They sat together in a jail cell—except for Jay, who was separated from the earthen women. His government would come looking for him soon enough. For now, he had to endure the sight of the ugly earthens staring at him from their own cell.

  “I would’ve let them die if it had been me,” one officer said. When the policemen brought them in, a receptionist at the desk had barely bothered to profile them. He pointed to the back and had the officers lock them up. From the size of his belly and the bowl of curry hidden behind the counter, Jay doubted he’d be much of a hindrance.

  From his angle, Jay could see not only the fat receptionist but also the mounted television. He guessed Mari and her cellmate could watch it too. A coworker from the floor above came down to chat with the receptionist, and the pair launched into endless think pieces.

  “People are stupid most of the time,” the fat man said. “Stay inside for the next hour. No—who knows what you’d run into if you went out there. We should let them die.”

  “That’s a bit harsh,” his friend replied with a nervous laugh.

  “How? It’s unfair that a hardworking man with a good wife and a home would risk his neck to save some lunatic running around in the sun storm. That’s what I told Benedict the last time. I said, ‘Look, you’re a married man now. It’d be a real shame to lose your good life because some fool needs saving. If idiots run into the sun storm, let them. These days we don’t die for anyone.’”

  “Who is he, anyway?” the friend asked. “I heard he caused trouble in one of our safe zones.”

  “Who knows. He calls himself a Gaverian. Probably got the shirt off one of the corpses washing up on shore. All I know is he’s some pervert who got caught before the worst happened.”

  The rant soon diverged into milder topics—about how the Banner was turning every young man in the country into a brave fool. People hadn’t stood up to the police as much until the Bannermen showed up. Then suddenly it was “cool” to “rebel.” The officer’s words, not Jay’s.

  It was around seven at night. They’d been here for over twelve hours. You’d think he was an impatient bastard who would lose his mind after being confined in one place for so long. But he’d spent longer in confinement before.

  Following his graduation from Se Fina, Schemel had conscripted Jay into the Red Army to fight by her side in her campaign to claim the Midder-Lands. He was young, new to war, and thought he could achieve in a day what Schemel had failed to accomplish in a year.

  Jay had shown his full strength in his first real battle, breaking from protocol and charging deep into enemy territory despite the call to retreat. He was overpowered by the Sexite Gaverians, eventually captured when he could no longer fight.

  Calimer bargained for lost territories with Jay’s life. Jay didn’t know which was worse—the fact that he had been captured like a fool, or the way he had been rescued. In response, Schemel reported the incident to Jacqolin, informing Jay’s father that Jay had been tortured to death. Jacqolin announced that he would abandon his own campaign up north, return home, and find the man responsible for Jay’s death. Calimer released Jay the next morning, providing him an escort to ensure he returned to the Henrikian camp safely.

  Jay wondered back then—and still does to this day—why Jacqolin was feared so much. In terms of ability, Jay was far superior to Jacqolin when Jacqolin was at his age. Yet if you asked anyone, they would insist it wasn’t true—that Jac was on a completely different level.

  The evening news centred on the disaster at the Marian Gulf, where seven Henrikian warships had been massacred after a fierce battle with a Solvarian merchant ship. There was no mention of Genevie or her whereabouts.

  The newly appointed president of Soden, President Admen, was calling for calm across all ten city-states. It seemed Henrikia was not the only country in chaos. Whoever President Admen was, he had inherited the troubles of the Banner, coupled with a surge of immigrants from the UCL. To make matters worse, there was a steady rise in sun sickness caused by the sun storm Schemel’s sun spell had unleashed.

  Another officer walked in—a tall, lanky fellow in a dark raincoat. Water dripped from his coat onto the floor mat. He greeted the fat officer and asked where the offenders were. The fat man made a dismissive gesture. The lanky officer then asked where they kept the inmates’ belongings.

  “The usual place,” the fat man replied, yawning. “Long night. Any signs of trouble out there?”

  “Not really.”

  The lanky officer stepped out of Jay’s line of sight. He was still conversing with the fat one, but that no longer interested Jay. Why had the man asked to see where the inmates’ belongings were kept?

  When they’d arrived, they had to surrender all their possessions—of which Jay had none. The skinny earthen woman with Mari had a few items: an old phone and some cash. Mari had to hand over the card, which the officers assumed was an ordinary photograph.

  Was this the same officer who had worn the suit earlier that day? Jay hadn’t seen his face, but the height and build didn’t match.

  “Salomae,” said Mari quietly. “It’s the one Genevie calls Salomae, isn’t it?”

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  “You saw what happened in the grocery store,” said Jay. “Genevie’s swayer is determined to have that card.”

  “Alright, see you later,” said the lanky man, heading for the exit. Nothing about his demeanour had changed.

  “Benedict, wait,” said the fat officer. “Can you drop this off at my place for me? I don’t know when the boss might be back, and I don’t want him returning to find this place empty again.”

  “Leave it to Kelly, then,” the lanky officer said, tilting his chin toward the stairs.

  “She’s covered for me too often. I don’t want to upset her.”

  The lanky officer snorted and told the fat man to hurry.

  Jay snorted too and shifted on the bench, making himself as comfortable as he could. He hid his face against his elbows, trying to blot out the chatter around him.

  “Master Arson,” Mari called.

  “Master Arson,” the other one called.

  “Master Arson,” they hissed together.

  “Keep it down in there,” barked the fat officer.

  “Jay,” Mari whispered. “Please — look at me.”

  She dared call him by his first name. That alone irritated him enough to sit up and snap. “Leave me alone,” he said.

  “Your interest in Ezra may differ from ours, but you’re not working with Genevie,” Mari said. “Otherwise the swayer wouldn’t have threatened you for the card.”

  “So what?”

  “We don’t have what it takes to stop the swayer from getting away—but you do.”

  Jay chuckled. He had one question. “What does Genevie want from Ezra?”

  “They’re taking her to Solvaria,” Mari said. “Where the Saint of Kil’Emis will execute her.”

  “For an earthen, you know a lot,” Jay said. He wouldn’t question her knowledge. He had what he needed to know. “If Genevie wants Ezra dead, then I’m not your friend. Genevie wants Ezra dead. I want Ezra dead immediately. I’ve learned patience. If I wait, I’ll get what I want.”

  The lanky officer—Benedict—stepped out into the rainy night.

  “You don’t understand,” Mari said. “Ezra is not the one I’m trying to protect.”

  “Who, then?”

  “Everyone else.”

  Jay rose from the bench and moved to the edge of the cell, fixated on Mari’s words. “Who the hell is Ezra?”

  “I don’t know,” Mari said. “But I can tell you what she’s capable of. The more people try to kill her, the more people will die.”

  Ezra. Could it really be the same Ezra tied to Blackwood’s mystery? Votress had died in that village. Schemel avoided the place like a plague. An earthen ascender had emerged there — and he, Jay, had almost died there. Ezra.

  “What are you looking for, Master Arson?” Mari asked. “Why are you here? Perhaps, if you tell me, I can offer something better.”

  “My powers are gone,” he said, pointing to his dulled blue eyes. “Killing Ezra is the only way I get them back.”

  “Maybe if you help us free her, she’ll help you regain them,” the skinny earthen offered, a little too eager.

  “It’s true,” Mari said. “Ezra knows a great deal. She will help you, no doubt.”

  This might be the smartest — or the most foolish — decision he would make. These earthens could be wrong, merely making an emotional appeal. “Ezra, huh,” he said. “How about lending me some power right now?”

  Jay stepped back and stomped on the cell gate.

  The fat officer yelled a warning.

  “You’re telling me Genevie wasn’t the most powerful sorceress on that ship,” Jay shouted, stomping on the gate again. “How about you show me how great and powerful you are by giving me the power to rescue you.” He stamped with full force. The bars tore free from their concrete anchors and slammed down with a thunderous thud.

  “Stop right there!” the officer screamed, pistol raised. “Don’t move a muscle. Kelly, get down here now!” He trembled, glancing between Jay and the stairs, torn between two horrid choices: attack or retreat. “Kelly!”

  In a flash, Jay stepped beside him, grabbed his wrist, wrenched the gun free, and hit him hard across the head. The officer slumped; the pistol clattered onto the counter. Jay stepped out into the rain.

  A police vehicle’s engine coughed to life; its headlights cut through the downpour. It skidded, turned, and drove into the street. Another cruiser sat parked near the entrance. He could steal it and chase the thief.

  Or…

  Jay eyed the signpost at the side of the road. He reached it, grabbed the metal pole with both hands, and wrenched it free from the ground. He gauged the speeding car and thrust the pole like a spear. It smashed through the back glass. The vehicle careened off the road and into the drainage.

  Kelly’s office lights were on, but the officer herself was nowhere to be seen through the window. Jay could see her moving inside, phone to her ear. They were in real trouble now.

  The officer—Benedict, the lanky man who’d likely been under the swayer’s influence—sat dead behind the wheel, the metal rod rammed through the driver’s seat, through the dead man’s spine and out his chest. The horn screamed on and on. Jay opened the car door, leaned the corpse back, and searched the pockets until his fingers brushed something smooth and hard.

  He pulled out the card. Rain zigzagged across the print of Ezra’s face. The drawing was black and spare—her Solvarian face lined with sorrow. “We finally meet,” Jay muttered, rubbing his thumb over the tears inked on her cheek.

  The borrowed power was gone. He didn’t know who’d lent it to him—Ezra, or the pale woman standing in the middle of the car park. Frennie watched him. Maybe she’d given him the strength to break free and kill Ezra once and for all.

  “If Ezra’s as powerful as they say, why can’t she free herself?” Jay asked aloud. “Why does she need help?”

  Frennie appeared beside him. They both stared at the card. “She’s pretty,” Frennie said. “Such a shame. Rip her in half. You owe no one your life.”

  Jay kept staring at the card. Could he do it? Was he prepared to spend the rest of his life without magic? That’s what would happen if the earthens were wrong about Ezra.

  “If there was nothing special about this girl, you wouldn’t travel across the continent to witness her death,” Jay said. Frennie vanished.

  Jay hurried back into the cell. The fat officer lay unconscious on the floor. He grabbed the keys from the man’s belt and opened Mari’s door. The two women sat frozen, eyes locked on him. Jay revealed the card and handed it to Mari.

  “There’s a swayer after us, and I killed a policeman,” he said. “I hope you understand our situation.”

  Mari nodded slowly. “I’ll do anything to set her free.”

  “Good,” Jay said. “Because I’m counting on you two.”

  That would do for now.

  He took the fat man’s keys, climbed into the driver’s seat and sat for a long moment, staring at his reflection in the mirror—dirty, exhausted, weak. Beside him, Mari and the other girl clambered into the back. For a second Jay just watched them—women in drab clothes who smelled of sewage, unused to sitting inside a car.

  “I know where to go,” the girl beside Mari said. “If you can take us.”

  Jay didn’t answer.

  “We have a friend ahead of us,” she added. “She’s safe with the Banner.”

  Did he want to hitch himself to these people?

  “They say the police don’t bother going into Banner territory,” she said.

  Jay asked himself one last time: is this what I want?

  He started the car and raced into the night. Why did it have to be him?