Hiya sat cross-legged on her bed, an array of makeup supplies gathered in her lap. Brows drawn together, she was scrutinizing the liquid concealer with unabashed fascination.

When Ruban stepped into the room, she looked up and gave him a gap-toothed smile. “This’ll be fun!”

“Or suicidal.” Ashwin sat in front of the small dressing table and glared at Ruban’s reflection in the mirror. “But in a fun way, I’m sure. After all, it’s not like Simani’s getting suspicious of me and Tauheen’s followers are still waiting for an opportunity to kill you. Going out of our way to draw attention to ourselves – to put a target on our own backs – makes perfect sense, under the circumstances.”

“People are dying.” Ruban strode into the room, coming to a halt behind Ashwin’s chair. “This is not the time to be overly cautious. They’re still digging out dead bodies from under the buildings that collapsed during the mafia’s Hunt in North Ragah. More than two hundred dead, and counting. This has to stop. We have to make it stop.”

Ashwin sighed. “I’m not disagreeing with your goals, Ruban. Only your methods. We don’t know who or what these gangs are working with. We don’t know their numbers, their strategies, the extent of their firepower. For all we know, they could be sitting on an entire mine’s worth of enhanced sif ores.

“Trying to lure out the feather mafia from a position of such glaring disadvantage – it’s idiocy. Getting yourself killed on the battlefield in a bid to avenge the dead might assuage your deep-seated survivor's guilt, but it won’t solve anything.”

Ruban gripped the sifblade at his hip, forcing himself not to draw the weapon. “And the alternative?” He asked through gritted teeth. “Allow another few hundred people to die while we sit around collecting data?”

“Yes, because that data could end up saving thousands.”

Ruban laughed, the sound lacking any trace of humor. “And who’ll choose the sacrificial lambs for this noble cause? I thought the feather-born were supposed to be the impulsive ones.”

“Impulsive, not idiotic,” Ashwin muttered, fluffing his feathers as he gazed into the mirror. “But there’s no arguing with you now, is there? If the gangs have the slightest suspicion of my true identity–”

“They won’t!” Hiya hopped off the bed, clutching three cosmetic tubes and two brushes in her hands. “I did the makeup for last year’s annual play at school. Mahi Ma’am said I was brilliant! Nobody could tell Lina’s moustache was fake.”

Ashwin turned to smile at her. “More comforting words have never been spoken.”

“And you’re sure a random scout from Vaan would be enough to draw the mafia out?” Ruban frowned at Ashwin. “I’d think the prince of the realm would present a more compelling temptation.”

“It might have, if they thought they had any hope of overpowering me. If it was just the humans, I might’ve considered baiting them. But the mafia is working with the Exiles. Even if the humans are ignorant, the Aeriels would know not to attack me…not if they recognize me in time to retreat.”

Ruban grinned. “For once, your arrogance is oddly comforting.”

“Besides, scouts are easy pickings. They usually work alone so as not to attract attention, either from the Exiles or the human governments. And the newer ones often don’t know much about earth.” Ashwin’s expression darkened. “Five of Safaa’s scouts have been killed in the last two months. The last one died in North Ragah.”

“The one who saved that woman and her child from the falling building?”

“No,” Ashwin smiled absently. “Heiqaa survived. But she’s one of Shehzaa’s. A soldier, not a scout. A couple of barely-trained Exiles couldn’t have harmed her. She’d have saved Zareen too, if she hadn’t been holding back–” He pressed his lips together, turning back to glare at his own reflection in the mirror.

An awkward silence followed, broken only by Hiya, who set to work on Ashwin’s wings. Ruban watched as she carefully blended a variety of makeup products, inspecting each ingredient with a critical eye, before using a brush to apply the mixture to the tip of a twitching wing. Ashwin giggled, the luxuriant brush tickling his feathers as it glided over the wingtip, covering up the crimson markings with makeup.

“Be still,” Hiya admonished, poking his other wing. Obediently, Ashwin dug his teeth into his bottom lip and held still, hands folded rigidly in his lap. He was clearly struggling not to wriggle away from the brush and dissolve into laughter.

Ruban’s lips twitched. A lifetime ago, during the fight with Reivaa at Zikyang forest, Ashwin had told him that the wings were one of the most vulnerable parts of an Aeriel’s anatomy. Until now, he hadn’t considered that they might’ve been the most sensitive, too.

His gut clenched with a stab of belated guilt. Had it just been last year that he’d buried his sifblade into Ashwin’s wing and ripped it open? He could still feel the triumph that had coursed through his veins as the blade tore through delicate flesh, muscle, and bone on its way out.

He tasted bile at the back of his throat and turned away, reaching into his pocket for his phone. It was time to inform Simani.

Ashwin’s sudden, incredulous laughter made him turn back towards the dressing table, fingers gripping his phone like a lifeline. Hiya was sticking something into Ashwin’s hair, earning an appreciative chuckle from the Aeriel.

Ruban stepped closer, squinting at the lustrous item in Ashwin’s silver locks.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” Hiya asked proudly, sticking a similar piece of ornament into her own hair.

Ruban gasped, all the disparate pieces of the puzzle clicking into place.

It was a hairclip. A hairclip shaped like an airplane, made from Aeriel feathers. Two hairclips, in fact – one in Hiya’s hair and the other in Ashwin’s.

“They’re incredible,” Ashwin said, gently prodding the clip in his hair as he inspected it in the mirror. “Where did you learn to make these?”

“Craft class at school. Mahi Ma’am said–”

“Don’t wear it to school, for God’s sake,” Ruban said faintly. “They’ll think I’m accepting bribes from the mafia. Nobody’s ever bought ornaments made from Aeriel feathers on a government salary.”

“I’m not stupid.” Hiya rolled her eyes. “This is for Ashwin. And me. It’s our secret!”

She held out her pinky finger. Ashwin crossed it with his own, nodding solemnly. “It’s certainly the most judicious use of Aeriel feathers I’ve ever seen. And I’ve been watching humans fight over them for centuries.”

Ruban’s phone rang, Simani’s name flashing on the screen. She must have received a missed call before Ruban had managed to disconnect the line. He stepped out of the room, allowing the sounds of hiccup-y laughter to fade behind him before he answered the call.

Breathing in deeply, Ruban told Simani he knew when the feather mafia was going to strike next, and where. He ignored the skepticism in her voice and laid out the plan for an ambush that he and Ashwin had come up with, omitting any parts that might hint at the latter’s role in the scheme.

She sounded less than convinced, but she was his partner. They’d worked together for more than half a decade, professionally attached at the hip since the beginning of their careers, and Ruban knew she would support him if he decided to go through with it.

He swallowed the guilt he felt about lying to her and forged ahead. Not even a week had passed since the massacre in North Ragah. If something like that happened again, Ruban wouldn’t be able to live with the knowledge that he’d had a way to prevent it, and had allowed it to happen nonetheless.

Having Simani think him a liar was a small price to pay, to keep that nightmare from becoming reality.

***

The deafening roar of an energy shell detonating made Ruban’s ears ring. He brought the SUV to a screeching halt behind a cluster of sal trees and leapt out, his sifblade in one hand and a pistol in the other. Simani flung open the opposite door and stepped out of the vehicle, similarly armed.

The sun was setting into the horizon, and the sight of the devastated meadow sent a chill down Ruban’s spine. They’d decided on these deserted fields on the outskirts of Ragah as the perfect spot for an encounter with the feather mafia, because there was little risk of any civilians getting caught in the crossfire. But no amount of planning and strategizing could have prepared him for the numerous uneven craters that littered the ground and the stench of burned grass in the air. The few trees left standing would provide little cover in the event of an attack.

The flash of another detonating energy shell in the distance told Ruban that an attack was currently underway. Exchanging a glance with Simani, he tightened his grip on his weapons and sprinted for cover deeper into the meadow. If they were still fighting, that at least meant Ashwin was alive.

Ruban found cover behind a lone sal tree further into the field, which had once been part of a larger cluster of trees. Now, only one of them was left standing. He skipped over broken branches, jagged roots, and other debris, before pressing himself up against the massive trunk and extracting the small military binoculars from his pocket. The tree wouldn’t provide much by way of protection if an Aeriel decided it wanted him dead, but Ruban hoped to escape their notice until he had a better sense of their position and numbers.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Simani had taken up position behind some dense shrubs about five meters away. She held a sifkren in each hand and seemed to be contemplating the perfect angle for the first strike. Steeling himself, Ruban focused on his own investigation of the battlefield. Distraction was not a luxury he could afford tonight.

As the smoke and dust from the last energy shell cleared, Ruban caught his first glimpse of Ashwin. He tightened his grip on the binoculars and pressed himself harder against the tree trunk, trying to get a better view.

Ashwin flew a few feet above the ground, being circled by two Aeriels while some leather-clad thugs below clumsily threw sifblades at him. He dodged these attacks easily enough while keeping his eyes fixed on the Aeriels, one of whom was an X-class. The air around the three Aeriels crackled with energy and Ruban tensed instinctively, bracing himself.

The night sky lit up with the tell-tale flash of an energy shell, the ground reverberating with the impact of the detonation. Ashwin went careening backwards. Wings flared to absorb the impact of the shell, his right hand was outstretched in a gesture that Ruban recognized immediately. The air sizzled and sparks flew around Ashwin’s fingertips. He was about to attack.

Less than ten meters behind Ashwin, the glint of a sifblade caught Ruban’s eye. Between one moment and the next, the blade was in the air, zipping towards Ashwin, who was too focused on the other Aeriels and his own energy shell to notice an attack from the humans below.

A shot rang out, and Ruban noted belatedly that he had pulled the trigger. Knocked off its trajectory by his bullet, the sifblade was now lying harmlessly in a crater close to the combatants. Ashwin whirled, directing the energy shell at the thug who had attacked him. The man was lifted off his feet by the force of the blast and hurled into the tree behind which Ruban was hiding.

Upon impact with the sturdy tree trunk, Ruban heard his skull crack. The man collapsed to the ground, his scorched corpse unmoving.

A pair of sifkren flew out from the nearby shrubs, catching the X-class in the wings. With a piercing screech, it collapsed. This left Ashwin and the other Aeriel to face off against each other, as the gangsters redirected their attention to the newly-arrived Hunters.

Shots rang out in quick succession. Ruban spared a glance at Simani before jumping into the fray. There was no point hiding anymore, and he prayed that backup would arrive soon. An X-class wouldn’t be killed by a couple of sifkren. And Ruban didn’t want to find out what would happen when it recovered enough to rejoin the fight. The odds were sufficiently stacked against them, as it was.

Excluding the dead gangster, there were seven humans in the mafia’s Hunting party. They probably hadn’t expected they’d need more manpower hunting down a single scout from Vaan.

Working together, Ruban and Simani made quick work of the first few thugs who attacked them. Energy shells rang out in the distance but Ruban was too busy with his own fight to pay much attention to Ashwin’s.

By the time he noticed the felled X-class struggling upright, its eyes fixed on Simani, it was too late. Ruban’s blood froze. He bellowed a warning at his partner, who was fighting a muscled thug at least twice her size.

She drove her sifblade into the man’s belly – despite being made of sif, it was essentially a dagger – and turned. Paralyzed, Ruban watched her eyes widen as she registered the energy shell flying towards her.

A flurry of movement in the air, and another shell zipped into Ruban’s line of sight. A couple of meters away from Simani, the two shells collided and detonated at once, allowing her a few precious seconds to leap for cover.

Blinded by the blast, Ruban caught only a glimpse of Ashwin as he flew past him. He casually gutted the two gangsters Ruban had been fighting before the Aeriel attacked Simani, then landed gracefully in front of the X-class and delivered a blow that sent his opponent careening backwards.

Grabbing the opportunity, Ruban threw his sifblade. A moment later, the X-class fell back, the sifblade embedded in its chest. A burst of light issued forth from the wound, then they were plunged back into darkness once again. The Aeriel was dead.

He glanced at Ashwin, whose eyes were fixed on the Aeriel that remained in the air. With a flap of his wings, Ashwin was off the ground, zipping towards his opponent as Ruban watched.

“Why didn’t you kill it?” Simani’s voice jerked him out of his reverie. She dashed forward to pull Ruban’s sifblade out of the dead Aeriel’s chest. “That Aeriel. It was standing right there, beside the X-class. In fact, why didn’t it kill us? I know it had the opportunity to.”

“I think we’re on the same side, for now.” His heart thundering against his ribcage, Ruban grabbed the sifblade Simani held out to him. The familiar solidity of the carved hilt was a comfort, an anchor in the storm. “How many are left?”

Simani’s eyes flitted across the darkened meadow, taking stock. Of the human combatants, two had been killed by Ashwin. Ruban had killed one of the gangsters and had watched another get stabbed in the gut by Simani.

“Three, I think,” she said, confirming his calculations. “They’ve scattered, though. Won’t be easy to find in the darkness.”

“We have to find them. We need to capture at least one of the gangsters alive, preferably more. That was the whole point of—”

A shot rang out, and a bullet whizzed past his ear.

Before he could react, Simani fired off two shots in the direction from which the gunshot had originated. Lowering her weapon, she sprinted into the darkness, followed closely by Ruban.

Moments later, the roar of a powerful engine reached his ears. A large black SUV — the kind typically used by the Hunter Corps — swept into view, screeching to a halt a few feet ahead. A team of four leapt out of the vehicle and were quickly briefed by Simani.

Ruban smiled. At long last, they outnumbered their enemies.

A brief gunfight ensued, and the remaining gangsters were soon rounded up. Overhead, the battle between the two Aeriels raged on. Ruban squinted at the sky through the smoke and dust that now covered the meadow. Ashwin’s current opponent wasn’t even an X-class. He wondered if Ashwin was dragging it out because he really wanted to maintain his cover, or if he simply didn’t want to kill another Aeriel.

The captured thugs were handcuffed and trussed into the two SUVs. The backup team took one of them, while the other two were forced into the car in which Ruban and Simani had arrived.

The black SUV roared to life and began inching forward through the debris.

Simani placed a hand on the hood of their car and glanced back at the scorched meadow. “One of them is going to survive the night.”

The Aeriels. Ruban closed his eyes. “And we’ll Hunt down the one that does. No point wasting our energy when they’re killing each other for us. It’s not like they’re going to hurt any civilians out here.”

“And the wings?”

He shrugged. “Not worth getting ourselves killed over. We’ve gotten what we need. The sooner we can make them talk, the sooner this whole operation can be dismantled, once and for all.”

“Yes, but—”

A blazing energy shell streaked through the air and hit the black SUV, which had just reached the edges of the meadow.

The explosion nearly knocked Ruban off his feet. The stench of burned flesh and scorched metal assailed his nostrils. He gripped Simani’s shoulder to keep himself upright, his other hand unsheathing the sifblade at his belt.

“My God,” Simani whispered, her eyes fixed on the destroyed SUV. “There’s another.”

The next few minutes were a blur of shells, sifblades, and bullets. After destroying the black SUV, the new Aeriel attacked the remaining Hunters and their vehicle. The Aeriel was fast, and it was all Ruban and Simani could do to avoid its energy shells. There was barely any opening for a counterattack.

They moved away from the car, hoping to keep it from being blown to smithereens by distracting the Aeriel. The only two gangsters still alive were inside that car. The third had been with the backup team in the black SUV, and had died with them.

Soon, Ruban and Simani stood back to back a few meters from their car. The Aeriel circled them overhead, the air crackling with energy. Ruban gripped his sifblade and felt Simani tense behind him. If they failed, there wouldn’t be a second chance.

Ephemeral light flickered atop the Aeriel’s outstretched hand, as the shell took shape. Ruban sucked in a deep breath and adjusted his stance, preparing for the attack. Behind him, Simani mirrored his movements.

As the shell solidified, the Aeriel raised its arm, lips twisted in a sneer. Ruban feinted to the left, hoping to draw the creature away from Simani. Once she was in the clear—

The Aeriel’s eyes widened and it jerked forward, the light dissipating from around its fingers. Ruban leapt back, glancing at Simani to ensure that she’d done the same. An energy shell had hit the Aeriel in the back; not strong enough to kill it, but nonetheless a staggering blow.

Behind it, Ashwin glided forward, one hand outstretched. He’d attacked the Aeriel before it could release its shell.

The Aeriel whirled on Ashwin with a snarl. Pulling its injured wings closer, it barreled towards him, leaving Ruban and Simani behind.

The two Aeriels clashed midair. Ashwin was thrown backwards but recovered quickly, zipping through the air until he’d managed to land a solid kick in his opponent’s abdomen. The Aeriel screeched and threw an energy shell, which grazed Ashwin’s left wing before detonating against a tree in the distance.

Ashwin didn’t reciprocate the attack. Instead, he simply circled his opponent, his movements both wary and curious. Ruban trudged forward, squinting through the murky night air to try and discern his intention. This was not the time for games.

As he watched, the two Aeriels exchanged a few more blows. The newcomer kicked Ashwin in the gut, then grabbed him by the throat and shouted something in his face. Ashwin twisted in his captor’s grip and landed a blow on the side of its head, shouting back as he freed himself.

The other Aeriel groaned, reeling backwards, then broke into sudden laughter and let loose another energy shell. As Ashwin scrambled to dodge it, the shell struck him in the shoulder. Still, he refused to retaliate, placidly circling his opponent and exchanging blows every few seconds. The shouting continued.

Ruban could make out some of the words, but not enough to make any sense of the conversation — if a conversation was what this was.

“Come on, we have to go!” Simani gripped his arm tight enough to leave a bruise. “We’ve to get out of here before they notice us again.”

Ruban nodded. They dashed over to the car and leapt in, Simani turning the key in the ignition even before the doors had closed behind them.

He wanted to shake Ashwin back to his senses, tell him to snap out of it and fight. But whatever game Ashwin was playing, he couldn’t allow Simani to get killed because of it. They’d suffered enough losses for one day.

The engine revved and Simani turned the steering wheel. The car raced out of the meadow. Ruban kept his eyes trained on the battling Aeriels, his sifblade in one hand and a pistol in the other. But the Aeriels seemed to neither notice nor care what was happening below them.

Soon, they’d left the meadow behind and were hurtling down a deserted highway. The car jerked and swayed, making the handcuffed gangsters in the backseat swear and groan. Ruban ignored them in favor of sheathing his blade and holstering his gun.

“Who’s Maya?”

Simani’s soft question made Ruban’s head jerk as he turned to look at her. “What?”

“The Aeriels kept saying that. Maya. What is that? A person? A place? A code of some kind? I couldn’t catch most of what they were saying. So I thought you might know.”

Ruban frowned. Maya... Amidst all the mayhem, that was the only word he’d heard the Aeriels repeat more than once. And Simani had picked up on it too. He’d heard that name before, but his mind drew a blank every time he tried to remember where and when.

“I don’t know. I heard as much as you did, probably less.” He smiled thinly. “Your hearing was always sharper than mine.”

“Yes, but you’re familiar with that Aeriel. The one that saved us.” Simani’s eyes were trained on the road ahead. “So I imagined you’d know more than me.”

“Familiar with—” Ruban glanced at the rearview mirror. The two thugs were too busy struggling with their bonds to spare any attention for the Hunters or their conversation. “What’re you talking about?”

Simani shrugged. “That Aeriel — the one the mafia were Hunting — it’s more powerful than it was letting on. And it was trying to protect us, you know it was. If it could overpower an X-class that easily, why hadn’t it done so until I was staring death in the face? It had been toying with the mafia and their Aeriels until we arrived. And it’s doing so with the new one right now. Come to think of it, the only time it used an energy shell on the newcomer was when we were about to get fried alive.”

“Perhaps because we were on the same side? The mafia clearly wanted to kill it; and those Aeriels were helping with the Hunt—”

“And you know this because?”

“Of course I don’t know it. It’s just—”

“You didn’t kill it when you had the chance, after it fought off the X-class. You didn’t even try. But it wasn’t just that. You knew it wouldn’t kill us, didn’t you? Hell, half the time I thought you were relying on it to help us. And for what — enemy of an enemy makes a friend?” Her lips curled into a sneer. “I’m not an idiot, Ruban. Do me the courtesy of not treating me like one. You know that Aeriel, don’t you? And more importantly, it knows you.”

***