It was a slow march up the stairs to the Pit's second floor. Thor climbed them at my side, hooves clacking against each wooden step. I looked down at the pack animal.

  I owed my life to a boar. What was the world coming to?

  Come to think of it, each member of the party had saved my life—some more than once. Castille saved me outside the capital, Dugan saved me by saving Van Lagos and Isla... Isla saved me from Kateen's warehouse.

  It should disgust me, my biggest moments of weakness repeating in my mind like a well rehearsed play. Instead, it made me want to return the favour.

  I couldn't help but smile when I opened the door to the master suite. Castille sat on one of the side table chairs, double checking her weapons; Isla and Dugan slept in the bed, and-

  "Shay?! What are you doing here?"

  Shay sat in a chair on the other side of the bed. He glanced up from the hoop of white fabric held in his left hand.

  "Practicing my needlework."

  He frowned.

  "What did you do to my clothes?"

  "I had an accident with Finnick Lagos."

  "Finnick?!" Castille shouted.

  That woke everyone up. Dugan shot up straight, back rigid from the alarm in Castille’s voice. Isla rubbed her eyes, turning over to see me standing in the frame of the door.

  “Jacob… You're back…”

  She sucked in a sharp breath of air.

  What happened?!"

  The mention of Finnick made my knees weak. I closed the door behind myself and leaned against the wall.

  "Long story… First, Dugan, can you heal me?”

  The short man swung his feet off the bed.

  "We talked about this, children. No Landbound abilities. In fact, no moving. Go back to bed," Shay said, not looking up from his embroidery hoop.

  "But-"

  "No butts. That's inappropriate."

  "What's happening here?" I asked.

  "We're the Inquisitor's strike team," Castille said. "She wants us well rested for the break of dawn."

  "What happens at dawn?"

  "We go to kill Nostrand Del."

  I sagged against the wall.

  "I'm going to faint."

  "Don't," Shay said. "Sanare."

  My eyes bulged. Blood rushed to my head. The dull throb from the cut on my neck vanished. The black border around my vision pulled back, and the room became clearer—brighter.

  "Hey, why do you get to use your Magic?" Isla asked.

  "Because I only have a supporting role to play in this affair. Besides, he was on his last legs. I barely used any will.”

  My stomach twisted into knots. With a single word, he reached into my body and healed me. My will was so weak he could have just as easily turned me inside out. I shivered. The First Magic was terrifying, and the more scared of it you became, the more power it had over you.

  “While I’m at it, I can't have you scampering around in soiled clothes. Purus."

  The blood and mud caked into the fabric of my clothes vanished. Anywhere the clothing touched my skin was instantly cleaned. I blinked.

  Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  "What about my face—my hands?"

  "There's some water in the tub behind me. I suggest you clean up."

  # # #

  After wiping down my face, neck, and hands, I leaned against the wall across from the bed and told them what had happened on my mission. In return, they filled me in on what happened when I left. After falling back, Reed consolidated Tom and Kateen’s forces. They created a perimeter and sent out sweeping patrols that pushed the disorganized stone men into the Steeltowners’ makeshift fortifications. It was a classic anvil and hammer maneuver, but it was the first time I heard of the tactic being used in tight city streets. With the tunnel sealed, the next step of her plan was a direct strike.

  While Tom and Kateen's forces were sweeping up the remains of the raiders, our best forces would drive a knife into Nostrand Del’s metal heart. The rationale was simple. The more we waited, the more time he had time to prepare. If what I guessed was true, there were stone men all over the Dellends making tunnels. Steeltown could be attacked from any angle while Nostrand consolidated the rest of his army.

  The plan was risky, and I had accidentally turned Reed’s gamble into a long shot. Finnick was supposed to be our way of tunnelling into the undertown without Nostrand Del or his stone men knowing. His abilities would have been invaluable to this mission. With his untimely death, our next best bet was Isla, but her inexperience with creating tunnels could lead to an accident… or worse.

  "Spirits take that midget," Castille said.

  "I’ve been told the correct word is little person,” Shay said.

  Castille frowned at the Immortal Tailor. Frowned but did not talk back. Trading verbal jabs with an Enchanter was often literal.

  I slid against the wall, sitting down on the floor with a thump beside a surprised Thor.

  "Do you think Reed will call off the attack?"

  "I hope so. You need more time to rest after the ambush," Isla said.

  "Knowing that woman, she'll leave an hour earlier," Castille said.

  "She can be exuberant."

  “What does that mean?”

  “Excitable.”

  Castille rolled her eyes.

  "Let me talk to her. She might listen to me," I said.

  “Fat-“

  KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

  Every head in the room turned to the door.

  "Looks like you’ll get your chance," Shay said.

  The door swung open, and Reed walked in. She swept her gaze over the room before stopping to look down at me.

  "Renegotiating the Steeltown Compact, organizing the town's defences and planning a counterattack. Out of everything I’ve been tasked with in the Dellends, keeping you alive has been my greatest challenge."

  I flashed her a tired smile.

  "I hear it's about to get harder."

  "Indeed."

  She shrugged her club off her shoulder. The black iron head thumped onto the floor loud enough to wake up anyone sleeping in the other rooms.

  "We’ve blunted their attack, but we need to strike back before he has time to prepare another wave. Mages, how is your will?"

  "Maybe seventy percent," Isla said.

  "A-A-A bit over half," Dugan said.

  "Forty percent now that I'm healed," I said.

  Reed closed her eyes, head down in thought.

  "Not ideal… Shay, I'll need you to take a more active role in this operation."

  "Very well.”

  “Are you sure? Your value to the Guild-”

  Shay looked up from his hoop of cloth.

  Their eyes locked for a lingering moment.

  "I’ll be fine, apprentice."

  She nodded, more to herself than Shay.

  "Then we leave at dawn."

  "That's only a few hours from now," Isla said.

  "Indeed. Get some sleep."

  Reed turned to leave, swinging her club over her shoulder.

  "Wait."

  She stopped with her hand on the doorknob.

  "Yes, Jacob?"

  My questions died on my tongue. What could I say to her?

  Maybe, the truth.

  "Were tired, Reed. I’m tired. If we fight Nostrand Del with weakened mages, we might lose everything. Is it possible to wait for backup?"

  The Inquisitor's lips pressed together in a thin, red line.

  “What backup?! Luskaine's main armies are fighting the Dahlgesh at the border. The nearest forces from my Guild are weeks away, and we don't have enough food stockpiled to sustain a siege."

  She glanced at Isla over her shoulder. The colour drained from the young noble’s face.

  "We’re alone, Jacob. Our best chance—our only chance is to cut the head off the snake. The sooner, the better. And if we die… so be it."

  Reed paused on the last sentence, letting it linger in the air for impact.

  "But what if we win? You’ll get your gold, your freedom—everything you dreamed of and more. Across Luskaine and beyond, people will know the name Jacob Sin. You’ll a be hero—a legend. They may even make a statue for you. After all…"

  She glanced at Shay.

  “There’s more than one way to live forever.”

  Reed grinned, slinking out of the room with her shoulders back and head held high.

  Hero? Legend?

  She sounded like Mother Geslin, but I didn’t know if she was as clever as the old woman.

  Castille crossed her arms.

  "You heard the lass. Let's pack it in."

  "Speak for yourself. I don't sleep," Shay said.

  “I do,” Isla said, falling back in her pillow.

  I pulled myself up on my feet.

  “Any room for me?”

  “No,” Dugan said, swinging his feet back from the edge.

  I scoffed and glanced at Castille.

  “Thanks for backing me up. I thought you didn’t agree with Reed’s plan?”

  “Complaining isn’t disagreeing. A good soldier knows when to follow orders.”

  “So, you're back to being a soldier.”

  The older woman shrugged.

  "It could be worse. At least she's not a noble."

  "She's not?" Isla asked.

  "Go to bed, children."

  We worked fast. Rolling out extra bed rolls for me and Castille to sleep on the floor. I didn't think of sleeping in the other room. I didn't want to be alone.

  Laying on top of the bedroll, I stared at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to take me into its warm embrace.

  A weapon.

  A weapon.

  People are not weapons.

  Then what am I?

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