by Ryan Muree
“Please help me!” A man, followed by a REV member covered in chalky dust and carrying a young child, came to the table. Scrapes and bruises colored all of their arms and legs. “Please!”
Several of the others in line stretched to see him cutting through, but Kayson immediately stepped forward from the back of their tent and took the boy from him.
“Come on. You’ve got to see this.” Adalai grabbed Emeryss’s arm and pulled her back. “Vaughn, cover fruit.” She pointed to the crates she and Emeryss had been standing at. With a quick nod, he took her station, and they darted behind the dangling sheets to the healing side of the tent.
Kayson had laid the boy on a makeshift table of empty crates and a canvas cloth. An assisting healer from Delour stood nearby, and her silver eyebrows pulled in with concern. The man from the REV stood off to the side as the boy’s father begged at the boy’s feet for him to be okay.
“What happened? Where did you get him?” Kayson asked.
Adalai nudged Emeryss into a location where she could watch. She leaned over and whispered in Emeryss’s ear, “Kayson can tell where the boy’s hurt and what he needs within seconds. Watch his fingertips.”
Kayson spread his hands out, fingertips glowing green and hovering over the boy.
The blubbering father, tears running between the white dust on his face, wiped his nose with the back of his hand.
The REV member coughed into his hand and swallowed. “He… he was in the second-story school room. We have a group still digging out survivors. He’s been there for four days.”
“Is he dead?” the father wailed.
“He’s dying,” Kayson mumbled.
The assistant spun and started preparing the wash rags and water for him.
“It took us too long to uncover him,” the father sobbed. “The other children…”
Kayson pulled up his sleeves, checked his wrist, and turned to his assistant. “Get the father out.”
“No,” the father yelled. “No, I want to be here. If he… If he…”
Kayson leaned into Adalai and Emeryss. “I don’t have time—”
“Just fix him, then,” Adalai blurted. “What’s the big deal?”
“I don’t have the sigils for it,” he forced through his lips as quietly as possible.
“What do you mean?” Emeryss asked.
Kayson pushed his glasses up farther on his nose. “We expected them to be dead or mild cases. We didn’t expect them to still be pulling out survivors. I don’t have a sigil for something like this. We’re already losing him. Bones fractured in several places, internal bleeding, dehydration…” His eyes drifted to Emeryss.
Some other family members came around to stand beside the father, crying out and holding one another.
“Don’t even think it, Kayson,” Adalai bit back. “She can’t. Not here.”
“The boy is dying—”
The family cut through with more sobs and pleas for help while the assisting healer tried to comfort them.
Emeryss’s eyes shot up to the sheet behind them when Grier passed through. His jaw was shortening and widening, and his face was looking younger. His plate bracer was clearly visible. His Glamour was fading fast. This was an absolute mess.
“Grier…” she gasped. “Your face…”
Adalai shook her head. “Too much is going on at once. What are we going to do?”
“Take me and Grier back to the ship,” Emeryss said to Adalai. “He can stay there since his disguise is fading. I’ll scribe whatever healing sigil I can while on the ship, and you can Blink me back to Kayson to help the boy.”
Adalai looked to Kayson. “Is there enough time to do that?”
“No. It might be too late now—”
“And the REV will definitely notice us hauling through the city for the airship,” Grier said.
“So?” Adalai said. “We can come up with an excuse for that later—”
“No,” Grier said firmly. “I’m not putting Emeryss at risk like that.”
“Please, help him!” The mother and father sobbed over their son, pleading with Kayson to will his ether for the boy.
Kayson shoved his glasses up his nose. “Can’t I give her a piece of paper, and she find a sigil here?”
Grier bent forward. “Absolutely not. She’d be seen. Everyone would know.”
So, they needed her to scribe where no one would see? With all the crates around they could manage that somehow. “Stabilize him or whatever,” Adalai said. “Tell them I’m getting a spare grimoire.”
Kayson went back to the boy to do whatever it was that he did while she grabbed Emeryss and yanked her to the back side of the tents. Grier followed.
Empty crates stacked two and three times high provided enough cover for Emeryss to hide and scribe whatever Kayson needed. She shoved Emeryss between two crates and ripped off an inventory form stapled to the outside of it.
“Adalai—”
“He’ll die, Emeryss—”
“No, I want to do this. I want to save him.” Emeryss looked up at Grier. “But I don’t know if I can.”
Adalai shoved him in front of her. He could keep watch for anyone getting too nosy and block their view of Emeryss. “Here, that way no one sees, and you can protect her.”
“Adalai, I’ve always done this in grimoires,” Emeryss said. “I-I don’t know—”
“But they’re m’ralli paper, right? So’s that. Do you need a pen or special ink or something?”
Emeryss shook her head. “No, I use my quill.”
Adalai Blinked through the tent to Vaughn, snatched his pencil from his ear, and Blinked back to Emeryss and Grier. “Does this work?” She held out a thin pencil with a dull end.
Emeryss took it. “I’ll try, but Adalai, I only get to ask for the type of sigil from the ether. The ethereal plane decides which sigil it is. I’m not sure this will even work.”
Grier nodded. “And this is risky. It’s over if someone catches her.”
Kayson shouted for Adalai to hurry. She turned to Emeryss. “Focus on what you want. Ask. See it in your head. Casters do it all the time.”
Grier crossed his arms.
Emeryss swallowed and closed her eyes as they rolled to the back of her head. The pencil barely hovered above the paper.
Grier looked over his shoulder and then back to her. “You know they can’t look for specific sigils.”
Adalai bit her lip. “We’ll just have to see. It’s actually good Caster training, too.”
Emeryss’s hand trembled, and they sucked in their breath in unison. Finally, her hand moved until it was scratching across the inventory sheet in brilliant green ether instead of pencil, recording geometric shapes in perfect symmetry with ridiculous speed.
Emeryss spun the paper to the left, to the right, three times, four times, as her left hand scribbled perfection. Sigil after sigil, overlapping one another in a symphony of shapes.
It was… beautiful.
A member of the REV turned the corner of the last tent. He squinted at Adalai. Shit.
“Get him out of here quick,” Grier growled.
Adalai hopped up, waved him on, and approached him well before he reached Emeryss’s hiding place. Her heart thundered in her ears. Her palms were already sticky.
“What’s going on?” he asked. “You two going to help that boy or not? I thought you were looking for a grimoire.” It wasn’t the same chalk-dusted member from earlier, who’d pulled the boy from the wreckage. This one was bald with a black cloth tied over his scalp, and he had a nasty scar from a cut sliced straight down through both lips.
She tried to force a smile, but Scar Lips wasn’t having it. “We are. We’re looking. We could do more if we weren’t being checked on though.”
He peered around her. Emeryss was hidden between the crates, but Grier was just as towering and wide as the wooden boxes, which made him extremely suspicious. There was no hiding him.
She tried to lean over so that she was in Scar Lips’s line of s
ight. “RCA business, you know. Confidential.”
He snarled and spit on her shoes as his eyes sought Grier again behind her. “That’s not RCA. Is that a Keeper?”
Shit. Hol-shit shitty shitstorm.
She spun, and Grier’s Glamour had all but evaporated. Tall, broad, fully armored, and his shield-arm completely covered with his shining bracer—Grier accepted a piece of paper from Emeryss.
“You’re not looking for a grimoire!” Scar Lips blurted. “You have a Scribe! They have a Scribe!”
Chapter 12
Delour — Revel
Emeryss opened her eyes several times as she tried to adjust to the bright sun in the real world. Grier was blocking most of the light for her, but it still burned and made her eyes water.
He slipped the paper with the glittering ether from her hands. “Are you okay? Is that it?”
She nodded and tried to swallow, but her mouth was dry.
“I’ll get this to Adalai—”
“You have a Scribe! They have a Scribe!”
Both their heads jerked up.
“Grier, you’re Grier again!” She pointed to his face.
He looked down at his chest and arms. “Shit! I have to get you out, now.”
“They know!” Adalai squealed, Blinking to them and pushing them back into the tent with the rest of the Zephyrs.
Kayson met them halfway and ripped the paper out of Grier’s hands. His eyes grew wider and wider as he inspected Emeryss’s work. “That’s it! Hah! That’ll work! I didn’t even think of that!” He spun away for the boy, but Urla, Vaughn, Sonora, Jahree, and Mykel were already surrounding Adalai.
“What is going on?” Urla asked.
The crowd had thickened around their tent, and the line for the food and supplies was indiscernible.
“I need to get Emeryss out of here.” Grier had pressed her close against his side, one arm wrapped behind her.
She should have been more concerned about the crowd and the REV, but she couldn’t help the slight exhilaration of knowing she’d gotten a sigil she’d requested.
She couldn’t explain it, she didn’t understand it, but it was more than seeking healing sigils or matter ether. She’d stepped onto the ethereal plane, begged for an answer, and the voices had given it to her. The ether had been deliberate.
Adalai whispered, “The REV know she’s a Scribe.”
The rest of the crew sucked in small gasps of air.
“I’ll take Emeryss back to the ship.” Adalai reached for her hand.
“No,” Grier said. “She’s my responsibility.”
Adalai huffed. “But I can get her out right this second.”
Urla pointed to Jahree. “Adalai, take Jahree and Emeryss back to the ship first. We may all need to get out, now—”
“Guys…” Sonora’s eyes were glazed over and focused on something invisible in front of her. “The REV have alerted each other about Emeryss.”
Adalai grabbed her hand, but Grier pulled her off. “No, I’m not letting her go with you to the ship without me.”
“I don’t have three arms, idiot.”
Emeryss swallowed. “Grier, she got away from you before, she can at least get me—”
“I’m going to do my job—”
“Enough!” Urla pointed to the others. “Adalai, get Jahree and Mykel back to the ship. Grier can worry about Emeryss.”
“I’ll take her through some backstreets in the city,” Grier said. “I’ll keep her hidden, and then Adalai can come to get her if we don’t reach the airship before then. Deal?”
Adalai nodded.
“Wait, no.” Sonora held out her hand to Grier’s arm. “There’s chatter…” She spun until she faced south. “A Stadholden airship just landed.”
Emeryss’s core shook. “Avrist.”
The mob of angry citizens was moving in, crowding around them, pushing on tables and tent poles. The REV had riled them up, and they demanded answers.
Urla began ordering the others to get their stuff but to leave the crates.
Grier looked down at Emeryss. “We’ll head south to Avrist. At least he and the Keepers can offer some protection until we can talk. Ready?”
No, but there wasn’t a choice. The crowd was pressing in, shouting for her to cast or scribe.
“Wait, Adalai.” She gripped Adalai’s arm. “Take off my Glamour.”
Adalai snapped her fingers near Emeryss’s ear, then hooked her arms through Jahree and Mykel’s. “I’ll be right back.”
“We’ll let Kayson finish saving the boy, and then we’ll get him out,” Sonora said.
Emeryss and Grier turned for the back of the tents. He shielded her as they tried to pass behind tent after tent unnoticed. The mobs were getting louder, throwing things and breaking tents apart.
“We’ve been saved!” a woman screamed. “There’s a Scribe here. We’ve been saved!”
They stopped at the edge of a tent, before the gap between it and the next, and peered around the side.
“Where is she?” one man demanded a random RCA member from another unit.
“Stadhold is actually helping us!” another cried. “Don’t hide her from us—”
Emeryss and Grier shared a glance.
“Come on,” he whispered, leading her to the next tent.
They hurried behind the canvas as a man dressed entirely in black shouted behind them. “That’s a Keeper! That’s the Scribe!”
The crowd’s volume had shifted. The people would swarm in on them if they didn’t get out.
“Run!” Grier shouted.
She took off at full speed, Sonora’s old boots rubbing blisters into her feet.
The echoes of other RCA members behind them, urging the crowd to calm down, was useless. Tent poles clanked, and canvas ripped. The crowds were tearing down the tents looking for her.
She looked over her shoulder at several REV men chasing after them. Grier had his shield-arm up, but two more men crossed a side-street to cut them off.
“Grier!” she shouted, pointing ahead.
“Left! Go left!”
They raced across the dusty cobblestone, around street corners and chunks of buildings still laying in them.
Grier grabbed hold of her hand and pulled her faster.
They slid around another corner, and he pulled her left again.
In the distance at the edge of the street, there was a white airship. Much smaller than the Zephyr, it gleamed in the sunlight. Three figures headed in their direction.
“Avrist!” Grier panted to her. “That’s him. We’ll reach him.”
The closer they got, the clearer the three figures became. It was definitely Avrist and two Keepers, but something was wrong. Their weapons were drawn.
Emeryss swallowed.
“Almost there,” Grier panted.
But Avrist was giving them orders. The Keepers on either side of him unleashed their shields and lifted their weapons.
“Grier…” She slid to a stop, digging her fingers into Grier’s arm to stop him, too.
“It’s okay. It’s just for the mob.”
She checked over her shoulder. There was no mob behind them after all their twists and turns through the streets. Not yet anyway. No, these Keepers’ weapons were for her.
“They’re charging!” She pointed. “They’re charging at me!”
“Take her!” Avrist shouted. “Any means necessary!”
Grier lifted his shield-arm. “Why are they charging—?”
Adalai Blinked beside her and panted. “What’s going on?”
Grier narrowed his glare. “Adalai, take her to the ship where she’s safe—”
“But Grier, come with us.” Emeryss didn’t want to leave him there, either.
“Take her, Adalai!”
Adalai hooked an arm around Emeryss’s and Blinked them down the street away from Grier and Avrist.
Grier readied his stance as soon as Adalai had Blinked Emeryss out.
The Keepers, two y
ounger ones from the looks of it, took off in Emeryss’s direction, preparing ranged weapons from their bracers.
He started for them, but Avrist raised a hand. “Grier, wait. You don’t need to do this.”
Avrist might not have a weapon, but he’d ordered the Keepers to grab Emeryss. They were drawing their weapons at her and going after her. It was inexcusable, blasphemous. Scribes were harmless. There was never a reason to raise an ether-weapon at them.
“And neither do you.” It was an abuse of power to use Keepers like this. This wasn’t their intended purpose.
Sprinting down a street where the stonework had been ripped from the ground and shattered into tiny pieces, he wouldn’t let them reach her. Half of the buildings were missing or leveled enough that he could see the Keepers’ heads bobbing in front of him between debris. He’d be able to cut them off if he could find a way through the dusty, dilapidated streets.
He darted around people clamoring to see him.
The two Keepers were following the pink dust from Adalai’s Blinking, but it wasn’t in a straight line to the airship. It was…
They turned left again, then right.
Adalai had Blinked in the direction of the airship but also in a random pattern through the city, forcing them to take longer if they were to follow her.
He smirked. That’s how he’d catch up to them—running straight toward the airship. Thank you, Adalai.
He ran a finger down the seven sigils carved into his left forearm. An illusionary book of shadowy ether blossomed to life. He thumbed the pages until it opened to his chain dart. Reaching his hand into the book and the ethereal plane within, he gripped the end of the chain dart and pulled it out into reality.
People were shouting and pointing, wanting to ask him questions, even.
But he ignored them. As long as he kept moving toward the airship, he’d converge on the two Keepers blindly following Adalai’s misleading ethereal path.
The two Keepers crossed in front of him, dashing down the street.
He flipped the chain dart around to hold the pointed end and then whipped the chain and handle out toward their feet. Zooming through the air, it found purchase around their armored shins. Running in full Keeper gear wasn’t easy, and it wasn’t another step before they toppled onto the shattered street.
