It was almost noon when Rabam arrived in the proximity of the lake. He had camped in the forest for the night, checking the previous day’s hasty calculations in the last lights of day and then by memory, once the night had descended.

Only when he saw the water gleaming beyond the trees and the chairs folded to the side he remembered it was fourthday, so his grandma wasn’t coming back to fish until the next day. Provided the monks hadn’t found out about her involvement and imprisoned her.

He looked for the hiding spot he’d used during his months of living in the area. It was on the slope that led to the beginning of one of his hidden paths, a short escape route that was protected from the sentinels by the thick amount of vegetation that surrounded it. The spot was a vaguely circular area of bare ground, big enough to host a sleeping bag with a grown man inside. It was surrounded by bushes on all sides, which offered a bit of extra protection against sentinels who were walking around the area and not observing from the outposts.

He sat there, listening to the sounds around him, craning his neck outward every once in a while to catch a glimpse of the lake. His stomach growled and he wished he had taken the time to prepare some food, the previous night.

He mostly carved and slept to keep away thoughts of Mili and his failed revenge, interrupted from time to time by musings on what Aili’s plan could be, if there was one already. He roused to fish in the late evening, then huddled up inside his sleeping bag, two tunics on, the tattered one that he’d had to sew multiple times in the last months due to his numerous walks in the wood and the spare one, mostly untouched.

He awakened in the early morning and set out to wait some more. The sun was already fairly high when he heard the dust and pebbles move on the path that descended toward the lake. He stood slowly and crouched as he stepped from one tree to another, approaching the blue-green spots that blinked at him from the holes between the trees. Then he saw Lakam’s chair and his grandma sitting peacefully in the sun.

He made sure to rustle some leaves as he approached in order not to startle her, careful to stay inside the trees' shadow. Her ears weren't working as they used to, so he had to call her. She turned her head without even flinching, used as she was at hiding her true emotions. And yet, she couldn't hold back a smile.

“So you're safe, then. I didn't dare to hope for it, after that disaster.”

He stood at the limit of the area he could occupy without being spotted by the sentinels and gave her an uncertain smile.

“So everyone knows about me, now.”

“They know what you did, but not how to find you. Stay put, don’t press your luck, and they'll eventually accept they'll never get you.”

“I think it's a bit too late for that.”

“Nevertheless, you should plan carefully about what to do next. They have decided…”

A movement in the distance caught Rabam's attention, and he gestured for his grandma to stay quiet. He looked at the slope of the path that led to the village, already stepping back toward the trees. He saw a person there and his heart dropped, then dropped once more when he recognized Ebus. The way he stopped and stared with wide eyes revealed that he had seen him too.

Rabam hid behind a tree anyways, in case there was someone else with him. He waited with his heart thumping in his throat for Ebus's next move, half-expecting him to turn back and scream to call the sentinels. He had made it clear how much he disapproved of him a long time ago, when he didn’t even think him worthy of a farewell.

Instead, Ebus gripped the wrapping of cloth he was carrying tighter and started his descent toward the lake. He kept staring at the tree hiding Rabam even as he gave the bundle to his grandma.

“Sheep roast beef with… Stuff. The usual.”

“Thank you, dear,” she said, apparently oblivious to the situation, but her hands visibly trembled as she unwrapped the wooden container that held the food.

Ebus stepped toward the trees and crossed his arms.

“Come out, Rabam.”

He stepped aside, keeping a hand on the trunk. He stared back at him, unsure of what came next.

“Why the fuck are you going around the mountain helping a traitor when you should stay in exile?”

“Easy to say, for you.”

Ebus unhooked his arms and stepped forward. Rabam didn't know what to expect, so he just stepped closer to the tree and braced himself.

The hug took him by surprise, even if a part of him had hoped for it.

“I’m sorry about Milvia. We should have understood earlier what was going on in Lausune.”

Rabam shook his head and hugged him tighter. They stayed like that for a bit, then Ebus pulled away.

“You should go back to Namuri before they find you.”

“I need to do some things inside the village. Don't try to stop me. If you alert the sentinels, I will try until they capture me. Even if they might kill me.”

“They won't kill you, they would probably just send you in exile again.”

“There are rules…”

“They’re old. Times have changed.”

Rabam shook his head.

“I went too far this time.”

“Which is why you shouldn't do anything else!”

“Lower your voice,” Lakam said. “You're scaring the fish.”

They both turned to look at her. She had put the food aside and was now fishing.

Ebus sighed, bringing his attention back to Rabam.

“Why are you even doing all of this?” he asked, almost whispering.

Rabam retracted his hand from the tree and stood straighter.

“Saia was right. The secrets and divisions kept by the monks are unfair.”

“If you thought that, why did you become a sentinel? Why didn't you ask to leave the monks as soon as you knew you wanted to be with Milvia?”

“Because then I couldn't see you, or mom, or grandma, or our dads. Or do you think it was fair that we couldn't see each other for two years? That they could kill me if I said a word in edgewise?”

Ebus didn't say anything despite seeming ready to reply. He was so serious that Rabam couldn't tell whether he was changing his mind or doubling down on his opinions.

“Since you're so confused about your priorities, Ebus, tell me something,” Lakam said without turning her head. “What if Cailes had been exiled? Would you have stayed?”

Ebus sighed.

“It depends on what he did to deserve that.”

“What if he was from the villages below, would you have held back?”

Ebus turned and made some steps toward her, until he could stare at her face.

“You don't seem surprised about him being here. You already knew he would visit you.”

“I was surprised the first time, but it was a long time ago.”

Ebus looked at Rabam, then back at his grandma.

“You're involved in this?”

“Of course. And you should have been too.”

Ebus returned to the tree.

“What are you here for?”

“I don't want to hurt anyone, if that's what you want to know.”

“I want to know everything.”

“To tell the sentinels?”

“To help you, ratbrain. I don't know what you want to achieve, but I can't see you thrown into a cell again.”

Rabam gave him a quick smile and stepped away from the tree.

“I need to gather some information and take a book. More than one book, maybe.”

“Information about what?”

“What do the priors intend to do after what happened? How will they attack Vizena?”

Ebus inclined his head.

“You're well informed. Nobody knows for sure, though. The abbot, the priors and the older sentinels are having a meeting after another in the temple, but nobody else can assist.”

Rabam nodded.

“I need to enter, then. I need to know exactly what they're talking about.”

“You barely know how to enter the village,” Lakam pointed out.

“I still have my plan, but I need someone on the inside to distract the sentinels,” Rabam said, looking at Ebus

“It depends on how many I need to distract.”

“Two. The ones near the pool. I need them to go away for a bit.”

“Don't tell me you're going to enter from the tunnel.”

“Don't worry about that.”

“It's so fucking dangerous.”

“It will be way more dangerous if there are two guards waiting for me on the other side. We need to find a way to make them leave the room.”

“Oh, I know how to do that.” Ebus put a hand on his shoulder. “Focus on staying alive. I'll think about the rest.”

The two sentinels entered the kitchen before the beginning of their turn. They were young, because the older ones needed to rest after the meetings and in anticipation of the attack. Ebus had already prepared their midnight meal while two of his colleagues focused on finalising their own experimental dishes.

He gave them the food wrapped in paper as they laughed and joked with each other. He felt a bit of guilt at the idea that his actions might ruin the levity with which they talked. But if he could still speak to his brother after abandoning him in the moment when he needed him most, their friendship had a chance to survive too.

They left, and he took his time cleaning the wooden table on which he had worked the whole evening. He had time until midnight, and then he needed to act fast, before Rabam emerged from the water of the pool. Not having a way to signal him when to act unnerved him.

He helped his colleagues and they all left together. He headed toward his and Cailes’s room, then made a detour toward the pool.

There was a storage room nearby with the necessary tools to clean the pool and scrub its walls. He entered the small space and kept the door slightly ajar, one hand on the handle. He heard distant laughs and recognized the voices of the two sentinels.

He waited a bit more, past the midnight chime bells. They eventually stopped talking, the sound of their voices replaced by the tearing of the paper package in which he had wrapped their meal. It was two simple pieces of breath with meat, with a container of his best red sauce on the side. He had chosen it specifically for two reasons: first, everyone liked it, more or less secretly depending on how much weight their culinary taste had on their reputation; second, a good sentinel always checked their food to catch traces of someone else's viss before eating. But even good sentinels often forgot to check the sauce.

He waited as the silence stretched in the corridors. Finally, he heard their voices again, which meant that they had finished eating. He closed the door, then his eyes, relaxing his back against the wall. He started counting under his breath, thinking about the emotions contained in the viss he’d given them. The sauce needed to be digested before they were assimilated by the body, influencing the sentinels’ viss.

He’d thought about making them fall asleep, but when they’d wake up they'd know they had been manipulated and who the possible culprit could be. So he had decided to use the opposite strategy and put extremely agitated viss in the sauce, helped by the constant worry for his brother.

The voices reprised, a bit louder than they had been, a bit unstable, until they turned outright hostile. The sentinels started arguing out loud, uncaring of the late hour. Ebus heard doors further down the corridor open, and he almost cursed out loud. He didn't need more people around.

After two last shouts, there was silence, then heavy steps left the pool toward the opposite end of the corridor.

Ebus waited in silence, breathing slowly. He heard the doors gradually close, the remaining sentinel step around the room. In addition to the agitation, there was a hint of guilt, another thing that was easy to feel when thinking about Rabam. Unfortunately, he couldn’t control which sentinel would be influenced the most. He could only hope that the one in the pool room would be the most affected, or he'd have to improvise.

He was startled when the sentinel in the room screamed 'Wait!' and ran out. The steps stopped, then reprised toward the end of the corridor, until Ebus couldn't hear them anymore.

He waited for some instants, breathing hard, then detached himself from the wall and took a mop from the tools in the closet.

He carefully stepped out, checking the corridor in both directions as he approached the pool. He stepped closer to the water and looked in, but it was empty and still at the light of the torches.

He swallowed his worries and stepped back toward the entrance, holding the mop like a weapon, even if that couldn't save him if the sentinels came back.

Rabam broke the surface of the water and gripped the shore.

“Fuck,” he yelled, then laid down panting.

“What's the matter, dear?” his grandma asked.

She had insisted to stay past sleep time, telling the sentinel who came to look for her that she wanted to fish some more, all while Rabam hid in the forest.

He rested his face on his arm. The wind bit the half of him that was laying on the mud, while the cold water of the lake froze the rest.

“They added a grate.”

Rabam touched his forehead where he had hit the cold grid of metal. Judging by how small the holes were, it was put there to block snakes. Not that he could be sure, since he had swum in the dark, trusting his touch and the memories of the many practice sessions he had made before meeting Saia. The light only started near the end of the tunnel, close to the pool, and it wasn't much. He suspected it became brighter the closer he got to the pool, but he never went that far.

He heaved himself out of the water.

“What now?” his grandma asked, still sitting in her chair with fingers crossed on her belly.

Rabam sat down on the grass, some steps away from the small torch planted on the ground she used to light the area.

“I’ve failed. Again.”

He took the neck of his tunic in his palm and sent his viss into the pattern made of purple string. The heat irradiated from his chest and stopped his shivering.

“I asked you ‘what now’, dear. Your brother is waiting for you.”

“There's nothing I can do. I didn't think of that, I've hit it with a stone but it doesn't break. It’s not that resistant, but I’m not strong enough. There’s just a bit of air at the very top, it’s difficult to move while straining like that.”

“Then find another way in. Tell Ebus that you can’t.”

“How?”

“I don't know. But if you don't come out of that pool he'll get in trouble and think that you’re dead, and when he’ll find out the truth he'll never speak to you again. And forget about asking for his help.”

“Getting myself captured would be worse for both.”

“So you'll just wait? Sit here and sulk? I don't know how you ever thought you could hurt the monks, with that attitude. Maybe it would be better if they just captured you.”

“I know. But I don't know what to do.”

“Either you think a bit more or you get brave fast. Ebus is waiting for you, and if one of you must get captured, it shouldn't be him.”

Rabam felt his agitation rise and his body becoming uncomfortably warmer. He realized he was sending the tunic more viss than necessary and retracted his hand.

He looked at the purple dot, thinking about the pattern sewn on the inside of his clothes.

He stood and took out his carving knife. He was aware of the curious gaze of his grandma while he walked up to a tree and cut out a low branch that seemed thick enough.

He walked back to his backpack, took out his spare tunic and turned it inside out. He sat close to the torch, his back to the mountain. In the remote chance a sentinel looked toward lake Naurbi, they would have known there was someone else there besides the fisher, but he needed light to work. What he was trying to accomplish was already hard enough.

He put the pinky of his hand on top of the dot, pushing his viss into it, then moved the cloth around with his other fingers.

“What are you doing, now?” his grandma asked.

“I can weaken the grate, maybe.”

He felt the cloth become warmer under his hands as he twisted it, moving the pattern too. He scrunched some lines together, bent some others and kept them in place with stones, trying to follow the general principles of magic from the very basic lessons he’d taken as a sentinel, years before. Mostly, he let the warmth guide him, replicating the twists that made it more intense.

The cloth became so hot it was painful to hold down, so he wore Saia’s glove to handle it, even if it made his movements awkward.

A flame started at one extremity of the pattern. He patted it down, careful not to ruin the work he’d made up to that point.

“Should be hot enough,” he mumbled, taking the cylinder of wood in one hand and the carving knife in the other.

He started to copy the pattern onto a cylinder of wood cut from the branch, creating grooves instead of using a string. Normally there were calculations to be made to make sure the pattern was the same when taken from a relatively flat surface to the round shape of the cylinder, but he'd had enough practice with statues to make a rough estimate. It wasn't the kind of pattern that required extreme precision, at least, or it wouldn't have ever worked on the moving cloth of the tunics.

“Can I have one of your needles?” he asked.

His grandma nodded again and pointed at her bag. She had more than one needle, both to mend clothes and attach plumes to her bait.

He took the longest one he could find and forced it inside an extremity of the cylinder of wood, rotating it so that it would stick. He finished carving the grooves all around it, adding some lines he’d seen on the binoculars, that could amplify the effect of an already existing pattern. He wished it was enough to give it the intensity he needed. He wished he'd studied magic a lot more.

“You'll burn your hand”, his grandma commented.

“I’ll use the glove,” he said. “And the effect should be all focused on the tip.”

He got up too fast and his head spun.

“Come here,” his grandma said.

He stepped closer and she took his hand. He felt a surge of new viss slithering through his skin.

“You wasted a lot of energy. Be careful this time.”

He nodded, already feeling a bit better. He put away the carved wood and needle into his deep pockets with the carving knife, made sure that the backpack was well hidden in the grass, then turned to face the lake. He took several deep breaths while he advanced into the freezing water up to his neck, then a last one before plunging into the depths.

He went down, kicking with his legs and feeling the water in front of him with his hand. He touched the bottom of mud and pushed on it to propel himself forward, up to the point where it gave way to stone and dropped down for several armlengths. He descended some more, gripping the stones of the vertical wall, until he felt a void.

The tunnel was large enough to let a person through, and from what he'd seen the size remained the same until the end. He pushed and kicked the ceiling to move forward faster, a hand always in front of him to catch the grate.

His fingers bumped against the metal. He gripped it and pushed himself up, until his face scraped against the ceiling. There was a small layer of air there, probably the reason why the monks thought it was safer to build the grate in that spot.

He took out the tool he'd made and gripped it tight for fear it would slip, since he couldn’t feel it well with the glove on. He sent his viss forward until the wood felt uncomfortably hot, then put the tip of the needle against the base of one of the bars of metal that composed the grate. He increased the flux of viss gradually, the tip of the needle glowing slightly orange in the dark.

Once he felt that the metal in that spot was hot enough, he hit it with a stone. It took two more tries to uproot it, three small bars detaching from the rock. He found out they hadn’t been secured inside holes, but just stuck tightly there, so the grate wasn’t as stable as it looked. Displacing two more bars on the opposite side was even easier, and then he just kicked and hit the grate until it slid out of place with a scraping sound.

He breathed deeply as he put away his tools, fumbling in the dark. His lungs were burning, but he swam on anyways, knowing that the end of the tunnel was close.

The penumbra became a light overhead. He kicked in its direction until he broke the surface of the pool with a huge breath, too exhausted to care about the sentinels. He flailed weakly when someone took him by the back of his tunic, then calmed down in recognizing Ebus's voice.

“Out of the pool, quickly.”

He found the border and pulled himself up with his brother's help. Ebus lightly pushed him toward the entrance.

“Storage room to the left.”

He put a mop down as he spoke, absorbing the drops of water and the footprints Rabam was leaving behind.

He found a room with the door slightly ajar and entered. In the small space before the pile of tools, he saw a folded tunic and a large towel. He dried and changed himself, then waited for Ebus with his forehead against the wall and his eyes closed. He didn't dare to sit for fear of dozing off.

Ebus entered shortly after.

“They're coming back, so we have to wait a bit before leaving. Why did it take you so long?”

“There was a grate.”

That reminded him of the tools in his tunic's pocket. He transferred them into the new one's, then bundled his old clothes inside the wet towel.

Ebus checked the corridor.

“Looks like they're back into the room. Follow me from a distance, so I can distract anyone we might meet before they see you.”

Rabam waited for him to be halfway through the corridor before stepping softly behind him.

The walk from the pool to Ebus and Cailes's room wasn't long. His brother ushered him through the door and closed it behind him.

Seeing the inside of their room again sent him a wave of nostalgia. He’d always appreciated how much space they had at disposal, enough for a large bed, a drawer that looked ancient in an elegant way, and a desk under the little square window that gave to the outside. Cailes was sitting in front of it with the back to the door, so he didn't see Rabam until he turned to greet Ebus. His smile disappeared and he sprang up.

“Rabam?” he asked, looking at Ebus.

“Yes. I didn't want him to get captured, so I'm helping him.”

“Help doing what? Why am I learning of this just now?”

“I need books and some information, then I'll leave,” Rabam said. “I don't want to put you in danger more than I'm already doing.”

“Why do you need it?”

Rabam lowered his head.

“I can't tell you, sorry.”

Cailes's accusing gaze turned to Ebus.

“He risks a lot if they capture him, this time. The abbot is furious and we're all scared that what happened with Saia will happen again.”

“Precisely why you shouldn't be helping him. Giving him anything will bring us back to that situation, and we might lose everything this time.”

Ebus looked lost on what to say. He nodded, eyes to the floor.

“You're right, but we can't have him captured.”

“We should at least stop helping him.”

“You knew me, Cailes,” Rabam said. “I’m the same person. I was exiled because I’d fallen in love and didn't want to abandon my family, and when the abbot and the priors exiled me they decided to send me away from both. And now Mili's dead.”

Cailes's expression softened a bit.

“I know you're not a bad person, but they've seen you dealing with Saia after she betrayed us.”

“She only wanted to save her family.”

“That's not true. She took the power and left without even touching Vizena, and now we know she was involved too.”

Rabam stared at him with his mouth half-open, realizing how many things they didn't know, how much more he couldn't tell them.

“If they capture him because I didn't help him today, I'll never live it down,” Ebus said. “Sorry.”

“So you'll do everything he asks you to?”

“No. I'll never talk to him again after this is over. But today I have to fix what I did two years ago.”

“You failed to consider me in this decision. It's a huge risk you're asking me to take.”

“I know and I appreciate it immensely. I'll make it up to you somehow.”

“‘Somehow’ means food, right?”

Ebus made a tentative smile.

“Mostly.”

Cailes sighed in a mockingly exasperated way. When he looked at Rabam, his eyes were sharp again.

“I’ll be helping you because you're my husband's brother and part of my family. Don't betray our trust or I'll swear I'll do everything I can to make you pay.”

Rabam could only answer with a quick nod. He eyed the soft rug in front of the bed.

“Not so fast,” Cailes said. “I want to know what your plan is to take the stuff you need. They need to know who you are to give you books from the library.”

“I can take the books,” Ebus said, earning a glare.

Rabam looked around the room.

“Do you have some makeup?”

Cailes nodded and pointed at one of the desk's drawers.

“Mostly basic stuff for the ceremonies.” He stopped for a moment, looking thoughtful. “Do you plan to hide with that?”

Rabam shrugged.

“I don't know yet. I'm trying to come up with something.”

Cailes opened the drawers and started to take out pillows and sheets.

“That's all we have.”

“Don't worry, I'm used to sleeping in the forest.”

Cailes gave him a weirded out look, then sighed.

“I wish the abbot had accepted to let you live in Lausune. This whole situation is fucked up.”

The second Rabam took the pillow and sheet, all the energies in his body left him. He laid down in a bundle of cloth as he tried to come up with an answer to Cailes’s comment, but he was asleep before he could think of one.