After Kashtiliash returned, Seer Yahel took them on a whirlwind tour of the keep. Yahel seemed overly attentive to Kashtiliash, to the point where it occasionally became uncomfortable for Xerxes.

Kash is like me, he thought. Sixteen or seventeen years old. And isn’t she like… two hundred?

It was creepy.

That, coupled with the idea of the bronze statue of the tree sitting on a cart in a courtyard so closeby, made it hard for Xerxes to pay attention to the ‘tour.’ At one point, she took them into an ornately decorated room to have tea, and when he stepped to the window and looked down, he realized they were just above the courtyard with the carts.

He wanted to burst out of the window, rush to the cart, tear the tarp off, grab the key, and run.

But Gandy was still detained, and he had no idea what would be involved in freeing him with force. Besides, it didn’t seem wise to antagonize the sheik’s people.

“Something catch your attention?” Yahel asked.

Xerxes looked over to where she and Kashtiliash sat.

He blinked. “Oh, nothing. I just realized we walked through that courtyard down there, earlier today. Those are the items you’re sending as payment for the release of the Black Jackal Company?”

She rose and joined him at the window. “Yes, those are the items. Worth several million shekels. We’ll send the carts over the river after the curfew this evening, when the streets are empty. Don’t worry, you’ll have your Captain back by tomorrow, no doubt about it. Now, would you like to head up to one of the towers? We can see what this so-called Abhorrent invasion is shaping up to look like.”

“Sure.”

As they climbed the spiral stairs leading to the top of one the towers, Xerxes realized his heart was pounding. Towers. Abhorrent.

He didn’t like the combination.

First had been the tower he climbed with Bel and Captain Iskhi. Then the temporary watchtower on the road, before the battle when Enusat died.

He stopped in place on the stairs.

You don’t believe in omens, he thought. He remembered Mystic Rabya lecturing about the subject. The crux of the class had been that only omens perceived by means of spellcasting by Hasasu mages could be considered true omens. Anything else, including the countless folk superstitions that proliferated in all parts of the empire, were just that: superstitions.

“Correlation doesn’t prove causation,” Rabya said. “Does anyone know what Macrides wrote about that?”

Ningal raised her hand. “He said that you have to avoid the tendency to notice random connections between things. For instance, you have red wine before a battle, and then come out victorious. Several months later, you drink red wine again before another successful battle. Superstitious people might start thinking red wine leads to victory in battle. But it’s nothing more than coincidence.”

“That’s right,” Rabya said. “Or in the case of Black Jackal classroom, we have Enusat, who thinks that never washing his socks makes him a better sword fighter.”

“That’s rude!” Enusat grumbled. Everyone laughed.

Xerxes sighed at the thought that both Enusat and Ningal were dead.

“Xerk?” Kashtiliash said. “Something wrong?”

Xerxes looked up to see both Kashtiliash and Yahel looked down the stairs in his direction. “No,” he said. “Just distracted.”

He hurried to catch up. The view from the tower top was breathtaking. But from this high vantage point, it wasn’t possible to see any Abhorrent. Were they so close to the city walls that they weren’t visible? Or were they lurking in the hills off in the distance?

Yahel laughed. “See? The Abhorrent aren’t anything to worry about right now.”

Kashtiliash said something in response that Xerxes didn’t note. It was actually surprising how well he was able to carry a conversation when necessary.

As they climbed back down the tower staircase, Yahel said, “I have a few important matters to attend to before the evening meal. Would the two of you like to join me? For dinner I mean? If so, I can arrange for something to keep you occupied until then.”

“No thanks,” Xerxes said. “If it’s okay with you, we’ll go make a few final preparations for when the Captain is released. You said it’ll be first thing in the morning, right?”

“That’s right.”

“Perfect. We’ll come back tomorrow then.”

There were some more formalities, but eventually they parted ways with Yahel and walked in the direction of the wall.

“You owe me,” Kashtiliash said.

“Huh?”

“My throat is sore from talking. It’s a good thing she has some sort of crush on me and didn’t notice you staring into the distance half the time. What was that about?”

“Sorry, Kash. I was just thinking about a lot of stuff. I don’t think we can afford to let that bronze tree get handed over to the loyalists.”

“You have a plan?”

“The outline of a plan. But we’ll need some input from Kat and Dasi.”

“I know what you’re thinking.”

Xerxes grinned. “Do you?”

“We’re going to hit those wagons before they cross the bridge. Either that, or after.”

Xerxes clasped his hand on Kashtiliash’s shoulder. “You read my mind.”

“Great Swordmasters think alike.”

**

Katayoun and Dasi managed to find a box of Concentrated Melam Pill for sale. They waited until Kashtiliash and Xerxes returned before deciding what to do with them. At Xerxes’ urging, Dasi took one. And then they formulated their plan.

They returned to the inner city in two groups, then got into place before the curfew bells were sounded.

Kashtiliash and Xerxes had the very same cloaks they’d used to sneak into the female dorms back on Sin-Amuhhu. Combined with some simple masks purchased at the market, they were perfectly attired to blend into the shadows. Xerxes had initially been reluctant to bring swords, but Katayoun convinced him to go armed.

And thus, he and Kashtiliash lurked on a rooftop some blocks away from the keep, along the road they guessed the carts would take.

Katayoun and Dasi were in an alley below, waiting for the signal.

Kashtiliash put his hand together and rubbed them vigorously. “It gets cold at night here,” he said.

Xerxes kept to the shadows of the rooftop so he wouldn’t stick out to anyone examining the surrounding city from a higher vantage point in the keep. He peered in the direction of the side gate they were watching. “Yeah. I remember Jad saying it snows around here in the winter.”

“Any movement?”

“Not yet.”

Xerxes reached for the thousandth time to his component pouch. He truly hoped he wouldn’t have any need for spellcasting. Their plan was to get the key and escape into the night without anyone being the wiser. But who knew what could play out?

“Have you thought about Dasi’s question?” Kashtiliash asked.

“About the Unsighted?”

“Yeah.”

Xerxes shook his head. “I don’t want to think about it.”

Kashtiliash grunted a response.

The truth was that Xerxes had thought a lot about it, and he couldn’t imagine a suitable course of action. Once they had the Gateway key, there was no reason for them to stay in Puabi, or on Jehannemid for that matter. But there was no getting around the fact that the return trip would be a months-long journey if they brought the Unsighted troops with them. It might not have been worth worrying about if the Abhorrent weren’t present. But they were.

It was possible for the mages, and especially the High Seers, to get back to the complex safely if they were careful in how they traveled. But to make that trip with all of Black Jackal Company would be very difficult.

He wondered if Gandash would be able to make the decision to abandon the Unsighted.

Xerxes thought about the troops he knew.

Stratos. Mazlauwa. Tustimant.

And dozens of others.

When leaving with Jad, he had envisioned returning along with a triumphant army of fellow mages to rescue Gandash and the others. This time, things would be different.

“Look,” Kashtiliash said, pointing.

Across the way, the gate was opening. A line of troops filed out, bearing shields and spears.

Xerxes counted six. Ten. Twenty.

“Damn,” he whispered. “They’re not joking around.”

After the foot soldiers came cavalry. At least ten mounted warriors.

Then there was a tall man with a longsword sheathed at his back.

“Who’s that?” Kashtiliash said.

“A Seer named Simeon,” Xerxes answered. “He knows the Epitome.”

After Simeon were more footsoldiers. Then came the carts, each of which had four soldiers attached to it. Xerxes supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised, given that they were escorting millions of shekels worth of valuables. Nonetheless, the sight of dozens upon dozens of soldiers, accompanied by mages, was daunting.

“We still going through with this?” Kashtiliash asked.

Xerxes gnawed at his cheek as he thought. Then he said, “Yes. Once we see if they turn left or right, go signal Kat and Dasi.”

Behind the carts were more soldiers. Xerxes lost track of the exact count, but estimated their number at about a hundred. At the end of the procession was another mage, a young man. He carried no weapons, shield, or anything else, for that matter. But Xerxes could tell by his garments that he was a Seer.

Around the same time that the gates closed, the procession reached the intersection and turned left.

“Go time,” Xerxes said. “Follow the plan.”

Kashtiliash nodded and dashed toward the side of the building to send the signal to Katayoun and Dasi.

Meanwhile, Xerxes, still crouched low, ran to the edge of the building and leaped to the next building over. Continuing in that manner, he went one more building down, then pulled himself into the shadows of a rooftop grape vine. From there, he had a perfect view of the intersection where Dasi would make her move.

Minutes passed with agonizing slowness. Kashtiliash went in a different direction, so he didn’t spot him. Eventually, the troops appeared. Then Simeon. Then the carts.

Almost time.

Xerxes watched as the carts trundled down the empty streets.

The yowl of a cat broke the silence, and then Xerxes caught a blur of motion near one of the carts.

Dasi, he thought.

She ran under the cart with the tree. The troops guarding the procession reacted very quickly, but when they realized it was just a cat, they relaxed.

“What is it?” he heard Simeon yell.

“Stray cat,” one of the soldiers called back. “It jumped in the cart.”

Xerxes heard some scattered laughter. Simeon started moving in the direction of the cart.

“Get it out of there,” the mage said. “Last thing we want is it jumping out and the rebels think we’re attacking them.”

“It’s under the tarp.”

Simeon stepped up to the cart. “Then flip the damn thing back!”

As soldiers scrambled to comply, Xerxes continued to gnaw his lip. Come on, Dasi. Come on.

The very moment the soldier untied a corner rope and flipped the tarp back, a large tabby cat leaped out from inside, provoking a shout from the soldier.

Xerxes was fairly certain he saw a glint of metal in the cat’s mouth.

The cat landed on the soldier’s chest, scrambled over him, and made to leap away.

Until Simeon jumped forward and grabbed it by the scruff of the neck.