"There you go, milady." The maid, whose name Magdala hadn't bothered to remember, stepped back from her handiwork.

Blinking away an imaginary argument between her mother, her father, and her lord uncle, Magdala scowled at her reflection in the mirror, which had a bun of hair floating above each of its ears. She looked like a sheep.

Behind her the maid held in a smile. "Do you like it, milady?"

Magdala kept her eyes on her reflection, keeping its expression blank. "Leave."

"Pardon?"

Magdala gritted her teeth. "Leave. Now."

After the maid bowed her apologies and fled the room, Magdala considered undoing the maid's work. If she started from scratch, she'd waste five minutes trying to wrangle her hair into an acceptable style. Her mother would have scolded the maid and gotten her hair done just right, would have told Mei about Colonel Harvey's orders at breakfast, and would be looking at her own reflection knowing that she could do this. She would not be afraid that she'd overcommitted. Had Magdala made a mistake?

Someone knocked on her door. After one last despairing glance at the mirror, Magdala walked to the door and opened it.

Taylor aborted a salute. "G-good morning, milady. How was breakfast?" She checked the inside of Magdala’s room.

Magdala gave her a flat smile. "Well, I ate it. I think." She put on her cloak over a dark blue blouse and black skirt, which Magdala hoped would travel better than the long dress from yesterday. She picked through the pockets in her cloak, checking that she had her notebooks, pencils, vials and other tools. Her trembling hands did not assist in this task. "How was your breakfast?"

"No complaints, milady."

Magdala clasped her hands together to stop them trembling. "Let's get on with it then. We'll start with my lord uncle's study first."

Taylor nodded. “I’ll take point."

While following the corporal, Magdala watched her check every corner, pause in front of every window, and glare at every servant they came upon. When they reached the study, Taylor's arm came up to bar Magdala from entering.

"Just a moment, milady." Keeping her hand on her sword, Taylor advanced into the study.

Magdala shook her head. “What are you doing?”

Kneeling, Taylor peeked under the sofa. “I'm just making sure it’s clear, milady.”

"Right..." Magdala stepped into the study.

"Milady!"

Magdala waved off Taylor's concerns and scanned the study, which had been left untouched as per her orders last night. The bookshelves to her left were a mess. Two of the shelves had been cracked, and their books were strewn all over the floor, a sight that made Magdala's heart ache. She moved on to the sofas, which were untouched for the most part and still sported the red spots of her lord uncle's blood. Gulping back bile, Magdala focused on the dust free rectangle where her lord uncle's desk had stood. Its remains, which had been resting in the foyer, had been taken away last night on Galkin's orders. Tentatively, Magdala approached the spot where Lord Kalan, Guardian of the Wall, had lain dying and stared. Huan's report, brief though it was, had made it clear that Lord Kalan had only thrown the marble desk, but not the sofas or the books. Was her lord uncle only capable of big flashy magic now?

She looked up. The obsidian door, the one that Dwayne and her lord uncle had arrived in by two days ago, sat there like it was watching her every move. It was telling that her lord uncle had stayed between his assailant and the door, and so last night Magdala had asked Dwayne what was behind it, but, with a grimace and a apology, he’d refused to answer. This close she could see the letters and symbols etched into the door's surface, which were only visible when she moved her head to catch the light. Somehow the symbols led her eyes downward to where a complex circular pattern had been cut into the stone floor.

She knelt to inspect it. "What's this?"

Taylor rushed to her side. "Milady, are you-? Oh." She relaxed a fraction. "That's just magic, right?"

"Maybe." Magdala reached out to touch the circle but pulled her hand back. "I've never heard of any magic that can be carved or even written down..." But Dwayne owned the magic book Na'cch and presumably it had words in it, though even Dwayne couldn't get it open. "I'll make a note of it." She pulled her notebook out of her cloak and wrote a brief description of the circle in it. Standing up, she turned to the rest of the study, the evidence in front of her and Dwayne and Huan's reports coming together in her mind. "This was a targeted attack. The attacker made a beeline for this room. It obviously knew where to find my lord uncle."

The corporal frowned. "I heard it searched a bunch of rooms first."

Magdala walked over to the bookshelf. "It was being thorough. It wasn't tracking my lord uncle; it just knew where he'd most likely be."

The corporal's jaw set. "So... we have a spy." Her eyes dropped to her boots. "But I don't think those things could do something like this, milady. If they were smart enough to read a map or listen to instructions, I wouldn't be standing here."

"That would have been a shame." Magdala wrote her theory down, missing how pink Taylor's face got. Magdala sighed. "So yet again I'm investigating magic that I've never seen before. Just like in Yumma." She inspected the cracks in the shelf and found dried blood, now brown. Probably Huan's. "The creature threw Huan here from there." She pointed to a spot between the sofas. "And he said he drew blood." She went still. "Dried blood is brown."

Taylor gave a slow nod. "Yes, milady."

Magdala rushed to the sofa and its red spots and dipped the tip of her pencil into one. The red stuff clung to it. "This isn't blood." She let a drop fall from her pencil onto her fingertip.

Taylor's eyes widened. "What are you doing?"

"Shush." Magdala closed her eyes. "Nqeoum." Alchemical formulas rushed into Magdala's mind. The substance was iron, something unidentifiable, and... Her eyes flew open. "Ambersoul?"

"That blue Vanurian stuff?" asked Taylor.

"Yes, the sap they harvest." Magdala pulled a vial and spoon out of her cloak and scrapped as much of the substance as she could off the sofa and into the vial, which she stuffed into her cloak. "That creature was full of the stuff."

The corporal made a face. "That was in its blood?"

Magdala reviewed how the components were arranged. The overall structure was familiar. "No, it wasn’t in its blood. It was its blood. Interesting.” She stood up and walked to the remains of the study's door. "Dwayne said the creature was as tall as him." Magdala glanced at Taylor. "So about as tall as you."

Taylor shuddered. “That’s terrifying. I wouldn’t want to fight me. Not a soulless me.”

Magdala giggled. “I don’t think anyone would want to fight you. Well, except maybe Huan but he’s an idiot.” Her eyes took in the damage to the door. “This was a work of art. A Golden Age masterpiece.”

Taylor joined her. “It was a strong kick.” She bit her lip. “I think maybe I could manage it with a run up, but...”

Magdala tapped the wood with her foot, making a solid thump. “No average soldier could kick this door down like this. Both Huan and Dwayne described the creature as lean, not muscular. Maybe there's something in that ichor...” Ice poured into Magdala's stomach. “We’re dealing with a creature that knows the layout of this estate, has a kick like a horse, and uses ambersoul for blood.”

Taylor's hand tightened on her sword. “Oh, is that all, milady?”

“Worse, it was made, and it didn’t send itself to attack my lord uncle. Someone commanded it to.”

Taylor's face went pale. “Ah." Her hand went to her mouth and she doubled over.

Magdala stepped away. "Wha-What are you doing?“

Taylor shook her head. “Sorry, I-” She vomited.

***

"Good morning!" A hand dragged Huan out of his dreams of freedom and into hot dry wakefulness.

Snarling, he lashed out with a kick, earning himself a hard cuff to the neck.

"Now, none of that." Sir Marcus was grinning over him. "We'll make a halfway decent soldier out of you if it kills me. Get dressed and report to the training yard." He set Huan on his feet, patted him on the back, and left.

Groaning, Huan hunted for his clothes, but all he could find was a faded red tunic, a pair of brown trousers, and a mud and rust colored Southern Line breastplate. With the exception of his blue scarf, which was folded next to those abominations, his own clothes were gone. Again, his sword was nowhere to be found. Cursing, Huan donned the horrid costume while ignoring how the back of his head throbbed and his eyelids drooped. He'd spent all night trying to track down the gray-skinned assassin, but the trail had gone cold just outside the estate grounds. He'd only learned one thing: the creature had escaped into Walton and not the garrison.

Still adjusting the straps on his breastplate, Huan stepped out of the barracks and into the training yard. He squinted in the morning sun, a blight upon the world, and saw that Sir Marcus and Nathan were waiting for him in the center of the yard, both looking far too awake for this hour. Morning people were the worst. They were eager, opportunistic, and had expectations that, like them, one should go above and beyond what was necessary.

Nathan crossed his arms as Huan approached. "Took you long enough."

Huan glared at him. "Someone took my clothes. And my sword. Give them back."

Sir Marcus shook his head. "As per regulations, your sword has been checked into the garrison armory, and your clothes were... disposed of." He looked Huan over. "Besides, this suits you."

Huan managed to keep his lips from curling. While Nathan and Huan were in awful red and brown, Sir Marcus was dressed in a crisp gray tunic with the left sleeve pinned back and black trousers with an embroidered yellow flower sigil on the left breast. Among the red and brown uniformed ranks, Sir Marcus stood out.

Huan seethed. Not fair.

Sir Marcus placed a hand on Huan's shoulder. "Remember to refer to your commanders as 'sir'. I know that Bart does not care about formality, but we have high expectations in Her Majesty's Army. Understand?"

Huan willed his eyes not to roll. "Yes... sir."

Sir Marcus smiled and took his hand away. "Excellent. I have an assignment for the two of you."

Nathan looked around, frowning. "What about Corporal Taylor and his sister?"

"They have both been assigned to Lady Gallus as her personal guard."

Nathan's eyes narrowed for just an instant. "Oh."

Huan sneered. "I've seen Corporal Taylor. I'd take one of her over a dozen of you."

In one step, Nathan got in Huan's face. "A dozen of you would be much worse."

Huan's nostrils flared. "You little-"

"Enough!" Sir Marcus pulled Huan away from Nathan.

Upon seeing Sir Marcus's arm, the former squire winced, but the knight didn't notice. "You will work together," he said. "Understood?"

Nathan looked away, his jaw jutting forward. "Yes, sir."

Huan shook Sir Marcus off of him. "What's this assignment?"

Sir Marcus raised an eyebrow.

Again, Huan did not roll his eyes. "Sir."

Sir Marcus nodded in approval. "In light of last night's attack, we're increasing our guard and preparing for further attacks. To help, you two are going to pick up crucial supplies." He pulled a sheet of paper out of his pocket and handed it to Nathan.

After reading it, Nathan scowled. "Sir, a page could do this."

Sir Marcus smiled. "It'll be a good opportunity for Huan to familiarize himself with the town. Show him all the good spots. It'll be a bonding experience."

Huan took the sheet from Nathan and read it. "Check on the city watch's readiness? Escort the latest armor order back to the garrison? These will take all day!" Huan caught Sir Marcus's expression. "I mean.... sir."

"Those are your orders," said the knight. "Follow them."

Nathan stood to attention and saluted. "Yes, sir!"

Much more reluctantly, Huan followed suit, his salute a mere shadow of Nathan's. "Yes, sir."

Sir Marcus grinned. "Good. Report to me before dinner. Oh and Huan?" He leaned in, his voice low. "If you put that mask on in town, you'll be hanged. That thing is a weapon, one you do not have control over. Take heed."

Huan's nostrils flared, and in the back of his mind, golden eyes opened and waited for permission, but He shook himself and said, "Yes, sir." The eyes closed.

The knight patted Huan on the back and walked away.

"Let's go," Huan said to Nathan. He started walking towards Walton.

"Let's go, sir," corrected Nathan. "I'm a lieutenant."

"Good for you." Huan didn't stop, leading the way to the drawbridge where a small figure watched the townspeople queuing up to enter the garrison. Huan growled, walked up to her, and tapped her on the shoulder. "Mei, what are you doing here?"

His sister adjusted her rifle case and turned around, her hands in her pockets. She looked more rested than he'd ever seen her before.

"Aren't you assigned to Magdala?" he asked.

Mei went still, taking in the trousers, the tunic, and the breastplate. When she reached his face, she smiled. "Huan?"

This damn armor. Huan gave a big theatrical bow. "Yes, it's your big brother."

Mei tapped the breastplate. "Where are your clothes?"

"They took them."

"And burned them hopefully." Nathan shoved his way forward. "Mei, you are away from your post."

Mei's forehead scrunched up in confusion, so Huan patted her on the head. "He means you're supposed to be guarding Magdala."

Mei's frown deepened. "She did not tell me."

Huan rolled his eyes. "Just like her."

"I'm sure she has her reasons," said Nathan. "Ones you wouldn't understand."

Huan shrugged. "Whatever. We have errands to run." And I have a passport to find.

Mei tilted her head. "Where are you going?"

Huan sighed. "Marcus-"

"Sir Marcus," corrected Nathan.

"Wants us to do a bunch of random pointless crap down in the town." Huan waited for Nathan to correct him.

"We'd better start now." Nathan took the list from Huan. "Let's go."

I'll ditch him as soon as we're in town. "Don't give me orders." Huan followed Nathan onto the drawbridge. By the time Huan realized that Mei was following them, they had already entered the town. "What are you doing?"

"Going with you."

Huan's answering smile was stiff. "Why not? The more the merrier."

***

After breakfast, Dwayne hurried to the garrison infirmary with Galkin.

"Sir, there's a lot we have to discuss." The steward easily kept up with Dwayne's long strides.

Dwayne didn't answer, his mind cycling through the same three thoughts. The first was "Oh gods." The second was "What am I supposed to do now?" And the last was "I hope he's awake." With those on repeat, there wasn't any attention left for Galkin.

They reached the base of the stairs where one of the guards whispered to her partner, "What's up with him?"

Galkin approached with a bow. "He's checking up on Lord Kalan."

The guard nodded. "Ah... That makes sense. I thought he needed the privy."

Her partner nudged her. "Shush."

The guards' lack of hostility or confusion was novel enough to break Dwayne's cycle of panic. He could get used to people treating him with respect; it was being an actual member of the Souran aristocracy that terrified him. When he'd woke up this morning, he'd considered running away, maybe even making his way all the way back to Wesen. It was a good plan except that he had no idea how to do any of that, would be letting Lord Kalan down, and would never see Magdala or the others ever again. He'd be lost and alone. He preferred to just be the former. He and Galkin kept walking.

After coming down the stairs from the estate, they approached the garrison's southern entrance where two more guards rose to attention.

The guard on the right asked, "Headed into town?" with a flicker of a frown passing on his face.

Dwayne let it go. "No, I'm here for Lord Kalan. Where's the infirmary?"

The other guard's eyes flickered from behind Dwayne and back to his face. "It's on the west side. It's a big white building with a cup on it. You won't miss it." His eyes widened. "Sir."

Dwayne resisted the urge to look behind him to see what Galkin was doing. "Thank you." He walked into the garrison. After a few steps, he stopped, looked up at the sun, and then back at the wall.

Standing with his hands behind his back, Galkin followed his gaze. "Do you need help, my lord?"

Dwayne faced away from the wall and wriggled his left hand. "No, I got it." He turned west.

The corners of Galkin's mouth quirked up as he moved to follow. "After all that traveling, I would think that you would know your cardinal directions, my lord."

Dwayne shrugged. "You've never traveled with Mei. Just tell her which way to go, and she'll take you in that direction. I haven't had to think about it for weeks."

"Oh. How is she at night?"

Dwayne blinked. "What?"

Galkin laughed. "Keep your mind clean, my lord. I meant, can she use the cosmos as a compass?"

Dwayne let out a breath. "Poetic. And yes, I think. I've never seen her get lost."

"What about young Lady Gallus?"

Dwayne gave a noncommittal shrug, one designed to convey that he'd not been paying attention to how avidly Magdala had been reading the maps or that he hadn't deliberately asked Magdala for directions as an excuse for conversation.

"Ah." The steward's tone indicated that he didn't buy it.

After a few more minutes of walking, they reached a white stone block of a building, which had the Cup of Cueller, the main symbol of Soura's religion, painted in bronze over the door. Recognizing the cup made up the full extent of Dwayne's knowledge about the religion as he had never been baptized into it and Lord Kalan was hardly devout. He walked up to the door and put his hand on the handle.

A familiar voice boomed out. "Dwayne!" Sir Marcus jogged up to them. "Good morning, Dwayne, Galkin."

The steward bowed. "Good morning, sir."

Sir Marcus drew close to Dwayne, his voice dropping to a whisper. "He's not there. It's too dangerous."

Dwayne looked around. "Where is he?"

"First," Sir Marcus pulled Dwayne away from Galkin, "how much do you trust him?"

Dwayne glanced at Galkin who was impeccably dressed in a long dark blue suit and whose hair had been perfectly sculpted around his face, making Dwayne look shabby in comparison. At that moment, Galkin stood relaxed with a patient "ready to serve" expression. Honestly, he was too perfect at his job, and Dwayne hadn't forgotten the steward's knowledge of Qe magic, but his actions yesterday made Dwayne's answer obvious. "He helped save Lord Kalan. I trust him."

Sir Marcus let out a breath. "You hear things, particularly this close to the border."

Dwayne's eyebrows shot up. "Things like?"

"Like people who can use magic to change their face."

Dwayne reviewed all he knew of Qe and Ri magic. "Ridiculous. There's no magic that can do that..." But that creature last night had been unnaturally thin. He'd seen creatures like that before and had no idea if it worked on living humans. "I think."

Sir Marcus nodded. "If you trust him, I trust him. Galkin, with us."

The steward gave a deep bow. "As you wish, sir."

Sir Marcus led the two of them past the infirmary and deeper into the western end of the garrison. Here the smithies, kitchens, and workshops clanged with activity while on the southern end of the courtyard, soldiers drilled with spears to the tune of officers shouting.

Dwayne whistled. "It's much busier now than it was yesterday."

Sir Marcus's expression clouded. "Enemy attacks will do that. I'll take another dragon over whatever that thing was any day. Here we are."

They stepped up to a nondescript door with a sign that said, "Auxiliary Administrative Offices." Dwayne raised an eyebrow.

Sir Marcus chuckled. "Whenever the top brass come by, like Lady Magdala's father, they always bring a huge entourage of staff and that staff always needs an office. Go on in."

Still skeptical, Dwayne opened the door, stepped in, and found a hospital room complete with a nurse who was currently arranging Lord Kalan's sheets. On the other side of the bed, a doctor held the noble mage's limp wrist and counted slowly.

Sir Marcus cleared his throat. "How's it look, doctor?"

"His pulse is slowly growing stronger." The doctor laid Sir Kalan's hand across his chest. "I expect him to wake up within the week. Nish root poisoning is nothing to be sniffed at."

His own heart beating fast, Dwayne walked up to Lord Kalan's bed. It wasn't right. The bed sheets didn't have a speck of ink on them, Dwayne wasn't ankle deep in clothes and paper, and Lord Kalan's chin was clean shaven. Dwayne wanted to grab him by the collar and scream that the man had put him in an impossible position, that he'd chosen the wrong person in front of that cart so long ago.

"Dwayne?" Sir Marcus put his hand on Dwayne's shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Dwayne wiped his nose. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just... Let me know when he wakes up." He turned and fled.

***

Sitting in the garrison infirmary, Magdala watched a doctor look down Taylor's throat.

"Looks fine to me, Corporal." The doctor sat back down in his chair.

Magdala let out a breath. "Good."

Taylor's eyes fell to her boots.

The doctor picked up a stack of paper. "Just have a glass of water and take it easy for a bit." Something on the page caught his eye. "You were... on the other side of the gate during the attack, right? Who'd you see afterwards?"

Taylor's eyes didn't leave her boots. "Doctor Kilsen, sir."

The doctor nodded and stood up. "I'll check her notes to see if there's anything we should be worried about." He frowned. "Come to think of it, I haven't seen her all day..."

When the door closed behind the doctor, Magdala watched Taylor's face turn bright red, and her heart clenched. What would her mother do in this situation? She'd tell Taylor to either step up or get out, and then complete the rest of the investigation by herself. It would be for the best. Magdala opened her mouth.

"I'm sorry, milady."

Magdala's mouth hung open. "For what?"

"I... I thought I could handle this." Taylor's grip on the exam table tightened. "But I can't. I'll ask Colonel Harvey to take me off this assignment."

Magdala nodded and got to her feet. "It's fine. Just feel better, ok?" She walked to the door. This was how it had to be. She could take on all the risks.

Taylor wiped her face and looked up. "Where are you going?"

"To find a laboratory." Magdala opened the door. "I need to run some tests on the red ambersoul solution that we found." She waited for Taylor's response, but the corporal's eyes had returned to her boots. So Magdala left.

The Southern Line Garrison's infirmary, unlike elsewhere in the fortress, was quiet. On standing orders from Magdala's father Lord Gallus, the doctors and nurses had kept the infirmary at maximum readiness and didn't need to rush to prepare for a major action, and so there were no crowds to impede Magdala on her quest to find a laboratory. After half an hour of peering into rooms and muttering apologies, she found one tucked away in the eastern corner of the building. Striding in, she interrupted a nurse who looked up from a set of vials filled with boiling water.

Magdala flashed her ring. "Carry on. I'll be done soon."

Upon seeing her father's emblem, a rearing mustang on a field of grain, the nurse hurriedly returned to his work.

Ignoring him, Magdala pulled a flask off a shelf, filled it with water, and then placed it on top of a stove.

What should she do now that Taylor had quit? She should keep investigating of course, but should she tell Colonel Harvey about it? Would she just end up with a new bodyguard, one that would get in Magdala's way and not like as much? Maybe she shouldn't mention it to the garrison commander at all.

After lighting the stove with a piece of flint she'd found under the counter, Magdala pulled the vial of red liquid out of her cloak and tipped its contents into the flask. Nqeoum was good at identifying anything she'd encountered before, but for everything else, she needed to break them down. Maybe her lord uncle would know something about this. She'd ask him. After he woke up of course.

She frowned. "Have you seen my lord, I mean, Lord Kalan today?" she asked the nurse.

The nurse shook his head.

Magdala's stomach flipped. "Oh, okay."

Pushing the question out of her mind, Magdala turned back to her task and gathered a condenser and other necessary tools. Her lord uncle was probably at Walcrest, bedridden and useless. And alive.

Magdala stirred the red liquid solution over heat, turning the water dark crimson. Surprised, she peered closely at the liquid. However this stuff was made, it was highly concentrated. The red color was probably the iron she'd detected, and maybe it was there to make the creature look more life like. If it was, it hadn't worked. Huan had described the creature's skin as grey, the color of corpses.

When the mixture started boiling, Magdala placed the condenser over it and watched lilac blue drops form, leaving a crimson residue in the flask. When no more blue drops appeared, Magdala removed the condenser, took the flask off the stove with a pair of tongs, and placed it on the counter to cool. She sniffed the steam still rising out of the flask. The residue was as sweet and cloying as a flowery perfume. "Interesting."

Maybe the red stuff was an attempt to mask the smell of decay, a kind of intravenous perfume. After all, Huan had reported a strong smell of pickles. Magdala pondered this, trying to make it all fit.

The nurse craned his neck to see. "What are you working on, ma'am?"

Magdala didn't bother to turn to him. "A personal project."

"Ah. Well, good luck." He left, clean vials in hand.

Not caring, Magdala took notes on the dry red residue, scraped some of it into a vial, and poured the distilled blue ambersoul out of the condenser and into a different vial. After stoppering both and tucking them away into her cloak, she put all the remaining glassware into the sink.

"Milady."

Magdala jumped. Turning, she saw that Taylor now stood in the doorway, looking much better.

Magdala let herself breathe and turned back to the sink. "You're up." She found a bucket of water and poured it into the sink. "Are you feeling better?"

Taylor joined her. "Yes, milady." Her nose wrinkled. "What were you doing?"

Magdala picked up a scrubber and started to clean out the condenser. "Trying to figure out what that red substance was."

Nose still wrinkled, Taylor picked up the flask, found another scrubber, and began to clean it, her muscles flexing to remove the red residue. "Did you figure it out?"

Magdala grimaced. "Why do you want to know? I'll do this alone."

"You could, milady," said Taylor, "but I need to see this through for them who were lost at the gate."

Magdala kept scrubbing the condenser. "This case isn't about you. The fate of Walton, maybe even the whole of Soura, rests on this investigation. I have to do this."

"Me too, milady." Taylor grunted as she scrubbed. "I was just nervous about my assignment, about facing an evil creature like that again, about working with you. But this needs to be done."

Magdala rinsed out the condenser in the bucket. "Fine." She began to put the used glassware away.

"We should get Mei too." Taylor dunked the flask in the bucket. "The way she fights... With her, we'd be unstoppable."

As she took the clean flask from Taylor, a smile crept onto Magdala's face, then faded. Mei had almost died back in the desert fighting Magdala's battles, and the hunter had more important things on her plate. "No, I think we-"

"With respect, milady, you should take help as you find it." Taylor crossed her arms.

Magdala shook her head. "There's more to it. And we don't have the time."

"Sir Marcus said she was a hunter, and we're hunting the bastard who attacked us."

"But-"

"How good is she at hunting?"

"The best."

"Then it's settled."

Magdala gave up. "Fine. After we find Mei, let's go find the bastard who attacked my uncle."

***

Mei stepped off the drawbridge that connected the fortress to Walton and stopped breathing. When she'd first arrived, the town had been winding down, leaving a mob of darkened buildings looming in the night, but now the town showed its true spirit. In front of her, the square, bare and dusty at night, crawled with people from shoppers browsing stalls to children chasing each other across the cobblestones. Around it, houses winked with morning light, their roofs in good repair, a stark contrast to Anders where a roof in good repair was as rare as a grimbear in a church.

"Mei?" Huan's concerned face filled her vision. "Are you okay?"

Mei finally drew in a breath and nodded. "Yes."

She followed her brother and Nathan into the square, drawing the stares of more than a few townspeople. Mei's rifle pulled up eyebrows even in its leather case while Mei's person drew edged scowls and glares. For his part, Huan, whose uniform drew confusion, relished the attention, his sullen slouch disappearing into a strut. Mei smiled, glad to see her brother, not the beast.

Nathan was oblivious. "We should be training, not running errands. If those things break through, I want to be prepared."

"The one I fought wasn't so tough." Huan stopped and sniffed the air. "Gave her a run for her money." He resumed walking, but the strut was gone. Now he stalked.

Mei tensed. That was the beast.

Nathan rolled his eyes. "Right, that's why you're running errands. It's your reward."

Huan's growl made Nathan flinch, and with two long steps, Mei was beside Huan, her hand on her knife. After a moment, the growl disappeared, and Huan patted Mei's hand. "I'm fine."

Mei dropped back but didn't take her eyes off her brother.

Coughing, Nathan pulled the list out of his pocket and read it. "We should go to the weapon smith guild first and tell them that we need a rush job on the armor orders."

Huan scoffed. "Definitely needed two people to do that." He waved at a merchant, who scowled, but backed away when he saw Mei's knife.

"Then," said Nathan, "we have to round up the soldiers currently on leave in the city."

"Awesome," said Huan. "We get to ruin other people's fun too."

"Finally, we'll talk to the guards stationed in the Jungle and see if they've seen anything unusual."

Huan stopped and stared. "There are guards stationed on the other side of the wall?"

Nathan laughed. "Yes, but I mean where the Vanurians live, on the northeastern end of town."

Huan scowled, blinked, and then grinned. "Right, right." He clapped Nathan on the shoulder.

The Souran boy backed away. "What was that for?"

The grin didn't waver. "Let's divide and conquer. You head to the Jungle, and Mei and I will do the rest."

Mei's grip on her knife loosened. This was one of her brother's favorite tricks, convincing the other person that Huan didn't know he was offering a bad deal. It was a dare to call him out.

Nathan didn't hesitate. "No, nuh uh. I'll go to the guild and you can head to the Jungle." He considered Mei. "I suppose Mei can-"

"We've never been here before." Huan swept his hands wide. "How are we supposed to find a bunch of soldiers spread out all over the city?"

Interested, Mei leaned in. "I'll go with Huan."

Huan patted her on the head then smiled at Nathan. "She's not under orders, right? So it doesn't matter what she does. How about we do that guild thing together afterwards?"

Nathan threw his hands up. "Fine. I'll give you directions to the guild. Meet me there in three hours."

"Yeah, sure." Huan put away his smile, its purpose done. His eyes drifted to the crowd, and he sniffed the air and let out a low soft growl.

Mei's hand tightened on her knife, and she searched the crowd for the reason her brother was on edge. In the short time it had taken them to cross the square, the crowd had swelled. Close by, a red-faced man in a blue suit haggled with a woman in a white apron over the price of vegetables. To their left, two girls chased each other, laughing as they darting through the adults, and, on the other side of the square a carriage pulled by proud horses rounded the corner. Just beyond all that, a small figure darted into an alley with a flash of red.

Huan stepped towards that alley.

"Remember, three hours from now," said Nathan.

His voice brought Mei back to the moment. She'd forgotten he was there.

Huan waved Nathan away. "Yeah, yeah, I remember. See you there."

When Nathan was out of earshot, Huan took Mei by the shoulder and leaned in close. "Okay, it looks like we can slack off for a few hours." His eyes kept sliding to the alley, and he kept sniffing.

Mei searched his eyes. "What is it?"

Huan shook his head. "Nothing, I'm just thinking of a way to get us out of this contract. To get us free of them."

Mei's stomach fluttered. "Get us free? Why?"

Huan patted her on the head. "You'll see. It'll be better. This contract is like that damn wall over there." He pointed to the Southern Line, which loomed over them, replacing the sky. "It's in our way, but we'll break through it together." He pulled away from her.

Mei felt rooted to the spot, but she had to say something. "Huan."

He was already five paces away. "Look, just get to the guild or whatever. I'll be right behind you."

"I don't understand."

Huan's eyes flashed gold. "I'm your older brother and I-" He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, his eyes were their usual dark brown. "Just... just do this for me. It'll be all right. I promise."

The fluttering in Mei's stomach wasn't gone, and she still felt like she was pinned in place, but she nodded.

Huan grinned. "Thanks, you're the best. Go get something sharp from the guild." Sniffing, he turned in the direction of the red flash and ran.

Now, Mei was alone with her brother's last grin hanging like a noose in the air. That grin wasn't of gratitude, but of relief. Mei finally managed to take a step, to take up the pursuit, to find out what Huan was up to, but she wanted to trust that he knew what he was doing.

A hand clapped her on the back. "Mei, I'm glad we caught up to you. Whoa!"

Mei's hand had flown to her knife causing Saundra to step back with her hands up.

Mei released the knife and returned to a neutral stance, hands at her side, feet slightly apart. "What is it?"

Maggie stepped out from behind Saundra and sighed. "Sir Pollum said he'd sent Nathan and your brother to run errands."

Saundra nodded at the fortress. "The guard said you decided to tag along."

Maggie looked around. "Where are they? Are they both slacking off?"

"No." Mei's lie tasted sour. "They're working."

Maggie nodded. "Good. Sir Marcus is making the useless useful."

Saundra leaned in. "Want to help us catch the creature that attacked Lord Kalan?" She waggled her eyebrows.

Mei covered her laugh with her hand.

"Good, I made you laugh. So, will you?"

If Mei caught up to the assassin before her brother, maybe Tiger would back off, and maybe she'd get her brother back. She nodded.

"Great!" Saundra clapped Mei on the back, nearly knocking her over. "Show her that stuff you found, milady."

Maggie looked sick. "Are you sure?" she asked Mei.

"Yes," said Mei.

Maggie shook her head. "Fine." She pulled out a vial of red liquid out of her cloak and opened it, and a rich sweet scent filled Mei's nose. "Do you recognize this scent?"

Mei was reminded of honey and fruit, but shook her head. "What is it?"

"Vanurian," answered Maggie.

"We're looking for where it came from," said Saundra.

If they were hunting the creature, Mei would need something sharp. "First, the weapon smith guild," she replied.