Master Valentin, Baron Deterikh, replied with a groan as he stepped into his parlor. “Rikeh, to the kitchen,” he mumbled wearily as he slumped towards the table. “Tea for three, bowls of stew, and whatever bread and cheese they can spare.” Mister Chelin filed in after him, with Miss Aura behind. “Taneh, heel. It’s going to be a long night.”

“Yes, master,” we replied as we both stood. My love brushed eir stubby paw against my arm, then took off at a dash for the kitchen. Eir golden-hued chains—a gift from the alchemist to complement my silver ones—rattled as ey shuffled rapidly out the door, tugging it closed behind em. I knelt beside the baron and, unbidden, took one of his hinds onto my knees to massage it as best as I could.

The lynx groaned and sagged against his high-backed chair. “Stars, that feels good.” He leaned down and tousled the fur between my ears. “That was the most brutal day in court I have ever had to endure.”

Mister Chelin, Deterikh’s new sergeant-at-arms, shifted forward on his seat and leaned his elbows against the table. “It could’ve been worse, I’m sure.”

“I’m not sure how,” my master retorted. “It seems half of Baris was in Erik’s camp, the other half supported Datsia, and the only common ground between them was disappointment in me. I think they’re all just holding their breath, waiting for me to make some gross misstep.”

“They weren’t holding it quietly, from what I heard,” the stocky young wolf chuckled. “At least none of them questioned your succession.”

“I don’t think any of them dared.” My master rubbed the bridge of his muzzle with one paw. “The reports of both of my predecessors’ deaths were too widespread, and I was one’s confidant and the other’s best friend. Iladin’s recital of Erik’s last words probably didn’t hurt either.”

“Neither did your accomplishments, don’t forget,” Deterikh’s sergeant-at-arms added. “You stopped a war and laid two heads of state to rest on the same day; that’s no simple feat.” Then Mister Chelin grinned, his ears perking. “At least Inika wasn’t here to challenge every statement you made.”

Miss Aura cackled at that from one of the couches along the wall, her tail hooking in amusement behind her. “No doubt she’ll be busy making plenty of her own mistakes at Tomas’ court.”

“Matska’s grace, Inika’s making a better showing there than I did here.” My master hissed against clenched teeth as I kneaded the ball of his hind. “She’s no Dion, but hopefully that will be worth a few coin in her favor. With luck, Baron Jazinsk will find her directness refreshing.” He tugged his hind out of my lap, then replaced it with the other, letting out a fresh groan of discomfort as I worked the tension out of his weary pads.

Deterikh’s court alchemist picked at the tattered hem of her blouse. “Speaking of Baron Jazinsk, do we know for sure that he’s agreed to end the war?”

“Not for sure, but I think we can assume so.” The young sergeant added. “The reports from the front are that the Jazinsks have pulled their forces back to just outside Krolik’s walls, same as we have. We know Inika’s made it inside, and we received confirmation that they turned back the ambush from their southern approach.”

That drew a general sigh of relief from around the room. “Any word of Dion?” Miss Aura asked, her tail lashing. “Have they caught the right bastard yet?”

My master shook his head. “No word on that, no. I think if they’d caught him, they’d have said, so I have to assume they’re still looking. Hopefully when they send their next envoy, he’ll come bearing that snake’s head on the end of his spear.”

“So who did you have Inika ask them to send?” Miss Aura asked, her gaze suddenly on the painting over my master’s shoulder.

My master shifted uncomfortably in his seat, then pulled his hind out of my lap. “Justik, son of Jedrik. I told you that before.” My heart leaped into my throat at the name, and my chest suddenly felt tight, but my master just put a paw on the back of my head and brushed my fur with his fingers. “Something the matter, pet?”

I bit my lip. “No, master.” The word was a lie, the sudden flush of embarrassment making the ache between my legs throb.

A soft thump at the door interrupted his words. Instead of further teasing, he merely hooked his thumb towards the door. “Go open that.”

I shifted awkwardly and rose to my hinds. “Yes, master.” I dashed over to the door and, twisting the knob in both paws, opened it to admit Rikeh, a wooden tray balanced across eir paws, loaded with bowls and a tea service. Eir chains rustled against the ground as ey walked slowly to the table to lay down eir burden. Eir order fulfilled, ey knelt where I had been moments before, and I took my position beside em.

For several seconds, no-one spoke. My master poured tea, Mister Chelin dug into his stew, Miss Aura joined them at the table, and my love and I shared the warmth of each other’s body. I heard the gentle shift of eir chains, felt the touch of eir stubby paw against my knee, and the emptiness between my legs flared, begging to be filled. I returned the touch, and a quiet whimper escaped Rikeh’s muzzle, eir ears folding back against eir head. I giggled, and ey turned, briefly pressing eir lips to mine.

“Down, both of you,” Master Valentin reprimanded, a smile on his muzzle. “There’ll be time enough for that later.”

“Oh, let them play,” Miss Aura chided, holding her mug in both paws. “This is all people-talk. You don’t even need them in here for this.”

My master grinned and lightly stroked Rikeh’s ears. “No, I don’t, but… truth be told, I’ve gotten used to their involvement. I need every honest voice I can find to warn me when I’m about to do something rash, and I sent one of my best advisors to Jazinsk to act as my voice there. I see no reason to turn down help where it’s available, even if sometimes I have to order them not to speak.” His eyes caught mine in a pointed stare, and I ducked my head, my ears growing warm under the sudden attention.

“Fair enough, I suppose,” Mister Chelin conceded. “It’s not like you’re bringing them to court with you. Will you really want them in the room when the envoy is here, though? Isn’t that just begging for trouble?”

“Probably,” my master admitted. “But he already knows about Taneh. I want him to see ey’s being well-treated. I can’t think of a faster way to build confidence in us. That’s why I asked for him in the first place.”

“It’s not Taneh’s presence that worries me,” the wolf grumbled as he tapped a claw against the patch of white on Rikeh’s shoulder. “Those markings are far too similar to be coincidence; they even look alike, in the muzzle and such. That’s going to raise questions.”

“What could he possibly ask that could be a problem?” Miss Aura asked as she filled her mug. “He won’t have any reason to suspect the truth.”

“He won’t have to,” the young sergeant countered, tapping against the table. “He knows what happened to Taneh, and even if he accepts that ey wanted it, that doubt has to linger. All he has to do is ask why they look so similar. That would be reason enough to suspect something, even if it’s not the truth.”

Rikeh and I exchanged glances, but Master Valentin leaned forward and put a paw on my love’s shoulder. “Listen, Chelin. If he asks outright, we tell him. If he’s smart enough to piece together the truth, then keeping it from him will hurt us in the long term. So far, no one has questioned Rikeh’s presence or history, and I don’t see that changing. That’s the way of slaves; they’re mostly beneath people’s attention.”

“And if he doesn’t ask directly, the answer is simple,” The alchemist added with a flick of her tailtip. “The Slaver’s Guild has a branch in Baris as well as Krolik, and I chanced upon a close fit. I wanted a gift to offer at the inauguration, and, well….” Her grin widened as she tugged at the hem of her blouse. “Baron Deterikh seemed so pleased with Taneh, I thought he should have a matched set.”

The words sent a spasm of warmth up my spine, and from Rikeh’s muffled whimper against my shoulder I could tell it had done the same to em. I shifted closer to my love and took eir paws in mine, then nuzzled into the other rabbit’s velvety black fur. I might have been nothing more than a slave, but it didn’t matter. There was nothing more I could want.

  KRT  

Behind me, I could hear the sounds of the sages’ preparations, but they seemed dim and distant. Chalk scratched against the dais around me, and salts flowed in a circle around it. The air grew thick with the scent of rain and woodsmoke. I could hear, if I focused, Miss Aura and Mister Iladin discussing sigils and stars, influences and intentions. I caught my name, once or twice, or perhaps I just remembered it. Taneh. It was a pretty name, strong but yielding. What will yours be, pet? I wondered, as I stroked the young wolf’s ears.

Miss Aura’s voice came to me from miles away. “Pet, how is he? And yourself?”

“Quiet, ma’am,” I replied, letting the words fall gently out of my muzzle. “Relaxed, a little scared.”

“Just a little?” The question was gentle. “Not a lot?”

“No, ma’am,” I assured. “I’m well-trained and doing as I’m told.” I lowered my gaze, then rested a paw over my pet’s chest. “He’s frightened, mostly of the pain.”

Mister Valentin’s voice was more insistent, but no less removed. “Tell him he won’t hurt much more.” Then, more quietly, in a voice I don’t think I was meant to hear, he added, “I’m still not sure what you’re planning.”

“I’m correcting two mistakes tonight,” the sage replied just as softly. “I haven’t time to explain the rest. Trust that everyone should be happier with the outcome.”

After that, for a time, there were only the sounds of preparation and my own gentle murmurs, keeping my pet relaxed. He turned his head and gently nuzzled at my leg, whimpering softly, and I held one of his paws between both of mine. Then, finally, Miss Aura called out to me again. “Taneh, do you remember when we stepped outside the Great Work together? How the skeins supported us when the ground gave way?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I replied, closing my eyes. As she mentioned it, I could easily imagine the glowing lines of light beneath us, feel the sway and tip of the rays bowing slightly beneath our weight. I shifted faintly to compensate, adjusting my knees, which grew a muffled grunt from my pet’s muzzle.

Far behind me, the sage chuckled. “Never mind, pet. You’re doing as you’re told, and doing very well.” Hindfalls whispered against stone. “When the circle closes, be ready to catch yourself. Do you understand?”

I drew in a deep breath, then let it out and nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

Somewhere far behind me, a final chalk-line scratched into place, a few grains of salt poured across them, and the witchlights faded into twilight. “From the furthest star to the tiniest speck, all things are connected in the Great Work.” Miss Aura’s voice echoed faintly, her voice all around me. “The tapestry stretches in all directions, from the heavens to the earth, binding all things together. Past and future, above and below. Here, within the unbroken circle, we separate off a small piece of the Work, that we may weave changes into it.”

The air around me hummed with potential as Miss Aura spoke. I opened my eyes, but the glowing lines remained, shining up from below. It took me only a moment to find my balance, the shining skeins more than enough to support my weight. My pet startled when the world began to fade, but I lay my paws on his shoulders and chanced a whisper. “Easy, pet.” I nuzzled between his ears, and lay still again with only a whimper. Once we both had our balance, I lifted my head. “Yes.”

“Beyond the Great Work, cause need not precede effect, and before may follow after,” the sage’s voice continued. Beyond the circle, all had become darkness; only her words breached the barrier. “In this place, we may make changes, and not fear the consequences. Water may pour up to a vessel, and fire may burn without consuming fuel. Outside the Great Work, we may pull the weapon from the wound, and no blood shall flow.”

My stomach clenched at the words, but the order was clear. Gingerly, I pressed my paws together on either side of the broken wooden shaft, then gradually pulled upwards. My pet arched his back, but then I felt something give way, and the blade slid free, slick with blood. Light shone up from the hole left in his chest, lit by the strands supporting us over the abyss. I resisted the urge to peer into the opening; I was afraid of what I might see inside.

“Good pet,” Miss Aura assured me, and my own breathing eased slightly. “You’re doing as you’re told, and doing it well. The hole below marks a point of egress, a space through which the unneeded may leave. The hole above marks a point of ingress, a space through which the needed may enter. Salts may separate, chalk may mark and guide, but it is the will that directs and commands. Let us trace a circle around this hole with the tool that created it, to bless it and keep it pure.”

Clumsily, I drew the metal spear tip through my pet’s fur, in a rough circle around the wound. It was far from precise, but I was doing as I was told. Once marked, the sage’s voice resumed as if she had never stopped. “So blessed, we may separate the unnecessary from the desirable, the wheat from the chaff. Ruby dust for Oshka. Thistle for purity, elderberry to consecrate. Clover and clove, basil and bay. Within the circle, two threads bind incompletely, brought together by arrogance and fear, wolf and rabbit conjoined in a single skein. Let us lay paws on this knot, and with this touch untie. The hole below marks a point of egress, through which Wilik’s thread may leave.”

As my paws came to rest on either side of my pet’s injury, it felt as though they were passing within, as though the flesh weren’t quite solid. As a test, I gingerly pressed down against his pelt, and I something inside gave way, as a waterskin breaking. The light rising through the wound began to sputter as something smelling of fresh-cooked stew poured out below, between the strands of light and down into the darkness. As I watched, his tail began to recede, and his ears grew longer in equal measure. His muzzle shrank to a rounded curve, and his hinds swelled like mine. Melka, I realized. He always was his mother’s son.

“With Wilik’s gift removed, the knot remains incomplete, a single thread tied to naught.” Suddenly the sage’s voice was a whisper all around, in my ear but nowhere to be seen. “Sapphire dust for Matska. Orange for marriage, peony for love. Heather and honeysuckle, mandrake and mistletoe. Within the circle, two threads bind completely, brought together by love and compassion. Let us lay paws across these threads, and with this touch unite. The hole above marks a point of ingress, through which Jedrik’s thread may enter.”

Lifting one paw from my pet’s chest, I placed it upon my own, and pain the likes of which I had never felt shot through me, as if I had been stabbed through the gut with a spear. I felt something move within me, and then an arc of lightning jumped between us. My pet spasmed once against me, then again, his motions echoed by my own. The blood rushed from my head, and my world swam around me. I swayed and stumbled, but then his paws were at my sides, holding me steady. I looked down, and he smiled back, his golden eyes alight. At his shoulder and hip, patches of white fur stood out from the black, no doubt matched by one on the back of his leg.

“With Jedrik’s gift added, the knot becomes whole, two threads brought together by love and compassion.” Miss Aura’s voice returned to normal, though still at a great distance. “What remains is to mold the second as the first, to complete the pairing. Anise to bless, cinnamon to heat and stoke. Peppermint, motherwort, and clove. Let us wipe away the inner circle and match touch for touch, gift for gift.”

I wiped my paw across the circle I’d traced, and the hole in his chest went with the rest of the marks. The other rabbit below me let out a gasp, then a full-throated moan as the heat within him swelled. Cautiously, I slid back along the strands of light to let him lay flat, then took one of his paws in mine. It took only a little effort to take each of his claws between my stubs and work them back into the ends of his fingers. A bit more, and his fingers lay folded flat as mine were. The thumb was hardest to mold away, but when that was done, his paw was the mirror of mine, a thought that stoked my own inner fire. His other paw went quickly, but there was more to do.

Working my knees to either side of his head took time, but soon his muzzle was just below my nethers. “Lick,” I whispered into the darkness. “Learn.” Then I lay across his chest, so that his groin was just beneath me. As he pressed his lips to mine in a most intimate kiss, I took his sheath in my paws. Guided by his tongue, I cautiously molded flesh to match the sensations I felt. The heat within me became a flame as ey pleasured me, fueled by eir fire and my own efforts.

Soon that ache burned too brightly, and I plunged my muzzle into eir newly-molded sex, hoping to slake my burning need in eir depths. I rubbed the opening to eir tunnel gingerly with one stubby digit, squirming back against eir paw in return. Every lick echoed against my body, every shudder mirrored in my own. I traced eir nethers with my tongue, carefully avoiding that sensitive button as long as I could, until my need drove me to caress it directly, drawing a howl from my lips. I held back as long as I could, but my tongue was too insistent, my need too demanding. My release was a lightning strike that ran from the tips of my newly-lengthened ears to the base of my shortened tail, my tunnel clenching tightly as if to try to hold the other within me until the stars ran cold. “Yes,” we whispered in unison, when voice finally returned to us.

Miss Aura’s chuckle probably wasn’t part of the ritual. “You’re doing what you’re told, and doing it well. As all things have symbols to give them meaning, so is the name the symbol of self. The self that entered the circle is not the self that leaves, and so the name must change to match. Wormwood and violet, with licorice root to seal. Outside the Great Work, we may separate a skein to make changes to it. To weave those changes back within the larger pattern, we carefully part the circle. Salts divided, chalk split.” I heard the thunk of wood against stone, and then the scrape of one of the lines being split. “Wake up, Taneh.”

I startled at the name, my name, and fell onto my side with a groan, thudding against the solid wooden dais. The first rays of sun were just streaming in through the windows, making the witchlights seem dim by comparison. Every muscle in my back and legs felt stiff, and my paws ached. “Ma’am,” I groaned.

A whimper to my right made me turn my head, and my heart jumped in my chest. Staring at the rabbit that lay beside me felt akin to gazing into a mirror. Eir fur was black where mine was white, white to my black, but the patches across shoulder and hip were an eerie match. Eir arms ended in an animal’s paws, and between eir legs was only a need to be filled. Ey lifted eir head with a groan, pressing eir paws to eir eyes. “I’m exhausted.”

“Quiet, pet,” Miss Aura corrected as she shuffled over. “Any pain, at least?”

Ey paused, biting eir lip. One paw went to eir chest in surprise, brushing against where the spear had been. Of the broken weapon itself or the wound, there was no sign. “No, ma’am… just tired.”

The grin that split the sage’s muzzle could have outshone the sun itself. “Good. Very good,” she said as she wiped at her eyes. “If anything ever hurts, ever, you get your master to come tell me, do you understand?”

The other rabbit ducked eir head sheepishly, squirming. Ey glanced to me and blushed; eir eyes were a deep and vivid gold. “It’s not pain, exactly, ma’am.”

Miss Aura laughed, her tail hooking behind her in amusement. “I think you’ll be fine. Baron? You can claim your pets.”

“Hrr?” Half-asleep on the floor just beyond the circle, Mister… Master Valentin’s eyes fluttered, then snapped open as understanding dawned. “Oh! Right.” He sat up and stretched, then pushed himself from the floor with a groan. “Taneh, heel.” Then his eyes turned to the other rabbit, and the world held its breath. “Um….”

“Yes, master.” I struggled to my hinds, then knelt with a wince slightly behind and to the left of Baron Deterikh. The other rabbit watched wordlessly as I moved, then up to the baron’s face. Eir eyes went wide with longing and confusion, but before ey could speak, I took a risk and gestured towards the space to my right, at the lynx’s other side. “Rikeh, heel.”

At the mention of eir new name, ey sagged against the ground in relief. When ey lifted eir face, the smile on eir muzzle shone brighter than the coming dawn. “Coming, master,” ey whispered, then rose and took eir place beside me.

Master Valentin looked down at the both of us, and a weary smile broke out on his muzzle. “Both of you, rise follow. I have a few announcements to make and a war to stop.”

Em, I thought over the sudden rush of boots, but I didn’t say it. I was doing what I was told, and doing it very well. I wasn’t afraid. I wasn’t sad. I wasn’t even angry. I had every reason to hate Miss Datsia for what she had done to Erik, Miss Aura for what she had done to me. All I could feel was a dim relief that everything would soon be resolved. I dropped to my knees beside my master and pet, then gingerly placed my body over his to shield it. His bloody jacket was warm against my stomach, but cooling rapidly, and his fur was already growing chill. His chest still moved, and he trembled, but I could tell it wouldn’t be long. Already I could see the anger of his wound fading, the pain passing into hollow numbness.

The guards from all around the room had perhaps made it halfway to the dais when a thunderclap blew the main doors off their hinges. Shards of wood flew into the room and smoke poured in in their wake. I cringed reflexively against the sound and snapped my ears back against my head, but my skull still rang with the force of the blast. The guards all stopped in their rush and turned, spears at the ready to protect them against whatever dragon or demon had just been summoned into their midst.

Out of the smoke stepped Miss Aura, clutching a lit torch in one paw and a small sachet in the other. Her eyes burned and her tail lashed madly behind her. Miss Inika stood close behind her, her spear at the ready to guard the sage. Mister Iladin followed behind, a heavy pack on his back. “I am Inika, daughter of Eskaya,” the vole pronounced, her voice muffled by the ringing in my ears. “With the rightful heir and his sergeant incapacitated, I am assuming temporary regency of Barony Deterikh.”

A few of the soldiers turned to charge the small group, but Miss Aura shook the pouch in front of her, sending up a cloud of powder into the air, and words flew from her muzzle in a tongue that seared my ears to hear. Her voice peaked in a shout, and then she thrust her torch into the dust, sending a gout of flame shot out from her outstretched arm towards the guards. The two closest to her didn’t have time to scream before they were burned alive, their bodies collapsing to ash and scorched bone. The third, though, had only his arms caught in the sudden inferno. He shrieked and dropped to his knees, desperately trying to put himself out, his frantic flailing only spreading the flames across his body.

The stink of charred fur and flesh filled the room, and one of the other guards dropped to his knees, retching at the stench. Miss Inika, however, only wrinkled her nose as she marched toward the dais, the two sages close behind her. “Anyone wanting to challenge my authority can go through Aura to do it.” No-one else moved, and she hollered back towards the entryway, “Secure!” Erik’s loyalists rushed into the room, quickly stripping the last of Datsia’s guard of their weapons.

In the midst of the chaos, Miss Inika casually pointed the tip of her spear towards the back of the hall. “Valentin’s that way, sleeping in a washtub.” Mister Iladin bowed and then, escorted by a trio of Miss Inika’s supporters, shuffled back to recover the sergeant. The vole’s attention, though, had already returned to the two of us beside Miss Datsia’s body. Her muzzle quirked into a gentle frown, and she knelt next to us. “Poor th—” She froze mid-word, then snapped her head upright. “Aura! They’re still alive! Both of them!”

The sage was at my side before I could blink, her torch discarded, her fingers gripping my shoulder. “Taneh, up.” Her voice shook worse than her paw. “Off the baron. Let me…. Great Family.” She delicately caressed my pet’s shoulder as if she were stroking an eggshell. “Erik?”

“Aura?” Erik’s voice was a whimper, barely audible even at this closeness. “I’m sorry. She… she beat me.”

“Hush, boy,” the sage soothed. “Save your breath.” She spied the shard of metal jutting from his back, and her tail collapsed to the ground behind her. “I need to turn you to inspect the wound. I won’t lie: this’ll hurt.” He nodded, and she shifted backwards. “Taneh, his shoulders. Inika, legs. On three.” We scrambled around, then eased him onto his back, but not without drawing a choking gasp out of the young baron. We rested his head in my lap, his upper back balanced on my spread knees to keep the tip from hitting the floor.

When she saw jagged end of the broken spear jutting from Erik’s chest, Miss Aura’s ears went flat against her head and the blood drained from her face. “Dust.” The her eyes narrowed as she lifted her gaze to mine, her muzzle tightening to a thin line. “Did she suffer, at least?”

I shrugged as best as I could without moving. “I don’t know, ma’am. I emptied the vessel. She begged, at least.”

The sage nodded tightly, tail lashing once. “It’ll have to do.” Then her attention went back to Erik, and her manner softened instantly. She cupped one paw gently against the side of his cheek. “Relax, boy,” she murmured softly. “I’ll try to make you comfortable.”

Erik coughed, paws still clutching at the wooden shaft embedded in his gut. “I hurt… want to lie down.”

Miss Aura gave the barest shake of her head. “That might dislodge the spear. You’ll bleed out.”

“Don’t care,” Erik said, panting. “Going to die… anyway.”

The kitchen door banged, and two pairs of hindfalls stumbled towards up. A shadow fell across us, and then Mister Valentin knelt next to Miss Aura. “Inika, find Chelin. Go spread the news of Datsia’s death.” He was silent as his lieutenant left, then lowered his head to survey the damage. “I’m sorry,” he finally said. “It should be me down there.”

Erik shook his head, grimacing at the motion. “Had to… be me.” He bit down hard against a spasm of pain. “Succession.”

“Don’t talk,” The sergeant admonished gently. He cautiously pried one of Erik’s paws off of the spear and held it in both of his. “Listen, Erik, you’re going to be fine. Aura and Iladin will take care of this.”

“Lying again.” Erik hissed around gritted teeth. “One thing… Valentin. Your oath. The barony.”

Mister Valentin shook his head emphatically. “You’re not dead yet, and you’re not giving up on me.”

Mister Iladin squatted to Miss Aura’s other side and leaned in close to peer at the wound. He bit his lip, then sat back on his heels and shook his head. “He’s lost so much blood, and the damage is extensive.”

“Six generations… founder’s blood.” Erik’s voice was growing softer with every breath. “My jacket… soaked with it.”

I gently stroked a paw down Erik’s cheek. “You’re still talking, pet,” I chided as gently as I could. “Relax and let the people handle this.”

Erik’s eyes went wide, and then a gentle smile spread on his muzzle. “Yes, master.” Then he drew in as deep a breath he could manage and went limp in my arms.

I waited for a few seconds, then narrowed my eyes at Miss Aura. “What can you do?”

Miss Aura’s gaze held mine, and then she snapped her head down to Erik. She began tracing symbols in the air before her, muttering to herself, and then nodded sharply. “It’s worth the risk.” She turned to Mister Valentin and drew in a deep breath. “Do you trust me?”

“What?” The lynx almost bellowed the word. Then he stopped and sighed. “I don’t have much choice, do I?”

“Not really,” the sage confessed. “Iladin, chalks and salt, ruby dust and sapphire. The contents of your herbal racks, and fast.” Mister Iladin rose, then rushed from the hall faster than I had ever seen him move before. “The barony will soon be yours, Valentin. Be gentle with it.”

Mister Valentin’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you said you could save him!”

“I can’t save Erik, Baron,” Miss Aura corrected. “If Iladin hurries, though, I may still be able to do something.” She turned back to me, bobbing her head. “Little light?”

I smiled and let the warm heaviness spread through me once more. “I am ready.”

Miss Aura smiled back. “Of course you are. I’ll need your help as well.”

“Inika, take the rear,” Mister Valentin said as he stepped across the threshold. “I’m on point. Erik, keep one paw on Taneh. Taneh, keep your chains off the ground. The larder will have a minimal guard, the kitchen a few more. Inika, you said Datsia’s forces hold the main hall, yes?”

The vole crisply nodded, stepping to the side to let Erik and I step past. “Mostly. Erik’s supporters have the run of the keep aside from those, and Datsia’d have to fight for every step past those two rooms, but she’s got enough to keep everyone else out.”

“Ram the barricades, perhaps?” My master fumbled with his mace as he guided me forward. “Can they force their way past the guards?”

Mister Valentin shook his head as he advanced. “They could, but Datsia controls the walls to the keep and half the town beyond. Without a supply line, every resource is precious; that includes paws as well as arms.”

Miss Inika chewed on her lip, her thin tail swirling nervously behind her. “We could play this like a siege; they’ll have to sleep in shifts, and that will weaken their defenses.”

“No good,” the lynx countered. “Datsia can play the same game writ large, and they’ve got access to all of Baris’ larders. And there’s Dion and Krolik at stake. They can wait; we can’t.”

The vole folded her arms, her spear pressed against her chest. “So, we’re just charging into Datsia’s den, then?”

The sergeant shrugged. “If you have a better plan, I haven’t heard it.”

“Dust,” Miss Inika spat. “She’s not going to just let you walk into the main hall, you know.”

My master chuckled quietly as he walked. “She hasn’t stopped us.”

Miss Inika was silent for a moment, then sighed. “That’s because I haven’t tried to stop you yet.”

Three pairs of ears fell flat at those words, and we all stopped in our tracks. Slowly, Mister Valentin turned, his eyes narrowed. His knuckles went white as he clenched his spear. “Say that again.”

The vole fell back a step and brought her spear down to a ready position. “My job was to find you, find out your plans, and stop you if you came in through the scullery.”

A low growl rumbled in Mister Valentin’s throat as he bore down on his student. “You’re the trap.”

Miss Inika retreated a step for each of the Deterikh sergeant’s. “I tried to tell you.”

My master followed a pace behind Mister Valentin, his mace held before him as he had at the end of the last fight. “What did she offer you? Was Chelin’s help a lie as well?”

“His job,” the vole said, bobbing her head towards the Deterikh sergeant. “And no, he refused to play her games. Datsia left him his title as a show of good faith, but he hasn’t been back inside the inner wall since.”

Mister Valentin stopped and lowered the point of his spear. “So, do you intend to sell us out to her?”

Miss Inika smiled faintly. “Would I have told you if I did?” She lowered her spear, putting her point to the ground. “You needed to hear it from me. My help wasn’t a lie.”

“So how can we trust you now?” My master’s voice rose in a whine. “You tell us you’re working for Datsia, and now you’re asking us to act like we don’t know that!”

The lynx put his paw on my master’s shoulder. “Listen, Erik. The point is that by telling us, she’s trying to prove she’s not.” He turned back to his student. “On your spear, Inika.”

The soldier lifted her weapon and balanced its shaft across her paws. “By the Great Family, I pledge fealty to Erik, son of Wilik, rightful baron of Deterikh.” She tilted her head the side, her own ears folding back. “Convinced yet?”

My master sighed and hung his mace back on his belt. His tail hung low and flat behind him. “You could’ve started with the oath and saved us all a lot of heartache.”

Miss Inika lowered her spear and stepped forward again. “If I’d started with the oath, the guards on the wall would’ve shot all of us.” She looked to her mentor and extended a paw. “I’m sorry if I made you doubt. Consider it repayment for trying to tell me Taneh was dead.”

That caught my master’s attention; his ears shot upright and his head snapped to Mister Valentin. “Dead?”

Mister Valentin clasped arms with his student. “Accepted and offered in return. We’re all going to have to trust each other from this point.” He turned to my master and waved away the concern with his free paw. “It’s a long story, best told after we’re—” His words trailed off into a sudden yawn. “Excuse me, the tension is getting to me. After we’re done with this.”

My master shrugged in return, and Mister Valentin turned back to lead us deeper into the kitchen, but he made only a dozen steps before he stopped and audibly yawned again, leaning against his spear with one paw on the wall to steady himself. “I don’t know what’s wrong, but I’m suddenly exhausted.”

Miss Inika stepped up behind me, putting a paw on my shoulder. “Valentin?”

The Deterikh sergeant shook his head, trying to wave away the concerns, but on his next step, he stumbled and staggered forward, thumping into a wooden washbasin with a deep echo that rumbled down the length of the scullery. He slumped to his knees, his spear clattering off the ground as he dropped. “Suddenly… sleepy,” he mumbled, before collapsing to the ground in a heap.

My master was on his knees beside Mister Valentin in an instant, Miss Inika next to him, as they tried to rouse the fallen sergeant. “Valentin!” The word was a hiss, as loud as he dared this close to the kitchen and Miss Datsia’s guard. “Get up!” He shook the sergeant’s shoulder, then lifted his head and slapped him a few times, but the lynx stayed stubbornly asleep, his muzzle hanging half-open, his snore a deafening rumble in the otherwise still air.

“He’s out cold,” Miss Inika griped. “What could’ve done that to him?”

My master groaned and thumped his head against the washbasin. “Oh, dust. The potion!” He turned to Miss Inika. “Aura gave us both a potion to help us fight; it’s how he smashed that spear with a single hit. She did say it would leave us weak when it wore off; I guess his just did.” He fumbled inside his jacket and extracted two vials. He stared at the silver one for some time, then cracked the seal on the pewter one and poured it into his muzzle.

Miss Inika wrinkled her nose at the scent. “Are you sure that’s safe?”

My master’s only response was to gag once as the potion hit his tongue, but to his credit, he swallowed every drop and licked the rim before setting down the vial. “No choice, it seems.” He turned to face the way we entered, lost in thought for several moments. “What happens to you if you leave here alone? Will you be safe?”

The vole considered, then shrugged. “Any of ours, they’ll be glad to see I’m alive. Any of Datsia’s, they’ll assume I finished the job. I’d say so.”

He rose and nudged the sleeping sergeant with his hind. “Will he be safe here?”

“He should be.” Miss Inika sounded less sure of herself on that one. “Someone who sees me leaving might send a patrol to collect the bodies, but watching the scullery was my job.”

“Good.” My master pointed out towards the back of Deterikh Keep. “We’ll leave him here, then. Take your leave, head back inside, and take up position outside the main hall. Send a small group to Iladin’s and have them standing ready to escort the sage and Aura back here. Pull every spare body you can to the great door and be ready.”

Miss Inika saluted, then took a step towards the door, then stopped and looked back. “For what?”

My master smiled wearily, but the look didn’t reach his eyes; they were cold and hard, just empty blue orbs. “You’ll know it when you hear it.”

The vole leaned forward, peering at my master intently, her eyes glinting. “Erik, what are you planning?”

Baron Deterikh retrieved his fallen sergeant’s spear and cracked the seal on the silver vial. Its contents oozed over the steel tip, leaving an unhealthy brownish-green residue that stank of mold and apples. When the metal had all but vanished under the glistening smturned to face the doorway to the kitchen. “I’m going to end this, the only way I can.”

Pausing at the end of a row of tightly-packed shops, the sergeant-at-arms motioned for us to stay still, then crept forward and craned his head around the corner, peering towards the inner gate. I quietly counted my breaths as I waited for him to return, expecting with each to hear the sudden twang and whistle once more, to see Mister Valentin’s body suddenly jerk and then fall, to catch that sudden whiff of copper and shame as he collapsed to the ground. A paw fell upon my shoulder just after seven, a second cupping my muzzle to silence me before I could shout.

“Four I can see,” Mister Valentin hissed, his ears flat against his head. “Two before the guardhouse, two on the walls with bows. They’re holding the gate.” He flicked his head over his shoulder, towards the commotion just within the wall. “Past them, we head through the stables, back to the scullery, and in through the slaves’ entrance.”

“How do we get past them, though?” my master whispered back, his voice no louder but filled with tension. He let go of my face and hefted his spear. “I could take one, maybe.”

The sergeant shook his head as he released me as well. “Spears to the archers, then close with the mace. One good throw, we drop both, and then its two-on-two with the element of surprise.”

My master’s ears remained flat and a scowl spread across his muzzle. “We should’ve brought the crossbows.”

That drew a dark chuckle out of the lynx. “Then I’d have had more to fear than the archers on the walls.” He held out a paw to forestall my master’s protest. “Your eye is sound, but you’re no sureshot.”

My owner’s scowl remained unabated, and his tail brushed behind him. “They’ll call for reinforcements.”

Mister Valentin shrugged. “We have to take that chance. It’s this or climb over, and then we’re targets for every archer on the wall. Koskhi’s luck, we’ll have cover for most of the way there.”

“But….” My master’s voice trailed off into a sigh as he hefted his spear in his paws. “What if I know them?”

Mister Valentin’s ears splayed, and his muzzle set into a tight line. “Then you kill people you know. Deterikh blood has already been shed, and longer we take to deal with Datsia, the more will needlessly flow. I don’t like it, but I don’t see an alternative.”

“At least let me talk to them!” My master hissed insistently, the tip of his spear shaking. “I can’t just—”

“You can, and you will,” I interjected, putting a paw on my owner’s shoulder. “You need to be Baron Deterikh. Saving these lives doesn’t save the most lives.”

Baron Deterikh’s protest died in his throat. He shook his head and hefted his spear onto his shoulder. “Let’s get on with it.”

The sergeant-at-arms matched his baron’s grim frown. “On three.” He motioned us up to the mouth of the alleyway and held up one paw, three fingers extended. Two. One. At the shake of his clenched fist, both Mister Valentin and my master dashed out from between the buildings, rearing back with spears aimed high. Both let fly, then sprinted towards the gate, maces drawn and raised.

The guards at the gate turned at the commotion, their own spears at the ready. “Arms to the inner—” The cry for help cut short as one of the archers fell from the wall, crashing onto the guardhouse with a spear through his gut. The other drew back to fire, but before he could my master had closed the distance with Mister Valentin close behind. One guard lashed out, thrusting for the lynx’s chest. Mister Valentin snapped his mace to block and the shaft of the spear shattered, splinters flying. “Erik! Close!”

While the guard stumbled backwards from the force of the blow, his companion stepped into the gap, blocking my master’s advance. “Cover!” He held his spear high but ready, its tip tracking the young wolf’s steps. “We need cover!”

“I’ve got y—” The other archer’s voice jerked into a scream and his bow clattered against the ground as he fell to one knee.

“Valentin?” A female voice shouted over the wall. “Sergeant!”

At the name, both Mister Valentin’s ears shot upright. “Inika!”

“Sit tight!” came the fast reply. “Reinforcements!” Through the gate, I could see a vole in a loose chain shirt and leather leggings, a spear in her paws and another on her back. Mister Andor stood beside her, gripping his mace in his paws as if his life depended on it.

The second guard had drawn his mace, but rather than advance, he turned to face the interior, shifting nervously. Mister Valentin rolled the mace in his paw as he eased to the side of the guardhouse. “You’re outnumbered and outmaneuvered!” he shouted to the guards at the gate. “Stand down and you’ll get a fair hearing!”

“Stand your ground!” the larger of the two guards bellowed. “Hold the gate!”

“Sir, that’s—” The second guard’s protest vanished into a whirlwind. The exchange took only a few seconds, but that was all it needed. Miss Inika sharply drove her spearpoint into the ground at the younger one’s hinds, then reached for her belt. The guard stepped forward to respond, but the vole pivoted her spear on its point and twisted aside his blow. Mister Andor jumped at the sudden opening, slamming his mace two-pawed into the smaller guard’s shoulder with a liquid crack that sent him sprawling. The larger guard fell back to try to cover his companion, and Mister Valentin and my master charged. The sergeant swung again, but his mace slid harmlessly along the shaft of the guard’s spear as he turned the blow. That left my master room to strike, and his mace pounded into the back of the guard’s head with a crunch of bone.

After the burst of conflict, the stillness seemed unnatural. I dashed over to my master’s side and put a paw on his shoulder; his face was a mask, his eyes empty as he stared down at the fallen guard at his feet. His chest heaved, and two damp patches spread on his cheeks as he viewed the aftermath of his work.

“Nice blow,” Miss Inika called as she worked the tip of her spear free of the ground. “First kill?”

“Yes.” The word fell from my master’s lips like an apology.

The vole nodded and approached, then studied the body. “It was clean, at least. He probably didn’t hurt long.”

“Inika, later.” Mister Valentin’s tone offered no room for negotiation. “Everyone, to the stables. Have you seen Chelin?”

The Deterikh soldier shook her head as she rose and followed. “No, sir. Andor woke me about two minutes before the keep became a battlefield.”

The sergeant grimaced. “So, neither best nor worse. Andor, go find Chelin and meet us at the baron’s parlor.” The young wolf saluted again, then dashed back towards the gate. “What’s the situation inside?”

Miss Inika shook her head. “Most of the house is loyal to Erik, but Datsia controls the walls and what support she has inside is well-groomed. They’re holding the main hall and the kitchen.”

Mister Valentin pointed towards the end of the stables, where the walls touched the back of the house. “What about the scullery?”

The vole shrugged again. “Datsia knows it’s there; she’s probably reinforced it inside.”

The lynx sighed and pinched the bridge of his muzzle. “It’s still that or fight our way across the grounds and then for every inch of floor.”

Miss Inika frowned and folded her arms. “Sir, beg pardon, but if you charge the scullery, you’re a bigger idiot than Erik was for charging the Jazinski line.” She looked to the baron. “No offense.”

My master shrugged. “None taken,” he said woodenly. “It was a fool’s gambit. I was—”

“Distracting us from the present,” the sergeant interrupted. “Why an idiot?”

Miss Inika waved her arm towards the scullery. “She’s probably expecting you to do something that obvious.”

Mister Valentin’s eyes went wide and a smile burst out on his muzzle. “Then it’s perfect.”

The vole blinked and actually took a step backwards at the sudden look of madness on Mister Valentin’s muzzle. “What?”

“Walking into her trap.” Mister Valentin turned and began to jog through the stables. “It’s the perfect plan.”

My master’s ears went flat, but he did his best to keep pace. “You’re starting to sound like Aura.”

The sergeant didn’t even drop pace. “Even better!”

Miss Inika scrambled after us to keep even. “Valentin, stop and explain yourself. How could deliberately playing into Datsia’s control possibly be a good idea?”

Suddenly, the Deterikh sergeant halted in his stride and spun to face the rest of us. causing my master and Miss Inika both to stumble into each other. “You asked me to stop. I stopped. You almost ran into me anyway.”

Miss Inika looked at my master, who shrugged in response. “I don’t think either of us actually expected you to stop.”

Mister Valentin’s green eyes flashed above his suddenly feral grin. “She’s not actually expecting us to spring the trap. She’s expecting us to see it, assume it’s trapped, and ignore it.” He pointed back towards the slaves’ entrance to the keep. “It’s like Aura was saying all along: Datsia bluffs, every time. This time, we’re going to call that bluff.”

“I haven’t time to explain,” the sage snapped back. “Taneh, air to purify, fire to soften, water to heal. Can you remember that?”

My ears flattened as the weight of obligation hit my shoulders, but I bowed my head in response. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Aura, explain,” Mister Valentin panted, his muzzle hanging open. He held one paw pressed tightly beneath his armpit, trying to stop the blood flowing from his wound. “At least tie it before you go.”

The sage’s only answer was to nod to me one last time, then clap my master on the shoulder. “Keep this one close,” she murmured. “I’ll see you in a few hours.” Then she ducked her head, shifted her bag higher on her shoulder, and dashed to the end of the alley, vanishing in the opposite direction as the guard and Mister Chelin.

The sergeant waited for Miss Aura’s tail to disappear from view before coughing and audibly swallowing again. “Pet, I don’t know what she’s thinking, but whatever it is, hurry. I’m feeling faint again.”

I took a deep breath and let it out in a heavy sigh. “Yes, sir.” I glanced to my master. “Master, please cut away his sleeve?” My master, unfortunately, remained fixed in place, his eyes still on the patch of glistening black spreading against the back of Mister Valentin’s arm. “Master?” Still he stay motionless and staring, until I finally lay a paw directly on his shoulder and hissed in his ear. “Pet.”

That snapped him to attention; he ducked his head, but his ears and tail perked. “Master?” he whispered in response.

I gestured to Mister Valentin’s arm with my free paw. “I need to touch him directly, so you need to be my fingers. Cut away his sleeve, pet.” Erik had the knife in his boot free almost as soon as I’d explained. As he worked on the fabric, I closed my eyes and put one paw on the sergeant’s neck, the other at his wrist. One light, two lights… bring water to soothe fire…. I imagined a flow of water, pouring coolly from the sergeant’s throat and down the length of his arm, bathing the angry flame of his injury.

Mister Valentin’s breath caught in his throat. “Feels… Taneh, what are you doing?” I didn’t answer; my attentions were on his wound, not his words. As soon as Erik’s paws were out of the way, I brought my own together, tracing one up from the wrist, the other down from the shoulder. Spasms of pain rippled through his injured flesh beneath the touch, and the sergeant let out a sharp hiss as I neared the arrow hole Miss Aura had aggravated. “Taneh, stop!”

“I have my orders, sir,” I replied, trying to hold my focus; this was actually harder than staying dead. “Pet, hold his other arm and shoulder. Keep him still.” Erik nodded, and I let my mind slip back among the lights. Twelve lights. Thirteen. Fourteen. Air to purify. I envisoned smoke and mist that swirled around the torn skin, a whirlwind to draw taint from the gaping wound like a chimney. One. Two. I counted aloud, whispering the numbers with every breath to help me keep the image in my mind.

For a dozen breaths, I kept the winds swirling against Mister Valentin’s arm, while the sergeant panted, pressing himself against the tavern wall. When I let slip the gyre, I paused long enough to look into his eyes. “This part will hurt, sir, but it will be quick, I hope.”

“Listen, Taneh, stop and explain what you’re—” The sergeant’s words ended in an abrupt yowl, muffled sharply against Erik’s sleeve as he jammed his arm into Mister Valentin’s muzzle to try to silence him. Fire to soften. Beneath my paws, hot coals glowed, the skin beneath my touch rippling and sagging as I poured heat through it. With the anger in his wound already, it took only a little to make the flesh pliant, and I smoothed my palms with the grain of his fur, sealing over the wound and realigning the skin beneath.

As soon as the heat of his injury became one with the fires beneath my paws, I released them, leaving only a dull red throb beneath the surface, a pain I knew how to treat. Water to soothe. This I had done before, and it took little enough to bring a calming chill to Mister Valentin’s skin. When I could feel no trace of anger left in the sergeant’s flesh, I let out the breath I’d forgotten I was holding and opened my eyes. My work wasn’t wasn’t tidy, to be sure; the arm seemed thinner than before, and his fur lay in every direction, as though I’d stirred his skin with a stick. At least the blood had stopped, though, and the sergeant’s breathing had mostly returned to normal.

Satisfied I had done as Miss Aura asked, I stepped back and lowered my head, then pressed my paws together behind my back. “My apologies, sir. I should have explained.” I wasn’t sure in that moment that I could’ve projected more than a whisper had I even wanted. I felt drained, some reserve within me tapped that I hadn’t expected to run dry.

“No, no matter.” Mister Valentin’s own words were distant. “Where did you….” His voice trailed off there as he flexed his arm and watched it bend. “It’s a little tight,” he mumbled as he tried to reach over his head, then looked quizzically at my pet still clinging to his other arm. “Erik?”

I sighed and answered the unasked question. “Watching Miss Aura, sir. I’m a quick study.” I motioned to my side with one paw. “Leave him be, pet.”

The sergeant’s eyes widened at that. “What?”

Erik cringed, but he took his place beside me, his own head bowed. “It’s too long to explain, sir. He wasn’t supposed to act up in public, but nothing else was getting through to him.” I sighed and gently tussled my pet’s ears.

Mister Valentin’s eyes went from mine to Erik’s and back again several times before he finally shook his head. “Explain. Everything. But after we’re done with this this madness.” He held both his arms straight before him; the left was a fingerswidth shorter. “Dust, Aura. She obeys every order I give her and still manages to risk my life on a gamble.” He smiled as he looked at me, but the expression didn’t reach his eyes, and his ears remained flat against his head. “She’s going to get us all killed at this rate,”

“If it’s going to be anyone, I’d rather it be Miss Datsia, sir.” I glanced to Erik and nuzzled his cheek. “Are you fit to continue?”

Erik’s ears flattened. “Yes, sorry, pet.” He put a tinge of emphasis on the word, stepping back into control. “I… I don’t know what came over me. I’ve never been that close to somebody dying before.”

“Listen, Erik,” Mister Valentin sighed. “You’re going to get a lot closer before we’re done. We need to get to Deterikh Keep, and quickly. Our best chance is that Inika’s rallied the faithful and we’re walking into a rebellion.”

Erik flinched at the word. “And our worst?”

Mister Valentin shouldered his pack. “Andor and Chelin have both been caught, and we’re walking into an ambush.”

My left paw began to itch, and I rubbed it as subtly as I could against my side. A paw fell upon my shoulder, and I turned to see Miss Aura give a shake of her head. “Leave it, pet,” she murmured in my ear.

“Something wrong with Taneh?” my master whispered as he looked back, one weary paw resting on the pommel of his mace at his hip.

“Ey’s just anxious,” the sage covered smoothly, giving my ears a gentle stroke that sent a shiver down my spine. “It’s been a long few weeks.”

Mister Valentin chuckled mirthlessly at that. “For all of us,” he muttered. Then he swung one arm towards the shack and its attendants. “Aura, if you would?”

Miss Aura nodded, then strode towards the gate, into the light, one arm raised in greeting. “Ho there!”

At the sudden voice in the darkness, both guards snapped to attention, spears half-lowered towards the darkness beyond the city walls. “Who goes?”

“I’ve an urgent message for Iladin!” the sage replied. As she spoke, she reached into her blouse and pulled out a familiar folded sheaf of parchment, which she shook in front of her to punctuate her words. “We’ll need an audience with the sage, and as quickly as possible.”

The guards slowly lowered the points of their spears in her direction. “Who are you?” the one on the left asked, flicking the tip of his spear in our direction. “What’s your message?”

“It’s about Jazinsk’s harvests and a risk to Deterikh’s stores.” Despite my best efforts to stay silent, I couldn’t quite repress a chuckle. For all that Miss Aura had accused Mister Dion of having a quicksilver tongue, the sage herself was no slouch at fast talk. “I’ve made some notes that he’ll want to see, given the war and all.” She held out the folded paper. “You’re welcome to review them yourselves, but Iladin’ll need to to see them.”

The guards exchanged glances, but as one of them began to return his spear to the ready, a fresh voice called out from the shack. “Who’s there? What’s she want?” Moments later, a familiar wolf in Deterikh’s green and white stepped out into the road, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Someone asking for an audience with Iladin, sir,” the guard on the right answered, still facing in our direction. “She says it’s about our—”

“Chelin! Koshki’s luck!” Mister Valentin strode into the light, right past the suddenly-slackjawed sage and towards the cluster of guards. “Listen. We need your—” Both spears suddenly focused on the newcomer, and the sergeant raised his paws in surprise. “Chelin? We need your help.”

“Valentin?” The runner’s voice rose in shock, his arms outstretched. “What are you doing here? Datsia… she said you’d gone purple on us!”

Mister Valentin clasped arms with his lieutenant, a smile on his muzzle and a laugh in his voice. “Never, Chelin. Never. I went to save the rightful baron. Erik!” He turned and beckoned towards my master. “Step into the light!”

As my master stepped forward, one of his paws still on my shoulder, one of the guards suddenly stumbled, his spear clattering loudly against the ground. I saw a blur of motion behind the sergeant, and then the other spearpoint suddenly dropped out of view. I thrust one arm out in front of me, trying to point past him. “Sir!”

Mister Valentin’s ears flattened at the commotion beside him as his training visibly took control. He sprung forward, slamming into Mister Chelin and sending the two sprawling to the ground as a spear thrust into the space that his chest had been not seconds before. His killing blow denied, the guard attacking them raised his spear to drive it downward, but it clattered off of my master’s sudden rising swing, skittered down the pole, and then bounced off of the baron’s knuckles.

My master yelped in surprise and jerked back his paw, snapping his spear upright. The sudden tug sent Mister Valentin’s attacker into a lurch before dropping his weapon, which clattered against the well-trod path. Rather than grope for his fallen spear, the guard simply turned and dashed inside the walls, his voice rising in a strangled cry. “At the gate! At the gate!”

“Dust!” Mister Valentin hissed as he scrambled back to his hinds. “Everyone, now!” He jerked Mister Chelin upright, then marched us through the gates, shoving us ahead of him as fast as he could. “Move! Move!” As guards began to move along the walls towards the circle of light, Mister Valentin drove us inside, back into the darkness, across the empty market square and into the outer edges of the city itself. Behind me, I heard two bowstrings twang, the hiss of arrows, and then a choked-off grunt from the sergeant as we ducked behind a closed tavern.

In the sudden dark and still, five breaths were a tornado. As I panted and swallowed, trying to get my heart under control, I caught a whiff of blood and a grimace as Mister Valentin fought off the urge to faint. The arrow that protruded from the back of his arm hadn’t come through to the front, but the head was fully under the skin and the sleeve below was slick and shiny.

“And that’s your way of letting me handle it, then.” Miss Aura’s tongue was quick as ever, though her tone was all patience. “It’s not deep; best to pull it.” She snatched a stick from the ground, then held it to the Mister Valentin’s muzzle. “Bite,” she murmured, and the sergeant nodded, taking the wood in his teeth. She put one paw on his shoulder, then wrapped the other around the shaft. “On three. Ready?” Mister Valentin nodded again, and the sage braced her legs.

“One.” Miss Aura’s arm jerked and the sergeant gagged, the wood cracking in his teeth as he bit down against the pain. The sleeve of the jacket let out a wet rip as the arrowhead pulled free from his arm, shredding the fabric as she tugged it free. “That’ll leave a scar. Best give me a minute with it.”

“No time,” Mister Valentin groaned around the last of the splinters. “Listen. Got to get to the keep. Got to split up; they’ll find us if we stay here.”

“You’ll be no good to us or to Baris if you bleed out,” Miss Aura hissed in response. “At least let me stanch the flow.”

“Just tie it,” the sergeant insisted. “Go, wake Iladin, start him crafting all the potions he can manage. Chelin.” He put his good paw on his lieutenant’s shoulder. “Find that runner.” Mister Chelin nodded and saluted, then sprinted down the alley, vanishing as he hit the street. “Guard.” Without turning his head, he addressed the warden who’d been dragged along with us in the commotion. “Your name?”

The young guard that had followed us clutched his spear to his chest. “A-Andor?” he stuttered. “Sir?”

The sergeant nodded, staggering slightly as he bobbed his head. “Andor. Go find Inika, daughter of Eskaya. Tell her the baron has returned; she’ll know what to do.” Andor gave the same nod and salute, then disappeared towards the keep. Mister Valentin watched him run, then looked at Miss Aura. “You’re still here.”

“You’re still bleeding,” Miss Aura retorted. “Where’s that draught I gave you?” Mister Valentin fumbled at his waist, then held up the battered flask. “Drink it.” The sergeant unscrewed the cap, then scowled as he tipped the bottle. His fur bristled and his ears went flat, but he held the flask to his lips until it ran dry. “That’ll keep your strength. Taneh, tend his wound.”

“Taneh?” At that, my master’s ears flattened. “Ey’s got no fingers! How’s ey going to—”

“Ey has other means,” The sage interrupted. “Between that flask and eir work, he should be fine. Just try not to favor the arm too much, Valentin.” She clapped the sergeant on his good shoulder, but the blow still made him wince. “I’ll go find Iladin. Great Family willing, you’ll still be alive by the time we get to the keep.”

As we drew close enough for me to make out individual archers pacing along the rooftops, the sage’s horse let out a halfhearted squeal, and then the thundering of Kelena’s gallop suddenly became little more than a shuffling walk. I heard Miss Aura rattle and crack the reins, but the wagon held its trudging pace. The drivers’ window opened, and Miss Aura yelled down from the front seat. “That’ll be it, then. Kelena’s run to her limits.”

The baron and sergeant exchanged a glance, then my master shook his head with a bitter chuckle. “That would be the way of it.”

Mister Valentin groaned and hammered against the wall of the wagon with his fist. “Dust,” he swore under his breath. He twisted his muzzle into a scowl, then raised his voice to the window. “Can she still walk?”

“She’s walking now, isn’t she?” Miss Aura called back. “I’ll take no bets on her making it to the walls, though. The sooner we can lighten her load, the sooner she’ll recover.”

The sergeant sighed in response. “Right, stop the wagon.” Almost as soon as he spoke, we shuddered to a stop and I heard Kelena groan and slump to the ground. He tugged the door open, then jumped down to the ground and held a paw up for us. “From here, we walk.”

My master took the proffered paw in one of his own, the other on my shoulder as he dropped from the wagon. “But what about the supplies? We can’t just leave them here.”

“We’ll bring what we can carry,” the sage called down from the seat. “Unpack the chest, I’ll need that at least. Valentin, your help? Now’s no time for another twist.”

While the sergeant helped Miss Aura down from her perch, my master tugged me after him to the rear and began untying the knots holding the supplies from Barony Jazinsk. “What’s all this for, anyway?” he groused as we set aside bags of hardtack, a quiver of crossbow bolts, and a coil of rope. “Were they expecting us to scale the battlements?”

“Likely Dagos gave us everything he thought they could spare,” Mister Valentin chided. “Take it as a gesture of political support, not material.” He wiped his paws on his pants legs. “My pack is clothes; it can stay, as can the rest of this.” He pitched himself into the work alongside his baron, and soon bags lay scattered around the rear of the wagon. “Aura? Your trunk is free.”

The sage picked at the sleeve of her blouse with her claws as she knelt in front of her chest. “Good, I’ll start sorting this.” She motioned to one of the bags of rope. “Erik, unhitch Kelena and tie her bridle with as much lead as you can give her. She’ll not run far, but she’ll want a bit of room to pace when she recovers.” While my master nodded and set to work securing the horse, Miss Aura opened the trunk and began rummaging within. Inside, thickly padded crushed velvet lined the walls, with rows of pockets holding small vials and bottles. Books and scrolls haphazardly filled the center, along with other bits of apparatus I couldn’t identify. At one point, I heard the tinkle of glass shards bumping into each other. “That’ll have been my alembic, no doubt,” she hissed through clenched teeth. She lifted what looked like a hollow teardrop with a flattened base, its tip hooked sharply. “That’ll be a prince’s ransom to replace.”

“No doubt Baron Deterikh will be happy to replace it, assuming we live to see the exchequer again,” Mister Valentin quipped. “What did you need out of there?”

“Everything, eventually,” Miss Aura quipped, her head back down into the trunk. “In the immediate, though… ah, there!” I heard more shifting glass, and then the clank of thin metal banging against something solid. The sage sat back on her heels, holding a pair of worn pewter flasks, which she passed to the sergeant. “Strength and speed. You’ll want that when the time comes to stare down Datsia. One for each of you.”

My master took his flask and unstoppered it, then sniffed at the contents. His ears flattened and his lips curled, and he quickly capped the bottle again. “And we’re supposed to drink it?”

“As much as you can manage,” the sage agreed. “Give it, oh, a quarter-hour to come to full potency, so plan on downing it well before you meet her, and expect to feel a li—” She snapped her eyes in my direction, then turned back to the sergeant. “A bit foggy after. It should give you a good half-hour’s advantage, though.”

Mister Valentin pinched the bridge of his muzzle with his free paw. “Assuming we get the chance to use it. Anything else?”

Miss Aura turned back to the trunk and cautious rattled the contents, grumbling to herself over other broken apparatus. “One last… there.” She sat back over her heels, a small metal vial balanced on her paw. Unlike the others, this one was highly polished, likely silver, and stoppered with wax. In the wax, someone had scraped a rough circle with three small dots in it, an uncomfortably familiar symbol.

Reflexively, I put my right paw against the left and rubbed at the blackened fur, but the sage glanced in my direction and gave the barest shake of her head. I lowered my arms to my sides, but the fur continued to itch, as if the sight of that sigil had reminded me of the sensation. Miss Aura, however, turned her attention back to the other two, visibly dismissing my discomfort. “Crack the seal, carefully, and pour this on your spearpoint before you stab her.”

That sent Mister Valentin’s ears flat against his head. “Poison?” His voice rose in disbelief.

The sage’s eyes glimmered above her cold smile, and her tail hooked behind her. “It’s no dragonbane, but it’ll do the job.” She rolled the slim vial in her fingers. “Just don’t get it on any cuts. I can treat it if I get to it fast enough, but for her, I doubt that’ll be an issue. The closer to her heart you can get it, the quicker it’ll do the job.”

Mister Valentin frowned at the vial and crossed his arms. “I’m not comfortable with this, Aura. In one swift stroke, you’ve turned us from rightful rulers to a bunch of assassins.”

Miss Aura shrugged in response. “History is written by the victors. You wanted tools to help you deal with Datsia; I’ve provided what I could in the time I had.”

The sergeant shook his head at that, turning towards my master. “No, no, this is a step too far. If we have to stoop to this—”

“Datsia’s already done worse,” The sage snapped. She jabbed one finger at me, glaring at Mister Valentin. “She had an innocent slave warped to serve as a distraction, duped the baron’s best friend to turn against him, sold out her own family’s legacy for a strip of land, and waged an unjust war on her neighbors. Assassins? We’re physicians, drawing out the disease to save the patient. No-one blames the leech for its necessity.”

Mister Valentin stared down at Miss Aura for several seconds, then pressed his fingers to the bridge of his muzzle. “Listen, Aura, you’ve managed to make me doubt the virtue of our path. Well done.”

Miss Aura sighed. “Then consider this. When you run into Datsia, you’ll have a choice: let her live, or kill her. You know you can’t trust her as long as she lives, and you know that she’ll not hesitate to kill you in return, by whatever means she can. The faster she’s dead, the faster you’ll be able to stop the war and the smaller the odds that you’ll have to fight the Jazinsks.” She tossed the vial to Mister Valentin, who fumbled for it reflexively. “If both of you fall, I’ll have no hesitation about using it myself.”

My master and Mister Valentin exchanged a look at that. Then Mister Valentin passed over the vial. “Hold onto this. Use it only if it looks like you’ll have to fight her alone, and Great Family, don’t spill it.” He turned back to Miss Aura with a frown. “What other surprises have you packed? A plague of locusts, perhaps?”

The sage chuckled bitterly at that and picked at the sleeve of her blouse. “We hadn’t the time to summon one. The rest, I’d need a circle to manage properly, and more supplies than we’d rather carry. I can get us past the guards at the front gate, but from there, we’re in Koshki’s paws and yours.”

Despite the near-constant noise streaming in from outside, silence reigned within the wagon. I knelt beside my master, my paws folded on my knees with my head in his lap. At times his fingers caressed my neck, tracing the edges of my collar and gently rustling the links of my chains. At others, he splayed his paw across my back, sweeping his paw slowly over my shoulders and down my spine. I kept myself still as he petted me, sinking into his touch as much as the constant jostling would permit, quietly savoring the contact.

A sudden jolt to the right dropped me out of my reverie as the wagon rolled sharply onto two wheels. Both he and Mister Valentin slid into the far wall, tipping the vehicle further and sending me sprawling. Miss Aura cried out and cracked the reins, and Kelena let out an exhausted whinny in response. Then we jerked forward, spilling my master out of his seat, pinning me under his knees. The wheels dropped home with a crunch and an awful screech of tortured wood and metal, and visions of the cart collapsing into splinters flooded my head. The iron-shod axles held, though, and soon we were rushing headlong towards Baris once more.

Mister Valentin helped lift my master off of me and back into his seat, then turned and yanked open the window up to the driver’s seat. “The next spill like that will probably shatter a wheel or worse, Aura!” he yelled over the wagon’s constant protests. “Speed is of the essence, but for naught if we don’t arrive at all!”

“Aye, and next you’ll be up here telling me how to do that!” the sage shouted back. “You’ll take the reins and suddenly this half-crazed horse will just up and obey, the roads will all run straight, and every rock will find a rut and fill it!”

The sergeant let out an exasperated sigh and slammed shut the window, then dropped heavily into his seat, adding another jolt to the wheels. “At this rate, we may not even make it to Baris,” he groused. He drew in a heavy breath, then leaned back and stared at the ceiling as he exhaled. “What a waste.”

“Even if we do, we still have Datsia to face,” Erik added around his scowl. He drummed the claws of one paw against the seat beside him, the other clutching my shoulder. “We still haven’t talked about what we’re going to do if we get that far.”

Mister Valentin shrugged. “That depends on….” His voice trailed into silence for a moment before he shrugged. “How many troops she has left in Baris, whether we can get to the scullery without being seen, how much support we can muster inside the keep….” He sighed. “Listen, Erik, there’s just too much that’s unknown at that point.”

My master chuckled softly and shook his head. “You’re lying, Valentin.” He lowered his head and smiled as he casually kneaded my shoulder. “You always say ‘listen’ when you’re trying to get someone to believe you, but when you’re condescending about it, you’re the one you’re trying to convince.”

“Dust, Erik, that’s—” The curse was out of Mister Valentin’s muzzle almost immediately, followed by awkward silence, then an uncomfortable chuckle. “That’s painfully astute, actually. I hadn’t even noticed I was doing it.” He looked out the window at the rushing countryside. “Keep that up, and I might actually believe you can do the job.”

My master shrugged. “I still don’t want it, but that raises a question.” He hooked his thumb over his shoulder, back towards Barony Jazinsk. “During the negotiations in Tomas’ chambers, you spelled out Datsia’s battle plans. Do you know that’s what she’s doing?”

The sergeant-at-arms crossed his arms and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “Why this sudden doubt?”

My master smirked, his head still bowed. “I couldn’t say anything, but I could still hear you talking. I can’t recall the details, but you said ‘listen’ a lot, and, well….” He shrugged. “I guess I’m wondering why she trusted you with her plans. Datsia doesn’t trust anyone, especially if she thought you’d stab her in the back.”

Mister Valentin’s ears went back against his head, which drooped as he sighed again. “I was helping her get you off the throne in the first place. She didn’t think I’d betray her.”

“Datsia assumes everyone will betray her,” my master growled. “She doesn’t even trust Dion, I don’t think. She just knows what he likes and plays to it.” Mention of the loathsome envoy made my master dig his claws into my shoulder further. I whimpered, and he hissed through his teeth, rubbing the abused patch tenderly with his pads. “Sorry, pet.”

I shrugged and nuzzled at my master’s leg, but Mister Valentin was already talking. “I don’t think there’s an honest bone in Dion’s body, but he’s good at what he does.” He sighed and pinched the top of his muzzle. “Too good.”

My master smirked. “You’re changing the subject. What do you think Datsia’s actually doing?”

Mister Valentin leaned back against the wall and sighed. “I think she’s doing what I said she was, sending Dion south through the Estuzias to secure those mines, then flank Krolik and try for a back entrance while Tomas’ forces are braced for a frontal assault. Why?”

“Is that what she said, or what you think?” My master hissed the words.

“What does it matter?” The Deterikh sergeant threw his arms in the air reflexively, rapping his knuckles against the roof of the wagon with a wince.

My master was quiet for several seconds. “Because Datsia doesn’t trust anybody, and if we’re defending against what she told you she was planning, we’re probably riding into a trap.”

Mister Valentin didn’t answer immediately. His gaze turned to the window for a brief eternity while he watched the grasses and trees flow past us. “All I know for certain is that Datsia told Dion to take his time with the advance on Krolik,” he finally replied, his voice barely audible over the protests of the wheels. “That and she gruffed about your father giving up the mountains for too little. The rest….” He shrugged again. “I don’t know. She could’ve been deceiving me, but I don’t know. That’s the problem with her; there’s never any way to know for sure.”

He looked back to my master, then put one paw on my shoulder. “Listen, Erik,” he said with deliberate certainty. “All I can tell you for sure is that I don’t have any better plans than what we’re doing right now. I’m hoping that flying our colors will get us past the gates, but the odds are good that we’re going to have to fight our way into Baris. We may get lucky between there and the back gate, but once inside the keep, all plans are cancelled. Much depends on how quickly we can find—”

“Brace!” The shout from Miss Aura, outside, cut across the sergeant’s lecture, and then suddenly the wagon pitched sharply to the left, sending be back against the door, which rattled as I fell against it. This time, my master’s knees wound up in the small of my back, pinning me against the frame. The sage’s horse let out another whinny, and then we tumbled back to the center again as the cart righted itself, the wheels slamming down onto the ground.

Mister Valentin was up on his knees on the bench in a heartbeat, jerking open the window. “Aura! Another one of those and you’ll shatter a wheel!” he bellowed up at the driver.

“You’ll be saying that every time we go around a bend!” the sage shouted back. “Or perhaps you’d rather try to take the reins?”

The sergeant pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just tell me how much longer.”

Miss Aura snapped her reins in response. “Before dusk, assuming the wheels and my patience all hold! We’ll need one more stop for grooming and feed, though; Kelena’s starting to flag.”

“I couldn’t tell,” the sergeant grumbled as he slammed the window closed and dropped back to his seat. “I’m sorry, Erik. Where was I?”

My master shrugged again as he struggled off of me and back into his seat. “Sorry again, pet.”

“It’s alright, master,” I replied softly, with a hint of a smile. “I’m used to it.”

My master winced at that, but to his credit, he turned back to Mister Valentin as though the matter were finished. “You were saying something about much depending on something.”

“Right.” Mister Valentin sighed heavily and shook his head. “Much is going to depend on how quickly we can find support inside, and how much resistance we face. The more we have to fight before we reach Datsia and the less support we have, the worse our odds.”

My master nodded. “So, what do you think our odds are?”

Mister Valentin didn’t answer; he just turned back to the window, watching the world rush by us as we raced towards Baris.

Deep within the alchemist’s quarters, something stirred, followed by the click and rattle of the interior door. Dimly, hinds shuffled against stone, and I could just make out Miss Aura’s voice, muttering to herself as she stumbled closer. The latch on the outer door clacked, and then the Deterikh sage peered out through a crack, blinking rapidly. Her fur stood unkempt, and sleep lidded her eyes. “Is it sun-up already?”

“Half an hour past, at least,” Mister Valentin replied sourly, his muzzle twisted into a scowl. “Can you be ready in ten minutes, or should we leave without you?” By the lay of his ears and the tone of his voice, I had some sense which he would have preferred.

Miss Aura stood silent on the other side of the door, then pulled it open as she stepped inside. The trunk she’d brought sat beside the entrance, with a small bundle of clothing atop it. No blankets were visible on the couch, nor could I see any sign of the sage having slept in the room. “You’ll have to forgive my indecency, sergeant,” she said as she cast aside her robe, leaving herself nude.

Mister Valentin’s eyes widened at the sage’s sudden exposure, then turned away. “If you’d said, we could’ve waited in the hallway.”

“If we’re to depart that soon, there’ll be no time for formality,” Miss Aura replied as she slid the bra up her shoulders and fumbled with the clasp. “Besides, Taneh wears not a stitch and you don’t seem to care.”

The sergeant sniffed. “That’s different. Ey’s a slave.”

That made the sage chuckle. “Oh, of course, and that’s all the difference right there.” She struggled into her blouse, then retrieved short braies and stepped into them. “Rena? No time to break fast, I fear.”

“Hmm?” The alchemist swung open the inner chamber, then stepped into her small parlor. Her own robe hung loosely over her shoulder, the sash at her waist tied in a hasty bow. “Pity, that. Another time, then.”

“If we live to see it, certainly,” Miss Aura replied with false cheer. She tied her skirt around her waist, then kicked the trunk. “If you and Erik can manage the trunk, we can be off. I’ll want the rest of my time at the wagon. I’ll want some apples for Kelena, and then we can be off.”

Mister Valentin shook his head. “Listen, Aura, there’s no time for treats. We need—”

“We need every advantage we can give ourselves, sergeant, and that means listening to your sage.” Miss Aura glared at the sergeant over her outstretched paw. “Rena and I cooked up a draught that should let her gallop from Krolik to Baris in a single day and not two, but it’s too bitter for her to drink and too much at once and she’ll come down with the shakes. An apple ensures she eats it, and having a few means that if she starts to flag, we can lift her spirits.”

Miss Rena nodded. “I’ll dash to the kitchens and see what can be done, then meet you at the stables.” With that, the alchemist slipped past Erik and I, leaving the door open behind her.

The sage waved to her Jazinski counterpart, then turned back to the sergeant. “That’s two minutes you wasted making me explain myself. Shall we go? You said we were in a hurry.” Despite her smile, her gaze was cool, and the tip of her banded tail lashed behind her.

For a moment, Mister Valentin shook with barely-repressed frustration, squinting at the sage with his paws balled into fists. Then, suddenly, he burst out laughing, sagging back against the wall. “I yield; you win.” He slid the bag from his shoulders and gestured towards it. “Taneh, carry this.” As I knelt and shrugged into his pack, he walked to the chest and motioned for Erik to take the opposite handle. “Listen, Aura, why don’t you tell us about the other surprises you’ve prepared once we’re on our way, alright?”

Erik took up his position beside the sage’s trunk, then groaned as he strained to lift the massive trunk off the ground. “Oshka’s strength, Aura! What do you have in here, bodies?”

Miss Aura chuckled at that. “Not whole ones, at least,” she replied. “Mostly books and some scrolls, with a few hard-to-find reagents I suspected I’d want, and those surprises I mentioned.” She motioned towards the door. “I’ll latch up once you’re outside.” I quickly stepped outside, out of the way, while the two struggled the sage’s chest out into the hallway. As soon as they were clear, she fumbled with the catch on the inside of the door, then pulled it closed behind her. “Let’s go.”

The hallway from Miss Aura’s chambers to the front of Krolik Tower seemed to stretch on twice as long as before with Erik and Mister Valentin grunting their way down its length. Once outside, though, it was a thankfully short stretch under warm morning sun to the stables. A few hostlers and slaves stood around the wagon, loading bags onto the roof and tying them down. Mister Dagos stood beside Miss Rena, directing the work.

Mister Valentin motioned for Erik to drop his end of the trunk, then dropped his side with a groan. “What’s all this?”

The Jazinski sergeant turned to face us, then motioned towards the trunk. “Make sure that goes on bottom at the back,” he said to one of the slaves, a heavyset lynx wearing only a leather collar. Then he approached and clasped arms with Mister Valentin and smiled. “The baron thought it best to send you with a few goodwill tidings. It’s not much, but Barony Jazinsk stands with you in this.”

Mister Valentin and my master exchanged raised brows at that. “That’s very generous of you,” my master replied carefully. “Are you sure you can afford to be so giving?”

Mister Dagos smiled wanly in response, not quite able to cover the pain in his expression. “If Valentin’s words are to be believed, then we have little choice in the matter; it’s give them to you today or Datsia in a month. Tomas and I agreed that you were the better option.”

My master swallowed at that and put his paw on my shoulder. His claws dug into my fur, but he kept the tension to just his fingers. “Jazinsk’s generosity in our time of need will be well and truly remembered.”

“I trust it will,” the Jazinski sergeant replied.

“Speaking of which,” Miss Rena added, hefting a small burlap sack in her paw. “Aura? You wanted apples? The last ones in the larder. I hope they’re enough.”

Everyone fell quiet at that, with uncomfortable glances shared in the awkward silence. Wordlessly, the Deterikh sage took the bag, then went behind her wagon and began rummaging in the trunk. “Won’t be but a few.” While she prepared the treats for her horse, Mister Valentin helped my master and I into the wagon, then climbed in himself. Outside, I could hear Miss Aura whispering to her mount, mostly soothing tones without any real content. Erik shivered beside me, and I ran a soothing paw down his leg, shushing softly. He half-turned to me and nodded, and I patted his knee with one paw. Across the small space, Mister Valentin caught my eye, but I gave a shake of my head, and the sergeant shrugged in response.

“Help me up?” I heard Miss Aura ask, and then the wagon shook as she climbed up into the driver’s seat. “You’ll know soon enough if we’ve won, I suppose.”

“We’ll be waiting for news,” Mister Dagos replied as he poked his head into the wagon. “Valentin?” He held out his paw, and my master’s sergeant took it in his. “Koshki’s luck with you. You’re going to need it.”

“Koshki’s luck with us all, Dagos. We’ll send word.” Then he pulled the door to the wagon closed and rapped on the sliding door to the front of the wagon. Miss Aura cracked the reins, and we began to move.