It wasn’t long before Veil’s End had been stripped bare, and the caravan was ready to leave. Almost everyone had a slipsack by now, so packing up their meager belongings was as simple as picking it up and sending a mental nudge to the bag, where it vanished into the memory space. The only Veilstriders who needed help packing up were the leatherworkers helping Carla outfit their little army with the padding and protection Harvey couldn’t provide himself. Even those wearing plate armor needed good clothes to wear underneath it, so many Veilstriders had earned a lot of levels as tailors and leatherworkers. They had piles of pelts and skins hanging from racks the builders had erected for them, but even those disappeared into a pile of slipsacks in a matter of minutes.

  Harvey had asked them to leave a few things behind so the Outpost would still look lived-in from above. The amphitheater they’d built remained untouched, and they made sure to leave cots and crates visible in any buildings with holes in the roof. His plan was meaningless if a quick fly-by of the general atop his dragon could instantly confirm the Outpost was empty.

  Maybe I can inscribe some mist arrays or something. Or smoke. He wondered as he watched the caravan assemble.

  “Are you sure you want to stay?” Elena asked

  “I’m sure,” Harvey smiled, wrapping her in another hug.

  “Why don’t I stay with you? So you’re not alone,” she offered.

  “No, you can’t evolve here, and they are going to need a great inscriber to help prepare for the final battle.”

  “Oh, really? Sounds like they need you then. You’re better than I am by now,” she urged.

  “We both know that isn’t true. If I could use Soul Forge with your inscriptions, I’d choose yours in a heartbeat. If it’s anything other than a lightning array, you’ve got me beat,” Harvey chuckled.

  “Damn right,” she laughed. “Goodbye, Harvey.”

  “See you later,” he corrected.

  Buttercup trotted over to them, and Hannah leaned down to hug him as he patted the deer’s neck. “I’ll drag Julian back here as soon as I can. Probably going to be a few days though.”

  “That’s fine. Just shout when you get here so I can make sure you don’t set off any of my traps,” Harvey said.

  “Dang it… I was planning on sneaking up on you. Did you know Harvey screams like a girl?” she turned to Elena.

  “Doesn’t surprise me,” Elena chuckled.

  “Alright, test your luck then. We’ll see whether I die of a heart attack or you get blown to smithereens,” he groaned.

  “Whatever. Stay safe, Harvey,” Hannah smiled.

  Instead of joining the caravan, Elena walked through the alley towards her old home. Confused, Harvey and Hannah chased after her.

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  “To get Gabe. I think he’s still tied up under the bed,” she replied.

  They followed her, Hannah deftly sliding off Buttercup’s back as she held a carrot out for him. Slowly, they ascended the creaking steps onto the tiny porch of the ramshackle frontier home. Stepping inside, he was bombarded with a strange scent. One he remembered, but never thought he’d smell again.

  “Is that vanilla?” Harvey gasped.

  “A vanilla candle, yeah,” Elena answered, blowing it out before walking into the bedroom.

  “What the hell? How much merit did this guy have?” Hannah cursed, the candle disappearing into the pouch at her waist.

  “A lot. Skimming off the top of an entire Outpost adds up,” he sighed.

  The last time he’d seen the inside of Gary’s house was when he and Julian came to grab one of the axes Gary had stolen on the second day of the trial. Back then, it had been a relatively intact frontier home, with rough wooden furniture and a few thin blankets. Now, it looked like the inside of a modern apartment.

  Decorative rugs covered the battered floorboards, and a leather couch faced a small wooden coffee table. Takeout bags from various restaurants were piled near a trash can beside a dining table with cushioned chairs.

  “Here, come on. Help me pull you out,” Hannah called, kneeling beside an unmade queen size bed with a thick comforter and black silk sheets.

  Panicked grunts met her reaching arm, a bare foot kicking out from under the bed.

  “Gabe, gabe! Calm down!” Elena pleaded.

  The voice was muffled, but he thought he heard him screaming Connor.

  “Gabe, Gary’s gone. You don’t have to pretend you’re his son anymore,” Harvey yelled.

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  “Hahwe?” the muffled voice replied as the foot stopped flailing.

  “Yes, it’s Harvey. Let us pull you out.”

  The three carefully extricated him from under the bed, and he was stunned to find the young man looking starved. Carefully, Elena removed the gag from his mouth and pulled him to his feet. He tried to stand, but collapsed the second she let him go. Carefully, they set him on the edge of the bed while Hannah retrieved some food and water from the rations they’d prepared for the caravan.

  “Harvey?” he wheezed, his voice dry and crackling. “You can’t be here. Gary…”

  “Is gone. For now… we fought him off. He managed to escape, but not before losing an arm.”

  Panic flooded Gabe’s tired eyes, and he tried diving back under the bed.

  “He’s not dead? Then he’s coming back! I can’t get caught again. I can’t! He’ll kill me! Elena, you have to gag me!”

  “You won’t get caught because we’re leaving!” she urged, pulling him back out. Even at her low level, she easily had the strength to pull the scrawny man to his feet despite his best attempts to fight back.

  How low-level is he? Harvey thought.

  “Everyone knows who he really is now, and they’ll help us if he comes back. Just come with us, Gabe, and you’ll finally be safe,” Elena begged.

  “You promise?” Gary sobbed, tears streaming down his face as his eyes went red.

  “I promise, Gabe. He’s gone. I wouldn’t lie to you about that,” Elena cried, hugging him tight.

  “Oh god,” he shuddered. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. Lord, I don’t know what I did to deserve salvation, but thank you for freeing me from this nightmare.”

  Harvey teared up watching him pray. Part of him had been angry that Gabe had chosen Gary over him, but all that melted away as he saw the torture he’d been forced to endure. The skin around his mouth had been rubbed raw by the gag made from a ripped t-shirt, and his wrists and ankles were cut and bloody from the rope that had been tied around them.

  “Why didn’t you tell us Gary was doing this? And why weren’t you tied up under the bed?” Hannah asked.

  “Because I was afraid it would get us all killed,” Elena replied. “And apparently, the real Connor had a reputation for being a troublemaker, so any little slip-up got Gabe under the bed. Brittany was his perfect little girl, so I could do no wrong as long as I played my part whenever he was around.”

  “What about Melissa? Where is she?” Gabe asked.

  “Dead. I killed her myself,” Elena replied.

  “Good. I hope it hurt,” he sobbed.

  They sat in silence as Gabe ate for the first time in days. Finally fed, they dug out some clothes Gary had bought him before the last time he got punished. It was a brand-new hoodie with the logo of some soccer team in Mexico, a pair of acid-washed jeans, and high-top leather shoes.

  “Guy really knew how to shop,” Hannah said.

  “This was all Amy, back when she was trying to get us to call her mom. That ended real fast once we figured out calling her Melissa wouldn’t get us in trouble,” Elena explained.

  “Do you have nice clothes like this?” Hannah asked.

  “Yeah, a few outfits,” she replied.

  “Why don’t you ever wear them?”

  “And flaunt my special treatment? Not going to happen. I never wanted anything from that monster,” Elena growled.

  “I will. Mind if I raid your closet?”

  “Go ahead.”

  They took everything they could fit in a slipsack before carefully lifting Gabe onto Buttercup’s back. He was in no condition to walk all the way to the Hell Hotel, so he’d have to take Hannah’s spot in the saddle. At least some of the spoils of all their taxed merit reclaimed, the group rejoined the caravan at the gate.

  Everyone said their goodbyes, and before long, he was the last soul in Veils End. He watched until the last body disappeared into the trees, then swung the heavy wooden gate closed behind him.

  It was eerie, standing alone on the main road where he’d been forced to watch friends die just an hour ago. Their bodies still lay lifeless in the dirt, and he carefully dragged them into the yard behind the smithy. It took time he couldn’t afford to waste, but he wasn’t willing to let their bodies rot in a pile. Grabbing an old, rusty shovel from the crate of mining equipment, he got digging. One by one, he buried the victims of Gary’s wrath.

  Amara Silva, the kind woman from Mozambique who worked her weave to its breaking point, healing the wounded of Veils End.

  Christian, the man who’d stood at Gary’s side for weeks, only to be murdered the second he questioned his authority.

  Nigel, the stage magician who’d delighted Veils End with magic both off and on the battlefield. He’d saved countless lives, distracting enemies and extracting allies, and had been killed for refusing to silence Elena when he ordered him to.

  Amy.

  The evil stepmother who’d fed Gary’s delusions and tortured his friends. She’d been so kind… so pretty, back when they first met in his forge. Who could’ve guessed she’d be so ugly in the end?

  Staring down at her body, he saw a piece of glimmering skin dangling from her cheek just opposite the hole left by Elena’s wand. Kneeling, he reached for the crystalline lines reflecting the last rays of dusk.

  So that’s what her stain was. -5 Willpower, just like his. Maybe that was why she went full psycho. He knew she never spent any time leveling. Just hid inside their little house, pretending the world outside wasn’t going to eat her up.

  He knew exactly how it felt to have a legacy stained like that. It tainted every thought, forcing you to see the world through blood-colored glasses, where everything and everyone felt like a threat.

  He’d found Julian, who raised him up until he could carry the burden of his stain on his own.

  She’d found Gary, who used her fear to buy himself a family to replace the one he'd lost.

  That could’ve been me.

  Placing the crystallized tattoo in his slipsack, he got to work burying her body. She might not deserve it, but he’d give her a grave.