When Huan opened his eyes and once again found himself in an unfamiliar bed, his hand jumped to his throat and found Tiger's mask. Relaxing, he patted himself down. New, thicker, tighter bandages covered his torso, making it hard to breathe, and when he sat up, his head lit up with pain.

“I heard what happened.”

Huan looked up. Sitting in a beaten wooden chair, Nathan sliced off pieces of a strange red fruit and inserted them into his mouth.

“Sure-" Huan coughed. His throat was as dry as sand. "Sure, you did.”

The squire sliced off another piece of fruit. “Mei had you put to sleep. You gave into that mask, didn't you?”

Huan crossed his arms. “Shut up.”

“Sir Pollum says you should stay in bed." Nathan ate the piece of fruit. "By the way, I heard the doctor used words like ‘disemboweled' and ‘mangled’, and that she wanted to keep you under for your own good.” He cut into the fruit again.

Huan glared at Nathan. “That would have been a mistake."

Nathan cut off another piece of fruit, put it into his mouth, and chewed. Then, after too long, he swallowed. “Sure, it would have been. At any rate, I have orders for you from Baron Harvey: ‘Stay in bed.’ She plans to deport every single Vanurian in Walton, and she doesn't want you to run in and mess things up like you did for Magdala. I've seen Corporal Taylor angry before; I've never seen her furious.”

Huan tried to intensify his glare, but Nathan just smirked. “You know, I was thinking about something. We're not too different.”

Huan's glare failed to immolate Nathan where he sat.

“When I came here," continued Nathan, "I thought I knew what I was doing. Swordsmanship is a requirement for nobility, and every boy from Her Majesty's son to a knight’s issue is taught how to wield a blade, and of course, I'd fought a dragon.”

Huan rolled his eyes. “If you could call what you did 'fighting'."

Nathan inspected the remains of his fruit. “But then I came here and learned that soldiering, real soldiering, is nothing like they teach you in guarded keeps and secluded castles.” He put the fruit down in his lap, his eyes looking off into memory. “When I got here, they put us in groups of ten and made us run two thousand wirs. I ran the whole length of course, but seven of us didn’t make it, and so they made us run it again the next day, saying, ‘Either all of you make it or none of you do.’ So we failed again and again, and one day, while I was waiting for the rest of my squad with two others, I saw another squad arriving. Just four of them had made it to the end. I laughed and jeered at them, told them they were a bunch of losers and, right then, two more of them came around the corner. It was Taylor, and she was carrying one of her squadmates. After she got her mate to the finish line, she patted them on the back and said, ‘The rest are close. Anyone want to help me get them?’

"The three of us in my squad laughed at her. We thought that they were soft, weak, useless, but while we were laughing, Taylor gave us that stupidly brilliant smile of hers and said, 'I just want us all to make it.’ Then she jogged back and grabbed the rest of her squad. They passed.”

Huan laid back in bed. “Your point? They were weak; they couldn’t make it to the end. They shouldn't have passed.”

Nathan's eyes met Huan's. “I thought about that. I thought about what they’d told us and why Saundra and her squad had passed, but I didn't get it, so I told Sir Pollum that Taylor had cheated, and he said, ‘If your squad can’t trust you not to leave the weakest behind, why shouldn’t they leave you when you’re weak?’" Nathan looked away. “I saw your sister last night and... Cups, I don’t like either of you. I think that you both are pretentious fakes and that you’re wasting Lord Kalan’s time and money, but Mei knows when she needs help. Do you?”

Huan's face went hot. “I am not weak! I don’t need anyone’s help. If she and the others hadn’t gotten in my way, I’d have had my hands around that witch’s throat.”

Nathan popped the last of the fruit into his mouth, swallowed, and sighed. “Sir Pollum wanted me to tell you that story. He thought you'd learn from it." He stood up, licking his fingers. “I’m going back to work. You do what you want. After all, it’ll be your guts in the dirt, not mine.” He exited the room.

It took a long time for Huan's rage to fade, and when the red had finally drained from his vision, he looked around. Unlike before, this time he was in a proper infirmary room, complete with a window and whitewashed walls. There was a change of clothes though, green and white civilian ones.

Maybe they’ve kicked me out of the garrison.

The thought made Huan smile. He slipped out of bed, gritting his teeth as new stitches dug into his side, warning him to just stay in bed. Part of him wanted to heed that warning, and another part was alarmed that he couldn’t remember anything after submitting himself to Tiger, but he ignored both parts and focused on his rage and betrayal.

Damn Dwayne for not backing me up. Damn Magdala for sedating him. Damn Mei for-

His sister's eyes had been so sad, looking down the barrel of her rifle. He couldn't remember what Tiger had done, but he could remember that. A lump formed in his throat.

I can’t let her be afraid of me.

Next time he used the mask, he’d stay in control and guide the beast. It should be easy. He held back emotions all the time.

When he picked up the tunic, his passport clattered to the floor. He picked it up and looked at the circle and triangle engraving. He didn't have to go after Liraya, but she still had something that he needed. Freedom.

He got dressed.

***

Magdala woke up, turned over in her bed, and stared at the ceiling. She didn't have anything to do. For the past two days, she'd been running around trying to catch up to the enemy, and now all she had was hours and hours of studying to do. Yawning, she rolled out of bed, padded to the door, and paused. Saundra wasn't going to be there, and Mei was probably going to be at Huan's bedside. Their trio had been broken apart.

Someone knocked at the door and Magdala flung it open.

A servant shrank away from her, clutching a cream colored envelope to his chest. "Milady, a letter for you?" He held the envelope out.

Her heart shrinking, Magdala took it and allowed the servant to flee. Closing the door, she sat down at the desk. It was probably from her mother, and it was probably going to be a lecture on responsibility or something equally galling. She flipped over the envelope, saw the green and gold wax seal, and grinned. It was from her friend Francesca who was still studying at the Magisterium Academy. Tearing the envelope open, she pulled out the letter and read it.

Dear Magdala,

I hope this finally reaches you. I've been trying for weeks to get in touch, but you've been all over the queendom. Did you really go to Yumma? Did you really duel a Ri mage? Did you really fight a dragon? You must tell me everything.

Magdala devoured the letter, and when she was done, she read it again, but something was nagging at her. Fran described starting new courses in advanced magic as exciting, but Magdala couldn't see sitting in a classroom as being exciting, not anymore. Last night, she'd helped take down a giant. Her ideas, her actions, her plans had almost caught a foreign agent. She put the letter aside. She'd answer it later. Maybe she could do something now other than sit in her room, studying. She dressed in her traveling clothes, leather chest armor, boots and all, and went downstairs to the dining hall.

Dwayne and her lord uncle were already at breakfast, having an argument.

"Dwayne, I am your master." Lord Kalan slammed his palms onto the table. "Do as I say!" He stood up and then, without fanfare, collapsed back into his chair as his legs gave out from under him.

Dwayne only hesitated a little. "I am not going to go to talk to merchants and... and clerics! I'm getting this estate ready for Lord Gallus's arrival. Isn't that enough for you?"

Lord Kalan wiped sweat from his brow. "You are my heir and so are expected to-"

"I'm glad you brought that up. I agreed to be your apprentice. I never agreed to be your heir!"

Magdala sat down, and while her breakfast of poached eggs, fluffed greens, and toast was brought to her, she waved Galkin over. "What are they arguing about?"

The steward kept his voice low. "Lord Kalan wants Master Dwayne to take over talking to the civic, business, and religious leaders of the city."

Magdala frowned. "By himself?"

Galkin's face went blank. "Yes."

"It is a necessity for us to reach our goal," said Lord Kalan.

Dwayne crossed his arms. "I don't see how."

"Because it is important that you are able to do this!" Lord Kalan got to his feet and managed to stay up right. "Do this because it is necessary for bringing the whole world to a greater understanding of magic."

Dwayne's eyes dropped and he glared at his plate.

Sighing, Lord Kalan sat back down. "This is all for your own good." He picked up his fork. "Now eat. You have a long day ahead of you."

While Lord Kalan tore into his food, Dwayne continued to stare at his meal, fury creasing his face, and for a long time, the only sounds came from Lord Kalan's utensils knocking against his plate.

Lord Kalan glanced up. "Did you sleep well, Magdala?"

Keeping her eyes on Dwayne, she nodded.

"Good." Lord Kalan smiled. "I must say that you've become quite the battle mage. Aside from practitioners like myself and Lady Pol, that art is now quite gone from the queendom."

Magdala raised an eyebrow. "What about Mother?"

Lord Kalan froze. "Your mother is... well, you know. If she found herself in combat, she'd figure it out. She's figured out everything else."

Would Magdala's mother be able to take down Liraya? If those things didn't need to breathe, just swamping them with water wouldn't be enough.

"Are you not hungry, my lady?" asked Galkin.

Magdala started and looked down at her plate, which was still untouched. "No, I'll eat." She sliced off a piece of egg, put it in her mouth, and nearly cried. It was the best thing she'd had in ages.

"Where's Mei?" she asked, spearing a pile of greens.

Dwayne finally got some food on his fork. "She came in earlier, practically inhaled a plate, and left. She said she was going with Sir Pollum somewhere."

"Oh, I thought... Nevermind."

"What?" Dwayne turned away from Lord Kalan.

"I... just wanted to take down Liraya, and I need her help."

"Out of the question." Lord Kalan sliced off a piece of toast. "Charlotte doesn't want you wandering around poking your nose everywhere. You're to stay here at the estate."

Magdala's mouth fell open. "What?"

"Oh, I almost forgot." Lord Kalan put his fork down and looked Magdala in the eyes. "Thank you for saving my life."

Magdala felt her ears heat up. "It... I didn't even catch the culprit."

Lord Kalan smiled. "Dwayne reported three Revenants last night. Holding out against that kind of power is beyond impressive. Do not sell yourself short."

"Then-"

"You will give me your study plan by lunchtime. After I adjust it, you'll start your studies this afternoon. Let's add some academic achievements to the martial ones you already have."

Magdala shook her head. "No."

Lord Kalan's eyes narrowed. "You need to be prepared to return to the Academy. They aren't going to appreciate the work you've been doing out here, no matter how impressive or effective. Considering the circumstances of your suspension, you need to develop more... acceptable magics."

Magdala dropped her fork and knife on the table. "Finding the enemy is more important. Keeping this town alive is more important."

Lord Kalan closed his eyes "You two..."

Galkin appeared by the door, bowing. "My lord, you have a visitor."

Lord Kalan wiped his mouth. "Who is it?"

"Baron Phillipp Dietrich, Mayor of Walton."

"Show him in." Lord Kalan turned to Dwayne. "It'll be good practice."

Before Dwayne could reply, a man in his middle thirties and dressed in blue and gray silks strode into the room. He stopped in front of Lord Kalan and bowed. "Lord Kalan. I'm glad to see you're up and about."

Lord Kalan leaned back in his chair. "I'm sure you are. What brings you to the summit today?"

Mayor Dietrich kept his expression grave. "The events of last night were very troubling, and the residents of Walton have sent me a great many requests for information as to what you plan to do about our safety as the Guardian of The Wall."

Lord Kalan snorted. "A 'great many requests', huh? What are you expecting from me that you won't get from the garrison?"

The mayor pressed his lips together. "You have the Queen's ear and thus a way to convince Lord Gallus to send more troops here immediately. It would assure the residents to know that they are protected."

Lord Kalan laughed. "You cannot seriously believe that I could sway Gerald's mind in any way. My brother-in-law does not lack spine; in fact, he may have a surplus of it. He'll send only what he deems necessary, no more, no less."

Magdala caught Dwayne's eye. Judging from the dropped jaw and the wide eyes, this was a side of Lord Kalan that neither of them had ever seen before. The man Magdala had once mistaken for a pile of clothes was now a lord.

"What other concerns do you have?" asked Lord Kalan.

The mayor's jaw flexed for a moment. "The bishop of the local diocese is agitating for the expulsion of the Vanurians to the other side of the Southern Line, and she plans to give a speech about it this afternoon on the church steps. I only heard about it because the captain of the city guard was concerned that it would stir up wild feeling in our residents. Finally, an Elder is advising the merchants to pack up and leave, and, if she has her way, Walton will be a ghost town."

"Except for all the soldiers running around," said Lord Kalan.

The mayor stepped forward. "The Queen charged me with keeping Walton safe. I cannot, will not, fail."

Lord Kalan rubbed his chin. "I have some business here on the estate. My brother-in-law's inspection has become a war council, and the estate is not ready to receive that."

The mayor's shoulders slumped. "Then you will do nothing?"

"No, I will send my heir."

Dwayne jumped to his feet. "Sir!"

Magdala did too. "Uncle!"

Lord Kalan raised his hand for quiet.

Mayor Dietrich looked Magdala and Dwayne over, his eyes lingering on Magdala's red hair. He blinked and bowed deeply. "Lady Gallus, I did not realize you were here."

Dwayne stepped up next to Lord Kalan. "I would like to speak to you alone, sir."

"Denied." Lord Kalan stood up, staggered for a moment, then straightened. "You are my heir. You can handle this."

Mayor Dietrich's eyes narrowed. "So it's true. You've named an heir."

"Yes, I have." Lord Kalan walked over to the mayor and placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Best you remember that."

The mayor, still looking unhappy, nodded and stepped away. "Till we meet again."

"I'll walk you out," said Lord Kalan.

The two men left the dining hall, talking in low voices.

Dwayne collapsed back into his chair and put his head in his hands. "How am I supposed to do this?"

Magdala considered why she'd been chasing Liraya. It wasn't just because it was the most exciting thing to have ever happened in her life. It was because it was the right thing to do. What was the right thing to do now? Was it to go upstairs and study? No.

"Not alone," she said. "I'll help."

Besides, it would make a better story to tell Fran.

***

Huan stopped following Liraya's fading trail and looked around. For some reason, hundreds of people were gathering in front of a many steepled structure that reached up into the sky. After noting the lack of Liraya or her parade of walking corpses, he sniffed. His nose wrinkled. The crowd was rank with fear, which fueled an anger that spilled out in mutterings and glares. The people around Huan spoke in swallowed consonants and confusing idioms and sported red, freckled faces. These were Walton's regular residents, and Liraya would stand out here just as much as Huan did.

Fleeing here doesn't make any sense.

Huan felt the lack of the garrison uniform. Without it, people focused on the shape of his eyes and the color of his hair, and they questioned why he'd deign to come here. He could slip out and go around the crowd, but it was growing larger by the second, its center drifting towards him, and anyway, Liraya's trail led through it. As Tiger rumbled something nonsensical about fighting them all, Huan kept walking, keeping his ears open.

"Those bitches broke into the garrison. Tried to kill Lord Barty."

"What do we care? He's not been in town for ages."

"I heard he took a black one for an apprentice."

"The boy saved him though. He's one of the good ones, I hear."

Huan kept moving, bowing and making sounds of apology. Then he tried to move someone aside who wouldn't.

The man turned around. "What do you want?" He was taller than Huan, older too with gray hair on his head and beard. His eyes took in Huan's features and his nose wrinkled. "What's one of you doing here?"

Huan kept his own disgust off his face. By the man's breath, he'd been drinking something cheap and strong, and he stood with an open stance, daring Huan to claw out his eyes, rip out his throat and leave him for-

Tiger!

The beast slunk back into its corner, and the red haze dropped from Huan's eyes. The man was wearing a tunic and trousers made of hard worn cotton so he was probably a laborer, one who was now off work, angry, and drunk.

Huan gave a deep bow. "I came to this town to make good deals. Got people who want stuff moved but can't find anyone to move it." Huan kept his consonants clear, but let his vowels stretch out, just enough like a Souran merchant's accent to pass muster.

The man sneered. "What's a money man doing out here?"

Huan let his eyes go wide as he looked around. "Looking for answers. Money needs to go into the right pockets and right now it's not. Honest folk like yourselves shouldn't lose out on an honest day's work. It's just shameful."

The laborer crossed his arms. "A man of the people, are you?"

Huan allowed a wan smile. "Hardly. But my money is."

The man barked out a laugh. "It should be. It should be."

"I'll be seeing you," said Huan pushing past. "Let's get some money in your pockets."

Huan didn't hear the man's reply, but many in the crowd had heard their exchange, and so they let him through. Once past the crowd, he found himself in the middle of a bunch of warehouses. Reacquiring Liraya's scent with a sniff, he followed her trail through the buildings to a small wooden one where a broken padlock lay in the dust.

A scream broke the silence.

Putting his hand to Tiger's mask, Huan wrested open the door, slipped inside, then reeled from the pungent smell of magic and death. Tiger stirred, but he pushed the beast back. He was unarmed. His sword was still in the armory where Sir Marcus had left it, and without it, and with the injuries he'd sustained last night, he didn't stand a chance against either the wraith or the giant. Slowing his breathing, he crept around crates and approached the far end of the warehouse where grunts and clangs echoed, but when a familiar scent of oil and explosive powder tickled his nose, he stopped sneaking and stepped around the corner.

Mei, Sir Marcus, and three garrison soldiers were locked in battle with a half dozen of the moaning not alives. As Huan watched, Mei tripped a creature with a well placed toe and let its neck fall on the edge of her new axe, which neatly removed its head. After ducking and allowing another creature's momentum to take it over her shoulder, she dropped her axe on the thing's neck and used her knee to slam the blade through to the floor. Around her, the Sourans struggled to fight off the creatures, each of them trying to duel the things, but Mei on the other hand...

She baits, they bite, she kills. Tiger's read of Mei's fighting style helped Huan make sense of her actions. The ravenous creatures were simple and their attacks lacked guile, and so instead of dueling the creatures, Mei let them come to her.

Still, she was in Huan's way. He stepped forward. "What the hell are you doing here?"

***

Dwayne lifted his head from his hands, his eyes shining. "You're going to help?"

Magdala's chest tightened as she nodded. "It sounds like the priest is the more pressing issue. The merchant camp is too big to go anywhere fast."

Dwayne blinked. "We're going in order of urgency?"

"Yes, a merchant camp of that size will take days to move, and its Elder won't get her way quickly. The Priest on the other hand is ready to give her speech now."

Dwayne rose to his feet. "Then we'd better get over there now."

Magdala gestured for him to sit back down. "We need a plan first. Have you spoken with a priest of Cueller before?"

"No."

"Attended a service?"

"No."

Both of Magdala's eyebrows rose. "Never?"

Dwayne sat back in his chair. "Your uncle finds the hour or so it takes to attend service to be a waste of time and... Well..." He shifted in his seat. "I've never felt welcome in church."

Magdala clasped her hands. "Did someone call you a demon?

"No, why... no one called me a demon... It was... Do you remember when we met for the first time?"

Back then, Magdala had been angry that her lord uncle had stood her up and had been unprepared to meet a Wesen so deep in Souran territory. She remembered how awkward the atmosphere had been when he'd entered the tavern. "You shouldn't have paid so much for that crappy drink."

Dwayne shrugged. "I didn't want any trouble, and going into a church is a good way to invite trouble."

"We have to talk to the priest. As my lord uncle's representative, you have to."

Dwayne winced. "I just want to study magic and figure out the mystery behind the Font. This is too much."

Magdala squared her shoulders. "You can do it. You can do it better than my lord uncle."

Dwayne gave her a wry grin. "That's a low bar."

Magdala grinned back. "Then it'll be easy to clear."

Taking a deep breath, Dwayne said, "What do I need to know? Armsford doesn't say anything about talking to priests."

Magdala's head jerked back. "You're reading The Responsibilities of a Noble Mage?"

"Yes, I am. Why?"

Magdala's cheeks heated. "I just... Didn't expect you to be reading it. Mother made us read it when we were six."

Dwayne let out a barking laugh. "Yet again I'm learning stuff that Sourans learn as little children. One day I hope to catch up to ten year olds."

"You've more than caught up in other areas." Magdala's blush deepened, but Dwayne didn't notice.

"Sure, sure, maybe in magical theory," he said. "So, what do I need to know about Cueller clergy?"

Magdala got her feelings under control with a cough. "The Church of Cueller finds mages. When a child is confirmed in the church, they're baptized with holy water and that tells the administering priest if the child has magic or not."

"How does that work?"

Magdala shrugged. "Something about the water. I haven't really thought about it."

"Hmm..." Dwayne leaned back in his chair. "So they see themselves as monitors over mages."

"Yes, and they don't trust any one who doesn't believe in the Book of Cueller. That includes the Vanurians who believe in the Book of Phons, the Tuquese who don't seem to have any beliefs at all, and the Wesen-"

"Who are demons made flesh," finished Dwayne, a grin ghosting on his lips. "So I shouldn't reveal my Ri magic to them. That's pretty par for the course so far."

Magdala sat back in her chair. "The Church does listen to the people though. Where nobles care about land and merchants care about money, the church cares about the people, and so the people listen. We can't let this priest rile them up. Walton may exist because of the garrison, but it's wealthy because of the Vanurians."

Dwayne looked down at his empty plate. "That's a sticking point. Part of me doesn't want to help the Vanurians."

Magdala jumped out of her chair. "We have to in order to save the town. Not all Vanurians are... are..."

"Slave masters?" Dwayne sighed. "I know. Odette, Lady Pol's traveling companion, is Vanurian, and she saved my life. She left a good job as an Inspector because she saw what was happening to the slaves, and those things we fought last night were made from Vanurian corpses, not Wesen. None of them had hair like mine, noses like mine, or skin like mine. They use the bodies of their own people like it's nothing." His eyes met Magdala's. "Have you been to the Jungle?"

Magdala nodded.

"What's it like?"

Magdala's eyes slid away. "It's a shantytown. Their houses are falling apart and the roads are too. It was horrible."

Dwayne closed his eyes. "I can still feel the chains, hear the ocean, smell the refuse. I have long nights where the fear that they'll drag me back to that damn island holds me awake. That's the part that won't forgive them, any of them." He opened his eyes. "But I have to be better than the ones who enslaved me." He smiled. "I'm guessing you don't want to talk to this priest either. You want to hunt down the enemy mage."

Magdala felt her blush return. "She got away, and she's hurt a lot of people."

"If you want, I can try to do this alone-"

"No, I help you then you help me." She stuck her hand out. "Deal?"

Dwayne stood and took her hand, his callused fingers caressing hers. "Deal."