"Sir, that might not be-”

“Qeuieryit!”

When the ground beneath Lord Kalan shattered, Huan panicked and slapped on Tiger’s mask. He hoped to grab his sister and escape, but Tiger overwhelmed the thief and seized control. Without a glance at Mei, it fled, heading straight for the edge of the square.

“Huan!”

Mei?

Tiger shoved the thief into the corner of his mind and snarled at Mei. She skidded to a stop, her hand on her accursed knife.

No, don’t stop! The thief rushed to the fore and tried to push Tiger out of the way.

Tiger knocked the thief back. They needed to move and this mental scuffle was keeping them in place. Let me save us. Tiger turned his attention back to the real world and tried to make a run for it, but something caught at his foot and he fell.

“What are you doing? Ri’a’tha!” As a puff of flickering flame freed Tiger, Dwayne tried to pull him to his feet. “Move!”

I don’t need help. Tiger grabbed Dwayne by the throat. “Don’t. Touch. Me.”

That was too much for the thief. Stop! Huan shouldered the beast out of the way and released Dwayne, but before he could apologize, the ground fell away and they both dropped into the rustling dark.

That’s not fair.

The thief let Tiger wrest control back and retreated. The concern in Mei’s eyes when the beast snarled at her and the fear in Dwayne’s when it had grabbed his throat, those things weren’t really the thief, but nevertheless, he’d have to deal with the consequences.

Tiger whined and curled them into a ball.

What is it? The thief turned away from his misery and saw that they were still falling. There was no sense of up or down anymore, of whether he’d been falling for seconds or for hours or for ever, but a soft rustling and distant groaning. Then they hit a slope with a painful, but survivable thump. Tiger’s curled pose let him roll down the slope and when it leveled out, he let momentum bring him to his feet as he slid to a stop. Then the beast slid back, making Huan deal with the dust and the pain. He rubbed his arms. Where are we?

Behind him, there was another thump. “Ow!” Dwayne had rolled after Huan, but had landed hard on his back instead of rolling to his feet. Groaning, the mage’s apprentice sat up. “Where are-”

Guilt and the sounds of small rocks and sliding sand made Huan scramble forward, catch Dwayne’s collar with one hand, and haul him out of the way of a deluge of stone and sand. He only released Dwayne when the onslaught had stopped and the hole they’d come in by was only dribbling sand.

“Are you okay?” Huan pulled off Tiger’s Mask.

“You attacked me.” Dwayne’s voice was shaky. “Why?”

Huan’s lie came easy. “I thought you were someone else.”

“Who?”

“Just someone.” Damn it. Because of the beast’s shenanigans, Mei had fallen, Huan was hurt, and- Huan rolled his shoulders. Wait. He wasn’t that hurt. Sure, he had bruises - his face would resemble a mashed up salad in the morning - but nothing was cracked, smashed, or broken. The beast apparently knew how to roll. Good job. Next time save my sister.

Dwayne on the other hand was in worse shape. He was holding his side and wiping blood from his nose, which made his next statement surprising. “You okay?”

Huan’s head jerked back. “Seriously? I attack you and you look like fresh sausage and you ask me that?”

“I’m choosing to let that go and,” slowly, Dwayne got to his feet, “I’m… fine.”

“Good.” The speaker’s voice was feminine, ironic. “I wasn’t going to carry you.”

Huan faced its owner placed his hand on his sword, which luckily hadn’t fallen off during the fall. “Who are you?”

Dwayne fell against the wall. “Oh, no, not you.”

Leaning against the far wall was the noblewoman’s companion, who cradled her crossbow in her left arm while she counted arrows in her hip quiver. While her dark hair looked mussed and dusty, she’d come out of the experience almost as well as Huan had. Huan hadn’t recognize her accent, whose extra clicks and trills had made the word “carry” sound completely different. Still, she was associated with a noble and thus with power.

He bowed. “Huan Ma at your service.”

The companion cocked an eyebrow. “Odette Montes.” She flashed a smile at Dwayne. “See, that’s how you introduce yourself.”

“Whatever.” Dwayne limped over to the opposite wall and leaned against it, still clutching his side. “Huan is a professional at politeness. You should have seen him approach our guest.”

He saw that? “Have you seen my sister?” Huan asked Odette, hoping hide his discomfort. “She’s the only other Tuquese here.”

Odette finished counting before answering. “Five, six windbolts. Oh, that cute little huntress is your sister? Interesting.” She pushed away from the wall and got within five steps of Huan, her light brown eyes, made bloody by the crimson light, searching his face.

Huan suppressed a squirm. “What?”

Odette grinned. “And it’s not even a lie. Even more interesting.”

“We should… get moving.” With a groan, Dwayne peeled himself off the wall and limped past them into the passage beyond. “We have to find Lord Kalan and the others.”

Huan bowed. “After you,” he said to Odette.”

Odette rolled her eyes. “Cute, but the one with the sword goes first.” She prodded Huan with a finger.

“Fine, I’m going, I’m going.” Huan followed Dwayne deeper into the cavern, which got warmer and drier as they went. Soon, it was as hot as a desert noon, an unpleasant fact, which nevertheless seemed to revive Dwayne despite his injuries.

Huan on the other hand felt his clothes fill with sweat. What did I do to deserve this? “Do you know where you’re going?” he asked aloud.

Dwayne kept moving. “No, I don’t.”

Huan’s lips curled. “Then we should go back-”

“Everyone fell down here.” Dwayne glanced back at Huan. “Everyone. We just need to find Lady Pol or Lord Kalan, and they’ll get us out of here.”

“In that case,” Huan pushed past Dwayne, “we should be moving faster.”

Odette chuckled.

“What?” Dwayne tried to face her and ended up folding over in pain.

“It’s cute,” she said, “the way you two bicker while lost in an ancient and fascinating underground complex.”

Dwayne’s question came through gritted teeth. “You think it’s cute?”

Huan turned to them. “We do not have time for this. We have to... grrugh...” A growl tumbled out of Huan’s throat, an involuntary reaction to the thing standing behind him.

“Phonsfell.” Odette brought her crossbow and aimed it just over Huan’s shoulder as a shivering Dwayne fell back behind her.

Huan could smell passing storms, could hear the slither of metal sliding on stone, could taste the sour spicy scent Dwayne’s magic left behind. Whatever was standing behind him wasn’t a mere human or animal. He had to move fast. He drew his sword and about-faced, a snarl on his lips, but his defiance failed him when he saw it.

It wore a steel suit of armor, tinged blood red in the light. Its right hand rested on the hilt of one of two sheathed swords, slightly curved blades able to slash and thrust, and its left hand was loose by its side as if it had all the time in the world to draw its weapons. Taking into account that it was a half dozen wirs away, it was half a head taller than Mei, a measurement that didn’t include the two sweeping antennae on its helmet adding height. Still, despite the beast’s senses and the way Dwayne bared his teeth, Huan saw a human and a human could be reasoned with.

He sheathed his sword, spread his hands wide, and approached towards the armored figure. This was something he could do without the mask.

“Huan,” even Dwayne’s voice sounded chilled, “that’s... that’s isn’t human.”

“Don’t insult it.” Huan dipped into a bow. “Greetings, my name is-”

The air crackled.

Fool! The beast’s warning made Huan drop to the floor, right under a horizontal slice that would have cleaved him in two at the waist. He rolled to the left, hoping to avoid the follow up, and tried to draw his sword again. The armor raised its sword.

“RIIMMMWWWEEEEUUUU!”

A blast of white flame ripped through the air and slammed into the armor’s sword, but with nary a grunt, the armor twisted its blade and deflected the blast into the walls of the passage, where it melted a dent into the stone.

Huan got to his feet and backed away.

“Told… you,” said Dwayne.

“Shut up.” Huan put on Tiger’s mask and drew his sword. “You didn’t-”

“Get down.” Odette stepped forward and fired her crossbow, but the armor cut the arrow in half with a lazy flick of its sword and then started a slow approach.

“What the hell?” Huan brought his sword up. “We haven’t even scratched it.”

“Apparently,” Odette’s eyes stayed on the armor as she rummaged in her quiver, “I’ll need something stronger. Huan,” she gestured at Dwayne, “get him out of here.”

“He can get himself out.” A coughing fit rebutted Huan’s statement. Dwayne looked ill. Huan stared. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Maybe that spell wasn’t complete. Or he wasn’t ready for it yet.” Odette finally pulled an arrow covered in yellow glowing script out of her quiver and slotted it into her crossbow. “When I fire, move.” She took aim.

“Got it.” Huan put Dwayne’s arm over his shoulder, batting away the beast’s revulsion. We need him. He’s going to help me find Mei and get out of here.

Fool.

“Ready?” asked Odette.

“Yeah.”

Odette fired. The armor sparked and blurred and snatched the arrow out of the air.

How? Huan looked back at Odette. She had a wide smile on her face. Why?

With a howl, a gust of wind slammed into the armor, knocking it off its feet and pushing it all the way down the passage.

“Go!”

At Odette’s behest, Huan dragged Dwayne forward and charged after the armor. They made it up the passage in moment and entered a massive chamber, filled with anvils and workbenches arranged in concentric circles around a monstrous and lit forge. The wind had thrown the armor into the middle of the room, where it lay sprawled across an anvil. By the light of the forge, Huan could see the barest hint of a feminine shaping of the armor, but he’d smelled it during the chase. That thing reeked of the sour spicy scent of magic. The only thing that had smelled more of magic was the dragon right before it spat a wall of flame. Dwayne had been right. What was in that armor wasn’t human.

With a creak, the armor righted itself and assumed the same stance as before, left hand at its side, right hand on a hilt.

“We have to… beat it.” Dwayne slid free of Huan and straightened up. “It won’t leave us alone otherwise.”

“How do you know that?” asked Huan.

“Because it’s… guarding this place.”

The armor took one step towards them.

Huan looked around. “Maybe it’s just protecting this room.” There were other ways out of here, but they would have to get within reach of the armor to get to them. “If we go a different way, it might not chase us.”

The armor took another step.

“You are quite the optimist.” Odette entered the chamber and slotted another arrow into her crossbow. “But if Dwayne is right, I think it guards this whole place. Maybe because of these.” She kicked a set of broken shackles that hung from the nearest anvil.

The armor took another step.

Huan recoiled from the shackles. “Why are…” They attached to every anvil and, on occasion, bound a dessicated corpse to the hunks of metal. “What is this place?”

Dwayne’s eyes were hard. “A slave camp.”

Huan gulped and then shook himself. “Ah, yeah, whatever. Finding my sister comes first.”

The armor took one last step, drew both of its swords, and dipped into a ready stance.

I really was hoping it wasn’t a dual wielder. “I’ve got this.” Huan took point and took his own stance, one foot forward, one back, sword up. Then the thief relinquished control, and Tiger charged.

***

Dwayne had known that that slapdash spell would be a mistake. While it was easy to imitate the dragon’s call, the spell ahd still needed something to cap it, something to keep it from draining every drop of his magic and causing - what had Magdala called it? - thaumaturgical shock. As he dry-heaved, he recalled how sick he’d gotten learning the heating spell, Ri’upo’tha. Even now, he felt nauseous every time he boiled water with it. If he only suffered as a result, why bother learning magic?

And why was it so hot?

Dwayne pulled open his eyes. Huan had dragged him into a room with a glowing hot forge, and it looked like their attack hadn’t fazed the armor, which had gotten back on its feet. Now it was approaching Dwayne, Huan, and the Vanurian with slow deliberate steps that belied the snap quick way it had sliced the Vanurian’s arrow in flight, the large insectile eyes on its helmet glittering blood-red in the forge’s light. Magdala would love to see this, would probably fawn over the pauldrons on it. Too bad that there wasn’t a human inside that armor; every bone in Dwayne’s body screamed that magic was involved. He just didn’t know what kind.

He did know one thing though. “We have to… beat it.” Dwayne got his feet under him and slid free of Huan. “It won’t leave us alone otherwise.”

“How do you know that?” asked Huan.

Dwayne reached into his pouch. “Because it’s… guarding this place.”

Ignoring Huan’s reply, Dwayne kept rummaging through his pouch until he found two vials: the azade and ambersoul suspensions. Between studying and preparing for the trip, he’d evaded testing either of them out so when he pulled them out, he winced, remembering that the last time he’d seen them he’d lied to Lord Kalan. What was Lord Kalan going to do when he finally found Dwayne? Would he dismiss him as his apprentice? Leave him alone on the street?

No time to think about that now, not with the armor getting closer. Which vial had the highest chance of success? According to Magdala, the azade was made of fossilized ambersoul sap and thus had the higher magical concentration, more than any other known substance. If it didn’t work, the ambersoul definitely wouldn’t.

Huan recoiled from the shackles piled next to the anvil. “What.. What is this place?”

Dwayne’s jaw tightened. “A slave camp.” That ended any further curiosity about this place.

Huan shook himself. “Ah, yeah, whatever. Finding my sister comes first.”

The armor took a stance, both swords drawn, one foot forward.

Seeing this, Huan took his own stance. “I’ve got this.” Then he charged with a hair-raising bestial roar.

The armor’s left sword flashed and lightning whited out the room and thunder shattered the air. Blinded and deafened, Dwayne dropped to the ground. By the time he’d overcome the sensory overload, Huan had rallied for a second charge. The armor’s riposte shattered Huan’s sword and sent the bodyguard spinning into the wall.

The Vanurian fired. The armor sidestepped it. She grinned. “Not enough.”

Wind blasted into the armor, knocking it back several wirs, but it dug its feet in and recovered. Once again, it started its advance.

“Phonsfell.” The Vanurian grabbed Dwayne by his shoulder and hauled him back to his feet. “Get up!”

“Don’t touch me!” Dwayne wrenched himself free and ran to Huan with the vial of azade in his fist.

The armor kept advancing.

“What are you doing?” asked the Vanurian.

Huan coughed and staggered to his feet. Then he stared at the shattered sword in his hand. “Oh… damn.”

Dwayne reached Huan and placed a hand on the bodyguard’s shoulder. They needed an edge. “The core of Qe is understanding,” intoned Dwayne. When he’d tried this with bluecut mushroom, he’d used the image of dragon scale. But what would a dragon imagine?

Huan stared. “What are he doing?”

Dwayne didn’t stop. “I focus my magic.”

“ls he chanting?” asked the Vanurian.

“Why are you chanting?” asked Huan.

The armor kept advancing.

Dwayne had so little magic now, it was like wringing the last bit of water from a damp rag. But it was so much easier to focus and make the magic flow how he needed it to. Slowly, power shifted from his chest, to his fingertips, and finally into the azade suspension. The vial shook and glowed sapphire. “I imagine the result.”

“Just get back.” Huan pushed Dwayne out of the way. “Come at me!”

The armor advanced.

What was the answer to Dwayne’s question? Right. A dragon didn’t imagine what its scales would do. It just assumed they wouldn’t get cut. The vial went still as Dwayne’s magic sank into it. Dwayne smiled. “I speak the word.”

The armor stopped and put weight on to its right foot, its grip tightening on its sword. It was going to cut down both Huan and Dwayne in one swing.

Now. “Qesuyit!”

The vial flashed, the armor blurred, metal shrieked, and Huan collapsed, having taken the full force of the armor’s slash. With his bodyguard out of the way, the armor turned to Dwayne himself.

“Hah!” Huan’s spin-kick sent the armor clattering to the ground.

It tried to stand, but the Vanurian dashed forward, crouched, and fired another arrow slammed into right into the armor’s flank. The resulting gust of wind sent the creature through the anvils and down a passage.

“It worked.” With that, Dwayne’s legs gave up on him, and he dropped to the floor.

Huan turned to him and stared. “What the hell did you do? I should be in two very handsome pieces.”

The Vanurian stood up, her mouth slightly open. “He cast a Qe spell. How?”

From his supine position, Dwayne laughed. “It worked! Our theory works! We just-” A tingling wave of magic washed over him. He sat up. The armor wasn’t done. “Get-” No time. He threw his hands up. “Ri’mun’ui’po!”

Lightning struck the nearest anvil and created molten metal that ripped through Dwayne’s hasty heat shield, and in its wake, the armor dashed out of the passage with both swords drawn.

“Damn, what does it take to kill that thing?” asked Huan.

The armor raised both of its swords, and suddenly the air was filled with so much electricity Dwayne could feel it in his teeth.

“Time to go.” The Vanurian pulled Dwayne to his feet. “You first.” She heaved him down the nearest passage and then turned to Huan. “You-”

The air turned white.

***

From the moment his apprenticeship began, Dwayne had managed Lord Kalan’s affairs, and so one day when he’d encountered a sheaf of unopened and unaddressed - all stamped with Lord Kalan’s personal wax seal, a capital ‘B’ on top of a river delta- letters secreted away in his master’s papers, Dwayne had left them where he found them at first. However, as his travels with Lord Kalan continued, the sheaf grew thicker and thicker as each month another letter was added to it. Soon it was too thick to pack, and Dwayne had to give up and bring it to Lord Kalan.

“Who are these for? Should I arrange their delivery?”

For a long moment, Lord Kalan just stared at the letters, as if they didn’t have his personal seal on them, as if someone else had written each and every single one, but before Dwayne could offer a suggestion, Lord Kalan shook his head.

“No.” Lord Kalan pulled the most recent letter out of the sheaf and put it in his cloak pocket. “I’ll take this one. Burn the rest.” Then he fled.

It had been hard for Dwayne not to open the letters and see who his master had written so diligently to, but an order was an order and he hadn’t wanted to lose his chance.

The only words that he caught before the letters turned to ash were “I’m sorry,” and after that day, Dwayne never found any of those letters again.

***

A persistent ringing dragged Huan to consciousness and he winced at the pain piercing his side then sat up and took stock of his situation. His arms were still sore from failing to block the sword strike. His ribs were probably cracked. And he had even more bruises. Damn it! What the hell were you doing Tiger?

Something pale lay on the floor by his feet. Tiger's mask.

It had been a long time since Huan had seen for himself the red and black lines that traced out the beast’s face, examined the many strange symbols etched into its surface. It had been a long time since he was free.

Huan stared at the mask. How? Why now? He shook himself. The answers to those questions didn’t matter. He was free.

Pulling his scabbard off his belt, Huan poked the mask with it. Nothing happened. Satisfied, he got to his feet and walked away. It was time to get out of here. Currently he was in a corridor, one end of which had collapsed by the force of the armor’s attack. Huan was cut off from the forge and the mage and the archer. He could go deeper in, but he couldn’t go back.

Good. Dwayne and Odette might assume he was dead and move on, leaving him to go and find Mei and escape. First though…

He walked over to the and raised his scabbard to smash it.

A thought stopped him. What if I can sell it? The answer was no. If he’d sold Tiger and the ShengXiao guard found him, they'd take his head off for selling Imperial secrets. But that means I can use it as leverage.

Huan pulled his torn and dusty blue scarf off his neck, wrapped the mask in it, and tied the bundle to his waist. Then he walked away. Mei's still out there. She needs my help.

After finding her, they’d leave this desert, these crazy mages. He could do whatever he wanted. He was free.