy were to return… He wants to keep the two of you as far apart as possible and he needs to stay with her.”

“I understand,” she said, though she didn’t believe it. Her empathy hadn’t manifested in nearly a decade. Suddenly the mere idea of it returning was a problem big enough to uproot her entire life.

“This is it.” He smiled again. It seemed forced; lazy. Taryn noticed the swollen sacks beneath his eyes, the sluggish way that he moved. She wondered about the last time he’d gotten some rest.

Though the room he showed her to was dark, she could tell that it was smaller than her own. Her pillows covered half the length of the bed. Her beautiful gowns hung from a row of wooden hangers hooked on to a rod in the narrow closet.

“This is only temporary,” Shield assured her. “But it should all be here.”

Taryn counted the jars of oils and bath salts stacked atop the dresser across from the bed. She checked the long drawers and found the rest of her clothes. The sun had set so opening the curtains hardly added any light to the room. But outside there was no balcony overlooking her garden, just an unadulterated view of the palace’s inner wall. And –

“Hunter!” He was locked in a cage on the other side of the bed. She’d only seen him because he’d hissed at her for disturbing his rest. She knelt to let him out and they clung to each other; she stroking the silky fur at his neck, his whiskers tickling her ears as he sniffed at hers.

“Were you in there all this time?” Shield bent to stroke the side of Hunter’s flank. “I’m sorry. I should have made sure the guys actually let him loose.”

“You’ve done more than enough,” Taryn said. “He looks more rested than you do. You should get some sleep.”

Though the palace’s third floor was not as restricted as the fourth, there weren’t many flames wandering its halls after the work day. Shield prepared to leave and Taryn clenched as she watched a lone flame bob towards her temporary room.

“Good evening, neighbor,” Dr. Seir said as he rapped his knuckled against the door jamb. “I heard you were moving in just down the hall and I wanted to welcome you to the third. I’m only a few doors down, if you need anything,” he pointed.

Taryn stared. She knew where his room was. She knew where to go if she needed anything. She wasn’t completely new to the palace. What she didn’t know was why he’d wheeled a dinner tray into her temporary room.

“Right,” Shield said. “The King won’t be available for dinner tonight. Or for a while. We’ll let you know when things get back to normal.”

Then he was gone. Dr. Seir retreated to his late night research projects. And even Hunter abandoned her in search of his own dinner.

For the first time in six years, Taryn dined alone.