As they work their way through the narrow paths and alleyways of Bule, Corva looks over to Jack. He’s obviously in a lot of pain, but he’s keeping a good clip in his step despite it. He’s hunched over, holding Zeke close to his chest. He insisted on carrying the little monkey. Said something about thinking she might drain the last bit of life from Zeke if he let her carry him. But with his injuries, having him carry Zeke and his own pack was really hurting their chances of getting out of town in time.

Of course, all the people darting back and forth along the path and the town siren blaring wasn’t helping them move any faster, either. That said, although there are more folks running around than they saw in the last raid, there are a lot fewer than she would expect. A thought occurs to her.

“I’m not sure a siege cave is the best place to go, Jack. It’s going to be crowded, maybe too crowded to get to any medkits fast enough.”

Jack shakes his head. “This ain’t Bule’s first rodeo. We got a bunch of siege caves all over. Not just the one we went to last. At least six official ones and a handful of pockets that are nearly as secure. We ain’t goin’ to any of those, though. ’Sides, like you saw before, most of the caves in Upper are pretty shitty.”

“You said it’s close, right? Where exactly are we going?” She’s only a few feet behind him, but she’s got to yell to make sure he hears her.

“It is close. Just gotta get our way down to Lower Bule.”

She grinds her teeth, frustration growing. Kid can’t stop talking most of the time and now he decides to keep a tight lip? At least they’re headed lower. With the Umbrati coming from the top, the lower into the canyon that they can get, the farther from the main action they’ll be.

They reach the long stairway down to Lower Bule. It looks like a bunch of folks had the same idea. Hardly anyone is headed up the stairs. She looks around. There hasn’t been any sign of Thegn or Caffiel since they left the bar. They’ve got to be close, though. They can’t fly all the way out of town without being spotted and as long as he’s semi-unconscious, the Old Beard is in no shape to fight off this much of the Umbrati horde.

If Zeke and Caffiel are to be believed, this will be the largest raid she’s ever seen. She’s seen up to a hundred Karui sweep a town. That place had a defense wall and a dozen or so strong soulmancers. It’s hard to imagine that the Umbrati—or anyone, really—would send this large a force for just one man. Is Thegn really that powerful? Would they send just as many for me if they learn I’m War?

She shakes her head. She’s not War. She can’t be. Death is the last of the Four. The other three horseman—War among them—are dead. The histories say that they perished early, not long after the first wave of people were claimed, conscripted by the Karui or Umbrati. Dying is final, isn’t it?

Corva realizes that in her distracted state, she’s walked quite a bit ahead of Jack. She slows down to let him catch up.

Jack doesn’t look at her. His attention appears to be on navigating his way down each step. Still, it’s pretty obvious that his mind is swimming with questions, too. Corva catches him sending a sidelong glance at her. She can’t read his expression, though. Suspicion? Curiosity? Anger? He turns his head back toward the stairs, away from her.

His jaws flex, like he’s silently testing his words before he speaks. “So you’re a Whisperer too?”

“What”?

Jack’s breathing is labored. Words come out between breaths as he steps down. “A Whisperer. You talk to animals.”

“Wh—No. I don’t.” She looks at him as they walk. “Shouldn’t you be focusing on not falling down these stairs?”

“Shit, please. I do these stairs all the time.” He pauses, false bravado momentarily lowered. “‘Sides, talkin’ keeps my mind off all the parts of me that hurt.”

He takes another step. “So you ain’t a Whisperer, but you can talk to Zeke and that rat?”

“Not really. It’s more like they talk to me. Or think to me. Or at me. Or something. At this point, I’m not sure that they’re really animals.” She looks away, catching a glimpse of the little group of steps where she collapsed after Zeke first spoke to her. “I’m not even sure what I am.”

Jack keeps working his way down the stairs, a half step faster to get out of the way of a big burly guy, armed and armored to the hilt. It takes her a second to realize that it’s Gorm, the guy Jack said was the swap shop owner and armorer for the Bule militia.

The brute yells over his shoulder as he passes, “Look alive or you’re gonna look dead, Jackie-Boy! Put that braid you bought to some use!”

Uncharacteristically, Jack doesn’t offer a response. He just scratches at his neck where his new braid shows and keeps moving.

Of course, with a guy that big and that heavily armed booking his way down to the lower end of town, whatever’s behind him has got to be significant. “Jack, we might need to pick up the pace. There’s—”

“Mercies.”

Corva stares at him. “What?”

“That’s what they called them. That’s what we called them. Mercies.”

“Jack, you’re not—”

“When we sent mages into towns and killed everyone. They were called mercies. I mean, sure, I was only four or five when the Fold fell—not even old enough to seriously begin any training—so it’s not like I knew all that much about it. But they were my people. I came from that.”

Corva doesn’t know how to respond. She’s obviously not the only one with a lot on their mind. She keeps her mouth shut and lets him keep talking as they continue picking their way down the steps.

“You know what the weird thing is, though? When I close my eyes, it’s not my people that I remember. I saw the Fold fall. I saw the raid. Only time the Sheeps and Goats attacked the same place together. Sounds like something pretty memorable, right? I lost everyone I knew—most everyone.” He pauses after he corrects himself.

“Jack, I—”

“I mean, sure, I was really young at the time. How many people could I really know at that age, right? It’s true. I don’t even know most of their names. My own families’ names are even a bit fuzzy at this point. But the faces I remember, the faces I think about when I close my eyes … they’re not theirs. It’s the faces of the people that got wiped out.”

He stops and looks up to her. “Your people.”

She stares back at him. “Is this really the best time to be talking about this? In case you haven’t noticed, there’s a raid arriving.”

“Yes! This is exactly the best time. This won’t work if we can’t work together. We have to know we have each other’s backs. That starts with laying everything on the table.”

Corva takes her attention off Jack and looks at everything going on around them. “Okay. But can we do that some place where I’m not constantly afraid of being pushed off these steps?”

He pauses a beat before complying. No words. He turns and keeps working his way to the base of the stairs. Turning toward Lower Bule, he stumbles a bit and drops to one knee. He hunches over, holding Zeke closer to his chest. Corva steps closer to help him up, but he’s back to his feet before she gets a chance.

“Jack, you think maybe I should carry Zeke? You don’t want to drop him.”

Jack stops in his tracks, and she immediately regrets saying anything. “Everything on the table. Until then, you watch yours. I’ll watch mine.”

He looks around and Corva follows his gaze. Surprisingly, they’re in a pretty secluded spot. People are still running around, but Jack and Corva are more or less out of sight.

Jack goes on talking like he hadn’t even stopped. “Ever since Old Man V started training me with that notebook he found, or traded for, or … however he got it. Ever since then, I’ve been seeing faces—not faces, more like shadows—of people. People I don’t know. But I do know them.”

“You’re not making any sense.”

He shakes his head. “It’s from the Touch. They were killed with the Touch. That’s how it works, ya know? You gotta see ’em to do it. Whole crowds of people looking like every one of them got shot in the head at the exact same time. It’s their souls bein’ ripped out. You know souls got a smell? Can’t hardly detect it with just one person. Takes at least a room full of folks before you start to take notice. I’m not even sure how I know that. But sometimes I smell that smell at night when I see the not-faces. Works its way into my dreams. Makes me sick to my stomach every time.”

He lifts his chin skyward, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. “Seems there’s a weight that comes with using the Touch … even learning it. I wasn’t there when Fareburne got taken out. I can’t even say with any sureness that I’d be able to stop myself if I had been there. Everyone in the Fold had been so trained to think they were doing the right thing. The just thing.”

Jack brings his attention back to Corva, his gray eyes locking on hers. He’s still looking up since she’s taller than him, but somehow, it feels like they’re on an even level. “I don’t know what I would’ve done then—what I could’ve done. But I know about the here and now. Those aren’t my people anymore. You’re my people now. And if you’ll let me, I’ll do everything I can to help you.”

“I’m War,” Corva blurts out the words before she even knows they’re coming out.

Jack’s mouth hangs open. It’s hard to tell if it’s because he was just interrupted or if it’s slack-jawed surprise. Remarkably, he pulls it together pretty quickly. “Well, okay. Not quite what I was expecting, but okay.”

A scream echoes across the canyon, bouncing off all the rock surfaces. The fact that it’s impossible to tell where it originated makes it all the more ominous.

Jack’s expression hardens. “Look, I know I said ‘everything on the table’ and I got a whole bucket of questions for you. But I think we’re going to hafta count this as good enough. I’ll be okay with you being one of the Four.” He pauses. “I think. You gonna be okay with me and Lyia being from the Fold?”

Kid can get right to the point when he wants to, can’t he? Corva has to wait a second. He just hit her with a whole bunch of information and she’s got a slew of questions of her own. Pops of gunfire sound from somewhere in Upper Bule. Jack’s right, though. Those extra details will have to wait.

She returns his fixed stare. “Yeah. I’ll be okay. I think.”

“Good.” Jack puts on an awkward smile. “We gotta stash our packs. The next bit’s gonna be a bit of a squeeze.”