Seeing is not always believing. Sometimes it takes a touch to convince yourself of what is true. Here he was, standing in front of a girl from home. It was supposed to be Hanna, but why? Why was she Hanna? Was there a sack somewhere where his family had been hiding all this time? He did not believe she was real, so he touched her face—and she took his hand and squeezed the life out of it. Her skin was oily, and she smelled of carbolic soap and ointment.

  “Hanna,” he said, in a voice from months ago.

  “Jeromy,” she said, and everything fell into place from then.

  “Hanna,” Jenne repeated. It was divine to call her by name. The embrace tightened until their hearts touched and synchronised, beating as one. Then their bond grew stronger, elevating their spirits and merging their souls. She was Hanna in the flesh, but she was more to him. She was everyone he had left behind. She was his window into life back at home—the best gift anyone had ever given him.

  The car’s engine died, followed by Schemel clearing her throat. Both Blackens turned to the Mistress, who pointed toward the villa. She took the lead, a fixed smile on her face. Jenne took Hanna’s hand so they could walk alongside each other. He was not going to let go of her hand for the rest of her life.

  “Jeromy,” she said in a sing-song voice. “You’ve become big.”

  “Huh?”

  “Look at how tall you’ve become,” she said, stopping to admire him. He grinned with a shrug, not sure whether he should respond. Hanna’s smile stretched so wide it seemed to extend off her face.

  “Look at you… you’re doing so much better than before. I’m glad you’re okay.”

  “I’m glad you’re okay, too,” said Jenne.

  She hissed and showed all her teeth, rubbing her hand. “Um gled you’re okai, tsoo,” she said. “Goldie.”

  “I’m not golden,” Jenne snapped, thumping his chest. “I’m Blacken in here.”

  “Children,” said Schemel, standing at the villa's door. “Let’s get inside before we continue our reunion.”

  They did, and it was Hanna’s turn to look around the place. She gawked at the space inside the hut and the portraits on the walls. She shuddered at the size of the dining table and the plaque with Jenne’s name on it. “Maselli would die to be here.”

  Jenne’s heart tightened at the sound of his brother’s name.

  “Sit down here,” Jenne said, pointing behind the dining table. “Let me fetch you a glass of water first, and then I’ll make something for you to eat.”

  “Why would you do that?” Hanna said, trying to stand as Jenne guided her onto the seat. “I’m not here as a visitor. If it wasn’t for Renna, I wouldn’t be here in the first place. We have to thank her first before we do anything else.”

  He was terrible. Where was Schemel? Hanna had taken the lead to give thanksgiving, heading to the kitchen area. Jenne scrambled after her, reaching Schemel. Hanna bowed first, and Jenne followed suit.

  “Renna, I don’t know what to say,” Jenne said. “I can’t thank you enough. I was not expecting this at all. Hanna and I are grateful for making her visit possible.”

  “I’m not the one you should be thanking, Jenne, although I welcome your gratitude,” said Schemel. “Your friend knows how she got here. I had nothing to do with it. All I did was place a few calls and get a driver to pick her up and bring her to us.”

  “Ren Regal,” guessed Jenne, turning to Hanna. “Was he the one who brought you to the city?”

  “Yes,” Hanna said, coiling up. She shot a shaky glance at Schemel first before mumbling to Jenne, “He tried to save us from the Banner, but I was the only one who escaped with him.”

  Blood drained from Jenne’s head. He willed himself to stand upright for the hard truths ahead. No day had been as cold as this one. He wished there were a better place for this.

  “The Banner returned after Ren Regal and Renna Zeal came for me,” said Jenne. “And they took Blackwood hostage.”

  “It’s much worse,” said Hanna. “Jerry, there’s a monster in our home.”

  “The same one that killed Votress earlier this year,” said Schemel. “Hanna and Regilon are the only ones who have managed to escape alive.”

  “What are we waiting for, then?” Hamis.

  Hanna shrieked, leaping across the kitchen. Hamis floated behind Jenne, a hand on the earthen’s shoulder. He must have had his other hand on Hanna’s shoulder, which she was still brushing. She stopped, looking at Jenne as though she wanted him to squash the floating marker with a slipper.

  “Hanna, this is my friend, Hamis. He’s a marker.”

  “Wow, when did this happen?” Hamis whispered to Schemel. “Jenne must be excited. He’s been dying to meet his family from home, and now you’ve found his sister.”

  “She’s not my sister, Hamis,” Jenne corrected. “Hanna is my… um.”

  “I’m his sister-in-law,” said Hanna, as though realising it herself. “Sorry for the way I acted, Ren Deus.”

  Schemel snorted when Hanna bowed. Hamis chuckled and feigned a bow of his own. “I’m at your service, my lady,” he said. “You’ve come to the right place for help. We will help you save Blackwood.”

  “You will be getting ready for Friday,” said Schemel. “This is no mission for a student.”

  Hamis asked if she’d be going. “Something tells me you’re not too scared of a southern monster.”

  “You might have noticed a certain symbol on my hand. Would it not be strange if I encountered the southern demons only to realise I can’t rely on ascension?”

  “Oh…” Hamis combed through his hair. “Would you have gone anyway? I mean, you had a whole lot of opportunities to drop by but you didn’t.”

  Schemel’s cold glare shut Hamis up.

  “Renna was preoccupied at the time,” Jenne explained to Hanna, hoping Hamis had not left a skewed impression of the former High Commander in her mind. “She was fighting the war in the Midder-Lands. There was no way she could risk her life for our village when our country needed her most. Besides, we sent Ren Votress Gallant, and Ren Regal came as well. I don’t know what kind of monster you had to survive at home, but it’s really powerful.”

  “No, it’s not,” said Hanna. “And I don’t blame Renna Sorel for not coming. I think it was the right thing to do. And Ren Deus, thank you for offering to save Blackwood, but I must refuse your help. No one can save Blackwood—not Renna, not even Jacqolin. The only one who can is Jeromy.” She approached the darkening Schemel. “I’m asking for permission on Jeromy’s behalf. Please let him come with me to Blackwood—for a day or two—and allow him to defeat the monster to save our village. He is the only one who can.”

  “Jenne can’t leave with you yet,” said Schemel, her lips tugging at the corners. “Even if I wanted to let him go, he couldn’t. There are far too many invested in his situation at Se Fina.”

  “Isn’t there anything you can do for us?” asked Hanna. “Please, it’s an emergency.”

  Was Jenne hearing things? Hanna was begging for impossible treasures. What she wanted seemed unattainable. How many Gaverians would risk their lives like Regilon did? And which of those would succeed after not one but two had already failed?

  “…and you want Jenne to help you,” said Hamis, following a similar train of thought. “I get it. It’s three in the morning, and we all need some sleep. Maybe your sister-in-law will make more sense when we wake up later today.”

  Nothing made sense because Hanna’s story had holes. Hopefully, everything would fall into place when they spoke alone. Without wasting much time, Jenne made a far more reasonable request to Schemel: to take Hanna outside so they could speak in private.

  “Put on a jacket before you walk out into that fog,” said Schemel. “I don’t want you catching a cold before your big day.”

  When Jenne and Hanna were together in his room, he fumbled in his suitcase for a spare jumper she could wear. She was about to speak when he sprang from behind his wardrobe and clapped a palm over her mouth. Placing a finger over his lips, he shook his head, then pointed to his ear. Hanna’s eyes widened, then she nodded.

  “…uh, why do you care so much about our training session this Friday?” Hamis was speaking to Schemel. “Haven’t you heard the news? If you had, you probably wouldn’t be so excited.”

  “You’re one point shy of victory,” said Schemel. “It’s impressive, yes, but I have every reason to be excited because the graduate for this year is not yet decided.”

  “Come on, Jenne’s pretty far off,” Hamis chuckled. “He can beat me this Friday, but that just postpones my graduation to next week.”

  “Not quite,” said Schemel. “I’ve spoken to your master. If all goes well, Jenne will be a point behind you before your last training.”

  There was a long stretch of silence before Hamis spoke. “No way,” he said. “Our last fight is going to be a decider.”

  “Yes,” said Schemel. “Only if Tenrad considers my appeal.”

  Jenne prohibited Hanna from uttering a single word until they had reached the chapel. Without turning on the lights, they walked in and sat on a pew right beneath a window. He would hear anyone approaching from a distance.

  “I can’t believe it's you,” he said, searching for her hand. He was a feather in the wind; she was a ray of sunshine. Happiness was a treat, and he would not stop feasting. The last time he had felt such lightness was during his friendship with Malory, which did not compare in any way to this.

  “Maselli has not been the same without you,” she said. “I think he misses you the most.”

  That led to questions about everyone—Mari, Aron, Maselli, Rita, Conrad, Patrica, Jeremy, Antonica, Zerah. With every tale of how they grouped and escaped into the tunnel, he was with them. He stood in the dust of his village, running with them to safety.

  Despite not having enough of her stories, there was an elephant they needed to address.

  “Hanna, have you met my sister?”

  “I’ve met Ezra,” she said. “There was chaos at first. Antonica and a few others didn’t want to associate with your family because of her, but things changed. She’s gotten used to us as well. I like her. She’s very lovely, very polite.” Hanna sighed. “How were you able to keep her a secret for so long?”

  “She’s the reason I ended up in this mess in the first place,” said Jenne. “I don’t regret it, though. That’s what Renna Sorel meant when she said that even if she wanted to let me leave, she couldn’t. The Assembly wanted doctors to experiment on me, but Renna Sorel had other plans. I’m grateful she brought me here to experience something close to a normal life.”

  Hanna choked up, and he had an idea of where her mind was.

  “I don’t like her,” she concluded.

  “Hanna, you don’t know her.”

  “She could’ve brought me here a week ago, but she didn’t.”

  “There must be a reasonable explanation.”

  “For someone who claims she’s taking care of you, it seems she doesn’t care all that much about your real family. How long has she known Blackwood was in danger? Has she cared once?”

  “Hanna, you can’t talk about her like that,” he said. “She owes us nothing. We have to be grateful. Even now, we’re still indebted to her because she’s going to save Blackwood.”

  “She said she won’t.”

  “I’m sure Renna didn’t want to get your hopes up, but she will.”

  “Besides, it has to be you,” she said. “No one can save Blackwood apart from you.”

  Verimae’s words pushed their way to the top of his mind. You’ll know what you’re meant for. Was he meant to save Blackwood? Verimae had not been that direct, had she? The answer depended on one simple question. If the answer was the same as the one he suspected, then he would have to believe Hanna.

  “The monster you mentioned,” said Jenne. “You’ve been quiet about it because you don’t want anyone to know it’s Franka.”

  Hanna’s breath caught, and she wheezed. Jenne held her close, yet she rattled in his arms. The faint streetlight reflected off the raised hairs on her neck. She did not speak, and he knew it was true.

  “I’ve seen him here, too,” he confessed. He shut his eyes tight, trying to rephrase. “I see things sometimes. Franka would appear and talk.”

  “You can defeat him,” she said, her tone suspended between a question and a statement of fact.

  He almost wished he had not figured out who the monster was. Facing a nameless creature was one thing; knowing it was Franka was quite another. His name was forbidden in their home. A person capable of stealing so much joy from his mother without even being present—Jenne had been affected in his own way. Franka was partly responsible for how miserable Jenne’s last night in Blackwood had been. Erisa had shot him dead, and Jenne had not felt remorse then. Now, to think he was back from the dead.

  “Jerry,” Hanna said. “We’re leaving.”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “Yes, I know. The government wants you and whatever, but who cares what these people say? They don’t know our families. They don’t care. We have to do everything we can to save them, even if it means breaking the rules.”

  “I know, but what do you expect us to do right now? We have no means of going back.”

  “There are portals that lead to the Farms every day,” she said. “I saw them open and close when I stayed at the camp.” She told him in detail how she had followed Regilon to Henrikia. Hanna had lived with the natives at Camp Regis, waiting for Regilon to fetch her—but he never came.

  “I think it would be better if we were patient,” he said. If all she had told him was true, then things should fall into place. He had promised Aron he would become a Gaverian. He would become a Gaverian and save his people.

  Jenne’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He had one email and a text message from Schemel.

  “You have a phone,” Hanna said, lips folded and cheeks puffed. She was going to stay at Schemel’s residence and work as a dossi in the meantime. Jenne would go over it tomorrow.

  The email was from administration. His heart thumped as he read the message about the penalty.

  Year 316

  Points Remaining: 3

  Jenne Aster – 48

  “Destiny,” he whispered. “I’m going to beat Hamis this Friday. If I can do that, I can beat Franka.”

  Hanna had a thing or two to say about that, but she closed her mouth and accepted his decision—for now, at least. They embraced one last time, revelling in the quiet between them. She left with Schemel, and Jenne collapsed onto his bed, asleep by sunrise.

  By midday, he woke, well-rested and light as air. What a wonderful day! Then reality hit. “It’s midday.” Eight missed calls from Ashey alone. Had he really slept that deeply?

  Jenne scrambled to get ready and fixed a quick sandwich while calling Hamis.

  “Ashey’s fine. Take it easy,” Hamis said, some noise buzzing in the background. “I’m waiting for her to finish her paper.”

  “I hope she’s not angry,” Jenne said. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

  “Jenne, it’s fine. Take the day off.”

  Not with the week ahead of him. “I can’t do that. I’ll meet you there soon.”

  Hamis huffed. “What’s up with everyone thinking I’m not good enough for them? I had to suck up to Ashey whining about you not showing up. And don’t get me started on that sister of yours. She doesn’t respect me at all. She won’t tell me what the danger in Blackwood is. She keeps saying you’re the only one Blackwood needs. I feel like I have a point to prove on Friday.”

  “Don’t take it personally, Hamis. We all appreciate you.”

  “Whatever,” he snorted. “Just don’t show up here, or I swear I’ll shove you right back into bed when I see you.”

  “Alright, I’m not going anywhere.” Jenne collapsed on his bed. “See you later?”

  “For sure.”

  Resting felt like a sin. The silence pressed in, and soon his mind began to wander. The blank ceiling above him became the perfect canvas for his imagination. Blackwood was just on the other side of it, waiting. He could feel it in his bones. He was going home to rescue everyone. That’s why he could not rest. For the next three days, he would train with the best of the best.

  He arrived at the Sorel estate within an hour. Dossi—in their black-and-white maid outfits—were everywhere on the compound, decorating the hedges for Christmas. It reminded him of the first day he had arrived at the estate: a sacred day, with the Dossi gathered at the back, listening to a tale from Renna Sorel. Life was coming full circle. He had arrived during an event and would leave during a time of festivities.

  Dossi waved as he made his way through boxes and crates. One Dossi was perched on a ladder, placing a red hat on a mounted reindeer. Hanna was not among them. She was likely busy at the back of the house. He would find her later, once his session with Schemel was done.

  "My baby," Schemel said, smiling down at him from the upper floor. “You came prepared.”

  “We had a deal, Renna,” he replied. “You gave me the best Christmas gift. In return, I’m going to train as hard as I can.”

  They stood together on the circular platform, peering at the grey world below. Schemel placed her hands on his shoulders, massaging him. “When you say you’re going to train as hard as you can, what do you mean?”

  “It means I’m not holding back.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes.”

  “Enough to face anyone and beat them—even me?”

  “I guess.”

  “Don’t guess, Jenne. You must be certain.”

  Jenne took a deep breath. “Yes, I can beat anyone.”

  Schemel scoffed, patting his shoulders. “I don’t believe you.”

  They clashed, hand-to-hand. She defeated him in seconds. Jenne did not lie on his back; he sprang up and went for a second round. A full minute into combat, she caught his ankle and snapped it. He screamed as she kicked his teeth out. Fifteen minutes later, he was back in peak condition, tingling all over.

  He bobbed on his feet, analysing the mistakes from the last two encounters. Schemel had never broken contact once she engaged. Once close, her aim was to drop him. Matching her speed was impossible. The best he could do was disengage to conserve stamina—but his plan dissolved the moment the next bout began. Schemel gave him no breathing room at all.

  Jenne rolled across the ground, evading her fists before they could smash into his jaw. Scrambling to his feet, he slipped—and she slammed her foot between his eyes. Reacting instantly, Jenne conjured light whips to snatch her swinging leg midair. He wrapped the ribbon around her leg, hobbling her, and she retaliated with two sharp strikes to his nose and chin. Schemel landed on the ground without a sound, crouching in front of the panting Jenne.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  “I’ve adapted this fighting style to give you an edge over Hamis,” she said, not a single word out of breath. “A marker’s daydream is an opponent who disengages. Whether they’re catching their breath or replenishing lost magic, markers trap and end them. You must never give them space on the battlefield. Are you ready to go again?”

  Jenne slammed his fists into the hard ground, rising and brushing himself off. Forming his stance, he waited for Schemel.

  “Wait,” he said. “How am I supposed to recover ascension if I’m always attacking? Ren Gallant says good combat ebbs and flows.”

  “I can tell you what ebbed and flowed,” she replied.

  “The Great Oppression?” he guessed.

  “The Great Oppression,” she affirmed. “We were too confident, too rigid in our methods, and we didn’t work together against the Black Army as we once had. Initially, the Black Army was no match for us, and we soared—until things changed. The earthmen had mercenaries from across the sea, and we faced two major disadvantages: inexperience and unpreparedness. The mercenaries were Grem markers, and markers are a nightmare if you don’t know how to counter them. Commander Regal faced a choice: continue retreating when markers appeared or take a risky stand and fight.”

  “The Seconders called Regis a madman for wanting to fight an enemy we couldn’t understand,” Jenne continued. “So, he took the lead and sent Regilon ahead. If Regilon fell to the Grem, so be it. The plan would fail, and a new High Commander would take charge.”

  “And the Blood Storm burned,” Schemel said, spreading her hands and widening her smile. “We never backed down, charging forward relentlessly, every Gaverian following, no longer threatened by this new enemy. The end. Do you know who petitioned the Assembly to force Regis to step down? Gerard Gallant. He never fought a marker in his life. Tenrad has no experience either. But do you know who has fought many markers—and won?” Schemel raised a thumb and pointed it at herself.

  Jenne burst into a fit of giggles. “I understand, Renna.”

  “And by the way, you’re staying here until Friday,” she said. “All this back and forth is wasting time.”

  “But I didn’t prepare.”

  “No worries. I can send someone for everything you need. Besides, no one’s touched your old room since you left for Se Fina. Don’t think about it—this is your home.”

  Jenne nodded repeatedly, forming his stance. They engaged in combat once more, and he stayed on his feet for three full minutes before Schemel thumped her hand against his chest and released him. Forces flung him across the platform, tumbling endlessly until a firm hand yanked him to a stop. Opening his eyes, he realized the ground was at least four hundred meters below him. Half his body dangled off the edge, suspended by Schemel’s grip on his collar.

  “Let’s take a break,” she said. He agreed.

  While the Dossi continued cleaning, Jenne excused himself, took a quick shower, and changed into night clothes from his wardrobe. Then he set off around the estate to find Hanna.

  In the basement, Dossi swept and gathered old card boxes into plastic bags. When he asked if they’d seen Hanna, they shook their heads. A small group scraping wax from window sills pointed him toward the third kitchen on the second floor.

  On the way, he encountered a few familiar faces—and some new ones. A girl about his age, with brown hair and freckles, jumped aside and hid behind her mop when she saw him. The others snickered as he passed.

  “Now’s your chance,” they teased her. “Come on, now, he’s getting away.”

  Jenne quickened his steps as the teasing continued behind him.

  The Dossi directed him to the storeroom on the kitchen’s upper floor. Climbing the stairs, he found Hanna on her knees, polishing the wooden floor, her back to him. Two other girls worked nearby—one cleaning windows, the other sweeping cobwebs from shelves. They were so engrossed in a loud, overlapping argument that they didn’t notice him enter.

  “…and that I should learn to respect my elders,” Hanna ranted. “Who does she think she is, talking to me like that? Does she know who I know…”

  The others quieted, focusing on their chores. Hanna, sensing a shadow, turned her head. Seeing Jenne, her shell cracked, and she rushed to her feet.

  “You almost gave me a heart attack,” she said, and they both laughed, embracing tightly. One dossi’s eyes bulged, and another murmured about Hanna finally telling the truth regarding Jenne.

  “Did you come just now?” one asked.

  “I’ve been here for a while,” he replied.

  “And you didn’t come looking for me?”

  “I thought you were busy.”

  “Yes, but at least you could’ve let me know you were here,” she said, still smiling. “So… how do you like my new dress?” Her maid uniform was an inch too wide at the waist, and the skirt fell to her ankles, but otherwise it fit well.

  “You look amazing,” he said, grinning.

  Hanna thumped him lightly on the arm. “I know I look bad in it. I borrowed it from one of the girls—it was the only one that could fit. But still, it’s good. You know how to compliment a lady, unlike your brother. Maselli acts as if saying something nice about me costs him money.”

  Jenne let her go on about how he was the better Shepherd. When she was done, they headed down to the kitchen together. Taking his wrist, she brushed past the dossi in their way, past boxes full of Christmas decorations, and rushed down the hallway, down the stairs, and into the lower floor kitchen.

  “Look!” she exclaimed, pointing at the fridge.

  He still hadn’t learned the proper name for the marker fridge. Hanna clamped her teeth together in frustration, frothing slightly at her mouth.

  “Yes, I was amazed when I saw it too,” he said, leaning in. “Have you seen the televisions in this place?”

  “They’re huge!” she yelled.

  “You should hear the stereos—it’s like they’re playing the sounds inside your head.”

  Hanna’s eyes widened. “When they shoot you through the TV, do you feel it in your gut? I heard some of the girls talking about it.”

  “It’s true. I saw someone fall into a river, and I had to check myself to make sure I wasn’t the one drowning.”

  “Come on, I want you to tell me what something else is,” she said, taking his wrist again. She led him out of the kitchen. “We’re lucky mass cleaning is happening today. We can enter anywhere and no one will question us.” She sniggered. “Look, Vera is watching us. She can’t complain that I’m lazing around because you’re with me.”

  Jenne followed Hanna into an open room—a bedroom larger than his own or anyone else’s: Schemel’s room. They greeted the cleaners quietly, stepping carefully over the rugs so as not to dirty them with their shoes.

  Hanna’s attention went straight to a hovering device by the dressing mirror. It floated above a metal plate on the ground.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “No idea,” Jenne replied. “No one knows.”

  Hanna moved on to the next object, eyes shining as she admired the gleaming perfume bottles and potions on the vanity.

  “Don’t touch anything,” warned a Dossi by the bedpost. “I’ve already told you once.”

  Hanna ignored the dossi’s warning and opened a drawer.

  “Look—”

  Jenne grabbed her hand firmly and shook his head.

  “What in the world do you think you’re doing?” he whispered harshly. “Let’s go.”

  “It’s fine,” she said, sliding onto the stool behind the stand. “Renna told us to be thorough. She said to handle everything with care—never that we couldn’t touch anything.”

  “Hanna, I don’t know...”

  “Relax, I’m just showing you something. Get down.”

  Groaning, Jenne crouched and accidentally bumped his head against hers. In the dim light, a small metallic box glinted in the drawer. Hanna stuck her tongue out and pushed the lock—it popped open, revealing a bright yellow stone glowing softly in their faces.

  “I saw it this morning,” she whispered.

  “Is that astaphite?” Jenne’s breath caught.

  “Of course it is,” she said, eyes sparkling. “Do you want it?”

  “No!” Jenne jumped to his feet. Hanna closed the box and the drawer. He restrained himself from yelling, whispering sharply, “Why would you even ask me that?”

  “We need it for…” Her eyebrows danced as her eyes darted side to side. “You know who.”

  “I’m not going to steal from Renna,” he hissed. “Besides, astaphite is dangerous if you don’t know how to handle it.”

  “You’ve never used astaphite before? I thought that was the first thing they taught you about magic.”

  “Last thing, actually,” Jenne replied. “No, I’ve never handled it. I won’t use any until I’m a Gaverian.”

  “That blows,” she said, puffing up her cheeks. “Can’t you try just a little bit?”

  “No. And let’s get out of here.”

  “Come on, I want to show you my quarters. You should feel the mattress on my bed—it’s so soft.”

  “Are you done with your duties for the day?”

  “Why, is there somewhere you want to take me?” Hanna grabbed a handful of her skirts as they descended the stairs. “Take me out and buy me some clothes. I want everyone to see I came to the city when we go back.”

  “Who said I had money?” Jenne pulled a face as she tried to fish into his pockets.

  “You have the High Commander taking care of you and you say you don’t have money,” she teased.

  “Renna is not the High Commander anymore,” he replied.

  “Whatever. You’re taking me out tonight.”

  He laughed with Hanna again, forgetting what he was about to say. In the end, it didn’t matter—Ashey and Hamis were walking through the main entrance.

  “Jenne!” Hamis called, one hand in his pocket and the other waving. Ashey hadn’t seen him yet, scanning the room with a slight frown.

  “Why do they call you that?” Hanna whispered in his ear. “I’ve been meaning to ask.”

  “It means Jeromy in Kirisi.”

  “Oh.”

  Ashey approached, her stockings ripped at the knees, shoes coated with dust, and her shirt worn and dirty. She’d been fighting again.

  “My day was ruined because of you,” she said to Jenne. “Were you avoiding me because of her? I had a nightmare that I would see you two together, and I was right.”

  “Jenne’s my baby brother,” Hanna interjected. “Ms Sorel, I told you a hundred times already.”

  Ashey scoffed, hands on her hips. “Jenne? Is it true? Tell me she’s not that girl you’ve been wishing to kiss when you were little.”

  Jenne blanched, waving at Ashey to stop. Too late.

  “Did he mention a name?” Hanna asked, catching Ashey between a frown and a glare with her sudden curiosity.

  “No,” Ashey mumbled. “Forget it.” She brushed past Hanna on her way upstairs.

  “Are you two dating or something?” Hanna asked. “I saw some billboards on my way here, but I didn’t think it meant anything.”

  Not minding Hanna, Ashey continued her climb. “I think you’re very pretty. I mean, you already know that—everyone knows that—but it’s different in person.” She leaned toward Jenne. “She’s so adorable. I sort of understand why Maselli insulted me over her mother.”

  Ashey’s shoulders tightened, breath shortened, and heart raced. Furious for no reason, Jenne nearly extended a hand to move Hanna out of the way—when Schemel appeared at the top of the stairs. Ashey’s temper dropped in an instant, overshadowed by Schemel’s calm, commanding gaze.

  “You were fighting again.”

  “Mom, I—”

  “It’s about something stupid. I don’t care,” Schemel said with a sigh. “How was the exam?”

  “Fine.”

  “And where is Hamis?”

  “Gone.”

  “Get yourself ready for dinner,” said Schemel. “You’ll study for your next paper thereafter. Have a good evening, Sweetie.” She kissed Ashey on the brow. Ashey walked away without another remark.

  “They look so much alike,” Hanna whispered into Jenne’s ear again. “You’re so lucky to have a girlfriend like that. And you’re dumb enough to get her stressed over somebody from home.”

  “It was Lesley,” hissed Jenne. “I thought we were going to get married!”

  “Lesley will not forgive you if you fumble Renna’s daughter.”

  Jenne gave up, running away from the conversation. Hanna tagged closely behind. She chittered. “What are you so afraid of?”

  “It’s not like that with her,” said Jenne. “I’m not like that with anyone, for that matter. I’m focused on saving Blackwood.”

  “Oh, like you knew about Blackwood before I told you. What is it? She’s too much for you? You don’t like exotic things.”

  “Yellow hair is strange to me.”

  “Your dear mother would be so proud to know her son is a bigot. Mari is a foreigner to us Blackens herself but Aron did not have a problem with that.”

  “I’m not having this conversation.”

  Hanna laughed so loud that dossi stopped working to watch them. She slapped Jenne on the back and said she was about to get ready for dinner.

  Jenne, realizing he was not leaving for Se Fina, found himself wanting. Following his natural instincts, he followed Hanna to her quarters.

  They talked on the way there about so many things. They talked at the entrance to the Dossi quarters. They talked in her room. They talked as she got out of her uniform and hit the shower. They talked when she got back and changed into her nightgown. He did not know he had so much to say to her. They talked, following the maids to their private dining hall, where they had meals prepared and served behind long tables.

  “Jerry, don’t you think this place is a bit too dull?” she said as she took her place at the table. “Light up the room with your magic.”

  Jenne refused.

  “You could have a plate of some yams and soup if you want," the Renna Dossi said from behind him. At the corner of his eye, he thought he’d seen Aunt Patrica. “We would love it if you joined us for dinner.”

  He had not eaten but did not want to join them. Declining the second offer, he felt obligated to conform to the first. Shaking his fingers loose, he set his lights free, and ribbons of ascension hung around the table and walls, lighting up the place. The dossi applauded.

  “See you tomorrow, Hanna.”

  “You’re leaving so soon?”

  “I’m right upstairs in case you need me,” said Jenne.

  Hanna smiled once and nodded, a mouthful of food. “See you tomorrow,” she said, shooting morsels into the air. “Wait, before you go, let me tell you something.” Hanna met him far away from the guest table. They went out into the fog and spoke in low tones.

  “Think about that astaphite we could’ve gotten today. I know you’re scared, but I think Renna Sorel really cares for you. You have to start taking stuff from her. Anything you can. She knows a lot about magic things that could end Franka in an instant. Go and see her right now and find out what can be done."

  A knock on Schemel’s door saw him walk in. In front of a desk, the Mistress of the house sat with paper and pen in hand. Schemel was dressed for the evening in a silver satin nightgown. She had a pair of reading glasses on. She looked good with them on despite it not making a lick of sense as to why she needed them in the first place. Ascenders lived without blemishes.

  “We can take a break today if you want,” she said.

  He did not take that as an answer. Jenne approached her bookshelf, read the spines, and jabbed at the one with a yellow jacket, with the inscription A Thousand Ascenders. Placing it on the desk in front of him, she dropped her pen and raised her eyebrows at him.

  Right before she spoke, streaks of burning light shot past her window. They rushed to the window and peered out. Two trails of silver lights cut across the dark sky. With the entire house rumbling, they both knew who that was. Hamis and Isse, bouncing against the hills. Boulders shot from the earth, disappearing behind the night clouds, then coming back down. One streak of light would shoot up and smash through it. The lights spiralled around one another, tearing across the ocean and rushing back to land, splitting through the sand.

  Jenne clutched his chest while Schemel dug her chin into the top of his head, resting her arms as well.

  “We fought the Grem and defeated them. That’s the simple account of events. Not many people know this, but Blood Storm has begged for mercy more than once. He crawled into the earth and ate dirt. His men had seen him cower in fear before. And it was a child who was responsible. A girl about your age, stripped away from her kin to Henrikia to fight in a war she had no business fighting. She, Jenne, was no ordinary marker. She is Eden Nyte, Rank Spectre; that's Reggie’s rank.”

  “She wasn’t on our side from the start?”

  “Out of fear of my grandfather, she joined us against the Black Army and has been loyal to our flag ever since. And now, we have not just one but two of her children fighting for our country in the near future.” Turning him around, she placed a finger under his chin and tilted his head so he could see her wide green eyes.

  “Now, what do you want to learn from my book?”

  “Anything. We’ve been doing a lot of physical training. I thought learning a few spells would help.”

  “Very well, then. Make yourself comfortable.” She directed him to her bed, and made him sit on it. Jenne sat at the edge, wondering why he couldn’t take a seat next to her beside the desk. Schemel took hold of the book, opening it in the middle and staring at the content. Could she read Aren like Verimae?

  “This book is unlike the others, you see. You don’t read it, you experience it.”

  She joined him beside the bed, placing the book on her lap. The page she’d opened had one full design covering both pages to the left and right. It was a symbol on the windows, carpets, and furniture. The same symbol appeared on countless statues across Henrik City. It was the hex known as Sovi. Three circles, the smaller within the larger.

  “You should not be intimidated by markers. We are superior to them in skill and power as we’ve proved time and time again. We are better than them in many ways, including this less than humane way.” She brushed her hand over the symbol.

  “This is why Eden joined Henrikia. My grandfather wielded the power of Sovinsansel Drei Dominio Augnum.”

  “The sun of suns that devours all,” said Jenne, withholding his interest. “Everyone is afraid of that. It doesn’t matter if you’re a marker, a crafter, or anything else. No one can stand up to the sun.”

  “Can you teach me how to cast it?”

  She forced a smile and shook her head. “Some things are better forgotten,” she said.

  Jenne’s disappointment rubbed off on her. Her mouth worked and she was quick to stammer. “The reason I showed this to you was so you could understand your potential. I didn’t want you to be intimidated by Hamis.”

  Quickly, she turned over the page, showing off another diagram. This time a golden ring with the Sovi carved into it.

  “Lady Mariel’s ring,” said Jenne.

  “Yes,” said Schemel, forced. “Whoever wears this ring casts Sovisansel. It has no bearing on the spell itself, however.”

  “It’s symbolic.”

  “Exactly. The Sorel who wears the Ring shows the world who to fear. It commands authority.”

  “Why does Lady Mariel have it, then? She’s not a magic user.”

  “This was an act of diplomacy by my father. Ashel chose Mariel because she doesn’t know magic. We were showing the world that the Sorels would not terrorize the world with Sovisansel as long as Mariel wore the ring.” Schemel scratched through her hair, wincing at one moment and relaxing the next.

  “One day, when Mariel and I are gone, Ashamel will be the one to wear it.”

  Such a shame she didn’t teach him the one spell he needed against Franka. This night was proving to be a waste of time. He couldn’t just leave without trying.

  “What if I promise not to use it against Hamis? Would you teach me then? I’ll use it later, when I face another threat.”

  “You’re clinging to the hope of returning to Blackwood.” He did not know how to respond. She squirmed, as if pinched. Schemel let go of her squeezed-in face and sighed.

  “You’ll need to know how to handle astaphite first. Go for the one in my drawer. You know which one.”

  He took out the box and it burned like coals in his hands. Jenne’s jelly feet couldn’t carry him from the dressing mirror to the bedpost. Handing it over as soon as he could, Schemel got him to relax before popping the box open. The yellow stone illuminated her face, reflecting in her green eyes.

  “Are you ready?” she asked, hovering the gem over his open palm. Already, an invisible force was pinching his skin upward. It tickled.

  “Any tips?”

  “Some things are best experienced,” she said, and dropped the stone in his hand.

  This was crazy. Ascension was moving through his skin in the opposite direction. It was like someone was scraping a blade against his bones, splitting his veins open and pumping lead into them. His hand trembled, and he gripped Schemel’s arm, rising to his feet.

  “Help me,” he said. “My hand is getting heavy.”

  “Calm down,” she said, amused. “It will pass.”

  It did not pass. Someone had swapped his bones for a metal frame. He was stuck on his back and his eyes kept looking up. Wasn’t he supposed to be feeling lighter, faster, more alert?

  “JENNE?” Why was she yelling? She snapped her fingers and it boomed in his ears.

  “TRY TO MOVE YOUR BODY. YOU DON’T WANT TO RELAX WITH THIS MUCH ASCENSION IN YOU.”

  She did not help him up, and she would not stop yelling! He rose up just to smack that mouth off her face. Lights tossed him upward, and now he was stuck to the ceiling. Jenne came crashing down, but it didn’t hurt. Schemel covered her hand with her mouth, burning red.

  “It’s not funny,” he snarled. “You think this is funny?”

  “JENNE, IT’S JUST ME,” she said, opening up her arms. “COME OVER.”

  “Why?” he said. “What do you want from me? I’m not a baby. I’m a grown man and I hate babies!”

  People were coming. They had heard him yelling. Their footsteps. God, their footsteps were so loud. It’s the same as before. You’re burning up. Who is burning up? I’m on fire. My chest. Am I going to die? You’re going to die. NO! You’re going to die! Is that stupid stone? You took that stone. Who knows what it could do to you?

  He broke down in tears, falling on his knees. His skin was glowing and he didn’t know why. “Maybe I’m a fairy,” he said, weeping.

  Thunderous footsteps approached him. It was a giant golden-haired woman. She reached out and took his hand, leading him to the promised land. She sat him down on a bed and knelt in front of him, stroking him on the shoulder while eyes watched from the door. So many eyeballs slicking in their sockets. It icked him how much they blinked. Schemel’s lips smacked a lot. The sound disgusted him.

  “Are you okay now?” she whispered.

  Jenne was not okay. Whenever he tried to speak, he would cry.

  “My baby, what’s wrong?”

  “Hanna is lying to me,” he mumbled, scrubbing his nose with the back of her hand.

  “No way are they alive. There’s no way.”

  “Oh,” she said, stroking him still, in a slow and gentle way. “Was it something she said?”

  He nodded. “When we were talking about Ashey’s hair, she referred to my father in the past tense. She said, '...Aron did not have a problem with that.’”

  “Jenne, aren’t you overreacting just a little bit?”

  “You think so?”

  “Yes, you should be okay when you wake up tomorrow,” she said. “Then you can confront her yourself. I’m sure your parents are doing just fine in Blackwood.”

  “Thank you, Renna.”

  Embarrassing. His cruel mind played last night’s events in crystal clear display. His bizarre visions usually faded from memory, which made this experience stand out. One other difference was how he felt this morning. No headaches, no drag—nothing. He felt like a thunderbolt, awake and alert. Who would have thought the effects of a small lump of astaphite would last this long?

  A log lay on his chest. Not a log but an arm. Schemel’s arm, joined to her body. She was asleep beside him, on her bed, in her room. Check again. Schemel’s arm. Her bed. Her bedroom. Distant church bells chimed from far out into the city. Outside the door, dossi were moving about. Ashey’s voice was distant, as was Helen’s.

  As slowly as possible, he lifted her fingers off his chest and placed them on the bed. He stretched out one leg and whispered, “Rest, Love,” into the bedsheet.

  “The effects haven’t completely worn off yet.”

  “I’ll be in my bedroom.”

  “It takes a journey to reach your room. You won’t make it that far before you blow half my house away.”

  “Renna—”

  She jabbed a finger into the mattress. Jenne lay on his back, his fingers crisscrossing over his beating heart. If anyone was to blame for all of this, it was Hanna.

  “Come closer,” she said. She was half asleep and mumbling things in a dream. He ignored her until she grabbed him by the shirt and dragged him until they were an inch apart. Her powdery smell got in his head. Jenne wasn’t sure what this was about, and it was getting harder to find a reasonable explanation. Her eyes opened, and they were as green as nature.

  “Is this a dream?” he asked.

  “I wish it was,” she said. “Sometimes, I wish I won’t wake up. What is all that I’m fighting for worth, if you don’t love me enough to stay? Is there something you want that I’m not giving you?”

  “I have everything I need, Renna.”

  She closed her eyes as though she needed to do so before his words made sense.

  “Jenne, can I ask you to do something for me right now?”

  “Sure, anything.”

  “Well, when I was a little girl, my grandfather would pat me on my head and compliment me whenever I was down.”

  “Okay?”

  “I want you to do that to me,” she said.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I’m having a bad time, so I want you to pat me on the head and compliment me.” Her smile was soft, barely touching her eyes. The lumps in his throat swelled. May he choke on them and die. She rolled onto her back and lay still.

  This would be the last time he’d come into this room alone. Jenne placed a hand on her brow and flinched at the moment she moved slightly. In his hand, he felt a few strands of her hair. As softly as he could, he stroked her head.

  “Um, should I do it again?” he asked.

  She was about to speak when a knock on the door interrupted her. Jenne stayed put while she approached it, grabbing a morning coat from a post. The dossi at the door said she had guests, and Schemel continued out. Ashey met Schemel and asked where Jenne was. Schemel did not respond. When would Ashey leave? He was not in the mood to take her to school today. Hamis’s scent spread through the compound as his marker friend escorted Ashey away.

  When all was quiet, Jenne got out of bed and tiptoed to the entrance. He hoped no one would notice him coming out. His hopes were tossed out the window—every servant was staring.

  Jenne did not greet anyone as he passed. He avoided making eye contact with the women, scanning the main hall for the guests. The only person he found was the lady who used to follow Schemel everywhere—the Firstman no one took seriously. He couldn’t remember her name. She was clutching some files and staring straight back at him.

  He looked away and entered his room, finding his phone dead on the bed. After charging it, he sifted through his texts—all from Ashey. There were about a hundred messages about Hanna, apologies for getting angry, worried notes asking if he needed space. Then came a call asking why he was ignoring her, followed by another text promising to be a better friend if he wouldn’t leave her.

  …Please, say something.

  He was supposed to tell Ashey that her mother had kissed him once. Did it even matter? It had happened long ago. He lay on his back, eyes closed, rotting away until a knock on the door interrupted him. Schemel’s assistant stood there.

  “Hello, do you mind if we talk?” she asked. “You remember me, right?”

  “Marissa,” guessed Jenne.

  “Yes.”

  They stood behind the railing, overlooking the main floor. Marissa hummed a tune softly.

  “You wanted to talk to me?” Jenne asked.

  “Yes, of course. How are you?”

  "I'm fine.”

  “Good, that’s good. I saw you staring at me earlier. It’s been a while since it was just the three of us—on a ride, finding investors. Today felt like one of those days.”

  “Are those Renna’s guests?”

  “Yes. The war didn’t go according to plan. Renna has to pay the money back somehow.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  “It is, but someone has to bear the cost. If there was ever a time, I would choose to be Renna, it wouldn’t be now. Her lifelong dream for the Midder-Lands is in shambles, and she returns disgraced, bound by Shaphet’s Law. Former allies have joined the enemy to mock the nation she loved. Even Soden’s getting a cut of the Midder-Lands now.”

  “What did President Luis do to get that?”

  “He promised to defend Sexton in the event of an all-out war,” said Marissa. “Our relationship with Soden is declining, especially now that they’ve turned a blind eye to the Banner. And to top it off, Jacqolin is coming back. Even if Schemel wanted to intervene in the Midder-Lands, she couldn’t. Jacqolin is High Commander now, with the Assembly’s favour. He’s far more powerful than Schemel. It’s only a matter of time before he strips away what little she has left.”

  “What is that?”

  “The love of the people.”

  Men appeared in the guest chambers—old and young, familiar and unfamiliar. Schemel moved among them, speaking warmly, her composure unshaken. Despite the turmoil in her life, she seemed… alright.

  “Jenne,” said Marissa. “Are you okay?”

  Jenne nodded. Marissa offered a tight smile, opened her file, and handed him a complimentary card. Black with gold inlays, it read: House of Sentry, Private Affairs Secretary. Marissa Spearhead.

  “Have my number,” she said. “Text me if you want to talk… or whatever.”

  He watched her rush down the stairs to join the departing guests. Schemel didn’t flinch as Marissa brushed past. Such confidence. Such composure. Jenne thought she must be underestimating her, but of course—nothing ever escaped Schemel.