“Hey… Imo.

  Wanting something can feel like freedom,

  right up until you realize someone was counting on it.”

  “Hey—damn you, let go! They’re staring at us. They’re staring!”

  Nagi flails, trying to pry me off her, but my grip refuses to loosen.

  “You’re probably used to this crybaby already, right?” she calls out to the others, half-pleading. “Nothing weird going on here. Can someone give me a hand?”

  A ripple of quiet laughter passes through the room—soft, relieved. The first real sound of ease since everything went to hell.

  “Laughter,” Kiereth murmurs weakly, “is the best sound one can hope to wake up to.”

  “Aye…” Veil adds quietly. “Missed that sound. Near forgot what it were like.”

  “Oh, look,” Nagi grumbles. “Patient’s awake. Get that dirty blue tail away from me before I bite it off.”

  I release her at once and drop to my knees beside Kiereth’s bed.

  “Kier… how are you feeling?”

  Before he can answer, a palm presses against my cheek and nudges me aside. Nagi is already there, hands moving with practiced efficiency—checking bandages, pupils, pulse. Focused. Precise. Then she steps back, arms crossing.

  “If anything feels off—anything—say it. You’re probably not imagining it.”

  “What happened…?” Kiereth murmurs. “Where is Nodo?”

  He shifts, trying to sit up.

  “Oi—don’t,” Nagi snaps. “He’ll bleed all over if he starts walking in that state.”

  I press a hand to his shoulder, keeping him down. “You heard the doctor.”

  Nagi glances toward a nearby door. “That Seryth girl, right? You don’t need to worry about her. Crew said she was in bad shape when they found her. By the time she got to me, she was already uninjured. Even the arm she lost started regrowing.” A shrug. “Must be fully back by now.”

  “That’s—” Cinna goes pale. “…that shouldn’t be possible.”

  “Signora’s orders are to keep her under,” Nagi continues flatly. “Don’t let her wake up. So that’s what I’m doing. Figured you wouldn’t want her wandering around finishing the job she started on your faces.”

  “Nagi,” I ask quietly, “what are you doing here? Why are you working for her? You told me you didn’t want to leave Callistra. So I went to Vellaris alone.”

  She rubs her forehead—her old tell. I narrow my eyes.

  “Captain Ulric. Chariot squad.” Ulric steps forward, extending a hand. “You took good care of us yesterday. Sorry we didn’t get to thank you properly.”

  She takes his hand, firm grip. “Just doing my job.”

  I gesture toward her. “She’s the one who recommended me to the Valiants.”

  Surprise flickers across their faces.

  Nagi grimaces, then shrugs. “I’m a damn good doctor. As you can see.”

  She flips open a notebook, skims, then snaps it shut. Her eyes flick to Kiereth. “Finding a place willing to take in that hopeless blue fuzz wasn’t hard. Now—visit the patient, not the doctor.”

  I offer Kiereth a small smile. “Nagi says you’ll be fine. So… you will.”

  “…Hearing joy around me,” he says softly, “is hardly unpleasant. It does good for the soul.”

  Ulric steps forward. “Would you explain what actually happened? We need to decide what to do—and I’m not splitting my squad.”

  Kiereth looks to me.

  “Nagi already knows,” I say quietly. “If it weren’t for her, I don’t think I would’ve survived my meeting with Prim.”

  “So he is…” Nagi cuts herself off short, choosing her words carefully—for once.

  I nod, then straighten, turning to face the others as I gather my thoughts.

  “We’re… not just one person,” I say at last. “That’s the only way I know how to explain it. We were born normal. Then, somewhere along the way, we had an encounter that changed everything.”

  I draw a breath.

  “I’d never held a sword before I met Prim. And with her… you saw what I could do.”

  I glance toward Kiereth. He nods faintly.

  “And we lost the ability to use magic in the traditional sense,” I continue. “Anything I try now just… becomes this.”

  I hold out my hand. A small orange crystal forms in my palm.

  Cinna nods almost immediately, pieces clicking into place. Veil frowns, baffled, like he’s missing something everyone else can see. Ulric studies the crystal without a word.

  Kiereth shifts, attempting to sit up, then settles back against the bed.

  “I can corroborate that,” he says quietly. “My memory is unreliable, but I know I never trained in martial arts.” He lifts a hand weakly. “And… I recall the feeling of once being able to use magic.”

  “So,” Cinna says carefully, “that waterspout wasn’t magic?”

  Kiereth nods after a moment.

  “That’s what I know for certain,” I say. “Beyond that… I have theories.”

  Ulric exchanges a look with the others. “What about the snake woman?”

  “She is too…” Kiereth hesitates. “We spent many years together. But that was a long time ago.”

  “And Minnara,” I add, flinching before forcing myself to stand straighter. “Probably. I’m not certain—but I have reasons to believe she’s one too.”

  “Edgar’s niece?” Cinna murmurs. “Then…”

  “You saw the cargo we brought,” Ulric says heavily. “Something was very wrong there.”

  I turn to Nagi. “Do you know why Signora was at the ceremony?”

  She exhales. “Look, I’m just the doctor. I don’t get briefed on that sort of thing.”

  “She used to be a big name in Vellaris,” Veil adds, eyes flicking briefly to me. “Then three years back—poof. Gone. Shifted her lot east. Didn’t say nowt to most o’ ’em. Only kept a handful she trusted.”

  He hesitates, jaw tightening.

  “By time Ulric asked me to sign on… Cat was already there.”

  “…Cat,” I murmur.

  Nagi studies me for a second longer than necessary, eyes narrowing just a touch.

  “Huh,” she says. “Til not with you?” A beat. “Thought you two were inseparable.”

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “…You recommended him too?” I ask, stunned.

  She scoffs. “Last I checked, you two were one decent conversation away from patching things up.”

  She turns back to Ulric. “Either way, I’ve only been here a little longer than the fuzzball’s been with you lot. I can stitch you back together—but don’t ask me what’s going on inside that woman’s head.”

  I squint at her, then look to the others. “…What should we do?”

  My gaze drops. “I can’t imagine Kiereth would leave Nodo with her. And…” My voice softens. “Cat’s unhappy here. I can’t just walk away from that.”

  “There’s Edgar,” Cinna adds, jaw tight. “Minnara. The statue. Nodo. I can’t pretend none of that matters.”

  Ulric nods slowly, absorbing it all, then looks to Veil.

  “Cat’s one of ours,” Veil says quietly. “If Imo says summat’s wrong, I’m not arguin’.”

  Ulric exhales. “…Next time I see Lucius, I’m demanding a raise.” He folds his arms. “And time off.”

  Then he straightens.

  “We stay. We listen. Then we decide what comes next.”

  No one disagrees.

  Nagi remains behind with Kiereth. The rest of us head back toward the lounge.

  I freeze as Signora’s voice drifts out ahead of us.

  “Ah…” she murmurs, almost a sigh. “How I missed these hands…”

  My pace quickens. I barge into the room—and stop short.

  Cattleya stands behind Signora’s sofa, her hands working carefully at the woman’s shoulders. Signora’s eyes are half-lidded, posture loose, indulgent.

  “Ah, you’re back. Good.” Signora lifts a hand lazily.

  Cattleya withdraws at once, stepping back to her place beside the sofa, head lowered.

  “Sit. Talk,” Signora says lightly. “Would you like a drink?” She slides her jacket back on.

  She gestures vaguely toward Cattleya.

  My jaw tightens.

  “No drinks necessary, ma’am,” Ulric says, taking a seat. He motions for us to join him. “We’re ready to hear the answers to the questions we discussed earlier.”

  No warmth. Just restraint.

  “Well…” Signora hums, wetting her lips with a playful flick of her tongue.

  “Your question was about the statue, right, girlie?” Her gaze slides to Cinna. “And the teleport crystal.”

  Cinna nods.

  “The answer’s simple, girlie.” Signora settles back. “Mister Edgar is a sick puppy. I didn’t know what would happen until it did.” A shrug. “Frankly, I can't say he did either.”

  Her eyes drift across us, slow and idle.

  “He’s been poking and prodding that woman for years. Figuring out how she ticks. Taking her apart, putting her back together.” A faint smile. “Built a few nasty little toys from what he learned.”

  She scoffs.

  “I kept tabs on him. Didn’t like what I saw. And I was bored besides, so when he sent her this way, I followed.”

  A pause. Then quieter:

  “Didn’t expect he wanted her to slaughter the entire eastern delegation.” A click of her tongue. “Caught me off guard. And I’ll have you know—that’s not easy.”

  She gestures toward Cinna.

  “The other question’s easier. The crystal’s attuned somewhere in Vellaris. Where exactly? No idea.” A shrug. “Figured I’d save myself the trip.”

  “Do you have proof?” Cinna asks carefully. “There could be a misunderstanding. The Academy would never—”

  “You serious?” Signora laughs, genuinely startled. “Girlie, the Academy doesn’t just authorize it—they host yearly exhibitions.” A smirk. “That’s how I learned about that scaled thing of theirs.”

  She waves a hand.

  “It’s Vellaris. Even with proof, it wouldn’t matter. The Nuras are untouchable there.” A shrug. “One of them could gut someone in the street and walk free by supper.”

  She reclines again and gestures. Cattleya steps forward, offering her a drink. Signora accepts it without looking.

  “So,” Ulric says carefully, “you intend to return to Vellaris. Do you plan to act?”

  “Ah…” Signora exhales. “The intention’s there. The timing?” She tilts her head. “Too much work. I’ll hold my chips a while. Wait for a cleaner opening.” A lazy smile. “Only fools rush in without counting the cost.”

  “What if we made the opening?”

  The words leave me before I can stop them.

  I step forward, eyes lingering on Cattleya a moment too long.

  “We’ve handled situations like this before. You know we weren’t helpless without you. We’re on the same side.”

  My gaze fixes on Cattleya.

  “Let her leave with us. We’ll work together.”

  Her head stays bowed, but her hands tighten at her sides.

  I look back at Signora.

  That smile again. Pleased. Expectant.

  “Well, well, well…” she purrs. “I agree with you, girlie. Truly.”

  Then, lightly:

  “But what you’re asking for? That comes after marriage.”

  “What—?” I blurt. “What are you talking about?”

  She laughs, rich and delighted.

  “Oh, the pretty boy can explain it if you like.” A wave of her hand. “In our circles, alliances like that require shared accountability.” A knowing look. “So I know you won’t run when I need you to cover me.”

  She turns to Ulric.

  “I could move back to Vellaris. Take up residence in that lovely tower of yours. Catch up with my old friend Lucius.” Her smile widens. “Spend so much time around you lot that no one could pretend we’re unrelated.”

  She spreads her arms.

  “That’s marriage.”

  “And you think he’d accept that?” Ulric asks, narrowing his eyes.

  “If I walked in alone? No.” A chuckle. “But if you share what you’ve learned. Stand with me when the question comes up?” A shrug. “I think he will.”

  Her hand drifts—deliberate—toward Cattleya.

  “Besides,” she continues calmly, “that way all my resources are yours. Funding. Intelligence. Manpower.” A pause. “And if I move into your home, I’ll make sure my daughter’s comfortable too.”

  …Daughter?

  “Excuse me, ma’am,” Ulric says carefully, gesturing between the two of them. “Are you related to—”

  Signora shifts just enough to glance at Cattleya.

  Cattleya stiffens instantly, shoulders drawing in, tension winding tighter with every second of attention.

  “You didn’t tell your friends?” Signora tsks softly. “Pet, honestly. You really must learn to communicate better. I keep telling you that.”

  Cattleya turns her face away, jaw clenched.

  “Oh, not by blood, obviously.” Signora waves a hand. “But we’ve been together a long while.” She tilts her head, as if thinking. “Hmm… wasn’t your birthday recently? Fifteen years since I picked you up, yes?”

  Her gaze flicks between Cattleya and Ulric.

  “Time flies.”

  “If she’s your daughter,” I snap, “then maybe stop calling her pet.”

  Her smile widens.

  Ah. She’s enjoying this.

  “You’re right, missy,” Signora says pleasantly. “That is inappropriate.” A pause. “Something best saved for private moments. Not polite company.”

  Respectful words.

  Mocking eyes.

  I feel Prim press against the back of my skull—hot, eager. One step. One decision. I could tear her out of this place and Ulric would understand.

  A sharp bang—wood scraping against stone—jerks me back.

  “Thank you, Signora,” Ulric says loudly as he rises. “We won’t make blind promises. But I’ll take your concerns directly to Lucius.”

  His gaze pins me in place.

  “I’ll need a detailed list of assets you intend to share, should this… alliance proceed.”

  He knows exactly what I was about to do.

  “Why, thank you, Captain Ulric,” Signora replies warmly. “That’s all I could hope for.”

  She beckons with two fingers.

  “Cattleya, dear. Please show our guests to their rooms.” Her tone softens, indulgent. “And call the chef. We’re not going out today.”

  Cattleya nods and steps forward.

  “Because tomorrow,” Signora adds lightly, settling back into her seat, “Vellaris.”

  As Cattleya passes me, my hand lifts—then stops, hovering just short of touching her.

  “I’d like a word, missy,” Signora says, her eyes locking onto mine.

  Ulric hesitates. We exchange a glance. His is a warning.

  I nod.

  They leave. The door closes.

  The quiet stretches, thin and expectant.

  “Such a shame,” Signora says idly as she rises. “All that work… and you just left it behind like that.”

  My breath stills.

  “…You’ve read it?”

  She smiles, slow and knowing. “Enough.”

  I don’t realize she’s moved closer until she’s already there.

  Heavy gloved hands settle on my shoulders—certain, familiar, like she’s always had the right. I freeze, pulse loud in my ears.

  “You chase a particular kind of knowledge,” she continues lightly. “The sort most people never bother to notice.” Her thumbs press, just enough to remind me she’s there. “That kind of curiosity is expensive.”

  A pause.

  “I could make it very easy for you,” she murmurs. “Access. Material. Time.” Her smile deepens. “More than you’d ever be allowed on your own.”

  I swallow.

  “And if the work isn’t what’s keeping you awake…”

  Her gaze drifts—deliberate—past me, toward the nearby door.

  “…I’m generous about other things too.”

  Silence stretches.

  At last, she releases me, stepping back as though nothing has passed between us.

  “Think about it,” Signora says pleasantly. “I take very good care of those who stay on my side.”

  She adjusts her gloves, already moving past me.

  “Especially the ones who don’t disappoint me.”

  She opens the door behind me. I don’t turn to look at her, but I can feel the glee in her presence.

  “Dinner will be served soon,” she adds lightly. “…and you’ll want to leave room for dessert.”

  The door closes.

  I let out the tension in a long breath, my shoulders slumping.

  How much does she know?