It had not occurred to Leah that she would be famous in Algi. She knew the five were famous, and she knew she was the only member of the group not from Volst or its provinces, but that had somehow never translated into her being famous in her homeland.

“Do I have to be visible?” Leah asks, as they stand in the shade of the arched passageway joining the tower to the Hold proper.

“Everyone knows the role you’ve played,” Solace points out gently.

“How much of it?” Leah asks, and Solace laughs. “No really, what do people think I’ve done?”

“Frankly I’d like to know as well,” Seffon says.

“Jealous that she’ll get the credit?”

Seffon frowns. “Hardly. She entirely deserves it. But too much focus on her could be bad.”

Solace waves a hand in acknowledgement of this. “Fair. This is what I know: the people of Valerin were told she worked for the pretender-lord. Then, they saw her walk into the square and save their framed future Lady from death, throwing open the curtain to reveal the hidden plans of the Auzzo family and their warrior-mage. Then, they helped her sneak into the city by night, and saw her walk out the next day to surrender herself to the warrior-mage, to try to buy the city some peace. Then, she worked for several hours in the hospital, saving many lives. Finally, she helped their beloved Baroness escape the fall of the keep, only to be confronted again by the enemy at the final moments before freedom – and the last thing she did before facing down the captain there was send away the fisherman who had brought them to shore, to spare him and give the Baroness a distraction for one last chance at escape.”

“Surely not everyone knows all these details…” Leah says, cheeks warm.

Solace laughs. “They are a city occupied by a magical enemy. They will take any hope they can find, and your adventures have been quite inspiring, if often ill-conceived. And now, as I understand it, you are in possession of testimony that proves this war is a usurpation; testimony that could bring allies pouring in to liberate their nation.” Solace straightens Leah’s vest and brushes it clean. “You’re a proper hero, now. Everyone will want to meet you – certainly the nations who fly in to the rescue on the strength of your word.”

“But it’s not my word,” Leah says, desperately. “We haven’t sent any of the missives ourselves. And even what I know from Eschen, it’s only fuzzy memories. I won’t have to be public, will I?” She knows she sounds a little petulant towards the end, but she can’t quite help it.

Seffon stifles a laugh; Solace is not so kind. “It won’t be as bad as all that,” she says, wrapping an arm around Leah’s shoulders. “Most people will just want to shake your hand and thank you, maybe offer you money – which you must of course graciously refuse – or gifts – which you must graciously accept.”

“You sound like you’ve done this before,” Leah says with a smirk. “Did you get up to some heroics with your party, back in the day?”

“Heroics? Pfft.” Solace waves a hand dismissively. “Never on purpose.”

“Have you any idea how quickly Bair will reach a decision, having received the missives?” Seffon asks.

Solace tilts her head. “Depends how long it takes them to agree. For something like this, probably not long.”

“Then we must be ready to leave soon,” Seffon says, returning to formal. “The battalion I sent will need to be ready to switch sides at exactly the right moment, assuming we get to choose the moment, and if the other nations send representatives I ought to be there to meet them.”

“Isn’t that a little dangerous, what with the…” Leah waves a hand vaguely. “The legal situation of the Enterlan?”

“Not if I present myself as an independent,” Seffon says. “Secession from a nation is tolerated even where…” He waves a hand. “Is not.”

Solace looks between them with narrowed eyes. “You two have been up to some shenanigans since I left, haven’t you?”

Leah elbows her. “You’re one to talk.” She looks back at Seffon. “Go plan whatever needs to be planned. I’ll catch her up on what she’s missed.”

Seffon nods, a hand already raised to rustle his hair. He murmurs something about “supply chains” as he goes, heading back into the Hold.

Leah waits until he is gone before taking Solace and leading her in the other direction, towards the study. Solace follows willingly, looking around curiously. Once safely closed away inside, Leah breathes easier.

“How many faces?”

“I beg your pardon?”

Leah shrugs. “Every time I talk to you I’m left with so many questions, and you always drag me into some weird adventure or other before I can ask them. So I’m getting this one in before you do whatever it is you came here to do. How many personas do you have? And how has Seffon never realised?”

Solace smirks, pulling the candle out of her sleeve and twirling it. “Even unlit it’s a powerful boost to my casting. I can make my visual illusions credible to all but the most careful scrutiny. My voice is harder to change, but I’ve got some non-magic training in that. ‘Teo’ applied to this school about a year ago, and has been a student here pretty consistently over that time. When I feel the need to wander, I just put on a new face, layer on some extra anti-scrying wards, and off I go.” She arranges her blue and white robes around her and collapses into a chair, her light frame barely making a dent in the padding.

“Extra wards?”

“I always have some active; enough magic users know at least one of my personas, and are interested enough in my welfare or my destruction, that they might be inclined to scry on me. It’s why your battery thing hit me so hard, when you first turned it on; ages’ worth of anti-scrys, wiped in an instant.” Solace twitches in discomfort at the memory. “I’ve got a full set of wards for every one of my well-known faces.”

“Of which you have how many?”

Solace looks her over carefully. “How many do you think I have?”

“Three for sure; Solace, Teo, and the serving girl.”

“Ah, Haybree, yes.”

Leah’s jaw drops. “Hay-something? You’re the little abused serving girl?”

Solace smiles cheekily. “I thought it was just so sweet how you and Kimry took me under your wings. A pair of mother-hens, the two of you. It made me feel less guilty about being mother-hen to you while you were off playing the hero.”

“What do you mean?”

Solace holds up her hand, and presses two fingers to her palm as though activating a bracelet charm. Leah frowns, then gasps. “Yes indeed,” Solace says with a glint in her eye.

“Why were you listening in?”

“Because I wanted to know if you were going to do something incredibly stupid.”

“Which I did do.”

“Inevitably.”

“And how did your eavesdropping benefit me?”

“Leah,” Solace pouts, “Do you think Seffon would have gone to a warzone himself if someone hadn’t suggested that maybe you were in more trouble than you could handle? Do you think he would have brought his wife if someone hadn’t pointed out that you have a history of getting yourself wounded?”

Leah drops onto the other chair and sighs, with a small smile. “Fine, point taken. And I do appreciate it, I suppose.”

“You’d better,” Solace says, rubbing her head again. “Worst hangover of my life, carrying you lot back and forth. Even with their help.”

“For a wanderer you sure do spend a lot of time around this area,” Leah says, jokingly; Solace’s reaction, however, is to clam up. “Oh?”

“What?”

“Is there something else going on here?”

“Something other than an epoch-defining usurpation? Not that I’m aware of, no.”

Leah snickers. “Fine then, I won’t pry.”

“Much appreciated.”

“But I will ask one last thing.”

Solace rolls her eyes and gestures for Leah to go ahead.

“Who were your old adventuring teammates?”

Solace turns her head to the window, face suddenly very tired. “It’s been a long time.”

Leah gives her a snarky smile. “It can’t be that long; you don’t look much older than I do.”

“Illusions, remember?” Solace waves the candle.

“Battery, remember?” Leah says. Solace looks over at her sharply, and Leah shrugs. “When I turned it on it would have dispelled any illusion, even with that candle active – and the candle wasn’t lit at the time. If your face were an illusion, it would have gone away.”

“Well noted,” Solace says tautly.

“It means a lot, you know.” When Solace looks to her for more, Leah smiles. “That the first face you showed me was your real one. Very trusting of you.”

“The first face I showed you was Haybree, remember?”

Leah shrugs. “Never got to know her. But I did get to know you.”

“So you did.”

“So?” Leah prompts. Solace turns to her again, this time in impatience. “Who were your old teammates?”

Solace rubs her face and sighs. “Nosy child…” She looks out the window again. “I had a variety of teammates, but there were two who always stuck with me. One usually went by Jeanie, and the other by Dove. Jeanie was a hands-on sort of problem solver, always trying to step in and fix things the first time around. Dove was more patient, to a fault; she’d put things in motion and then step back to watch them slowly unfold, and would refuse to move on or intercede further until her plan was complete. I was there to balance the two of them; to be patient and considered, but not too invested. I kept the pacing, made sure we didn’t lose ourselves in any one task, any one problem. Everyone else…we had magic users, and thieves, and assassins, and healers, and fighters, and diplomats. They were useful, but they never really reached the same level of camaraderie Jeanie and Dove and I did.”

“What happened to them?”

“They retired.”

Leah waits for more, and Solace eventually caves.

“Jeanie got married, and Dove became a hermit. The others wanted to keep going, but it wasn’t the same anymore. I split off to do my own things, and I’ve been happy like that since then.”

“Do you still see them sometimes?”

“All the time. When I’m not busy.” Solace clears her throat. “So we had better get this usurpation stopped soon, right?”

Leah laughs and nods. “I’d like to retire from fighting someday. Become a cook. Hermit sounds nice too.”

“All warriors hope they’ll eventually retire.”

Leah looks Solace over carefully, but she gives nothing else away; her rich brown eyes are fixed on the windows of the doors leading to the balcony, pupils small, revealing the rings of colour in her irises.

“Kain’s out there,” Solace says, softly.

Leah’s eyes flick away, and she smothers a rising wave of sadness. “I know. I saw how Eschen was using her, and I think she might even have been sent by him against the Hold. He said he wasn’t going to kill her, and I have to hope that’s true, but – ”

“No, I mean Kain’s out there,” Solace repeats, standing up and approaching the doors. “I had a passive scry active, in case I was followed, and it just went off. Kain and a dozen others, approaching the south wall.”

“Oh Jesus,” Leah says, scrambling up and grabbing the charm at her wrist. “Seffon?”

A pause, then an answer, faint and distorted. “Leah? What’s so important you can’t just come talk to me?”

“Invaders approaching the south wall,” Leah says, “Kain among them. The thief one, the one Eschen is controlling.”

There is no response; the beacon is cold. Leah drops the charm and follows Solace to the balcony.

The study is on an eastern-facing part of the upper stories, but leaning over the metal railing they can just see out to the southern portion, the treetops swaying past the stone wall. The figures on the wall are too small to make out. A bell starts ringing, high and regular.

“They’ll kill her,” Leah says, dread filling her. “She’s damn good, and they won’t be able to stop her unless they kill her.”

“Then let’s get to her first,” Solace says, taking Leah’s hand and pulling her back through the halls of the Hold. They fly through, dodging servants and militiamen, emerging near the stables.

The gap between the Hold and the wall is barely enough for a carriage to pass through, grassy and rutted. Already there are guards ascending the wooden stairs, and Solace goes to join them. Leah holds her back, looking up and down the line of the wall.

“Last time the first group was a diversion, letting a smaller group sneak in a little ways away,” Leah says.

Solace nods, and closes her eyes in concentration. “Kain’s that way,” she points to the west. “Right at the base of the wall, I think.”

“How far?”

“Near the tower.”

“Same as last time, then.” Leah grabs Solace’s hand and pulls her along, past the stables and up the stairs beside the west gate.

The guards there are already on alert for any secondary attack. They make room for Leah and Solace, who pace along the top of the wall, looking down. Finally Solace points, and Leah sees them; a group of four, almost to the top of the wall, their clothing blurring their outlines against the speckled grey stone of the wall. Leah draws her dagger, and calls to the guards behind them, while Solace pulls out a sling and loads it with a clear gemstone.

The climbing figures see they have been spotted, but do not halt. Three of them reach the top and rush the guards, while the fourth tumbles over the wall and scales down the opposite side impossibly fast, the rapier at their hip clanging against the stone.

Leah closes with one and focuses on not getting injured yet again; she far outweighs the slight fighter, but he is far more dextrous. Solace whirls the sling and lets it loose, and the stone hits a second invader, coating the skin of his face with frost; he falls down stunned, but not dead. The third invader rushes towards her, and Solace ducks out of the way to let the oncoming group of guards finish the job. Four arrows and well-aimed spear jab later, and the three attackers are dead.

The one on the ground is climbing the wall to Seffon’s tower. Solace leans over the edge beside Leah. A few of the guards raise bows, and Leah waves them down. “Not yet,” she says, “Nau ye.”

The leader of the group gives her a cold look, then watches slack-jawed as a swarm of guards appear on the roof of the passage, and leaning out the third-story windows, and on the roof of the tower. The climbing figure hesitates, seeing how outnumbered they are.

Solace holds the green-flame candle, her eyes flickering and trailing wisps of the same green light. She twists her hand, and the figures begin to approach, forcing the climber back down to the ground.

The lead guard orders their people to close in, to catch the invader when they try to flee, from what Leah understands. “Take her alive,” Leah says, and the guard looks at her, confused. “Tae hẽ aliv.”

More orders are called down, by the guard commander on the wall and by others approaching from the sides. The figure cornered on the ground draws their rapier, looking around at the surrounding forces, then leaps towards a gap in the lines and stabs viciously, too quick to follow. They pierce through two illusions and are blocked by a real guard; apparently realising the trick, they begin bolting through the false guards and dodging the real ones, with surprising reliability.

Solace calls up another set, overlapping the existing guards. The illusions step sideways out of their sources, perfect duplicates, and the fencer hesitates, watching them warily. Taking a few steps back, the fencer then turns the sword point towards their own gut and makes to throw themselves forward onto it. Leah lets out a wordless yell, reaching out a hand.

A red whip of light lashes out from the door of the Hold, tangling the fencer and pulling them onto their back, the sword clattering to the dirt. Seffon steps out warily, keeping the target pinned, while the guards approach and begin binding them with physical ropes.

Leah flies down the wooden staircase, jumping the last few steps and landing in a run, straight to the figure. Seffon calls out a warning, and she slows, stopping a safe distance away. The figure’s helmet has been knocked off, and Kain’s head lies still against the ground, staring into the sky, eyes coated with a shimmering silver haze.

Seffon releases the binding, letting the red gem drop from his palm, lowering his hand very cautiously. “Ah yes,” he says, stepping forward slowly. “That’s the face.”

“It’s her,” Leah confirms, hands twitching. “It’s her, she’s not dead.” She takes a steadying breath. “What’s with her eyes?”

The guards lift Kain upright, thoroughly bound. One carries the rapier, well out of Kain’s reach. Seffon advances to look her over, holding a glass lens and muttering under his breath. “It’s a compulsion. I doubt she even knows where she is, or what she’s doing.” Seffon takes a step away, hands clasped behind his back. “Captain Eschen?”

Kain’s head lifts. “No?” she spits back, dismissively.

“Then who?”

Kain stares at him. Leah steps forward, and Kain’s eyes dart briefly to her.

Seffon hums, then nods decisively. “Ah. A mapping compulsion, low-maintenance but hard to establish. Not a full take-over. Sensible; he can’t afford to be in two places at once during a war.”

“Can you break it?” Leah asks, and Seffon raises an eyebrow.

“A mapping compulsion? Certainly.”

Kain writhes against the bindings. Her hand clenches at air, and Leah steps back. “Eschen spoke to her, back in Valerin. Like a beacon charm,” she says.

Seffon gives an order, and one of the guards takes Kain’s hand, looking it over. He tugs at something, and a bracelet snaps off, a plain iron charm dangling at the end. Seffon accepts it silently, holding it in his palm.

“Marvellous.” He pockets the charm and gestures for the guards to bring Kain along. “Leah, if you could; she will want a familiar face, when she awakens.”

Leah nods and follows along behind them, keeping Kain in front of her. I don’t know if I’m being paranoid, but I don’t want those eyes to be looking at me.

Seffon leads them to the tower. The guards lay Kain on the table, and Leah stands watch over her, at a safe distance. Solace watches from the hallway, curious, then turns to leave them in privacy. One of the guards closes the door.

Seffon lights the candles set around the room, then sets a number of items on the corners of the table – metal rings entwined with fresh ivy, and wooden spheres with dense grain lines streaking along the surface.

“Leah,” he waves at her. “Gypsum root, third floor. The one in the wide pot, purple stems. Five of the largest leaves.”

Leah nods and goes up the stairs, looking around for the specific plant; she finds it under a window, a sprawling shrubby thing with large toothed leaves striated with white. She picks five leaves and brings them back. Seffon holds out his hand without looking, and she hands them over.

He gives an order in Olues to one of the guards, who steps forward to hold Kain’s shoulders down. Seffon adds the leaves to a shallow bowl, douses them in oil, and lights them with a flint. He lays the bowl over Kain’s chest, and though Kain tries to thrash and knock it off, she cannot move enough.

Taking up position beside her, he mutters a few soft phrases, then falls silent, hand held over Kain’s head. For a few seconds nothing happens, but then a silver haze begins to seep up through Kain’s skin.

The haze glows, flowing like syrup in water, sinking and rising. Seffon’s hand constantly readjusts, seeming to slowly pull the silver up further and further out of Kain’s head. His eyes begin to shimmer and take on a haze of their own, dark and shadowy with gold highlights that glint warmly.

The light of the candles seems to grow dim. Leah stands back with the rest of the guards, watching, holding her breath for fear it might disrupt whatever is happening.

The silver haze writhes and seems to slither away, pouring over the edges of the table. Seffon’s hand tightens to a fist, and it pulls back in, swirling in a loose sphere above Kain’s eyes. He says a few more phrases and the silver sphere shrinks, then extends four neat tendrils, coiling out and spilling into the ivy-wrapped rings, twisting and sinking into the fresh green tendrils. Once the sphere above Kain’s head has completely drained away, Seffon lowers his hand. He goes to each of the shimmering rings of ivy, and places one of the wooden spheres onto them. The silver is pulled up into the wood, then fizzes into non-existence.

After the last one, the tension in the room lifts with a palpable change in both light and sound; everyone seems to breathe a sigh of relief, and the light of the candles flares back to normal.

Kain takes a gasping breath, and her eyes start darting frantically.

“Leah,” Seffon says warningly, motioning the guard away.

Leah is over by the table in an instant. She undoes the bindings around Kain’s wrists, holding her face in one hand. “Hey,” she says, soothingly. “Hey there, Kain. Take it easy a sec, okay?”

Kain does not speak, still looking around the room. The bowl on her chest still burns brightly, and Leah lifts it gently, passing it back to Seffon, the edges searing her fingers a bit. Kain sees Seffon take the bowl, and her eyes widen marginally. Leah lays a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“What’s the last thing you remember clearly, Kain?”

Kain gulps. “The river,” she says, her voice harsh and quiet. “I was trying to get out of the river, back into the keep.”

“After that?” Leah prompts, undoing the bindings at Kain’s ankles.

“I think I remember something about a…very fancy home, on the main island.” She coughs, weakly. “I feel like I just ran through a forest fire.”

“That’s normal,” Seffon says, very gently. Kain’s eyes flash over to him, unblinking.

“Why’s he here? How’d he get to Valerin?”

Leah helps Kain sit up, very slowly. “You’re not in Valerin, Kain. You’re in Jun.” She sees Seffon twitch a bit at that, but ignores him. “Do you remember Eschen?”

“You were right about him,” she says, eyes still darting to Seffon. “He was planning something. Jeno was so scared of him, and sometimes it seemed like she was almost about to say something, and then…” Kain shakes her head roughly, eyes closed. “Eschen wasn’t in Jeno’s head, was he? Like he was in mine?”

“No,” Seffon says. “What he did to Lady Jeno was much more subtle.”

“But he’s gone now?”

“The spell was severed. He cannot reach you here.”

“And is she safe?” Kain asks.

Leah blinks. “Who?”

“Jeno.”

“Oh. Yes, yes, she’s here, she’s fine.”

A knock at the door. Everyone turns to it in surprise, and at Seffon’s nod a guard opens it. Solace stands outside, holding the arm of a high-strung but composed Jeno, who completely dissolves at the sight of Kain on the table.

Kain reaches out a hand, and Jeno darts into the room, fear forgotten. She wraps Kain into a tight hug, pushing her back against the table and knocking some of the spell components off. Kain takes Jeno’s face and kisses her, eyes tearing up, stone-dust covered hands brushing the brown hair away from Jeno’s freckled face.

Leah watches for a few seconds then looks away awkwardly. All the other guards seem to be doing the same; Seffon’s eyes are fixed on Leah in confusion.

Huh. When the fuck did this happen?