Leaving their horses tethered at the fish farmer’s house, the beasts were far too exhausted to make the climb, Magdala led her friends up the path to Scrytive Vogt’s cabin.

  “Ugh, I stepped in something.”

  Magdala glanced back. Francesca’s foot had sunk into a muddy pot hole, and she was struggling to get it out without dropping her package for Mei.

  “Aren’t you glad you aren’t wearing your nice boots?” Magdala had had to convince her roommate to wear rough clothes for the trip.

  Saundra went back. “Do you need help, miss?”

  “Oh!” Francesca beamed. “Could you please, Sergeant?”

  Saundra beamed back. “Of course.”

  As Magdala resumed course, the following question came to mind: was Francesca’s constant fawning over Saundra preferable to her constant complaints about the outdoors? Technically, yes, but only because this was Francesca being subtle.

  Magdala clutched her own package for Mei to her chest. Hopefully, her friend was okay.

  “Don’t worry, milady.” Saundra’s long legs caught her up to Magdala, even as she kept one eye on Francesca’s progress. “There ain’t - aren’t - any signs anyone’s been up here lately.”

  Magdala held her package tighter. “They could have flown.”

  “And then snuck up on Mei? Hah!” said Francesca. “I’d like to see them try.”

  “Especially if they’re unarmed,” stated Saundra.

  Magdala blinked. “Why would they be?”

  “Lieutenant Hill says every doun cuts off an hour of flight time.” Saundra caught Magdala’s surprised expression and waved it off. “She plans aerial assaults while flying.”

  “Why?” asked Francesca.

  “Boredom.”

  “Well, magic doesn’t weigh anything,” Magdala pointed out, “and they could come in force.”

  “Mags,” Francesca grabbed Magdala’s shoulder and hauled herself forward, “there are, at most, seven fighting mages in the whole of the queendom.”

  “Are we counting bandits?” asked Magdala.

  Saundra scoffed. “Mei can handle bandits.”

  “But-”

  “Stop worrying.” Francesca pointed. “We’ve arrived.”

  Scrytive Vogt’s cabin stood at the back of a clearing in the shadow of an ancient doak whose red and brown leaves blanketed the ground. More importantly, there was smoke coming out of a chimney hidden behind the roof.

  “Oh, good, she’s up.” Magdala advanced. “Let’s go.”

  “Wait.” Francesca yanked Magdala back. “What’s the plan?”

  Magdala glowered at her. “We know the plan.”

  Her roommate was unfazed. “Yes, of course, we do. So say it.”

  Magdala rolled her eyes. “Fine. Here’s the plan: I go and ask how she is. If she’s clearly injured, I don’t mention Dwayne.”

  “Because she’ll want to help,” said Saundra.

  “And?” Francesca prompted.

  “And if she’s too… upset, I won’t either.” Magdala frowned. “Won’t she be more upset if we don’t tell her?”

  “Time is the only thing that has a chance of helping Mei after nearly killing her own brother,” said Francesca. “We’ll make sure she has enough. Now, Sergeant Taylor,” this was said with only the barest hint of glee, “and I will stay out here and hold the- what was it you called it?”

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  “The rear,” said Saundra.

  Francesca beamed. “Yes, of course. The rear. Also,” she shoved her package for Mei into Magdala’s arms, “give this to her.”

  Magdala eyed her roommate. “Is that all?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” Magdala steeled herself. “I’m off.”

  Each step towards the cabin raised Magdala’s anxiety. What if Mei really was too injured to help? What if she actually hated Dwayne and didn’t care if he lived or died? What if, after all these weeks away, Mei had realized she wanted nothing to do with any of them? After dragging herself through desert and jungle, fighting dragons and corpse puppets, and even nearly getting herself and her brother blown to bits, did Mei still value their friendship?

  Stop it. Magdala was Mei’s friend, and friends made sure friends were okay.

  Magdala stepped onto the porch, and, after getting everything she held under control, raised her hand to knock on the door. It opened, revealing Mei wrapped in a wool blanket, hair slightly messy.

  “Oh!” Magdala waved instead. “Uh, hi. We’re here.”

  Mei said nothing, only blinked. Behind her, Vogt’s cabin resembled a slaughterhouse, with hanks of meat hanging from the ceiling and a massive pelt folded up on the table. Those felt normal for Mei, but the trash, the wrapping papers, and the dirty dishes didn’t. Was this a sign Mei wasn’t ready?

  Magdala cleared her throat. “May I come in?”

  Another slow blink.

  “Or I can stand out here, that’s fine.”

  Another slow blink. Mei stepped back from the door.

  “Oh, okay. Thanks.” Magdala stepped in. “So…We came. For you, I mean.”

  Mei’s eyes shifted to look over Magdala’s shoulder. “Why?”

  Words. Words were good. “Because we couldn’t find you after Dwayne- I mean, afterwards.” Magdala placed her and Francesca’s packages on the table. “We’re sorry it took so long. We, I, forgot you knew Scrytive Vogt. Francesca had to figure it out.”

  Mei drifted away from the door. “And Saundra?”

  “She was in town for training and wanted to meet you, and she… Oh!” Magdala opened her package and pulled something out. “She brought this.”

  Forged from a single block of steel, the ax from head to handle was fifty lowirs long, and etched into its blade was a winged dragon in flight, its tail trailing down onto the green leather handle.

  Magdala placed it on the table. “You don’t have to take it, of course.” No reaction. “I just thought you’d want to see it.” That sounded lame, spoken aloud.

  Mei ran her fingers up the ax’s shaft. Then she sighed. “Where’s Dwayne?”

  “W-why do you ask?”

  “Saundra,” Mei’s eyes flicked to the door, “has her weapon out, Fran is wearing brown, and you,” her eyes flicked back to Magdala, “have not told me how Dwayne’s examination went. What happened?”

  Cups, she was too observant. “We came for you, not him.”

  Mei looked dazed. “You rode all the way here for me?”

  Magdala’s jaw dropped. “We… didn’t… How did you know that?”

  “Guessed.”

  Cups. “I just want to be a good friend.” Time to ask directly. “How are you doing?”

  Mei gave a weak shrug, a less than satisfying answer.

  “Okay.” Remember, Mei needed time. “Okay. Then can you get dressed? You can catch up with Francesca and Saundra, and then we’ll talk.”

  Another weak shrug.

  “Okay.” Magdala stepped through the door and onto the porch. “Don’t worry about the other things. They’re for later.”

  Weak shrug.

  Not good. They were back to gestures.

  “I’ll be back.” Magdala made sure to close the door behind her before rejoining Francesca and Saundra.

  “How is she?” asked Francesca.

  “I don’t know,” answered Magdala, “but she knows something’s up with Dwayne.”

  Francesca’s eyes narrowed. “What did you say?”

  “Nothing! Apparently, seeing you in brown was enough to tip her off.”

  “Ah, she knows me so well.”

  Saundra groaned. “I don’t think we-”

  “Qesheffuf!” The ground beneath them opened up. “Qesheffuf.”

  The ground closed up, burying Magdala and her friends in mud up to the neck as Delma Lo Duca alighted, a Qe core glittering on her neck.

  “I must thank your Dwayne for introducing me to that spell,” she said. “It’s exceptional at capturing targets.”

  Magdala shouted, “Qechinututem!”

  Nothing happened.

  Delma grinned. “We came prepared.”

  Two keening sets of smoky orange beads landed on Magdala and Francesca’s heads. Tytumber.

  “That was easy.” A green-cloaked mage emerged from the forest. “This is who defeated you at Latia?”

  “Talbot, don’t make me flay you,” said Delma. “Where’s Mei?”

  “In the cabin,” said whoever had dropped the beads on Magdala’s head. “I saw her at the door.”

  “Good, she’s trapped.”

  Magdala laughed. “No, she’s not.”

  Talbot scowled. “You think that a lone Queasie can take down six elite cenobites and two powerful mages alone?”

  “I know she can.” Magdala noted that Talbot was only a wir or so away from her and Francesca. Tytumber must have a limited range. “She took down at least that many at Latia.”

  Talbot’s face twisted. “That’s only because her idiot brother-”

  “Talbot,” Delma enunciated each ‘t’ in his name, “we don’t have time. The Day of Cleansing is nigh. Nimbus, Baiz, Hill, go get Mei.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  A squad of three cenobites in steel chainmail and full-faced helmets advanced towards the cabin. When they reached it, two of them leveled heavy spears while the third kicked the door to splinters. All three disappeared into the building. Silence. Then one of them reappeared, shaking her head.

  Delma whirled on Magdala. “Where is she?”

  Magdala only grinned.

  “Useless.” Delma kicked Magdala in the jaw. “You three, search the forest. Find the girl!”