It had taken them several weeks to return to Giavolo. They had stopped for food and shelter at farms along the way, in exchange for small spells or a day of manual labor, and their stolen cart wasn’t exactly the quickest conveyance on the road. But, as they no longer had to worry about clicker attacks, the journey had seemed relatively easy—even peaceful at times.

Vervain’s first priority on her return had been to find Briar housing in the student dormitories and arrange for him to attend classes during the upcoming term. Amethyst’s priority, it seemed, had been to relay the details of their journey to her family, including the grand duke. She’d sent Vervain a note the day before, mentioning that in addition to her normal classes, she was also to start studying with “our mutual friend, recently returned from Benevalia,” which Vervain took to mean Jasper. Apparently, someone in Amethyst’s family had realized that she had valuable skills beyond making a convenient dynastic marriage.

Riyu and Kiki had of course reported to Nagati; Vervain didn’t know what had been said during that meeting. Riyu had returned immediately after to take up watch over her once again…but how long could that last? The orc troop had been hired to do a specific job, and that job had been completed. Soon they would move on, and Riyu would go with them.

She hadn’t spoken of it to him, not wanting to taint their remaining time together with sorrow for the future. And it wouldn’t be fair to him. He has his own life, with his troop. One that doesn’t include me.

Even though my heart breaks a little more each day.

A squeaker popped out of the little hole in the wall, and Vervain’s heart clenched with dread. “Mistress Vervain diGiavolo,” it said in the chancellor’s voice, “please come to my office at your earliest convenience.” Its missive delivered, it waited a moment for a reply, then scuttled back into its hole.

This is it, then.

Riyu had been waiting outside, claiming that his presence within would only distract her from her work. When she joined him, he cast her a worried look. “Vervain-ge? Is something wrong?”

She managed to give him a weak smile. “I’ve been summoned to the chancellor’s office.”

“Ah. Yes. I imagined this would happen. It does not, however, explain why you look as though you expect to be executed once we arrive.”

The words stuck in her throat, so she only shrugged and took his hand, not caring who saw. They walked together to the administrative building; it was between terms, so only those few students staying in the dormitories were about, and most of those were inside on such a rainy day. When they reached the dry haven of the hall outside the chancellor’s office, Vervain reluctantly let go of Riyu’s hand, straightened her shoulders, and marched inside.

The chancellor stood beside his desk, but he wasn’t alone. Nagati waited near the fireplace, and Grand Duke Langalia stood resting his hip against the chancellor’s desk. His black clothing made him look a bit like an overgrown crow. When Vervain and Riyu entered, he straightened and gave her a smile through his grizzled beard.

“Mistress Vervain. My niece has told me a great deal about you. It’s a pleasure.” He gave her a graceful bow.

She offered him a tight nod in return. “Grand Duke. Forgive me, but I wasn’t expecting you to be here.”

He didn’t ask what she had expected, instead cutting straight to the point. “Amethyst tells me you would have been a great battlemage.”

Vervain’s mouth thinned; did he think to recruit her? “I’m sure Amethyst also related the reasons I became a teacher instead.”

The chancellor made a distressed sound, no doubt wanting to scold her for being rude to the grand duke, but not daring to do so in front of the man himself. Langalia didn’t look upset, however, only gave Vervain a small smile. “Indeed. A pity, but there you have it. Based on your little expedition, however, it has become clear that we have not appreciated those within these walls as we should have.”

Amethyst must have told him what Malachite said. Vervain shrugged, unable to make herself care. “That’s for others to decide.”

“And we have. In particular, we are worried about the defense of the university—but I’ll let the chancellor give you that bit of news. I am here to make a personal request. Would you consider helping Giavolo improve its defenses? I’ll be honest, Mistress—from what Amethyst tells me, you have a unique and brilliant mind, and I think you could be of great assistance to us, in whatever capacity is agreeable to you. As a free citizen, you are under no obligation to say yes, but I would like to add that you would be very well compensated.”

She hesitated, thinking of all the equipment in her lab that needed replaced. “My budget…?”

“Whatever you need, within reason. You don’t strike me as someone likely to raid the treasury for her own gain,” he added with a nod toward her plain clothing.

She was silent for a moment longer, thinking. “Yes,” she said at last. “As long as we’re clear that I only wish to protect Giavolo, not to start up a new conflict with one of our neighbors. Assuming there are any that we aren’t already at war with, that is.”

“Perfectly clear,” the grand duke said with a smile. “I’ll send someone around next week to show you what we have now and to take down your suggestions for improvement.”

Vervain nodded, then steeled herself. No sense in putting off the inevitable, after all. “I take it that wasn’t the only thing you wanted from me?” she asked, glancing at Nagati as she did so.

“No.” The chancellor took out a handkerchief and mopped his brow nervously. “I have some…well, some bad news. But it’s necessary, so I beg you, Vervain, hear me out before you start shouting.”

There would be no point to shouting, so Vervain merely nodded. “Very well.”

“Thank you. As the grand duke mentioned, no one quite appreciated the value of the university until now. Our defenses aren’t what they could be, and some of the staff—yourself most of all—could make tempting targets to our enemies. How long will it be before Benevalia takes a page out of Icci’s book, especially if they realize that you’re helping with Giavolo’s defenses? So I’ve made a decision, based on necessity, and not just the fact that some parents were uneasy about letting their children return to classes without some assurance that they’d be protected. I’ve asked Nagati and her troop to stay here on a permanent basis.”

It took Vervain’s mind a moment to process what he’d just said. “The orcs are staying?”

“Yes. Now look, I know you put up a fuss the first time around, but you have to understand that your safety is important to us. So I’m afraid you’re to have a bodyguard for the foreseeable future—and I don’t want to hear any protests, Vervain! I’ve made up my mind!” Apparently encouraged by the fact she wasn’t yelling, he tried a fatherly smile. “We’ll keep it as discreet as you wish, of course—perhaps some of the cadets could take over, in disguise—rotating guards—”

Riyu’s ears dipped sharply. “Forgive me, Emerald-ga,” he said, his voice a deep rumble, “but as I am still sworn to Vervain-naga’s service, guarding her is my privilege. If she has no objections,” he added reluctantly.

The chancellor blinked in surprise, but Nagati merely looked faintly amused. Vervain wondered if Riyu had told his commander about their relationship, or if she had figured it out on her own.

“Oh,” the chancellor said uncertainly. “Well, Vervain, is that all right with you?”

“Of course. I’ve grown quite used to Riyu, and he to me. I dare say there’s no point in forcing anyone else to deal with me, is there?” she asked briskly.

“Excellent. I must say, Vervain, I’m glad you’ve decided to be sensible,” the chancellor said, clearly relieved. “Well, that’s all, then. Carry on.”

Vervain hurried out the door, Riyu behind her. As soon as they were down the stairs and back outside, she turned to him. “You aren’t upset, are you? That you have to stay here, with me?”

He snorted. “Well, I cannot say that I was pleased with the suggestion that you be guarded by others, many of whom would no doubt be handsomer and more interesting than myself. But as that is no longer an issue, then, no, I am not upset at all. Why would you think otherwise?”

“I thought you might miss traveling with the troop,” she confessed. “That’s been your life for so long that, that…well, I assumed you would be leaving soon. I couldn’t bring myself to beg you to stay with me. It would have been unfair, and I love you too much to tie you down to one place, if that wasn’t what you wanted.”

Riyu stopped and gave her a look of disbelief, rain dripping from his long ears. “Vervain-ge, that is utterly ridiculous. If you had bothered to ask, I would have told you that I had no intention of leaving, whether the rest of the troop went or not.”

Despite the cold rain, a warm glow seemed to suffuse her. “Really?”

“Of course.”

“Oh. Well, then. I suppose we ought to look for a larger flat, shouldn’t we?”

“Yes. I think we should.”

Unable to contain herself any longer, she flung her arms around him. He laughed and hugged her back, lifting her easily off her feet, and they kissed in the midst of the falling rain.

~end~

Author’s Note

Thanks to everyone who donated, caught typos, bought the book, or just showed up week after week to follow me on this little experiment. You are all wonderful.

The site will remain up for a week, to give people a chance to catch up, at which time I’ll remove all content. As promised, a second edition thanking everyone who donated or caught typos will be issued. The Kindle version of that will be out this fall. As for other versions, they will appear, but possibly not as I’d first envisioned. I can’t really say anything more at the moment, but when I have news I will post it on my blog and in my newsletter.

Once again, thanks to you all. I hope you enjoyed the adventures of Vervain and Riyu!

Sincerely,

Elaine Corvidae

7/11/12

The wind had carried the flames beyond the palace, and part of the city was now burning as well. Confusion and panic reigned, and it was easy enough to overpower a man driving a beer cart and steal his transportation, leaving him cursing them from the side of the street, the barrels of his ale neatly stacked beside him. They laid Amethyst on their cloaks in the bed of the cart, and Briar sat by her, while Kiki walked alongside. Riyu insisted on sitting by Vervain while she drove, even though he looked as though he might collapse at any moment.

As with Benevalia, their own escape was covered by the havoc they had wreaked, and Vervain tiredly wondered how many innocent citizens of the city had suffered tonight thanks to Malachite’s greed and hubris. Despite the exhaustion and grief weighing down on her, she drove until well after sun-up, determined to get them as far as possible from the city. When it seemed that the draft horse could go no farther without a rest, they sought shelter in a sprawling vineyard. It was too late in the year for much work to be going on in the fields, so they weren’t likely to be disturbed.

And if nothing else, after that fire, Icci’s guard should be too disorganized to chase us down. At least for today. A column of smoke still stained the horizon, and she wondered tiredly if any part of the city remained standing.

Amethyst’s wounds had been tended while they moved; once they camped, Kiki saw to Riyu. Once the blood was washed off, he didn’t look quite so frightful, but Vervain found it hard not to stare at the missing ear-tip.

They had no food and no supplies, so Kiki, Briar, and Amethyst simply curled up and fell into an exhausted sleep. Despite her own weariness, Vervain walked to a spot that overlooked the road and sat down to keep watch. A short time later, Riyu joined her.

Black bruises ringed her throat, making speech painful, but Vervain forced the words out anyway. “Well. This was certainly a disaster.”

Riyu put his arm around her shoulders, drawing her to his side. “I disagree.”

“How can you say that?” Tears welled in her eyes. “I just…gods, I’ve been so stupid! Hawthorne a-and Tourmaline died trying to save Malachite, and he didn’t even need saving. He was a monster! All this has been for nothing!”

The tears came in earnest now. Riyu embraced her, one hand stroking her hair soothingly. “None of which is your fault,” he said, his breath stirring her hair. “You acted out of honor, out of true concern for someone you believed to be in terrible danger. Malachite’s treachery belongs only to himself, not to you, or to any of us who chose to make the attempt with you.”

“It’s a cold comfort, Riyu.”

“I have not yet finished, my heart. Consider this: how many clickers might he have made, had we not come to stop him? How many poor souls like Hawthorne might have been tortured and twisted? How many more abominations unleashed upon the land? It was worth a great deal to put an end to such horror, I think.”

“Y-you’re right, I suppose. And between the fire and Malachite’s death, Icci shouldn’t be able to reconstruct the calculating golem and use it against us.” Still sniffling, she drew away and took off her spectacles, which were wet with tears.

He watched her clean them, a sad look on his face. “I am very sorry that Malachite betrayed you,” he said at last.

“It’s hardly your fault. I can’t believe I never realized, never even suspected, that he was behind it all.” She shook her head unhappily. “I knew he liked living in comfort, and I knew that the constraints on our work sometimes upset him, but I never imagined that he harbored such resentment. I keep thinking there must have been some clue that I missed, something I could have seen that would have prevented everything.”

“It is never easy to divine the secrets others hold in their deepest hearts.” Riyu shook his head, earrings chiming softly. “You could drive yourself mad, analyzing every word he ever spoke, every move he ever made. Bihai did not suspect. Yes, he did not know Malachite as you did, but I still must believe that if there had been anything overtly suspicious, he would have noticed. Put down this burden of guilt, Vervain-ge. It is not yours to carry.”

“It’s hard,” she whispered.

“I know.” He touched her face, catching a lingering tear on one blunt claw. “I hate seeing you in pain, my heart. Had I known beforehand…I might have been tempted off the warrior’s path and killed Malachite out of anger.”

A little to her own surprise, she found herself smiling at that. “Just as well, then. I am very, very glad to have you here with me now, you know.”

“I am glad to be here with you.” He took her hand in his, and she saw that one of his claws had been broken off below the quick during the fight.

She laughed weakly. “Bold words, considering that we’ve got no food, no extra clothes, no supplies, and a long way to go back to Giavolo.”

“Perhaps. But those things can be overcome, given the one thing we do have.”

“What’s that?”

He arched a brow at her. “We have one another, Vervain-ge.”

His words swelled in her heart, despite everything. Sliding her arm around his waist, she leaned her head against his shoulder. “Yes. We do at that.”

—

Enjoying the story so far? Don’t forget, if you want to read ahead, the entire novel is currently available in Kindle, Nook, and other ebook formats for only $2.99. Or, if reading on dead trees is more your thing, you can also get it in trade paperback.

There came the sound of snapping wood, and branches and leaves slashed across Vervain’s face and legs. She heard Riyu grunt and felt their fall slow infinitesimally, the trees cushioning them.

It still hurt when they slammed into the ground. Vervain’s chin snapped off Riyu’s breastplate, and she tasted blood. She shoved herself to her hands and knees, dimly aware that her spectacles were askew and that something warm was dripping down her face and arm. “Riyu? Riyu!”

He lay sprawled, his eyes closed, his face scored with scratches from the branches, and for a moment she was certain he had been killed. Then he blinked slowly, his eyes focusing on her face.

“That…was not something I would care to do again,” he managed to gasp. “Vervain-ge? Briar-gu? Are you well?”

“Yes,” Briar said shakily. “But…where are we?”

Vervain had to use the trunk of the nearest tree to steady herself, so badly were her limbs trembling. Screams and shouted orders echoed through what seemed like a small orchard. Flames lit up the sky nearby, and through the trees she glimpsed a building that must have been the palace. One of its spires was missing now, and the fire had spread to the main structure, rapidly turning it into a towering conflagration.

Gods…Tourmaline…and the Dreamer…did Kiki and Amethyst manage to get clear?

Something moved nearby, and Vervain spun, only to find Kiki limping toward her. The young orc carried Amethyst, whose skirts were soaked in blood. Vervain hurried to them, and saw that Kiki had already bound the wound on Amethyst’s leg.

“A branch got me,” Amethyst said in response to Vervain’s worried look. “It hurts, but I’ll live. Tourmaline…” Tears gathered in her eyes.

“He died a warrior’s death,” Riyu said. He’d managed to get to his feet, even though he moved like an old man.

“Aunt Vervain, where are we?” Briar asked again.

Vervain looked around. The waters of a reflecting pool caught the firelight nearby, and the trees were interspersed with paths and marble benches. “We must be in the prince’s gardens. I suspect the only reason no one has found us yet is that the…the crash…was spectacular enough that no one noticed us jumping off. Now, of course, they’ll be busy with the fire.” She turned back to Riyu, wondering if he could even walk, let alone fight. “Assuming that Malachite hasn’t been killed in the disaster, perhaps we can take advantage of the confusion to sneak inside and find him.”

“There’s no need for that, Vervain,” said Malachite’s voice.

Startled, she turned and saw a familiar shape standing near the reflecting pool. Relief washed over her—after all this time, after so much blood and pain and death, they had managed to find her partner.

Or rather, he had managed to find them. “Thank the gods!” she exclaimed. “I assume the fire allowed you to escape unnoticed? Do you know a way out of here that we might use? Perhaps we can steal a boat, while everyone is distracted.”

She started toward him, but Riyu was there suddenly, grabbing her arm and pulling her to a stop. Confused, she glanced up and saw that he watched Malachite with narrowed eyes, his ears flattened back against his hair. “Riyu? What are you doing?”

Riyu didn’t answer her, instead speaking to Malachite. “Your captivity has not been harsh, I see.”

The flames continued to spread rapidly; Vervain could see Malachite’s face and clothing more clearly now in their ruddy light. Sumptuous fabrics made up his cape and doublet. A large necklace of gold and jewels hung about his shoulders, and rings encrusted his fingers. At the very least, the jewelry seemed an odd thing to bestow on a captive who had been taken wearing the robe of a university master. A bit self-consciously, he lifted a hand and straightened his collar, and she saw that he wore a strange metal glove whose design reminded her disturbingly of the clickers.

“Malachite?” she said cautiously. “I don’t understand. What does this mean?”

“It all makes sense now,” Riyu said, still speaking to Malachite. “I only curse myself for not seeing it before. This explains why the corridor formed inside the lab. Why Bihai was killed, why you were the only one captured. Why, before the attack on the university, you insisted on posting a written message instead of sending a squeaker, so that Bihai would not know that you were communicating with allies in Icci. You have been behind this from the start. You are Brighthand.”

It was ridiculous…and yet, Malachite looked only shocked, not outraged, as if he’d seen a pig stand up and talk. “I didn’t realize orcs had so much base cunning,” he said at last.

“You needed Vervain-naga to die, so that no one else would know how to make the calculating golem,” Riyu went on, ignoring the comment. “To secure your place here.”

Vervain felt as though she had been punched in the gut. A part of her didn’t want to believe it, but Riyu’s explanation made a horrible kind of sense. “But…there was blood, Malachite’s blood, in the lab. There had been a fight.”

Malachite’s expression soured. “That damnable orc. Once he realized what was happening, he actually tried to stop me.”

“No.” I can’t believe this. How could I have been so wrong about everything? “It can’t be true.”

He had the grace to look slightly abashed. “I’m sorry, Vervain. It wasn’t personal, you know. It’s not as if I wanted you to die. I just didn’t have a choice.”

“But—you—why?” she stammered.

Perhaps their long history of working together allowed him to piece together what she was trying to ask. “I didn’t want to, Vervain, but you know how it is! The damned university paid us a pittance. I was never appreciated—we were never appreciated! We should have been treated with respect, but instead we spent our days fighting Tulip over every minor expenditure. When we weren’t doing that, we were wasting our time on a bunch of young idiots with nothing but cotton between their ears. You were forced to live in that tiny flat, and I…it was hard, keeping up appearances. I deserved better; we both did!”

“Forgive me if I find it hard to give much credence to your protests of concern for me,” Vervain said. “Attempts on one’s life will do that.”

Malachite blanched, but his expression hardened. “You’ve no one to blame but yourself, Vervain. If I’d thought you would have agree to join us, of course I would have asked you! When Prince Cobalt’s agents approached me, they wanted you as well! But I knew you were too damned stiff-necked and hidebound to even consider switching your allegiance to Icci.”

“A situation that did not apply to you, obviously.”

Malachite stared at his gauntleted hand, like a child trying to find an excuse for his misbehavior. “Icci has suffered, as I have suffered. They were Giavolo’s allies only because they had been defeated and forced to pay tribute—a humiliating situation. Most of their battlemages had been killed in the last war; they had only two left. They needed someone like me, someone who could help them reclaim their glory. In return, they would honor me for my service, something Giavolo never did!”

It was all becoming horribly clear. “So in exchange for comfort and fame, you built the clickers.”

“I had the design in mind for years, but I knew that neither Giavolo’s prince or the grand duke would agree to build them—”

“Because they’re abominations!” Vervain shouted, and felt a savage rush of satisfaction when he looked taken aback. “You created monstrosities, and when it was time for you to leave, you unleashed them on innocent students who couldn’t fight back! You tried to kill me—me, your partner, the only person stupid enough to try to save you!”

“Yes, well, I must admit that when Diamond reported you had left Giavolo and were on the road, it made my task much easier. He and the clickers, as you call them, had been on their way to Giavolo to find you, when you strolled into the very inn where he was staying to get provisions! I couldn’t believe the luck!”

“I take it he was the battlemage I killed.” Dimly, Vervain was aware of the orcs and Amethyst taking up defensive postures around her, but she couldn’t spare any attention for them. A soft clicking sound came from every side, and she thought she caught the gleam of brass in the firelight. “And the other died to make the corridor, to bring the master who might be able to save Icci.”

Malachite frowned. “Diamond is dead, then?”

Vervain ignored him. “So Diamond came for us on the road, and when he couldn’t get to me, he kidnapped Hawthorne.” Cold rage poured through her now, sweeping away the last shreds of shock and doubt. “Hawthorne, a student that you knew, not some faceless victim.”

“Except for him, only condemned criminals go into the clickers, I assure you!” As if that made it better.

“You took Hawthorne, and you tortured him, and when you were done, you turned him into a weapon to kill me. Because you knew that I would recognize him, that I would hesitate to strike, and so give him the opening he needed.”

Malachite winced. “Well, yes. But it didn’t work, did it?”

“Only because he was a better man than you; only because he could use his training to resist the compulsion you put on him!” Vervain shouted, even as she eased her enchanted dagger from its sheath, keeping it hidden in her skirts.

Malachite’s face turned ugly. “Gods! This is one thing I won’t miss about you, Vervain! Always so certain, always so assured, always so self-righteous! Look at what you’ve done! You’ve ruined the palace, probably killed scores of innocent people with your stupid airship. It was only luck that my avians were in the sky tonight, or else the gods know what mischief you would have caused. You’ve done your best to wreck my position here—if the prince survives, I’ll have to answer to him, and if he doesn’t, I’ll have to answer to the city council! But perhaps they’ll be happier if I bring them your head.”

Vervain didn’t hesitate, only brought up the dagger and made a throwing motion, straight at Malachite.

A glowing copy of the blade sliced through the air, its course guided by her will, aiming for her former partner’s heart. He spoke an incantation and raised the hand wearing the gauntlet. Blue light danced across the metallic glove, and the knife stopped as if it had hit a wall, then fell to the ground.

“You like it?” he asked, holding up the gauntlet. “A design of my own, and it can do much, much more!”

The clickers charged. Vervain heard the battle cries of the orcs and a shout from Amethyst, but she couldn’t spare any attention for them. She threw four more sorcerous knives in quick succession; Malachite managed to deflect three, but the fourth sliced shallowly across the juncture of shoulder and neck, jarring off his collarbone. Then the crystals strung on gold wire cracked, their magic gone, and her weapon was nothing more than a normal blade.

“Good try, Vervain,” Malachite snarled, his face utterly mad. “But not good enough.”

She used the silver-bladed knife to sketch a fast circle in the air in front of her; his spell struck it and was absorbed. Panting, praying that she wasn’t about to get them all killed, Vervain once again opened the door into the dimension of fire, calling salamanders to her. She didn’t have time to concentrate, but a few young ones appeared before the gate collapsed, arrowing gleefully toward Malachite.

Malachite gestured at the reflecting pool, and light flashed from his gauntlet to the water. It rose up in a great wave, drowning the salamanders and rushing at Vervain. It struck her like a solid wall, slamming her to the ground, and she heard Riyu roar her name.

“I’m all right; stop the clickers!” she managed to scream, but Malachite seized on her one moment of inattention.

The ground around her seethed, and suddenly the roots of the trees burst free, wrapping around her wrists and body with crushing strength. Riyu appeared, hacking frantically at them with his sword. A clicker cannoned into his back, knocking him away. Kiki shrieked his name, and fire burst into being somewhere nearby. A moment later, Kiki ran toward Riyu, while a flaming clicker charged through the orchard, spreading the conflagration everywhere it went.

The bones in Vervain’s wrist ground together, and she knew the roots would crush her to a pulp if she didn’t do something. Calling on all her mage-trained ability, she forced her mind to calm and visualized the spell circle that would end Malachite’s control over the roots. It rose up, nothing but faint light, far less effective than one drawn in chalk, and she swore when she realized that it wouldn’t be enough.

Then Malachite let out a cry of pain. The roots relaxed as his concentration broke, and Vervain tore herself free, rolling over and onto her feet. To her shock, she saw Amethyst clinging to a tree, barely upright, one hand outstretched toward Malachite and spell words spilling from her lips.

He made a slashing motion with his gloved hand. Light streamed from the gauntlet’s fingers, arcing across Amethyst, who cried out and crumpled to the ground. “Stupid girl!” he shouted.

A clicker appeared, heading for Amethyst’s helpless body. With a wail of despair, Kiki ran to intercept it; Riyu lay unmoving on the ground. “No!” Vervain shouted, but her voice sounded oddly far away.

A wild laugh cut across air filling with smoke. Malachite drew closer, his face lit by the flames spread by the dying clicker, his thinning hair flying in the hot wind. “Give up, Vervain! You can’t really expect to win! You can’t ever have expected to win—dear gods, look at what you had to help you! A pair of orcs, no better than animals, and a student—and not even a good one at that. There’s no hope for you, so stop making things so damned hard on yourself.”

A rock struck the side of Malachite’s head, and he staggered. To Vervain’s horror, she saw Briar peering around the trunk of a tree. His face was white with terror, but he had already scooped up another marble chip from the path and held it ready to throw.

“Get down!” she ordered, and launched herself at Malachite, knowing only that she had to protect Briar.

Metal-clad fingers closed around her throat, and she found herself shoved to her knees, staring up into Malachite’s fury-twisted features. The gauntlet felt warm against her skin, and she could hear the soft whir of gears and see faint sparks in the depths of the jewels scattered at critical junctures. Then his hand tightened, cutting off her breath, and she scrabbled frantically against unyielding metal.

“This is it, Vervain,” Malachite said. “The end. I’m done playing with you. I’m going to tear your head off and carry it to the prince myself.”

Bright lights flashed in her vision, and her lungs screamed for air, but the gauntlet was far more relentless than a human hand. Pain spiked in her throat, and everything was getting darker and darker…

A blade flashed, and Malachite let out a startled scream. He jerked back, letting go of her. Vervain fell to the ground, gasping and choking. As air flooded her lungs, she saw that Riyu knelt beside Malachite, his short sword buried to the hilt in the sorcerer’s lower back. Malachite made a strange, agonized sound, and the gauntlet swung around toward Riyu, fingers starting to glow with light in one last attempt to defend its master.

Vervain found the glass vial at her belt, miraculously unbroken, and hurled it straight into Malachite’s face.

The vial exploded, spilling liquid fire down his head and body. Malachite screamed, the sound barely human in its agony. His body flailed so hard that he tore Riyu’s sword from the orc’s grasp. In a last vestige of coherent thought, he stumbled toward the reflecting pool. For a moment, he stood on the edge, burning so bright that he was visible even against the flames of the palace…then he tumbled in.

Vervain dragged herself to the edge of the pool and looked down. The water was all gone, of course; Malachite had used it as a weapon against her, and there was nothing left to extinguish the flames devouring his body. Of her former partner, only an unmoving shape remained, sprawled against marble starting to crack from the heat.

“Vervain-ge,” Riyu said, and she turned hastily to him. He looked horrible: covered in blood, the tip of one ear missing where a clicker had bitten it off. “Are you all right?”

She flung her arms around him. Her throat still didn’t want to work quite right, but she managed to croak, “I thought he was going to kill you.”

Briar hunched down by them, clinging awkwardly to his crutch. “Aunt Vervain? What are we to do now?”

Vervain looked up. Three clickers lay dead; the one that had been on fire had vanished after setting half the orchard ablaze. The smoke was getting thicker and thicker, and sparks filled the air like demented fireflies. Kiki sat on the ground by Amethyst, who was conscious, although obviously injured.

“Now we get out of here,” Vervain said.

—

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“Yes?” she called, fumbling her glasses on.

Kiki’s voice came through the door, muffled by the thick oak. “Vervain-naga? Riyu-ga? It’s sundown.”

“Very well. Thank you, Kiki. We’ll be up directly.”

“No need to rush,” Kiki called impishly.

Vervain glanced down to find Riyu watching her from his position on the floor. A faint smile quirked the corner of her mouth. “You look at me like I’m beautiful.”

Unexpectedly, he seemed to consider her words. “There are some orcs who find humans exotic,” he said. “The pink or brown skin, the flat faces, the slight stature, the milk teeth: these things are very odd to us, and some find the alien to be erotic by its very nature. But I was never one of them, to be honest.”

“Hmph. You should stop with the compliments before they go to my head.”

He laughed and took her hand. “Forgive me, Vervain-ge. It is simply that I never thought about human attractiveness one way or the other, until I met you. They say that we see as much with the heart as with the eyes, and perhaps this is true. Or perhaps it is simply that, having spent so much time with you, all of the things that would otherwise seem strange have become familiar. Either way, I find you very beautiful.”

“I see. That makes sense, I suppose. After all, you are a great deal, er, brawnier than the type I normally find myself attracted to. Not to mention greener.”

That seemed to amuse him; he drew her down to nuzzle her neck, which seemed the orcish equivalent of a kiss. Reluctantly, she pulled away and found her dress. “I had best go up on deck.”

“I will join you, as soon as I put on my armor.”

The icy wind slapped her in the face as soon as she climbed out of the hatch, tangling her hair and searing her skin. Swearing silently, Vervain pulled the blanket she used as a cloak closer about her shoulders. The last rays of the sun had vanished, and she saw that the cloud cover beneath them was in the process of thinning and breaking up. Briar sat at the prow, staring out, and Tourmaline and Kiki stood talking with Amethyst, who was at the wheel.

“Do we know where we are?” Vervain asked, approaching them.

Amethyst hesitated as she stepped away from the wheel. “I thought I saw the ocean through a break in the clouds, Mistress.”

“That should be the case. Keep a sharp eye out.” Vervain settled her hands on the ancient wood of the wheel. “I’ll take us lower.”

The last dying light of the sun caught the balloon as they drifted through the damp clouds. Tourmaline called out landmarks from starboard, while Briar marked them from the port side. Eyeing the map at her feet, Vervain nodded. “We appear to be where we hoped. Excellent work, Amethyst.”

Her student flushed, but a pleased smile touched her face. “Thank you, Mistress.”

Full night came on, lit only by starlight and the waxing moon. Phosphorescence flashed in the waves as they broke against the shore far below. This stretch of coastline was rocky and not much used for regular shipping, although Vervain caught sight of lights that might belong to a smuggler’s vessel. To the south shone the lighthouse that stood off Icci’s coast, drawing ships to the safety of the island’s harbor. The lighthouse would act as a beacon for them as well, although they would have to be careful not to get too close, lest they be spotted.

There was little talk as they drew closer to their goal. Riyu and Kiki stood near the railing, no doubt discussing how they might best protect the party. Tourmaline sat on a coil of rope and watched Vervain steer. Amethyst went below for a while, then returned, and Vervain took the opportunity to go back down and arm herself with everything she had prepared. When she came back, she passed out vials to Riyu, Tourmaline, and Kiki.

“This one holds liquid fire. Don’t confuse it with anything else, and whatever you do, don’t break it on your person,” she told them. Tourmaline blanched at the thought. “This one is fog in a bottle. Open the stopper and mist will come out, obscuring you. I thought it might help us, should we need stealth. In as much as a sudden bank of fog won’t rouse suspicion, anyway.”

Riyu accepted his bottle from her gravely. “Useful, but I thought weather-working was forbidden.”

“On larger scales, yes. If I wanted to blanket the entire city in fog, it would mean cooling off the air around the whole island and potentially causing a large shift in the weather around it, which in return would have yet more consequences. A highly-localized bit of fog that lasts only a few minutes, on the other hand, shouldn’t cause much of a change.” She shrugged at his look. “Yes, I’m drawing close to the line of what’s allowed, but I haven’t yet put more than a toe over it.”

The lighthouse grew slowly closer, and the black bulk of the island itself came into view. The roar of waves on the rocks grew louder and louder, and the lights of the city appeared beyond the defensive walls. “That will be the palace,” Vervain said, indicating the most brightly lit area. “We’ll want to put in on the opposite side of the island, well away from the lights. If I recall correctly, that would be where the vineyards are located. The fields will give us the opportunity to come in quietly and avoid detection.”

As the island neared and the sound of breaking waves grew louder, Vervain went to stand in the prow beside Briar. She could feel her heart pounding against her ribs, and she silently prayed that she was doing the right thing. There is so much that could go wrong.

“I wish I could go with you,” Briar said unhappily.

She put a hand to his bony shoulder. “I’m sorry. You know that it’s impossible.”

“Because you need to move quickly, and I’d just slow you down,” he said bitterly.

“We will be relying on you and Amethyst to get us out safely, once we have Malachite back. Your role is hardly unimportant.”

He shrugged, and she sighed mentally. “Riyu was right. We are a great deal alike, you and I.”

Briar glanced up, an unwilling grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “He said that?”

“Yes. I—” She stopped abruptly, frowning out at the distance. “What was that?”

“What?” Briar asked, peering out.

“I thought I saw a flash near the lighthouse, as if the light had glinted off something metallic.”

“A ship?” Briar suggested uneasily.

“No. This was airborne.” Even as she watched, two more bright flashes appeared, as something caught the light. From nearby, there came an odd whistling, as of wind passing over a hard edge, accompanied by a clicking that was impossible in its horrible familiarity.

“Riyu!” Vervain shouted, scrambling in her pouches for flash powder, “Clickers! In the air!”

Her fingers found what she sought, and she hurled a handful into the air, shouting out an incantation. An enormous burst of light went off, blinding as a lightning strike, illuminating the three shapes tearing toward them on the wind.

If the clickers they had faced before had been evil parodies of canids, these mocked the avian form. The outstretched wings were like those of bats, and Vervain felt certain it was human skin spanning the metallic fingers. Human eyes swiveled wildly on wires, and cruel iron beaks poised to rend. The tails lashing behind them were serpentine, and their feet tipped with razor-like talons.

The balloon. Naverra, save us!

Kiki leapt into the rigging, a throwing knife in her hand as she fixed on the position of the bird-like clickers, but they were still too far away to hit. Vervain swore helplessly and wondered why it had never occurred to any of them to pack a bow and arrows.

“Amethyst, help defend the ship!” Tourmaline shouted. “I’ve been watching you and Mistress Vervain, and I’m certain I can steer!”

Vervain gritted her teeth and sincerely hoped that Tourmaline was correct in his assessment. Amethyst ran to her side, and she thrust a spare pouch of obliterating powder at her student. “They aren’t aerodynamic—it’s magic alone holding them up, so if we can disrupt the spells on even one of the wings, they’ll be done for.”

Amethyst nodded, grabbed the pouch, and ran for the rigging herself, climbing into it to give her a better vantage point. Riyu had materialized unnoticed at Vervain’s shoulder. To her surprise, he was holding one of the rope hammocks, and she wondered when he had dashed below to get it. Before she could ask him what he meant to do, the first clicker was on them.

Vervain chanted the words to awaken the spell circle inlaid near the prow. The magic flared at her command, and she channeled it up and through the bowsprit. Static crackled around her, dancing from the frames of her spectacles to the metal circle and back, but she held the lightning until the oncoming clicker was nearly upon them.

Lightning burst out from the bowsprit, accompanied by the stupendous crash of thunder. The clicker swerved but didn’t go down, although the smell of burning skin drifted briefly on the wind.

Damn it!

The second came in on the heels of the first, having altered direction to attack from the side. Kiki threw her knife, but it bounced off the metallic body, eliciting an orcish curse. The creature swerved, and Vervain’s second round of lightning came an instant too slow, arcing through the air just behind the flying clicker. Before she could gather another spell, it whipped over the deck, its cruel beak severing three of the ropes holding the balloon to the hull.

Ominous creaking sounds came from the remaining ropes, and the ship lurched. “We aren’t going to make it to the vineyards!” Tourmaline shouted. “I’m going to aim for the city, and hope we can disappear into the populace!”

Amethyst began to chant an incantation; as the clicker cut dangerously close to where she hung from the rigging, she tossed a handful of obliterating powder on it. There was a flash, and the clicker wobbled wildly as it cleared the deck, but it didn’t crash.

The first clicker was coming back around; as it passed near the hull, Riyu hurled the hammock at it. The knotted ropes acted as a net, tangling its wings. It thrashed wildly, unable to maneuver, before plummeting toward the waves far below.

There was no time to relax, however; the second clicker had regained altitude and flew at them like an arrow, avoiding both Vervain’s and Amethyst’s spells. Kiki abandoned her position in the rigging, leaping like a squirrel through the air and catching one of the severed ropes in her free hand, even as she drew her short sword with the other. The rope swung her around sharply, and brought her directly into the path of the clicker.

There came a loud crash, the sword smashing through the meshwork body and cleaving the heart. At the same time, the blade itself succumbed to the force of the collision, snapping in two. The hilt was torn from Kiki’s grasp, and both halves went hurtling over the side, along with the dying clicker.

“Look out!” Riyu shouted.

To her horror, Vervain saw that they were rapidly losing altitude. The breaking waves passed under them and were gone; they were over land now, and approaching the city at a frightening speed. But that wasn’t what Riyu had been shouting about, she realized, as the radiance from the lighthouse fell across the ship.

The third clicker had finally intercepted them. It moved more slowly than the first two, and seemed far more bulky. As Vervain began the chant to wake the lightning, she saw its beak open, and realized that a small nozzle was set into its mouth.

Flame gushed out, spilling across the deck and igniting the rigging. Ordinary fire couldn’t have found purchase through the enchantments on the ship—this was spellfire, like that she had bottled. Even as her own enchantment found the clicker and blasted it from the air, she knew that it was too late.

“Abandon ship!” Tourmaline shouted. He looked like a madman, as he gripped the wheel: his face lit by the flames, his golden hair streaming out behind him, his lips pulled back in a wild grin. “We’ll see how they like a taste of their own fire rammed down their gullets!”

“No!” screamed Amethyst. “You can’t, you’ll be killed!”

They were lower than ever, a blazing comet lighting up the sky over Icci. The spires of the palace rose up, so conveniently lit brighter than the rest of the city, and Vervain realized that Tourmaline meant to turn the burning wreck of the Dreamer into a weapon.

“You idiot! Amethyst is right! We have to jump, or—” she didn’t know what, exactly, but there must be some way, even though the fire was catching on the balloon, turning it into an enormous, flaming blanket that slowly collapsed down toward them…

“Go!” Tourmaline shouted.

Something heavy struck Vervain, and she found herself tucked under Riyu’s arm as he ran full-tilt down the fiery deck. Without slowing, he snatched up Briar under his other arm, sprang to the railing—and jumped.

—

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Briar, Kiki, and Tourmaline all retreated to the hammock room. Not wanting to keep them awake, Vervain went to what had been the captain’s cabin, spreading all of her mystical supplies around her.

Rather than sleep comfortably in a hammock, Riyu insisted on following her to the cabin. “Considering the circumstances, I think it highly unlikely that I am in danger of attack,” she pointed out as she began to sort through her supplies.

He shrugged, an easy motion of muscle and armor. “Given the danger we are going into, I would prefer to spend the time with you. Even if it is, as you say, exceedingly unlikely that you will be in need of a bodyguard.”

The words made her feel as though some part of her softened, like wax left in sunlight on a summer’s day. “Oh. I…well, yes, of course, then. Please, stay.”

He sat in the corner while she worked, sharpening his swords and checking his armor carefully for damage. She wanted, desperately, to delay the task before her, to take refuge in his arms and sleep for a while in the safety of his embrace.

There’s not enough time, she told herself, as she cautiously transferred ingredients into a vial and traced runes on the outside in ink.

There never will be. One of us could die. Both of us could die. I don’t want to lose this. I want…

She took a deep breath against the sudden tightening in her chest. Damn Malachite for getting himself kidnapped. If he’d just been able to get away before the clickers had taken him back through the magical corridor, they’d all be in Giavolo now, safe and sound. Hawthorne would be alive, and she wouldn’t be terrified that she might lose anyone else she cared about.

“Is something wrong?” Riyu asked. His hands had stilled on the armor, and his dark eyes fixed on her.

She stared back at him, wanting suddenly to memorize his features, from the broad flare of cheekbone to the delicate curve of a tusk over lip. The orblight caught in the beads in his hair and chased sparks along the rows of gold hoops in his ears.

“N-no. No.” She turned resolutely back to the vials. “Just pre-battle jitters, I suppose. Nothing to be concerned about.”

“I am always concerned about you, Vervain-ge. We are attempting something very dangerous. It is natural to be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid of dying.” She wound gold wire strung with crystal around the hilt of a silver-bladed knife, laid it on the floor, and began to sketch a chalk circle around it. “That is, I want to live, obviously. But I’m more afraid of other people dying.”

“Yet your death is what I dread above all else,” he said heavily.

He did not, she noticed, suggest they turn back. That was very much like him, to understand that she had chosen her course and would not turn from it. “If you thought I was making the wrong decision, you would tell me, wouldn’t you?” she asked, suddenly worried. “You don’t go along with all these mad schemes of mine just because you swore your service to me?”

He snorted. “You know better than that, Vervain-ge.”

“Yes, you’re right. I didn’t mean to insult you.”

“I am not offended, if only because I understand what prompted you to ask. If you doubt this course, now would be a good time to say something.”

She sighed. “I just don’t see any other way. They’ve already killed Hawthorne; I can’t let them kill Malachite as well, not when I have the power to save him. Not when there is no one else to do it for me.”

Riyu tightened a strap, frowning at it slightly. “For what it may be worth, I do not see another way, either. Not if we are to rescue your partner.”

It felt good to know that he agreed with her reasoning. “It’s worth a great deal. Thank you.”

He glanced up from his work and gave her a smile that warmed her all the way down to her toes. “You are welcome, my heart.”

—

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Despite the cold, everyone came onto the deck for the war council. Vervain took the time to show Amethyst how to steer the ship. “After sundown, we’ll drop below the clouds and check, to make certain that we’re where we think we are,” she said.

“How long is it going to take to get to Icci?” Amethyst asked.

“Based on entries in the logbook and my own observations of our speed last night, I calculate that we should reach the city by midnight.”

“Amazing,” Tourmaline said in awe. “How fast we must be going!”

“The ability to go in a straight line counts for a great deal as well.” Vervain sat on the deck beside the map and pointed at the dot representing Icci. “It would make a certain amount of sense to approach from the sea.”

“Even so, they’ll surely see a flying vessel headed straight at them.”

“No doubt.” Vervain scowled and tapped the map absently with a fingernail.

“It would help if we knew where Malachite is being held,” Riyu observed. He came and knelt in front of her, blocking some of the wind that whipped her hair about her face. She glanced up and gave him a small smile of thanks for his gallantry.

“My guess is that he’s in the palace,” Vervain said, pushing her half-moon spectacles more firmly onto her nose. “The notes we recovered from Jet’s desk make it clear that this goes all the way to the top. I have no doubt that Prince Cobalt is up to his eyeballs in this scheme, given that they have attacked both Giavolo and Benevalia now.”

“So how are we going to get into the palace?” Tourmaline asked with a worried frown.

“I’m not entirely certain. I think our best course of action would be to come in under cover of night, drop some of us off, and then move the Dreamer out of sight. Those of us on foot will assess the situation and try to find a way into the palace. We will set up a magical method of signaling beforehand, which will recall whoever stays with the Dreamer, so we can make a hasty escape if needed.”

Riyu’s dark gaze moved from the map to her face. “I suppose there is no chance of convincing you to remain on board the Dreamer?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Riyu. Amethyst and Briar will stay with the ship, and the rest of us will attempt to penetrate the palace.”

“I want to go with you, Mistress!” Amethyst objected. “Don’t leave me behind. I can help, you know I can.”

Vervain pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. “Although I’m quite certain Briar could learn to fly the ship easily enough, what if he has to come save us in the midst of a battle? No matter how quick a learner he might be, he cannot become a trained sorcerer in the space of a few hours. That is why you will be staying with the ship, Amethyst.”

Amethyst looked rebellious, but, after a moment of obvious struggle, seemed to realize that there was no reasonable objection to be made. With a sigh, she went back to steering the ship.

Riyu frowned at the map. “As you are aware, I remember our discussion of airships that day in your flat. You said then that they had fallen out of use because they made tempting targets. Will Icci then not have some sort of defenses set up against an approach from the air?”

It seemed impossibly odd to think that, while she’d been prattling on about airships, he’d been quietly falling in love with her. Telling herself that this was no time to get distracted by sentiment, she said, “I think not. There have been no airships in the skies since before I was born, and magical defenses are expensive to maintain. I know that, in Giavolo at least, the sky cannons were removed from the walls forty years ago, their components recycled into other weapons. I am hoping, most sincerely, that the same is true of Icci.”

Riyu nodded, obviously considering. “So their defenses will be turned toward land.”

“And the sea, yes.” Vervain rose to her feet, wincing as her knees creaked. “Now, if that is settled, I suggest those who can sleep should do so. We may find ourselves short of rest very soon, so best to take advantage of the opportunity. Amethyst, if you would continue steering for now, I will return before sunset and take over. As for me, I will do my best to put together as many magical defenses as I can think of ahead of time. The liquid fire worked well against…against the clicker in Benevalia, and it is easily stored and transported, so I will create enough for everyone going into Icci to carry at least one vial.”

“You need sleep as well, Vervain-ge,” Riyu reminded her.

“If there’s time.” Vervain started for the hatch. As she did so, Tourmaline stepped past her and motioned to Riyu.

“A word, if you will,” he said.

Riyu gave Tourmaline his most inscrutable look, accompanied by the briefest of nods. They started for the prow; a bit concerned that Tourmaline might try to push Riyu over the side, Vervain followed them at a distance.

They stopped at the rail, and the wind carried Tourmaline’s voice back to her, although she doubted he intended for her to overhear. “I wish to apologize.”

Riyu’s stoic expression gave way to one of surprise, his ears swiveling forward, as if not certain he’d heard Tourmaline’s words correctly. “Apologize?”

“Yes.” Tourmaline nervously smoothed non-existent wrinkles out of his doublet. “The words I said to you, when I saw you with Vervain…it shames me that I spoke them. I have no defense, other than genuine concern for Vervain. And, it might be admitted, a bit of jealousy. Still, those are not excuses for needlessly impugning your good name.”

Riyu didn’t seem inclined to be forgiving. “No, they are not.”

Tourmaline winced. “You are right to be angry. I…I have seen how you look at Vervain, especially when her attention is on something else. And how you attend to her comfort, when she will allow it. It seems clear that you care for her very dearly.”

“I believe the word you are searching for is ‘love.’”

“Yes.” Tourmaline said shortly, seeming a bit put out at Riyu’s lack of gracious forgiveness. “And I’m certain she loves you as well, despite what I said before. Vervain can be a bit thoughtless sometimes, the gods know, but I don’t believe she would be cruel enough to, er, lead you on simply out of curiosity.”

“Thank you for your concern,” Riyu said dryly.

“So, anyway. I wish to offer my apology, without reservation, and I hope that you will accept it. You’re a good, er, man, Riyu.” Tourmaline stuck out his hand. For a moment Vervain thought Riyu wouldn’t return the gesture, but then he reached out and clasped Tourmaline’s arm in return.

“Think on it no more.”

“That’s very decent of you,” Tourmaline said, with a little bow.

Vervain lingered near the hatch, pretending that she hadn’t heard anything, as Riyu made his way back to her. He arched a brow when he caught her eye, no doubt quite certain she had heard every word, so she did her best to look innocent. She doubted that it fooled him, but he said nothing as he pulled open the hatch and gestured for her to climb the ladder before him.

—

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As she’d spent most of the afternoon napping, she took the wheel, while everyone else went below decks to sleep. It was nice to have time alone with her thoughts, Vervain reflected, tugging the layers of blankets closer around her shoulders. The night was mild when one was standing on the ground, but aloft and buffeted by constant, biting wind, it was bitterly cold, and the exposed skin of her face and hands quickly went numb. The aviators of old had dressed more warmly, and Vervain cursed her failure to prepare.

Despite the wind, it was very peaceful. The ropes holding balloon and ship together creaked occasionally, and the salamander stirred once in a while, but otherwise everything was silent. Moonlight spread a silvery sheen over the ship, and starlight frosted the rigging and the vast shadow of the balloon above her.

The world spread out beneath the ship, and she checked position every once in a while on Riyu’s map, which he had pinned to the deck by her feet. Normal compasses didn’t work so close to magic, but the ship had two vanes: one to show the direction of the wind, the other enchanted to point unerringly at the north star. Once the sun rose, they would have to go higher or risk being spotted, but for now it seemed safe enough to fly within sight of landmarks. Even so, it was rather disorienting, seeing the world as a bird might.

The hatch creaked open, and Vervain expected Riyu to emerge. But the shape that appeared was smaller, its legs and spine twisted forever out of alignment. Briar put his crutch on the deck, then laboriously pulled himself out of the hatchway. Once he had his crutch and foot under him, he looked around, taking in the sight of the land so far below them, the distant fields, and the mountains far off on the very edge of vision.

“I have an extra blanket, for the cold,” Vervain called. Briar nodded and made his way to her, the crutch clunking loudly with every step. He didn’t look at her as he took the blanket and wrapped it awkwardly around himself.

Vervain had enough experience with reticent students to know that he wanted to speak, so she merely turned her attention to steering, giving him time to gather his thoughts. At last, he stirred and said, “Do you…do you think that they believe I’m—I mean, we’re—dead?”

“I don’t know,” she replied, having expected something like this. “They may have seen the airship come out of the barn, or emerge from the smoke once we were aloft. Or not. You could send a letter to your parents to let them know that you survived.”

“I…” He trailed off, looking at his feet. “I’m sorry, Aunt Vervain. It was all my fault. I wasn’t sure if Da had told the rest that I was leaving, but I wanted to say goodbye. I didn’t think that Ch-Chervil would…would…”

“Raise the countryside against us?” Vervain asked dryly. “Of course you didn’t. You cannot hold yourself responsible for your brother’s actions, anymore than I can be held responsible because he’s my nephew.”

“I just can’t believe he’d do it!” Briar burst out. “They would have killed you! They might have killed me! Then he has the nerve to accuse me of betraying the family!”

“And you’re worried that he was right.”

Briar froze, looking startled that she had guessed. “I…yes. What’s going to happen to them? If word gets out that Da helped you, that he let me go with you…who’s going to want to trade with him, or help raise the new barn in the spring? Pansy is supposed to get married next month—what if her betrothed’s family won’t let him go through with it now? All because of me!”

Vervain put an arm around his twisted shoulders. If his spine and legs had been straight, he would have been taller than her, but as it was, the top of his head only came to her shoulder. “I have two answers to that. One is that, if Chervil hadn’t drawn attention to us, we would likely have gotten away without anyone knowing. Yes, I understand that he felt he was saving you from evil, but that doesn’t negate the fact that he’s the one who made the entire affair into a public spectacle.

“The second is simply that you need to put blame where it belongs. Not with Hop, or you, but with Blanca Valley as a whole. You shouldn’t feel guilty because you refuse to bow to the wishes of a community that embraces ignorance instead of knowledge, that clings to superstition rather than seeking out truth. Because of one terrible event, they’ve turned away from everything that could have made their lives better. You’ve already suffered thanks to their close-mindedness—should you now give up the rest of your life, just to make them happy?”

“You heard what Chervil said about judgment—”

“Do you really believe that the gods hand out punishments for things we haven’t even done yet?” Vervain asked. “Anyway, as far as I have ever seen, they aren’t terribly concerned with the goings-on in the human world. I can’t imagine they’d afflict an innocent babe because he might grow up to do something that doesn’t meet with Chervil’s approval.”

Briar was silent for a while, thinking. Then he finally looked her in the face again. “I think you’re right.”

“Of course I am.” Vervain gave him an encouraging smile. “Look around you, Briar—you’re free! Admittedly, we’re heading straight for the stronghold of an enemy who wants to kill us all, but still, there is some cause for celebration.”

Briar grinned ruefully. “I think I’d rather face a city full of enemies than sit on the sidelines of another barn dance and know that nothing will ever change.”

“I quite understand.” She gave his shoulders a final squeeze and released him.

“I think I’d like to sit up in the prow and look out, if that’s permitted.”

“Of course.”

He started to turn away—then stopped, came back, and threw his arms around her. “Thanks, Aunt Vervain.”

Startled, she patted him awkwardly on the head. “You’re most welcome, Briar.”

The hatch swung open as Briar clunked away down the deck, and this time it was indeed Riyu who emerged. The wind caught his hair, and he pulled his cloak absently tighter, his eyes following Briar until the lad found a seat in the prow. Then, satisfied, he joined Vervain. “How is he doing?” he asked quietly, canting an ear in Briar’s direction.

“Well enough. Better than to be expected, perhaps.”

“I fear that I injured his pride this evening,” Riyu said unhappily. “But there was no time for anything else.”

“He’ll get over it. At the moment, he’s more worried about everyone that he’s leaving behind.”

Riyu settled down onto a coil of rope where he could watch Vervain as she steered. “You are much alike, I think.”

“The poor child.” Vervain waved away Riyu’s protest. “No, I suspect you’re right. If we survive this, he’ll make an excellent student.”

“There is that whole little matter of survival,” Riyu said, his ears dipping slightly.

“I know. We should have a council of war as soon as possible, so we can decide precisely what we will do when we reach Icci.” Vervain bit her lip, her mind already going over potential spells that might help them find Malachite. Assuming he’s still alive. Assuming they haven’t turned him into a clicker as well.

Stop that. Malachite isn’t Hawthorne. He was taken captive because Brighthand thought he’d be useful. They won’t kill or transform him until he gives them the secrets of the calculating golem—and he’s canny enough to know that. He’ll drag out the process as long as possible.

Riyu stood up and covered her hand with his own, smiling down at her. “We can discuss these things tomorrow, Vervain-ge. It will wait a few hours. For now…perhaps you should simply fly.”

Her heart swelled against her ribs, and she gazed out across the deck to the world beyond. This was what she had spent almost her entire life dreaming of, and even if tomorrow brought other concerns, Riyu was right. Everything else could wait.

“You know me so well,” she said with a rueful smile.

“Perhaps.” He bent over and nuzzled her hair. “It is a step on the warrior’s path to live within the moment, not to rush past it in haste to get to the next. To appreciate what is here before us, today. So, my heart, I will stand here and keep you warm, and you may fly the ship of your dreams.”

—

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So when, many hours later, he woke her with an urgent hiss, she found herself blinking in confusion. He’d pulled aside the blanket they’d put up over the windows and stood staring out, both ears swiveled forward. Although he was fully dressed, his armor still lay in a heap in one corner.

Her heart pounding, Vervain extracted herself from the twisted blankets. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I’m not certain. I thought I heard shouting.”

The breeze swung around at that moment, ruffling the trees outside. The faint sound of a scream came, audible even to Vervain’s ears.

“Stay here!” Riyu snatched up one of his swords, then charged out the door. As Vervain fumbled to drag her clothes back on, she heard his footsteps on the deck overhead. Ignoring his order, she followed after, hopping on one foot as she pulled on her shoes. By the time she reached the deck and started down the ladder, he had already disappeared outside.

Where is everyone? A quick glance around the barn showed that all of their companions, even Briar, had disappeared. Curse it!

Once outside, it was easier to hear the angry voices carried on the wind. The last light of the sun stained the western sky red, and the little wood was already dark, so Vervain tripped over roots and tangled in vines. Tearing free, she saw the flicker of torchlight mixed with the steady glow of orblight. Naverra’s eyes. We’ve been found out.

A ring of men and women encircled Amethyst, Kiki, Briar, and Tourmaline. All of the newcomers carried some sort of weapon, from deadly scythes to the heavy knives used for clearing brush. An older man who seemed vaguely familiar to Vervain stood pointing dramatically at the orb in Amethyst’s hands. At his side lurked Chervil, one of Hop’s sons.

Wonderful.

Briar glared furiously at his brother. “Chervil, you idiot! What have you done?”

“He has saved you from the path of evil,” the elder proclaimed grandly. “You allowed yourself to be taken in by the temptations of witchcraft, but thanks to Chervil’s piety, you can yet be saved.”

A hand closed around Vervain’s elbow, and she barely managed to stifle a scream. “What are you doing here?” Riyu whispered furiously. “I told you to stay on the ship!”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Please,” Amethyst said. “There’s nothing evil about the magical sciences. Let me show you—”

“Silence!” the elder roared. His eyes were wide with glee, and he looked rather maniacal, Vervain thought critically. “We are not ignorant—we know that witches cast their spells using their voices! These outsiders have come to Blanca Valley to destroy our children, beginning with poor Briar, but they will find that we are not helpless! Take the witch-girl and cut out her tongue!”

Kiki moved protectively in front of Amethyst, her sword a line of steel barring the way.

Riyu cast Vervain an agonized look, then apparently came to decision. Drawing his sword, he charged toward the circle, letting out a full-throated roar as he did so.

The farmers were blinded by their own torchlight; Riyu’s terrifying roar alone elicited screams, and when he barreled into the nearest men, knocking them to the ground, several simply dropped their makeshift weapons and fled.

Not all of them were so easily cowed, however. A young woman swung at Riyu with a scythe, and for a heart-stopping moment Vervain thought she would lop off his arm. He caught the blade on his sword, however, kicking out at the same time and catching his assailant in the stomach. She went down, and he hurled the scythe into the darkness.

Don’t just stand there gawping, Vervain!

Annoyed with herself, she raised her hands and whispered an incantation, at the same time drawing runes in the air that hung there, twisting and glowing. It looked, she hoped, very impressive.

“There! The mother viper, the one who has caused all this!” the elder shrieked, pointing at her. A couple of his followers charged at her; Vervain murmured another incantation, so that cool, blue flames cloaked her hands, running down her fingers and spilling in the grass. The wind caught her hair, tearing it back and turning it into a dark storm cloud.

Her would-be attackers stumbled to a halt, their eyes round with fear. Contempt surged through Vervain, and for a moment she wanted to invoke something more dangerous. They would have cut out Amethyst’s tongue and burned her to death, perhaps with everyone else. It would only be right if they burned instead…

It is not a step on the warrior’s path to strike out in anger.

I’m not a warrior, damn it.

“Leave now,” she said, “and I will spare your pathetic lives.”

They ran.

Amethyst held the glowing orb over her head, chanting a string of nonsensical words. Tourmaline and Kiki brandished their swords, and the elder fell back, glancing at his followers, who were quickly diminishing in number. “The gods will strike you down!” he shouted. “You think to escape righteous judgment, but—”

“Shut up,” Vervain said bluntly. “The gods have had thirty years to strike me down, but they don’t seem to be in any hurry, do they? Now leave, or I’ll show you exactly what I’m capable of doing.”

Chervil grabbed the elder’s arm, tugging on it. His eyes found Briar’s face, and a mixture of rage and pain distorted his features. “Damn you, Briar! How can you do this to our family, you useless, twisted freak! The gods made you a cripple out of judgment!”

Briar flinched, as though he had been punched. Tears slicked his face, and Vervain thought he was too angry to speak.

“Vervain-ge!” Riyu shouted, interrupting the moment. “Run, now, while we have the opportunity!”

The elder laughed. “Yes! Run! The entire valley will rise against you! You cannot escape!”

And indeed, Vervain saw that more torches had appeared in the distance. If they catch up with us, there will be a slaughter. We won’t have any choice. Kiki had already started running for the barn, followed by Amethyst and Tourmaline.

“Help Briar!” Vervain shouted at Riyu.

Chervil tried to block Riyu’s path, but was tossed aside as though he weighed no more than a child. Briar let out a shout of protest, which Riyu ignored, grabbing him bodily and tucking him beneath one arm. Knowing that Riyu wouldn’t leave without her, Vervain expedited matters by breaking into a run, and heard the jingle of earrings close behind her.

Flashes of orblight illuminated the wood as Amethyst worked her way to the barn. Shouts drifted on the wind, and to her horror, Vervain saw flames appear on the far side of the copse. “They’re going to fire the wood, and take us and the barn up with it!” she shouted.

“Then hurry!” Riyu suggested—not very helpfully, in Vervain’s opinion.

Smoke started to drift through the trees, stinging Vervain’s eyes and making her cough. She shoved her way through the entangling vines, reflecting that the overgrowth of brush would make the perfect fuel for the fire. Tourmaline waited near the barn entrance; he grabbed her arm and pulled her in through the open doors.

The air was clearer inside, but to her horror Vervain saw threads of smoke seeping through the cracks in the old stonework. Amethyst and Kiki had already climbed on board the Dreamer; Amethyst flung down Briar’s sling, and Riyu deposited him in it without ceremony. “I’m sorry, Aunt Vervain!” Briar said, twisting wildly in the sling as Kiki hauled him up. “I went home this afternoon—I just wanted to say good-bye—I didn’t think Chervil would follow me back!”

“Save the recriminations for later,” Vervain said, grabbing a rung of the rope ladder. “Riyu, you and Tourmaline stand by to free us from the tether ropes. As soon as the roof is open, cut the ropes—don’t bother with untying them, we haven’t got time—and get on board immediately. The Dreamer will go up like a cork in a pond, and I don’t want to have to come back down for anyone.”

As soon as she was aboard, Vervain rushed to the prow. “We have to get the roof open,” she said. “Amethyst, grab the chalk and attend me!”

Amethyst ran up with a bag of supplies. Vervain took up position, while Amethyst hurriedly sketched a circle around her, chanting as she did so.

This had better work. More smoke was seeping in now, and the ominous crack of heating stone told her that the fire had reached the side of the barn itself. Time was running out; if the spell failed or the servos jammed, they would face a very unpleasant death.

Vervain took a deep breath, drawing on decades of discipline to clear her mind. She could feel the power rising around her already, crackling with static. Now all she had to do was direct it at the mechanisms hidden in the beams.

Sketching a rune in the air, she spoke a word of power. Like some strange firefly, the rune shot off in the direction of the first servo, where it attached to a small jewel set in the housing. Working as quickly as she could, Vervain repeated the process, again and again. Smoke stung her throat and lungs, and only the willpower honed through all the years she had been a sorceress kept her from coughing and spoiling the words.

At last, the final rune sped off and found its place. Now we find out, she thought, and spoke a single word to activate them.

For a horrible moment, nothing happened. Then, with a slow grinding sound, like the hinges on the doors of heaven itself, the roof began to move.

The entire barn shuddered, and decades of accumulated dirt sifted down as the beams ratcheted back out of the way. A loose shingle tumbled to the floor, barely missing the port stabilizer, smashing into a thousand slate shards when it struck the floor.

“Now!” shouted Vervain. “Cut the tethers!”

A rope twanged as Riyu chopped through it with an axe. The Dreamer lurched violently, like a horse eager to run, before the stabilizers compensated. Above, the roof ground slowly open, the gap becoming wider and wider, outlined in the glow of flames. Sparks drifted down, and Vervain hoped that the ancient protections on the balloon would hold just a little longer.

More ropes parted, and the ship bucked again. “Done!” Tourmaline shouted, and grabbed the rope ladder to climb up. The final rope was secured to the prow; Riyu chopped through it—and the Dreamer popped straight up with startling suddenness.

“Riyu!” Vervain shouted, and for a moment thought he’d been left behind. But then the rope went taut again; peering over the side, she saw him dangling from it. “Kiki! Tourmaline! Help me pull him up!”

But Riyu was staring up past her. “Vervain-ge! Attend the ship!”

Startled, she looked up, and saw that the roof was still in the process of opening. Meanwhile, the Dreamer was shooting upward, seeming to go faster as it rose.

Swearing, she ran to the stern, where Amethyst stood white-faced by the wheel. A lever for adjusting altitude protruded from the deck by it; Vervain grabbed it, pushing down, and felt their descent slow. But they were still rising through the smoke, and the edges of the roof were perilously close.

Somehow, the balloon cleared the jagged tiles, the silk slipping past with only inches to spare. Then they were free, and the column of smoke rising from the conflagration engulfed them.

Holding her sleeve in front of her nose and mouth, Vervain blindly swung the wheel, knowing only that they had to get away from the rising smoke. The ship tilted gently, and hot wind tore through her hair, while ash stung her eyes.

A moment later, they were clear. The angry glow of the fire receded with the ground, and the black column of smoke blotted out the stars behind them. Coughing uncontrollably, Vervain straightened the wheel. “Hold it steady,” she told Amethyst, then stumbled toward the prow.

Kiki and Tourmaline had succeeded in hauling Riyu aboard. The sight of him safe, leaning against the rail and coughing like the rest of them, made her feel faint with relief. As she approached, he looked up with streaming eyes and gave her a tusky grin. “I had no doubts,” he said.

Vervain laughed weakly and sat down on the deck by him. “That’s good, because I had enough for all of us.”

“But you did it.” Tourmaline moved to the rail, staring out in shock. Behind them, the burning wood looked like nothing more than a bonfire, rapidly receding into the distance. Ahead, the light of the moon shone down on Blanca Valley, revealing the folds of hills and the meanderings of streams. “It worked. We’re—we’re flying!”

Despite everything, Vervain found herself smiling at his excitement. “We are at that.”

—

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In the end, they did their best to slip the limp balloon into the rigging and spread it out across the deck. While everyone else monitored various parts, to adjust ropes and keep it filling consistently, Vervain sat down cross-legged in the center of deck, the salamander’s cage in front of her.

Unlike her salamander summoning in Jet’s garden, she carefully inscribed a containment circle in chalk before she set about her work. Although she would aim her summons at a mature salamander, there was always the chance that a hungry juvenile would slip past. In that case, she would try to push it back into its home dimension first, but should it escape, at least it wouldn’t be able to leave the boundaries of the circle.

“Get ready, everyone,” she advised, before beginning her summoning chant.

She felt the juveniles first, burning hot and bright, swarming close in search of something to eat. Calling on her long training, Vervain disciplined herself to ignore them, instead letting her perception slip farther into the elemental dimension. Her thoughts focused on slow, controlled burning, on a safe place to sleep and to sluggishly stir, rather than on fuel for a conflagration. Eventually the juveniles lost interest and flitted away, continuing their relentless search for food elsewhere.

A spark of interest touched her consciousness. Not so sluggish as to be non-responsive, as some salamanders grew at the end of their centuries-long lives, but without the eager grasping of the uncontrollable young. Vervain let it follow the trail of her thoughts back, back, back…

With a rush of flame, a good-sized male salamander appeared curled in the basket, blinking at her with curious red eyes.

The air around it heated and immediately began to ruffle the mouth of balloon. “Get it over the cage!” Vervain ordered, all the while bending her concentration on the salamander. In response, its hot skin grew brighter, edging into white.

Dark shapes moved past her, dragging ropes, but she ignored them, intent only on the salamander. Silk rippled, then grew taut with a soft crack. “Keep it spread out!” she shouted, and heard cursing, whether directed at her or at the rigging, she didn’t know.

Slowly, slowly, the great balloon came to life and rose above her. “It’s left the deck!” Kiki reported, and Vervain’s heart leapt.

In less than half an hour, the vast balloon stretched overhead, anchored to the deck by the rigging. The Dreamer itself floated a few feet above the ground, straining gently at the tether lines.

“I can’t believe it,” Briar whispered, peering over the rail at the ground.

Vervain joined him at the rail, unable to keep a grin from her own features. “Neither can I.”

“Congratulations.” Riyu’s hand rested warm on her shoulder, and she leaned her head against it, glad to share the moment.

“We’ll have to wait until dark to open the roof and leave,” Vervain said. “We don’t want to be seen, and an airship rising over the fields would be hard to miss. But, if all goes well, we’ll be in the air tonight.”

“And on the way to Icci,” Amethyst said softly.

Vervain’s hands tightened on the rail. In the excitement of getting the Dreamer ready, she had managed to avoid thinking about the reason they needed such transportation in the first place. “Yes,” she said quietly. “With luck, this is one attack Brighthand will never see coming.”

—

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“Don’t be ridiculous,” Vervain replied, peering up into rafters made mysterious by shadow. “Someone trained in the magical sciences has to take a look at them, so that we can figure out what sort of repairs might be needed. At the moment, that means Amethyst and myself. I will take one side, she will take the other, and everything will be fine.”

“I am not reassured. This is too risky.”

“More risky than walking to Icci on foot?”

Naturally, he had no answer to that, and so had to settle for glowering at her darkly.

Tourmaline cleared his throat delicately. “I’m sorry, but I’m not entirely certain what it is you propose to do, other than climb up into the rafters. How will this help us get the ship out of the barn when the time comes?”

“It’s quite simple.” They had brought the two longest ladders Hop possessed, the ones used to pick fruit from the tallest trees in the orchard. Vervain went to one, intending to wrestle it upright. With a resigned sigh, Riyu brushed her aside and picked it up easily, leaning it against the nearest rafter. It barely reached, Vervain noted, and tamped down a twinge of nerves. “This barn was built for the express purpose of housing an airship, while still looking like a perfectly ordinary structure from the outside. The easiest way to move the ship in and out would be to go up or down in a straight line, probably at night when no one would see. Therefore, the roof was constructed with servos, which, when activated, swing each half up and out. The beams are designed to ratchet aside, allowing the ship to simply rise straight up and be on its way.”

“How ingenious,” Tourmaline said, with what sounded like genuine admiration. “And you’ll be able to fix them?”

“If we’re lucky, they won’t need much in the way of repair. Unfortunately, I’m a mage, not a mechanic, so if the physical mechanisms are badly damaged, we may yet find ourselves dismantling the roof.” She straightened her glasses and made certain that the bag holding her equipment was firmly attached to her belt. “Amethyst, are you ready?”

Amethyst looked a bit pale, but she nodded. “Yes, Mistress.”

“Excellent. If you have any questions about a particular mechanism, mark the rafter, and I’ll take a look at it after I’ve done my side.”

“I will.”

“Good girl. Let’s get started, then.”

As Vervain went to her ladder, Riyu and Kiki conferred briefly in orcish, before Kiki moved to steady Amethyst’s ladder for her. Riyu came to steady Vervain’s ladder, still glowering.

“Stop that,” she said briskly. “You look as though you’ve eaten an unripe lemon.”

Unsurprisingly, his expression didn’t change. “Your safety is my charge, Vervain-ge. Now you ask me to stand idly by while you clamber about a frightening distance above the ground, on old rafters that may or may not be sound enough to hold your weight. I have no desire to watch you fall to your death.”

“Oddly enough, I have no desire to fall to my death.” She climbed up several rungs, then glanced down. “And no peering up my skirt.”

“Alas, you deny me the only bright spot in this affair.”

Tourmaline had been hovering about. “A gentleman would not take such advantage of the situation,” he said frostily.

“Nor have a sense of humor, it would seem,” Riyu replied without turning around.

Vervain swore under her breath, then put it from her mind. At the moment, checking the roof mechanisms was her mission, not arguing with Tourmaline. And if he chooses to be childish…well, Riyu can defend himself readily enough.

The ladder trembled and jumped alarmingly under her weight, particularly as she reached the middle rungs. It settled a bit toward the top, but then she was faced with clambering off the uppermost rung and onto one of the age-darkened beams. This climbing about is for younger folk. If Hawthorne were here…

But he wasn’t, of course, and never would be again. Swallowing against a surge of grief, Vervain carefully pulled herself onto the beam and crouched there. The night before, she’d used a pair of glass bottles to construct two makeshift orblights, small enough to carry up with them. The spells wouldn’t last very long, unlike with a real orblight, but they would do for now.

The light showed her beams hewn from oak, wide enough to walk on, provided she was cautious of the teeth down the center, which were used to ratchet them out of the way. Their spacing was close enough to step from one to the next—a long step, but a step nonetheless. Cobwebs festooned the space between rafter and beam, and decades of dirt and animal droppings had accumulated on every surface.

Easing onto her hands and knees, Vervain wiped spider webs from her spectacles and peered at the joining between beam and rafter. As she had expected, there was no simple joint, but rather a mechanism of brass and wheels. Due to the wide beams, anyone standing on the ground would be unable to see it, and she admired the cleverness of her long-ago ancestors who had devised it.

And see what has become of us. Father and Hop, Daisy and Hazel, and all the rest. Living in ignorance and superstition, allowing children to suffer disfigurement and disease out of misplaced fear.

At least we have not all turned away from the pursuit of knowledge. Pulling a cloth from her belt, she carefully wiped away the grime and webs. Tarnished brass gleamed dully back at her, and in the beams of the miniature light, she caught sight of the runes etched into the metal.

Amethyst’s voice echoed from the other side of the barn. “Mistress? Should I test it?”

“No. If we activate one alone, without the rest, it might grind down the gears while attempting to lift the roof by itself.” Vervain sat back on her heels, studying the mechanism intently. “For now, we should simply ascertain that everything is intact, and that the runes are still clear. Once the ship is ready, we’ll try to open the roof. If it doesn’t work, we’ll abort and see if we can fix the mechanisms that need fixed.”

Once she was certain that the first servo was at least outwardly intact, Vervain rose to her feet and carefully stepped across the gap to the next beam. She caught sight of Riyu moving beneath her, as if to catch her should she slip. Silently shaking her head, she bent to clean away the cobwebs and filth once again.

To her gratification, all of the servos appeared to be intact, and no call or question came from Amethyst to make her think things were any different on the other side of the barn. Everything was going well, and as she stepped to the final beam, Vervain was already envisioning a warm bath and a clean change of clothes.

As she transferred her weight from one beam to another, her foot slipped on the remains of an ancient bird nest. Her stomach lurched, and instinct screamed that she was falling even before her conscious mind understood what was happening. With a startled shriek, she grabbed wildly for anything that would keep her from plummeting to the floor below.

Her fall was brought up abruptly, and agony shot through her right shoulder. Somehow, she had managed to hook her right arm around the beam, the left still scrabbling frantically at the wood. All her weight depended from her arms; her legs swung freely in the gulf of air separating her from the ground.

Everyone started shouting, but Riyu’s voice drowned out the rest. “Vervain-ge! Hang on!”

“What do you think I’m doing?” she snapped back. “Stop yelling at me and bring the ladder!”

A flash of movement along the beam caught her eye, and she saw that Amethyst was crawling along the beam, her eyes wide with fear. “I’m coming, Mistress!”

The pain in Vervain’s shoulder was growing by the moment, and she found herself gritting her teeth. Her world narrowed down to clinging to the beam, no matter that if felt as though both arms might leave their sockets.

The ladder thudded into the beam beside her, startling her so badly that she almost lost her grip. Amethyst reached her at almost the same moment and leaned over perilously to grab hold of Vervain’s upper arms. “Hook your legs over the ladder, Mistress,” she said anxiously.

Seeing the sense in this, Vervain flailed blindly with her right leg, until her foot struck a rung. Moving slowly, she was able to hook that leg around the rung, and the left around the stringer. With Amethyst’s help, she eased over and got her arms on the ladder as well.

“I’ll check this last servo,” Amethyst said kindly, once Vervain was secured. “Maybe you should climb down.”

Vervain lifted a shaking hand to push her spectacles back into place. “I think I’ll take your suggestion, Student Langalia.”

The moment she was within reach, Riyu swept her off the ladder and into his arms. Although he no doubt appeared rock-steady from even a few feet away, she could feel the tiny tremors in his body as he crushed her against him.

“See? I told you I’d be fine,” she said.

He snorted and set her on her feet. The green skin of his face had taken on a sickly hue. “You’ll be the death of me yet, Vervain-ge. Please, by all the goddesses, refrain from doing anything like that again.”

She straightened her spectacles and smoothed her skirts. “I have to admit, I’d prefer not to repeat the experience,” she said with a shaky smile, as Briar and Tourmaline hurried up. “But, unless there is something amiss with the final joint that Amethyst is inspecting, we will be able to free the Dreamer and fly once again.”

—

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