Mirzayael and Zyneth take up positions at opposite sides of the ring, drawing spear and blades. I wouldn’t be surprised if one of them pushed it a little too far and hurt the other, but we at least have healers on standby. And, truth be told, if anyone is going to take it too far, I suspect it will be Mirzayael. But what I know, and she doesn’t, is that Mirzayael is level 34, while Zyneth is 36.

  Kanin is also watching the two, his unguarded thoughts drifting across our connection. His concern over the match is stronger than my own; he doesn’t understand why these two keep butting heads.

  “It’s protectiveness,” I tell him, using the opportunity as a gentle reminder that I’m still in his mind, in case he didn’t intend for me to hear his thoughts. “They both see each other as our guardians.”

  “So, pride,” Kanin grumbles. He sounds grumpier than he feels; he wants to be offended at the idea of needing to be protected, but he can’t bring himself to be annoyed at his partner. Meanwhile, I’m quite flattered by Mirzayael’s protectiveness—though I wish it wouldn’t come at the cost of the posturing we’re witnessing now.

  “Well,” Kanin says with a mental sigh, “I guess this is as good of a distraction as we’ll get.”

  “And given Shirasil’s visit, we have much to discuss,” I agree.

  Kanin’s attention shifts inward to our conversation; meanwhile, I notice Ink focusing on the match instead. I think it’s still absently listening to us, but it finds action much more interesting than words.

  “At your ready,” Mirzayael calls.

  Zyneth has a blade in each hand. He flexes his wrists. “Ready.”

  Mirzayael tenses, spear raised. “Begin!”

  The two clash in a blur of color and screech of metal. A burst of electricity crackles from Zyneth’s knives, and Mirzayael disengages, using her spear to secure distance. The tip of her weapon glows light blue, and when she strikes again, it's Zyneth who backs off.

  “I’m hesitant to accept Shirasil’s offer,” I tell Kanin. “Learning that only you and I will be able to pass into the Heavens complicates things. I know Mirzayael is worried since she wouldn’t be able to accompany me.”

  Zyneth flattens to the ground as Mirzayael charges him, and he strikes up at her abdomen with a bout of flames.

  “Yeah, I’m pretty sure Zyneth feels the same,” Kanin says.

  “But it’s more than that,” I continue. “Ollie’s Role is tied to me. His Sanity stat decreases when I’m in danger. Putting myself in such a position risks hurting the child, too.”

  Disappointment stings through Kanin, though not at my backing out of our agreement, as I would have thought. More than anything, he feels upset that Ollie has such a Role.

  “If you have to stay out of this, then I get it,” he says. “But I can’t give up yet. I already knew this would be incredibly risky going in, so what Shirasil said doesn’t change anything for me.” He hesitates, guilty to ask anything more from me. “I was hoping you’d still be willing to help with my spell circle, at least.”

  Mirzayael stabs at Zyneth with both her spear and her front legs, and the cambion deflects each blow with one of his knives. Despite having a few levels on her, he looks tiny in comparison. He’s circling around the ring, retreating, but not allowing her to corner him.

  Distracted by the fight, it takes me a moment to process what Kanin said. “Why do you still need your spell circle? Shirasil was going to provide a way to access the Heavens.”

  Kanin radiates sardonic amusement. “I mean, come on. Do you trust him?”

  I smile. I think I trust him more than anyone else here, but I can understand not wanting to be dependent on the goodwill of a god. “I see your point. But how do you intend to open a bridge for yourself? You’d need…”

  A flicker of his plan catches my attention. A memory from last night—of Ink snapping out a shadowy limb just before Lisari teleported us back to the Fortress.

  “I can’t imagine anything being more useful to point me toward a god than an object he created himself,” Kanin thinks.

  He smugly directs my mind to the pocket of his coat. I shift my grip until I can feel it.

  “Her hairpin,” I realize. “I didn’t even notice that you’d grabbed it.”

  “Shirasil said he’d contact us after he had a chance to hide Anika’s refiner,” Kanin explains. “At that point I should be able to sneak in and recover her myself, thanks to the map he gave us. And try to break some Travelers out, while I’m at it.”

  “Risky.” But ultimately, it’s no more risky than his original plan. In fact, with the map, it’s arguably more likely to succeed now than it had been before.

  Of course, this wouldn’t convince Mirzayael that Kanin and I should go alone—nor would it reduce the risk of Ollie’s Role activating—but it does give me more hope that Kanin can pull it off.

  Mirzayael catches one of Zyneth’s arms on a line of silk, and he immediately expels a burst of lightning; the electricity bolts across the silk like an electrical wire, and zaps Mirzayael with enough force to cause her to stumble back with a surprised grunt. In the same moment, the electricity is replaced by flames, burning the spider silk from Zyneth’s arm.

  I wince as Mirzayael’s mind jolts from the electric shock.

  “So how can I be of assistance?” I ask Kanin, trying to take my mind off the match.

  “I need somewhere I can make the spell circle in secret,” he says. “Preferably close to a source of the Ruin’s storm arcana. I should be able to sneak out and work on it when Aquenno is asleep.”

  Ah, yes. We will have to keep this from Aquenno and Blair, won’t we? She’s made it very clear that, while she disagrees with what the Heavens are doing, she isn’t willing to betray them.

  Honestly, I don’t like this. I want to win these two over to our side. But if Kanin has given us a chance to take matters into our own hands, then I also don’t believe this is an opportunity we should pass by.

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  “I can arrange that,” I say. “And while I’m not sure I’d be the best to help you with this spell circle design of yours, I’m sure Dizzi would jump at the opportunity. She can be trusted to be discreet.”

  Kanin’s mind floods with relief that I’m still willing to help.

  “Then my second ask is if you’re still willing to house any Travelers I’m able to free,” he says. “You might not be involved with breaking them out, but you’d still be protecting them, and I might be leading the gods right to you. If you say no, I’ll understand.”

  This request, at least, is easy for me to agree to, as it’s one that Mirzayael has also endorsed. “I understand the risks. I understood that when we decided to take Sandro in, and when we first agreed to help you. I may not be a warrior, but Fyreneth designed this city to be a safe haven for anyone who sought it out, and I intend to protect its inhabitants and her vision to the best of my ability. After all, we have a few tricks of our own up our sleeves to deal with the gods.”

  Kanin perks up, curiosity eating at his mind. “Mind filling me in?”

  Mirzayael has now produced a handful of messenger spider constructs, which are keeping Zyneth at a wary distance. It’s a bluff, since the spiders can’t be used offensively, but Zyneth doesn’t know that. He throws a flaming knife at one of them, and it immediately bursts into flames. Mirzayael charges before Zyneth can recover his blade, and he backs away.

  “I’m not sure if elaborating on our defenses would be wise,” I reluctantly tell him. “If your mission fails, and you’re captured, it’s likely the gods will be able to learn everything you know. I’m willing to let slip that we have a way to deal with them, but sharing the specifics could provide opportunities for them to exploit.”

  Kanin seems a little disappointed at this, but mostly because he’s dying of curiosity. He doesn’t take it as a sign that don’t trust him, as I had feared.

  In fact, Kanin seems to feel strangely satisfied with the conversation, though all I had to offer was a rescinding of the previous help I’d agreed to. Guilt swirls through me. I wish I could do more.

  “Thank you,” Kanin thinks.

  “I don’t feel like I am offering very much,” I apologize. “Believe me, if Ollie weren’t at risk, I would join you in a heartbeat.”

  Kanin laughs. “Fyre, you’re already sticking your neck out for me. You’re willing to let me use your city to power a spell circle that’s going to open a gate directly to the Heavens so I can jailbreak a bunch of people from Earth, making your city a target in the process. You’re offering more than I ever should have asked for.”

  I look upon Kanin fondly. Everything he’s been through, and he still finds ways to laugh. His guilt over the Travelers is a driving motivator to keep him pressing ahead, I know. But what will happen after they’re free? What will drive him then?

  “If nothing else, I’ll look into producing more glass for you,” I tell him, trying to turn my thoughts to lighter places. I can’t solve tomorrow’s “what ifs” today. “Should be fun to get back to something more within my wheelhouse!”

  As Zyneth circles toward the opposite side of the sparring ring, Mirzayael crouches down beside his knife, still embedded in the smoldering remains of her messenger spider. Keeping her eyes on him, she yanks it from the ground, likely to toss it from the ring.

  She never gets the chance.

  Electricity bursts from Zyneth’s blades—both the one in his hand, and the one in Mirzayael’s.

  Lightning courses through her, and her body tenses up from the shock. Alarm shoots through me as her legs give out and she collapses to the ground. Zyneth is there in an instant, one foot planted atop her spear to keep it pinned to the ground. He lowers his other blade to her neck.

  “Good match.”

  Mirzayael blinks, and Zyneth quickly pulls his knife away as she shakes her head, slightly dazed.

  “Mir!” I think, wading through her scrambled thoughts. “Are you alright?”

  She gradually regains awareness of her surroundings, her mind souring when she realizes what happened.

  “Fine,” she thinks shortly, scowling at Zyneth. She pushes herself to her feet and dusts herself off. I relax. Her ego is bruised more than her body.

  “You left your blade behind on purpose,” she grumbles at Zyneth.

  The cambion retrieves the knife Mirzayael had dropped, and sheaths them both. “I figured it couldn’t hurt to try, since you were underestimating me the whole fight.”

  Mirzayael’s eyes narrow. Then she snorts, smiling faintly. “I won’t make that mistake next time.”

  “Oh,” I think, surprised. “It seems she’s come around on him.”

  Kanin laughs. “That’s how she shows she likes someone?”

  I grin. “She’s a tough nut to crack.”

  Zyneth heads back over to Kanin, and I drift over as well, letting go of his core.

  [Psionic Touch ended.]

  Zyneth’s eyes dance with amusement as he looks Kanin over. “You haven’t finished reworking your body yet?”

  “Give me a break,” he says, popping off another one of his tentacle-like limbs. “I was distracted.”

  I hand Kanin’s coat back to him. Or, I suppose, I hand Kanin back over to his body. It’s very odd to think Kanin is actually just the little core still wrapped in the jacket, and all the rest of the glass are merely tools and vehicles at his disposal.

  “Well done, Zyneth,” I tell him. “Not many can get the best of Mirzayael like that.”

  Mirzayael scoffs in my mind.

  “I’m sure it will go differently if we spar again,” Zyneth says, inclining his head respectfully. I can feel this irritates Mir even more. Though, to be honest, she’s already itching for a rematch. It’s been a while since she’s encountered someone who’s a challenge for her, and that’s only making her hungry to fight again.

  I return to her side as Zyneth and Kanin manage to fuss over each other simultaneously. “Finish evaluating the threat level of our guests?” I tease.

  She glances out of the corner of her eyes, narrowing them good naturedly. “Yes, in fact. It was very informative.”

  “It was for me as well,” I tell her. “Kanin and I had a chance to speak during the match.”

  This catches her attention. “What about?”

  “I told him I won’t be accompanying him on his expedition to the Heavens.”

  Mirzayael lets out a relieved breath. I hadn’t realized she’d been worried I might have told him anything different. But she knows how much I want to help people. How hard it is for me to stand by when someone needs my help.

  “We will still help them,” I assure her. “Just in a different way. We’ll be there to provide every Traveler with a safe haven—with a new home, should they want it. But my place is here, at your side.”

  Mirzayael turns to me, crouching down so she can meet my gaze at eye-level. “Thank you,” she murmurs, brushing her fingers along one of my cheeks. I raise a hand to cup her face as well. “I could not take care of this city without you.”

  “Nor I, you.”

  Her mind radiates a comforting warmth as we lean in to share a quick kiss. When I pull away, I notice Aquenno watching, who quickly glances askance. My hand drops to Mirzayael’s, and I twine my fingers through her own.

  “Kanin still intends to go through with the invasion on his own, then?” Mirzayael asks.

  “It sounds like it,” I say as we begin to lead the group away from the training grounds.

  “Then we will need to ready ourselves for retaliation,” Mirzayael says, her mind already growing hard once more as she turns to tactics and strategy. “It sounds as if we have only a month to prepare.”

  I glance at Aquenno, who has now turned his attention to Kanin and Zyneth. “Agreed,” I tell her.

  Which means I have one month to win over as many gods to our cause as I can manage.