 
### The Will of the Elements

### Book One:

## Wind-Scarred

A Novel by Sky Luke Corbelli

Copyright © 2011 by Sky Luke Corbelli

Smashwords Edition v.1.4
Wind-Scarred (The Will of the Elements, Book 1)

Copyright © 2011 by Sky Luke Corbelli (www.skylukecorbelli.blogspot.com)

Smashwords Edition v.1.4

Cover design by Michelle Corbelli (www.mcorbelli.wordpress.com)
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be sold or given away without the author's consent. Thank you for respecting the hard work that went into the making of this story.

This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and happenings herein are the products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission from the author.
To my beautiful wife, without whom this never would have left my head.

### Contents

Prologue:

Sunset

Chapter 1:

Secrets and Secretaries

Chapter 2:

Please Step Outside

Chapter 3:

Surprises and Sheep

Chapter 4:

Hidden Hallways

Chapter 5:

Ambushed

Chapter 6:

Trouble with Tasers

Chapter 7:

Irritation, Interrogation, and the Truth

Chapter 8:

Visions of the Past

Chapter 9:

A Brief History of Everything

Chapter 10:

Good Times with the Guild

Chapter 11:

First Dates and Other Elusive Creatures

Chapter 12:

The Gang's All Here

Chapter 13:

The Apples of Arborlen

Chapter 14:

Hand Picked

Chapter 15:

Lets Get Dangerous

Chapter 16:

Celebrate Good Times, Come On

Chapter 17:

Furious Foxes

Chapter 18:

JaM Productions

Chapter 19:

Circles Within Circles

Chapter 20:

At Least It's Not Raining

Chapter 21:

Demons in the Dark

Chapter 22:

Tavern Talk

Chapter 23:

Whatever the Storm Blows In

Chapter 24:

Forbidden and Flowing

Chapter 25:

Dark and Stormy Night

Chapter 26:

The Calm Before

Chapter 27:

Pleading the Case

Chapter 28:

Working Hard and Hardly Working

Chapter 29:

A Daring Escape

Chapter 30:

Always Look On the Bright Side

Chapter 31:

Chalkboards

Chapter 32:

Proof of Concept

Chapter 33:

So Sharp You'll Cut Yourself

Chapter 34:

Conspiratorial Emotions

Chapter 35:

It Burns Us, Precious

Chapter 36:

Hidden Dragons

Chapter 37:

Pretty Pictures

Chapter 38:

Robert Ralson

Chapter 39:

Bombshells

Chapter 40:

Flame On the Horizon

Chapter 41:

Welcome to Helena

Chapter 42:

Tower Defense

Chapter 43:

Ear to the Ground

Chapter 44:

Pursuit

Chapter 45:

In the Beginning

Chapter 46:

Providence

Chapter 47:

Freedom

Chapter 48:

You Are Not Prepared

Chapter 49:

Complications

Chapter 50:

Static On the Wind

Chapter 51:

Reunions

Chapter 52:

There's No Lair Like Home

Chapter 53:

From a Clear Blue Sky

Chapter 54:

Was It Good for You Too

Chapter 55:

Imagine Meeting You Here

Chapter 56:

Heroic Last Stands

Chapter 57:

For a Job Well Done

Chapter 58:

The Big Man Himself

Chapter 59:

Hobbies

Chapter 60:

The Road Goes Ever On

#  Prologue

## Sunset

It's so beautiful. Ezra stared out the viewport window, looking down at the Earth. Clouds swirled through the atmosphere with a stately beauty, the blue and green of the planet spread out beneath them.

He shook his head in wonder, glancing around at the other passengers aboard the Millennial Legacy. His parents sat with a few of the other science Legacy families, chatting. How anyone could ignore the view was beyond him. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity!

He turned back to the window, pressing his face up against the transparent super solid, trying to catch a glimpse of Sanctuary far below them. Flickering flames from the engines danced into view. Ezra frowned, staring. If he looked at it just right, he could almost imagine that the fire actually was dancing. There! That... that looks like a woman, a woman in the fire...

Something glimmered off in the distance. Ezra glanced up, and his jaw dropped. Highlighted against the backdrop of space, just a few klicks away from their shuttle, the space elevator cable was glowing. What might have been lightning was coiled around it, slithering up behind them like some kind of gleaming serpent. As he watched, it caught up to the ship and bunched into a writhing mass of energy.

"Mom? Dad?" Ezra took a step back, eyes fixed on the orb of power. It felt like it was watching them, somehow... waiting...

The ship shuddered. The lights in the cabin flickered. The lightning struck.

Ezra yelled, stumbling back as the beam of energy reached mindlessly for the ship. The window flashed white... and a wall of fire blocked Ezra's view.

He jumped forward, eyes searching. It looked like the flames from the engine had leapt up, catching the bolt of lightning, holding it back. But... that was impossible. It didn't make any sense. Fire... fire couldn't move like that.

"Ezra!"

He turned to see his father holding out a hand for him. He took a running step toward his family, casting one last look back at the battling elements.

And the lightning broke free.

With a bone-shaking thump, the fuel compartment went up, ripping the hull apart. Metal shrieked in agonized protest. Ezra was tossed to the floor like a toy. Everything spun as he squeezed his eyes shut.

"Mom!" he yelled, but hardly made a sound. He tried to suck in a deeper breath, to call out again... but there was no air.

Because you're in space, he realized. Probably only being kept alive by the dispersing atmosphere of the cabin. His eyes flew open. He saw the Earth below him, through the wreckage of the shuttle. His body rotated, spinning freely, and the orbital station came into view, sitting serenely atop the space elevator, only a few klicks away. The docking port was just beginning to extend toward what was left of the ship. He continued to spin past. His lungs burned, his vision tunneling as his oxygen-deprived body began to shut down. Ezra took one last look down at the Earth, beautiful and pristine and perfect.

And something moved.

From the guttering fires of the devastated ship, an angel spread her wings. Her skin was like velvety smoke, her hair the deep red of a burning coal. She smiled, reaching out toward Ezra.

I wonder if everyone sees something like this when they die, he wondered as slender arms wrapped around his neck and back, pulling him to her warm embrace, sheltering him beneath wings of light and heat. Her mouth moved, but no sound came out. He returned her smile, letting his eyes close, surrendering to the inevitable.

Suddenly her mouth was pressed to his, breathing life into him. His lungs expanded with air and his eyes fluttered open. He caught one last glimpse of the angel falling away, tied to the still-burning corpse of the ship, a look of divine peace on her face, her arms spread as if releasing him...

==

Ezra Hawkins woke with a start. Outside, the sun was just beginning to dip below the Barrier Mountains that surrounded Sanctuary. "That's what you get for falling asleep while watching the sunset," he mumbled savagely to himself.

He leaned back in his chair, yawning as he stretched his lean frame. He ran a hand absently through his curly, dark brown hair. His eyes wandered over the virtual console in front of him, lighting as he went over the results of his most recent simulation. Every test passed, all well within his margin of error.

A fierce smile spread across Ezra's face. He uploaded his flight trajectory into the test glider, locking in the last piece of his brilliant plan. Everything was set, and no bad dream or remembered terror was going to spoil it for him.

Tonight, he was going to see the world.

#  Chapter 1

## Secrets and Secretaries

"Department of Ordinances and Lawful Temerity," a bored voice chirped as the dispatcher materialized in front of Ezra. "Border Dispatching Coordinator, how may I help you?" Ezra cleared his throat and read from the carefully prepared speech he had hidden amongst his research notes.

"Hello, this is Ezra Hawkins of the Hawkins Legacy family. I will be preforming a standard glider retrieval test – as I have numerous times over the past eight months – tonight at approximately a quarter after five. I am calling to notify you of this occurrence." He paused, waiting for the answer. Because who would be performing a mundane experiment on Founder's Day?

"Well, Ezra Hawkins of the Hawkins Legacy family," the woman responded, voice wry, "let me just alert the patrols that they should be seeing something come up so we won't cause a panic."

Ezra frowned. He had a feeling she was mocking him. He opened his mouth to say something about it, but before he could get a word in she blurted out, "Wait, tonight? Working on Founder's Day? Don't tell me that you're going to miss out on all the fun for an experiment!"

Ezra nodded, clearing his throat. Now things were back on track. He checked over his response, put on a confused tone, and answered, "Is today Founder's Day? Oh, I must have lost track of things. You know how it can be what with the research and development and testing. It must have just slipped my mind. If this is going to be a problem," he sighed, "I suppose that I could recalibrate the generators and set it up another day..."

He trailed off in a disappointed, reluctant, and slightly resigned tone of voice, shoulders slumping to create the perfect picture of a dejected scientist. He had, after all, practiced it extensively.

"No, no, it's no problem. Just a shame that you can't get out once in a while. I hear the Guild of Sundry is really planning to out do themselves this year. I can't wait to see what they've come up with!"

Ezra rolled his eyes. The Guild of Sundry – a bunch of misfits who couldn't handle real science and instead played huge practical jokes. Everyone was always so excited when rumors of a new 'event' came up. But the main attraction tonight would be something entirely new. Something world changing. Nobody, not the Guild, DOLT, not even the Chancellor himself could trump what Ezra had in store for Sanctuary.

"Well Mr. Hawkins, the patrols have been notified. Thank you for telling us this time."

Okay, Ezra, just relax, he told himself. Only one more thing to worry about... "Oh, I almost forgot." The words tumbled out of his mouth. "There will be a, um, biological signature aboard the glider. Just standard testing procedure to check that nothing is out of phase coming back through the wormhole, it's really nothing to worry about and–"

"That's fine, thanks for the heads up."

Ezra blinked. That was not in the script. Shaken, he continued from where he had left off.

"And I've already cleared it with the Department of Fair and Humane–"

"Yes, bio sign on the glider, got it."

"And the Chancellor himself is very insistent that we get this project pushed through to completion as soon as– "

"Will that be all Mr. Hawkins? Yes? Thank you for contacting us and have a happy Founder's Day."

The connection went dead. Ezra stared at the space his neural net call had occupied, relief struggling with annoyance within him. He had half a mind to call back and demand that they treat his flagrant disregard for proper protocol with the severity that it deserved. His carefully crafted arguments could have convinced the most hard-line, play-by-the-book DOLT officer in all of Sanctuary!

He took a deep breath. No, he thought, everything is still going according to plan. She's just a dispatcher, after all. It may be an empty victory, but it's still a victory. Nodding, he carefully placed his equipment on the wormhole staging area, double checked that everything he would need was accounted for, then packed up his glider and set out to face the biggest challenge of the night.

==

Ezra eased his way out of the laboratory, glider in tow, careful not to make a sound as he snuck down the hall. He cut through the guest rooms and took the back staircase down to the kitchen. He held his breath, peeking inside. Empty! He had long suspected that the cook was against him, always offering him something to eat in that booming voice, alerting everyone to his covert operations. Ezra ghosted across the kitchen, not disturbing anything.

It appeared as though everything was well in hand as he stepped out of the kitchen and into the greeting hall. He rounded the great staircase and froze. There she was.

At twenty three, Kirsten O'Donnell was only two years Ezra's senior. She still made him feel like a kid. Her vibrant red hair was caught up in a bun, leaving her slender neck bare. A few loose strands were artfully arranged to frame large, striking green eyes, a delicate nose and a sharp chin. She was elegant. She was poised. She was Ezra's worst nightmare.

She was his secretary.

Ezra gulped, knowing that any sudden movements would alert her to his presence. Kirsten studied the console in front of her, briskly making adjustments to whatever horror she was concocting. A day's schedule or, Ezra shuddered, another date with a Legacy bachelorette? Slowly, carefully, he eased forward into the greeting hall. He was almost there! Just a little bit further and he would be out. His hand reached out to activate the door...

"Ezra, are you going out tonight?"

Kirsten appeared not to have moved her eyes from the nebulous displays hovering before her, fingers still flicking through menus.

Just keep it simple, there's no reason for her to be suspicious. Ezra cleared his throat and responded. "Yes, Miss O'Donnell. I'll be running some tests tonight, sending out a glider. You know, standard protocol before a system update."

"And where will you launching the glider from?"

"Oh, nowhere in particular. It's a nice night; I'll probably just head to the barrier and send it out from there."

Kirsten stopped what she was doing and turned to face Ezra, eyes narrowing. He fought not to audibly gulp. What had given him away? Mentioning the barrier? Of course! He'd tipped his hand about his interest int the barrier, and a simple examination of the glider would prove that he had no biomass of any kind with him. She would know he was lying about the bio sign! How had she heard about that so quickly? Was the DOLT dispatcher in on it? Was that why she'd cut the call so suddenly? He would have to think fast if he wanted to get out of this in one–

"Ezra James Hawkins! I know what kind of people hang out around the barrier. If you're planning to have some sort of wild Founder's Day experience on my watch I will have the cook carry you to your room and sit on you until morning."

Ezra stared at her in disbelief. "What?"

"Don't think that I am unaware of the kinds of things a young man can get himself mixed up in out there, what with Guild of Sundry running wild and doing who-knows-what with who-knows-who. And you know that you have an appointment with the inheriting daughter of the Crawford family early tomorrow morning to which you will not be late. If you even think of meeting her in a state of the slightest dishevelment I will personally see to it that you curse the day Sanctuary was founded for the rest of your natural life."

Ezra's brain tried to process what was happening. She didn't know about the call? Then... she didn't know about his plan? And Crawford family... Crawford family... where did he know that name from... ah!

"Liza Crawford? But... they're bookies! All they do is write history and look for news so they can write it into history later! The whole family has hardly a scientific bone between them!"

Kirsten stalked forward, one deliberate step at a time. "They are an old and respectable family with data banks that go back to nearly the Founding itself. You could learn a thing or two from a proper historical perspective."

Ezra scowled. "Speaking of historical perspectives, isn't she something like ten years older than me?"

Kirsten's eyes narrowed to emerald slits as she planted her hands on her hips. "Five years, seven months, and you said that Mitzi Parnasus was too immature."

Ezra couldn't keep the exasperation out of his voice. "She spent five hours talking about how pretty butterflies were!"

Kirsten held up a mollifying hand. "I am willing to admit that Miss Parnasus was not the most suitable match for you, but the Special Division assigned me to keep your household and affairs in efficiently running order. As the last of your bloodline it is your civic duty to wed and procreate so as to ensure that your family's knowledge is passed on and your Legacy continues."

"So I don't get any say in the matter? Because I say that Liza Crawford and any of my other former babysitters should be off the list."

"Of course, the final decision is up to you. However, I do expect you to seriously consider the social and technological aspects of each and every match that I have deemed suitable to your current situation."

"I don't have time for this. Yes, I will consider aspects. No, I will not be unreasonable. I'll launch the glider from the university. Is there anything else?"

Kirsten continued to glare up to Ezra for a moment. "You will finish your experiment and come home immediately. You will be back by no later than seven o'clock. At one minute past seven I will call the Department of Ordinances and advise them to collect you." Ezra gulped at the fury in her voice, immediately regretting his rash words. "Will that be all, Mr. Hawkins?"

Ezra nodded mutely, leaning back and away from the enraged woman. She whirled and stormed back to her console, heels clicking in outrage. He opened the door and fled.

#  Chapter 2

## Please Step Outside

Ezra didn't stop running until he had cleared the family property and entered Sanctuary city proper. He paused to catch his breath, panting with relief. Looking up, he caught the sun's last rays striking the barrier – a protective bubble that kept their air clean and blocked harmful radiation – bathing the landscape in various hues of pink and shades of violet. "Unnatural colors," Ezra mused, looking out over the rest of the Legacy hilltop. Graceful arches and ornate columns, styled after the estates of the ancient Romans, played games with the light and shadow. "But pretty in their own way."

He checked his time display. Two minutes until five. Slightly behind schedule, but still well within the safety zone. Hoisting his glider, he set off at a jog for the nearest transport station. Dialing in his destination for the university district, Ezra paid the transport fee and hopped onto the wormhole generation platform. The scenery abruptly changed as the generator engaged, the elegant station's interior replaced with the open-air port at the university plaza.

Ezra jumped on a museum shuttle just as it was leaving on its route. As they passed the Webatorium, bright banners featuring the triumphant return of the Lolcats exhibit, he went over the plan in his mind.

It was simple, really. Eight months of sending out unannounced gliders and timing DOLT response units had provided plenty of data. Finding the area with the longest time between barrier breach and actual contact from the officers on duty given him with the ideal flight path. A little digging through old surveys of the Barrier Mountain range had led him to a set of coordinates for a small ledge on the far side of the mountains. The side that faced the world.

Suppressing his parents' research on remote creation and deployment of portals was no problem. Wormhole research and technology was his Legacy, after all, at his sole discretion to develop and release.

From there, it was an easy task to make it seem as though he was beginning his testing phase, when in fact he already had a reliable working mechanism for throwing wormholes to the nearest receiving port, and even to locations where no port existed at all. The only obstacle was where to make the portal. Naturally, all wormhole travel originating within Sanctuary or on the space station above was strictly monitored by DOLT. Through extensive testing, however Ezra had determined that they couldn't detect incoming wormholes at all, so long as they were instantiated outside the barrier.

He smiled, thinking of the wormhole controller device waiting for him on the generator platform back in his lab. In just a few minutes, he would simply fly out of Sanctuary, pick up the device, and originate a new portal through the existing one, thereby sidestepping DOLT security measures entirely. He'd bring back proof that the world outside was safe, that they no longer had to cower behind the barrier with their enforced population limits and infinitely reprocessed food.

Of course, he wasn't an idiot. Along with the controller was a radiation badge, so in the unlikely event that his thesis was wrong he could simply step back through the wormhole and return to the comfort and safety of his lab for decontamination. And, just to be extra safe, he had ordered a mandatory maintenance inspection for all ports closer to his test zone than his lab's port, just so the generator couldn't find some other receiving port by mistake. All of the tricky parts were already taken care of, the rest was just science.

Ezra kept riding until they reached the Sanctuary Center. The stately building at the summit of Sanctuary was an embodiment of the city itself. Solid walls and domes showed safety and security, protection from the outside world. Sweeping arches and floating fountains, promising the ingenuity of the future married to the beauty of the past. And rising from the pinnacle, as far as the eye could see, the space elevator loomed like some monstrous, surgically straight cut in the fabric of reality.

Despite the relatively warm night, Ezra shivered at the sight of it. "This is no time to dwell on the past, Ezra," he reminded himself sharply, "pull yourself together."

He walked inside, past the relatively small group of business people waiting for the next scheduled wormhole up to the space station. Founder's Day seemed to have cleared out all but the most dedicated of travelers, just as he had hoped. A security officer held up a hand for him to stop, but Ezra flashed his credentials. "Legacy business."

The guard took one look at his clearance and jumped to attention, saluting rigidly. "Of course, Mr. Hawkins. Take all the time you need, sir."

Ezra fought down a smirk as he walked past the security checkpoint. Dolt, he thought, marveling at the aptness of the department's acronym.

Past the wormhole generators, past the computing stations that kept logs of matter composition and global positions primed for travel off-world, up the maintenance staircase and ladder to the roof, Ezra reached his goal: the space elevator platform, suspended on its cables just above the Center. Elevator travel had fallen out of practicality with the advent of wormhole technology, and this relic of the past had not had a passenger in over ten years. Now it would serve his purposes, as the highest point from which he could launch himself.

Ezra took a moment to look out over the city. Lights began flickering to life in the grunt residential districts, filled with practical little houses that boasted none of classical flair so omnipresent up on Legacy Hill. Bits of a song floated in, signs of the night's revelry getting started. But for the most part, Sanctuary was quiet, anticipating what would come with baited breath. "An angel, arms outstretched," Ezra breathed, "waiting for me."

He glanced down at his clock again. Thirteen after five. Time to go. He unfolded the modified glider with practiced movements and strapped himself in. Inching up to the edge of the platform, Ezra closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and jumped. The on-board computer took over immediately, repulsors under the wings correcting his flight and moderating his speed as he soared toward the barrier. Ezra let out a whoop of pure exhilaration, skimming over the city, drawing startled gasps and wondering looks from everyone on his path. Oh yes, this will be a Founder's Day they'll all remember, he thought to himself with amusement.

There was a brief tingle as he passed through the barrier at seventeen minutes after five, and then he was free.

The flight to his rendezvous point took another fifteen minutes, and even the joy of riding on the wind was hampered by the bleak landscape below him. Endless miles of short, stubby grass rolled down to the base of the mountain range that encircled the city in a second, naturally formed ring of protection from the desolation that lay beyond. Supposed desolation, Ezra reminded himself.

Sanctuary had been home to the last remnants of mankind for over a thousand years, after their forefathers had all but destroyed the world. The Great War, they called it, a conflict that left nothing but uninhabitable wasteland and poisoned oceans, lakes and rivers. Mankind had flexed its muscles, and life had been driven nearly to extinction.

At least, that's what the history books said. Ezra had seen the planet though, from the viewport of the ill-fated Millennial Legacy launch during the celebration of the thousandth Founder's Day, seven years ago. It had looked beautiful and serene and perfect and vibrant. It had looked alive.

After he was given a clean bill of health and released to his research, Ezra had run tests on grass gathered outside the barrier. The textbooks all said that Sanctuary was founded on one of the few places that had been relatively untouched by the war and its horrible aftermath, but he had found nothing out of the ordinary about the plants outside. There was no residual radiation, no subatomic deformities at all. They were just plants. Boring, ugly plants, to be sure, but healthy and natural.

Thinking back to his time spent recovering aboard the space station, there had been no windows that faced Earth. When he had asked about it, the nurses had told him that the planet was so hideous that the station had been purposely designed that way, to remind mankind that their future lay out in the stars, not tied to a dying world.

But Ezra knew that something had changed. He had hinted at it to colleagues, but no-one ever seemed to take him seriously enough to just look at the facts: somehow, the world had renewed itself. Well, he thought resolutely, if they're too blind, then I'll just have to open their eyes. I'll open everyone's eyes, and usher in a golden age of expansion and rediscovery. He nodded to himself. He would show them something, something to make this a Founder's Day that shook Sanctuary to its roots. Something that would have made his parents proud.

Ezra shook his head. Science, he had to focus on science.

As the glider descended, he saw the wormhole snap into existence. One moment there was the monotonous brown of the grassy slope. The next there was a one meter wide window into his lab.

The thing to understand about wormholes was connectivity. Sub-atomic particles could move from one place to another instantaneously. It was a simple matter to follow the paths they left, one jump to the next, and connect two points in space. The matter from one point was practically already in the other point, with quantum tunneling. And, since the position of any particle was a naturally uncertain element, switching the locations was as simple as dumping Heisenberg waves through the connection. The slope ahead of Ezra was still connected to the patch of bland grass that had been switched with the generator platform, but that patch of grass was now connected to his lab back in Sanctuary.

The real trick was accounting for the wormhole's behavior around the space where it was created: namely, that it liked to stay there. The Earth, however, had a tendency to move rather quickly around the sun and its own axis.

His lab's generators could pull along both ends of the wormhole while maintaining the portal itself – locking them in their positions relative to the surface of the Earth – for a total of four hours before the batteries would fail and the connection would drop. Cut that time in half for the second wormhole he would generate to jump outside the mountains, and Ezra had just under two hours to complete his expedition if he wanted to avoid a very long walk home. And some explaining when he got to the barrier. He shivered, shaking away the thought. Probably safe to just keep it short and sweet then.

He quickly folded the glider and tossed it back into the lab, collecting his gear and checking the radiation badge. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he entered in the coordinates for his destination.

Ezra took a deep breath as the wormhole connected, and stepped through. He found himself standing on a flat shelf of stone, blinking in the sunlight, as he took his first look at the world.

#  Chapter 3

## Surprises and Sheep

The sun was still setting on this side of the mountains, painting the landscape in shades of orange and pink. It was a breathtaking view. Far below his little shelf of stone, rolling fields and sprawling forests stretched out to the horizon. He had a brief, fluttering feeling of being too exposed. With no mountains looming up to devour half the sky, the world just kept going on and on until it curved out of sight. Nothing he could have done could have prepared him for this sight.

Fortunately, he had been prepared for his lack of preparation. The timer on the wormhole controller beeped at him, snapping him out of his reverie. Mentally berating himself for standing around and staring like an idiot, Ezra readied his antique analogue hologram camera and began narrating.

"What you are seeing here is actual footage from outside the mountains. As you can see, the world is not a wasteland anymore. Things are living and growing and thriving out here. In fact," he pulled off his radiation badge and dangled it in front of the camera's lens, "there is no measurable residual radiation, and the air is fresh and clean."

Ezra began to focus the camera on various features of the landscape below, naming them off as he went.

"You can see that there are fields of this long, golden grass spread out all around us. There is also a natural forest off to the north..." He reoriented to bring it into frame. "Those trees must be massive to be visible with the naked eye from up here. And look! A stream is flowing out of the forest and oh-my-god-did-you-see-that! A fish! A fish just jumped out of the water! There is animal life out in the world! The Earth is capable of supporting life again!"

Hardly able to contain his excitement, Ezra rambled on as he skimmed the forest line in search of more wonders. He went on for quite a while, the light slowly fading around him.

"More trees, more grass... did something move there?! No, no that was just the wind... let's see here, grass, grass, trees, and–"

Startled, Ezra jerked his head up and squinted off into the distance... and was struck with embarrassment for doing something so pointless. He returned to the camera and his narration.

"There are mammals down there, a whole big group of them! It's a little dark, but you can see that they're white and they look fluffy..." Ezra raked his memory for the right word, the name for the animals out there. Liza Crawford had spouted some nonsense when trying to get him to go to sleep back when she babysat for him, it had something to do with counting... "Sheep! Those are sheep! It's a group, uh, gaggle, no, no, flock! A flock of sheep! This is the most amazing thing any human being has seen in over a thousand years! Oh! And a dog! It looks like it's running toward the sheep and... and... around them... almost like it's trying to... make them change directions or..." Ezra trailed off, confused.

A dog? Running sheep around like that? Herding! That was the word! There were some old vids floating around on the net where dogs did things like that, but there was always a person with them, directing them where to go. Ezra scanned the camera toward around the edges of the miraculous flock until he saw, "A shepherd, out there with the sheep." His words came out as a whisper. "A girl. A human girl," he continued in a stunned voice, "outside of Sanctuary, with a flock of sheep and a dog and she has a staff and she's herding the sheep toward... toward a road."

Ezra gulped down the lump that was forming in his throat. "And... and there are wagons on the road. And more people. They're all moving in the same direction." He zoomed the camera in. "I can see... I can see a wall, and what look like rooftops behind it. A town. A town that is not Sanctuary, full of people who are not in Sanctuary. But no-one is allowed to leave Sanctuary, and there's no way down from here and no way across the mountains. They don't seem to have much in the way of technology, and all of that together would mean... it would mean..." Ezra paused, reaching his conclusion but afraid to utter it aloud. Steeling himself, he whispered, "It would mean that they aren't from Sanctuary. That they've been living out here the whole time, for the last thousand years. How could we not know about this? Who could..." He trailed off, feeling sick.

Who could have hidden this? Who would want to? He looked down at the camera in horror. This was no new discovery. This was someone's secret. When a person stumbled across information in the genetically locked data banks of one of the Legacy families, even as an honest accident, they disappeared. Certainly, some of them resurfaced years later, either as adopted members of the family or as raving lunatics with black marks on their names... but no-one ever went back to their old life.

Who wanted to keep this a secret, and what would they do to make it sure it stayed hidden? He had the sudden urge to destroy the camera, leave the crushed remains here, step back to his lab and hole up there for the next few years. It had happened before. A brilliant scientist on the perpetual verge of a what he thought would be a world-shattering breakthrough would sometimes lock himself away from everything and everyone. Then, years later, he would surprise colleagues by not being dead and sometimes being sane. He could just say that he was absorbed in his work.

My work! Ezra was suddenly flooded with relief. His work was important. His family was important. Not even the Chancellor himself could get away with vanishing him. Then again, he considered, glancing out toward the town in the distance, something this big...

Back and forth Ezra paced, feeling better as he rationalized his importance to society or his chances of keeping this secret, then despairing as he theorized what would happen when the wrong person found out. The camera captured minutes of fascinating footage of the ground, his feet, the mountain beside him, until a loud beeping snapped him back to reality. The wormhole device announced that he had thirty minutes before both portals would shut down. He stared down at the controller. That would certainly end his dilemma. What stories would crop up to explain his mysterious disappearance?

He looked back in the direction of the town. If he could find a way down... maybe even project a wormhole to the surface, he could make a place for himself in the outside world. Maybe he could be happy out there.

Ezra sighed. No. That's the coward's way out.

He nodded to himself. Not saying anything at all, that was a coward's way too. He had a plan, a mission. He looked back at the camera. This may be someone's secret, but everyone deserved to know. Ezra knew what he had to do. He would go back. He would find an up-link terminal well away from home. He would anonymously upload the video to the net. Then he would do everything in his power to be a good citizen, bury himself in work, court who-so-ever Miss O'Donnell felt appropriate, and wait to see what would happen. That was what he had to do. That was the right thing to do.

Set in his resolve, Ezra stepped back through the portal and began the short walk his lab. He stopped just before walking in and took one last look around the shadowy landscape inside the mountains. It wasn't right that they lived boxed in like this. It wasn't fair that they thought themselves alone on a barren planet. His eyes lingered on the gentle purple glow of the barrier around Sanctuary. Splashes of bright color were visible even from here, lighting the sky as the Founder's Day celebration kicked into full swing.

How much more would they rejoice to know that there was a whole world of beauty and wonder waiting just outside? How much could they help the people living out there with modern innovations? He had wanted to make this a Founder's Day that the whole world would remember, and that was what he was going to do, consequences be damned. With a determined little smile on his face he stepped toward the wormhole home.

And watched it blink out of existence.

#  Chapter 4

## Hidden Hallways

Ezra stared dumbfounded at where the wormhole had been. He frantically checked his clock. Twenty five minutes remained on his timer. There must have been some kind of power fluctuation, he realized, his mind whirring, or... or maybe sustaining a wormhole through a wormhole reduces efficiency? I should have tested it more thoroughly at the boundary value parameters!

"Breathe Ezra," he said to himself. "You're okay. You planned for this, that's why all the closer ports are shut down for the night."

Without the support of a real wormhole generator, his controller could only create and maintain a portal for about half a second. Enough time to drop a wormhole on himself and connect it to the nearest active port or generator then jump through immediately. His contingency plan had included scenarios like this, and Ezra had practiced the technique back in his lab several times. It had just never occurred to him that he might actually have to use it.

"Okay Ezra, you've got this, nothing to it. On the count of three, you're going to activate the wormhole and jump forward. Then you're back in the lab, and all you have to do is sneak out and come in the front door so Kirsten doesn't call in the DOLTs." He bounced on his toes a few times, shaking out his arms. "Here we go. One. Two. Three!"

He activated the controller, forcing open a wormhole and jumping forward with the strength and abandon that only comes from real terror. Ezra landed on his face in the middle of a darkened room. He looked up and his heart sank. This was not his laboratory. This was not any of the ports that he had ordered down for inspection. He checked his controller only to find the signal blocked. He had no way of figuring out where he had ended up. Panicking, his eyes darted around the room, locking on to a low object spanning the nearest wall, illuminated by a small row of lights glowing gently up from the floor.

A rack of weapons.

Guns, grenades, knives, crossbows, swords, spears... weapons from every era. Ezra backed away in horror. These were not weapons on display. These were weapons to be used, kept ready and waiting next to an unlicensed wormhole generator that was somewhere between the barrier and his home. Wait! He was getting no signal here. It could be underground, it could even be outside of Sanctuary entirely, in the perfect location to watch the outside world undetected by DOLT. In the perfect place to catch anyone coming out of Sanctuary, too. Realization struck him with a horrible, crushing force. In the perfect place to make certain that the world outside remained a secret.

He stumbled to a wall, numb with terror. It wasn't fair! Everything had been working so well. He was going to do the right thing, the noble thing, for no other reason than that it was the right thing to do! He felt his way along the wall until he came to a door panel. It slid away when he pressed it, opening into a dimly lit hallway. As he stepped out the lights along the floor around him came on, providing a soft, steady glow. Ezra whirled, catching a glimpse of the plaque on the door: a triangular shape with three stylized letters – G o S – above the number 242.

Ezra squinted. The letters looked familiar. Had he seen them somewhere before? He would have to figure it out later. There was no-one in sight, and he had to get out of here. Turning right, Ezra began running for all he was worth down the hall, lights heralding his progress. He passed more door panels, the numbers on the plaques next to each descending as he went. Just after he reached 201 a stairwell was illuminated on his left. The plaque on the door in front of him stated "GYM", and on the stairwell an arrow pointing down declared "301-350, HANGAR". Another arrow pointed up toward "101-150, ADMIN/SANC". He rushed up the stairs, taking them two at a time as the lights came on above him. At the top he saw a door marked "Administration" to his left. Directly in front of him another the door read "Sanctuary Connection". He scanned the hallway once and sprinted for the door. It slid aside to reveal a well maintained wormhole generator in the middle of stark room.

His net connection lit up, interfacing with the console before the generator. Okay, he thought, accessing the connection protocols. Now I just need to... hold on, the last used coordinates are still cached in the system. Ezra scratched his head, recognizing them as somewhere in the university district. But not anywhere that should have had a receiving connection.

It looks like the system doesn't have a standard override... I could connect to this mystery location right now, or try to work around it and make my way back to the lab. He bit his lip. Would the other end be guarded? Was this mysterious group doing something to Sanctuary while everyone was distracted with Founder's Day? He heard the door in the hall slide open, and a man's voice said, "See, I told you I heard someone out here. The lights are on and everything."

"That answers that," he whispered, punching in the connection just as a man in uniform rounded the door.

"Hey, what are you doing in here? Everyone's supposed to be out on the mission. If you need your gear I can help you get it together so you can-"

Ezra didn't let the man finish. He leaped through the wormhole and ran face first into something hard and solid just on the other side. Walls blocked him in to the left and right as well. Thinking quickly, he pulled out his controller and checked for available generators. Yes! The one he had used to get here was of standard make. Pulling power from it, he placed another wormhole directly between himself and the portal he had come through, throwing the exit to the nearest accessible port. That should buy him some time.

Something was poking him in the back. He reached around and found a small handle. He frantically tried to twist it, pull it, push it, anything! It moved when he slid it to the left. He threw the door open and stumbled out. Looking around, Ezra spotted a display case containing a blue suit with a red cape and a giant letter S on the front in red and yellow. Other cases held brightly colored magazines of some sort... comic books! He was in the Conservatorium of Culture, the largest museum in the University Plaza! Breathing hard, he turned to the box that had imprisoned him and saw an antique phone booth framing the port station at the university lawn.

Gulping down lungfuls of air, Ezra sprinted for the exit, throwing open doors and knocking down displays to hamper anyone coming after him. Building security alarms started blaring in his wake. He burst from the main set of doors and into the empty lawn in front of the museum, eyes searching for signs of pursuit. There were none. Laughing in unadulterated relief at his successful escape, Ezra glanced at his time display. His heart sank. The laughter died on his lips.

It was six minutes after seven. Kirsten O'Donnell was going to kill him.

#  Chapter 5

## Ambushed

Ezra quickly tallied his options. Kirsten was not one to bluff, which meant that DOLT officers would be looking for him shortly. Worse, she would probably direct them to the university district, where she thought he would be for his experiment. The incessant alarms coming from the building behind him meant that they would probably check here first. What was he going to do? Another wormhole?

No, he thought, I'm back inside Sanctuary, wormholes can be tracked. He winced, looking back at the museum. Like that one that I put down there. But if this is some secret organization, it'll be in their best interest to cover that up as well.

Bolstered by the thought, he took off toward the entertainment district. There should be crowds out in the streets all around Sanctuary, he reasoned, but it'll be focused there. He could blend in and make his way back toward the Legacy district. Sneaking into his lab was his only real option. Had he remembered to lock the doors before he left? Maybe he could claim that he had been there the whole time, too caught up in what he was doing to notice the time. That might work.

A sudden light at the university port station drew his attention. Someone must have come through a wormhole there. DOLT, or his mysterious friends with their secret base? He wasn't sure which would be worse at this point. With a groan of exhaustion he picked up his pace, heading directly away from port station and toward the loudest crowd he could hear.

Staying to the shadows and skulking between buildings, Ezra watched as DOLT emergency response vehicles sped toward the museum. Overhead, the bright colors of Founder's Day waterworks launched into a particularly dazzling display of neon orange and green dashed through with hot pink, drawing a round of "oohs" and "ahs" from the crowd below. The vibrant explosions drizzled their colors down on the appreciative spectators and the city around them, painting everything with sprinkles and splashes of lightly glowing liquid.

Nearby, a group of kids ran through the crowd with glowing guns, shooting more of the luminous liquid back and forth at each other, coloring anyone and anything in their line of fire with more stripes of brilliance. A harried looking woman came running along behind, undoubtedly trying to shoo them back to wherever they had come from. Ezra grinned. It hadn't been so long ago that he'd been having fun like that, with his mother trying to chase him back home.

He shook his head again. What was wrong with him tonight? Maybe he wasn't cut out for these high stress environments. He would have to experiment with that hypothesis later.

The liquid from the waterworks above and the squirt-guns below, as well as from the countless other ingenious sources that would inevitably surface tonight was harmless. The Sreedharan family had devised the formula for an inert, luminescent liquid that evaporated a few hours after being exposed to air well over a hundred years ago. Founder's Day was without a doubt their favorite holiday, from a strictly financial point of view.

Ezra made sure to get some of the color on himself as well. Being completely clean tonight would be a surefire way to stand out in the crowd. He had worked his way out of the university district and was well into the entertainment district – the kind of place that catered to students out on their own for the first time – when he decided to take a shortcut through a back alley behind one of the local clubs.

He stopped for a moment to catch his breath when a backdoor to the club slid open. A dark, sinuous shape leaped out, tackling him to the ground.

Oh god they caught me.

Ezra and his attacker went down in a mess of flailing limbs. He hit the ground and got his arms under him, pushing away hard and putting some distance between himself and his assailant. Feet scrambling to find purchase, he briefly wondered if he should try to duck into a building to lose his tail when he noticed that the girl on the ground was still lying flat on her back, laughing.

"Sorry," she said between panting, mirthful breaths. "Didn't see you there. You out here for some fresh air too?"

A closer inspection revealed a small girl, no more than five feet tall, maybe a hundred pounds soaking wet, with a spiky, pixy haircut highlighted in bright blue. The little dress she was wearing displayed an intriguing amount of leg. She too was covered in spots and sprays of color that stood out in the relative dark of the alleyway, albeit much more liberally than Ezra. She was glistening from what must have been a vigorous bout on the dance floor inside, if the pounding beat coming through the closing door was any indication. Her eyes were closed as she smiled up at the night sky and raised her arms straight toward the heavens.

"Help me up?"

Ezra suddenly felt rather foolish, crouched as he was, ready to flee at a moment's notice. Before she could open her eyes and add to his embarrassment, he straightened himself and mumbled, "Oh, yeah, sorry, my fault entirely." He grasped her upraised hands and pulled. She fell into him pleasantly.

"Whoa, haven't quite found my feet yet." Her voice still bubbled with laughter as she smiled up at him.

"Uh, n-no problem, um, miss."

Deep blue, almost purple eyes looked up at him from an elfin face. A huge swipe of dark pink ran adorably across her cheek, emphasizing dimples to die for. Ezra's heart suddenly started beating very fast as his face heated. She didn't seem to notice, but her smile broadened as she spotted his radiation badge and camera.

She pushed herself up to a wobbly stand. He caught a whiff of some sort of a sweet alcohol on her breath as she said, "You doing publicity for the club or something? I've always wanted to be on one of those ads."

He tore the badge off his shirt before she could take a closer look at it. Stupid hormones. He didn't have time to get distracted by a pretty face right now. Or a pretty body. It didn't even matter how nice she smelled or felt when she had been pressed up against... Gah, stupid hormones!

"Oh, yeah, publicity. They, uh, wanted to show what a great Founder's Day party they could throw and hired me on to take video. I just need to... edit it a bit. Yeah, a little editing! Just heading out to do that now."

"Why are you using such an old model?" She asked, taking a swaying step forward. The motion of her hips as she moved was just... Whoa, down libido, down.

"Pretty... pictures! The quality, that is, on the older models." He mopped at his forehead. Is it warm in this alley? "Much higher than on neural net recordings."

That sounded plausible. Now he would just make his exit and be in the clear. He took a step back just as a huge display went off somewhere in front of him, lighting everything in a sunny yellow. That was the only reason he noticed the shadow passing overhead. Glancing up, Ezra felt the blood drain from his face in shock. Time seemed to slow.

A glider flew in between him and the waterwork display. But that was not what shocked him. There was a man strapped to the glider, almost exactly as Ezra himself had been only a few hours ago. As he watched, the man threw a glowing ball out over them and then vanished behind a building. The waterwork exploded into burst of blues and silvers that sprinkled down on Ezra's upturned face as he tried to figure out what he had just seen.

The girl laughed with delight and cheered up at where the man had been.

"What," Ezra asked in a weak voice, "was that?"

"Oh, you didn't see them earlier? It's the Guild of Sundry! The Founder's Day event that everyone was talking about! They've had people flying around for the last two hours at least!"

"Two hours, you say?" Ezra didn't think his voice could sound much weaker.

"Yeah, it was a little shocking at first, but once everyone figured out what was going on, they really got into it, even throwing waterworks up to the gliders and trying to run along with them. It's been so much fun! You really didn't see them earlier? They've been everywhere!"

Ezra's mind was whirling, trying to make connections. What were the chances of the Guild of Sundry doing something exactly like what he had done at exactly the time he had done it? Was this a good thing, or a bad thing? People wouldn't be nearly as shocked at seeing him fly by anymore, they'd just think it had been part of the event. He was so caught up in his train of thought that he barely noticed the flirtatious smile that spread across the girl's face as she swayed closer to him.

"So," she said in a low and sultry voice, "did you get any footage of me dancing in there? I always try to stay where things are wildest."

"Oh, yeah, uh, I'm sure that I saw you." Ezra was still trying to puzzle out what these gliders meant for his plan.

"Really? I bet you got some really hot stuff of me. Can I see?" Her voice was a husky whisper as she reached for the camera. Ezra snapped back to the present and tried to stop her, but somehow her hand ended up behind his as she stepped in and pressed her body against him again, going up on her toes to plant a quick kiss on his lips. Frozen, stunned, he had no chance when she deftly disconnected the camera from its strap and retreated with her prize, popping on the holoscreen and starting the recording from the beginning.

"What you are seeing here is actual footage..." His voice sounded tinny and far away. Something unreadable flashed through the mischievously pleased look on the girl's face, so fast that Ezra thought he must have imagined it.

Her eyes were glued to the image. "This doesn't look like the club at all. What is it?"

#  Chapter 6

## Trouble with Tasers

Ezra could only stare as the girl watched the video. Whatever danger he was in, she would be in too if he couldn't convince her that what she was looking at wasn't what she was looking at. He had to protect her somehow. The thought jump started his brain and his mouth began spinning out the most believable lie he could come up with on the spot.

"That's for a... new drama coming out next season! I must have connected to the wrong storage device. Um, darn that outdated technology. If you could just give that back I'll be sure–"

"Why are you narrating it like that?" the girl giggled.

His recorded voice droned on, "Grass, trees, grass, more grass..." Ezra winced. How long did I go on that way?

"I, uh, thought it would be funny. That'll get taken care of in the final cut, of course. Now if I could just see the camera for one second–"

"This is boring," she declared with absolute certainty.

Ezra flinched. I didn't think it was that bad... but that's fine, maybe now she'll just give it back. He licked his lips, fingers inching closer to the recorder. Just another few centimeters...

"But don't worry." The girl shot him a sunny grin. "I'll give you something much better." Just before his fingertips could touch the camera she whirled past him, depositing another lightning fast kiss on his cheek.

And deleting the camera's footage.

Ezra felt as if he had been punched in the gut. He just stood there, stunned. All of his careful planning, and this party-girl, this... this nobody had ruined it in a matter of seconds! He should be furious! He tried to get angry, to do something, but his cheek was tingling traitorously where her lips had brushed it. His mouth seemed to be in cahoots with his cheek, as a stupid smile fought to spread across his lips.

"Hi! I'm having the most amazing Founder's Day here at the Eigen-Dance club! Well, I'm not actually in the club right now, because it's too loud to talk like this, but that's fine because it's amazing in there." She had the camera on, turned toward her, recording. "I love dancing, and they always have the best music and the best atmosphere here. Let's see, what else. Oh, the Guild of Sundry event tonight was absolutely awesome. Anyone who didn't see it really missed out on one of the coolest things that's ever happened ever. I'll try to get a shot of them if they go by again, but if you missed it then shame on you!"

Ezra was finally winning out against his libido. He hadn't had time to make a copy of his footage, but that was okay, he could plan to do this again. In fact, now that he knew about that secret underground base, he might be able to tap into their generators to relieve some of the strain on his lab. It would take a little planning, but he could make it work.

This is just a delay, that's all. He nodded to himself. It would be even easier next time, and he'd be ready for what he saw, and he wouldn't get waylaid on his way back. Yes! And now he didn't have to worry about the secret organization either, because there was no evidence. He probably should have made this choice from the beginning.

"Okay, now more about me," the girl continued, "Um, I like chocolate and anything citrus-y. I love lemon meringue pie, but I'm not very good at baking. Or any cooking, really. I enjoy sports, go Knights, woo! Oh, and I also absolutely adore flirting with cute guys in back alleys." She turned and winked at Ezra. Reason promptly lost its battle with libido. But who could blame him? She said he was cute.

"Aaand that's about all that I'm willing to share, unless you're buying me dinner." She let out another infectious laugh. "So that's it for me. Bye everyone! Love and kisses!" She puckered up and kissed the camera lens hard, then turned it off and tossed it back to Ezra. He fumbled it around for a second, then got a good grip on it and reattached it to the strap. It took him several tries, in which time she had closed the gap between them again.

"Now that," she said with an emphasizing tap of her fingers to the middle of his chest, "was much more entertaining than the other stuff." She took a step past him, wobbled briefly, and fell into Ezra again. He caught her and managed to keep her upright.

"Hey, are you alright?" He honestly wouldn't have minded too much if she wasn't, especially if it meant that she kept falling into him like that.

"Guess I had a little too much to drink in there." She managed to put a hint of chagrin into her voice while making it obvious that she wouldn't have had it any other way. "I think I may need to get home so I can sober up a little before the fun really starts out here."

She started to take another step and almost collapsed again. If Ezra hadn't been there, he was sure she'd be back on the ground by now. "You don't seem too steady, is there someone I can call for you?"

"I'm just staying at the university, right over there." She pointed back in the direction he'd come. "I don't mean to be too forward, but do you think you could help me get back there? It would really mean a lot to me." She hit him with a full power smile, dimples and everything, huge eyes almost glowing up at him. He never had a chance.

"S-sure," he stammered, "I could just walk beside you and, um-"

"Or carry me on your back"

"O-or carry you on my back, of course." This alleyway is really way too warm. "Sure, here, just, uh, hop on." Once she was settled, very warm and soft and supple and... Darn it, Ezra, he thought, keep it together. "Okay, next stop... wherever it is I'm going." He laughed nervously.

She laid her head on his shoulder, her breath tickling his ear as she sighed, "You're a really nice guy, so I'm gonna tell you secret, okay?" Her voice had dropped back to an intimate whisper. Ezra's heart seemed to be beating in double-time.

"Oh," he croaked out, mouth going very, very dry, face burning, "what's that?"

Her lips brushed his ear as she whispered ever-so-softly, "You're under arrest."

Something hard and cold pressed up against his throat. "There's a taser under your chin." Her voice grew steadily more detached and formal. "Turn around and walk out to the street, then left and five blocks down to the Department of Ordinances holding facility."

Ezra gulped and turned to comply. Just before he got to the crowded street, he opened his mouth to ask who she was. The object at his throat pressed in harder.

"No questions. Just follow instructions, don't make a scene, and everything will be just fine. I promise that you won't be hurt." Ezra shut his mouth and continued on his way. Her head still resting on his shoulder, she murmured directions to him as he went.

Was she with DOLT, or the mystery group? Was that really a taser? What would she do to him if he didn't cooperate? He could threaten to let out the secret, but she had already destroyed the recording and his leverage along with it. He could claim to have a copy! Somehow, he didn't think she would buy it. Or, worse, maybe she would. He stopped trying to think of what she would do then as his feet ate distance and hope at an alarming rate.

His eyes darted around wildly as they made their way through the crowd. Couldn't anyone see that he had been taken hostage? People moved out of his way and he saw a number of knowing looks, and his last hope of rescue crumbled away. A young man with a young woman apparently on the verge of sleep on his back, walking through the entertainment district on Founder's Day. The last thing anyone would think was that he needed help.

A pair of DOLT officers stood on the street, eyes slightly unfocused and twitching as they coordinated with nearby officers via a secure neural net connection. "Admit to being in the museum," the girl whispered as they approached. "Don't say anything to anyone about you-know-what. The DOLTs are looking for whoever did it, but they don't know about the recording. They'll hold you until we can get someone by to handle this. Just sit tight, be quiet, and keep looking cute."

She leaned forward – an action that Ezra probably would have enjoyed only a few minutes earlier – and planted another kiss on his cheek, then hopped down and pulled his arm behind his back, holding it just on the verge of where it would become painful. The taser vanished from his throat and was suddenly pressed up against his wrist, out of view from the DOLTs in front of them.

"Good evening officers!" Ezra winced as her voice rang out, altogether too loud. "I found this young man fleeing the Conservatorium of Culture a few minutes ago, subdued him and, in the spirit of civic duty, have brought him to your custody."

The DOLT nearest them stared with his mouth hanging open, ignoring his net connection. His partner stepped forward, bumping him and giving the now open virtual interface a meaningful look. "Thank you for your enthusiasm ma'am," he said, tone long-suffering. "But the Department of Ordinances and Lawful Temerity has everything well in hand. I'm sure that this citizen has nothing to hide and would appreciate it if you would-"

The taser pressed meaningfully into Ezra's wrist, and he squeaked out, "No, no, it was me, I was in the museum, I triggered the alarms." This earned him a skeptical look from the officer. The tension on his shoulder increased as the girl began twisting his arm upwards. "Also, also, I'm Ezra Hawkins! You can check my net signature right here! I believe you were notified that I would be in the university district and should be apprehended."

The first officer blinked, stunned, then cleared his throat, and said, "'In the university district causing trouble and should be apprehended' were the exact words, I believe." Ezra winced again.

"Yes, I was causing trouble, I broke into the museum, I set off the alarms, I knocked down the display cases. I admit to it all." The pressure eased on his arm and he chanced a glance over his shoulder at the girl again. She was giving him a wide-eyed stare as her mouth tightened into a hard line. So she hadn't known who he was. Well, now she knew what she was dealing with. She had to know now that this was too big for her. He felt the beginnings of a triumphant smile as he opened his mouth to speak again.

Her eyes narrowed into a hard look. The taser bit into his wrist, sudden pain blossoming out and coursing through his body. It hurt. It hurt. Every muscle in Ezra's body convulsed and he fought to breathe. His legs went weak and he started to fall. Someone caught him before he hit the ground and he heard the girl explaining how he might have had too much to drink tonight and of course she'd be willing to fill out any reports they needed. She was probably smiling that winning smile of hers up at them. He could almost see those adorable, evil little dimples. Damn hormones, Ezra thought as blackness washed over him.

#  Chapter 7

## Irritation, Interrogation, and the Truth

Ezra woke up groggy as the door to his holding cell opened.

"Come with me," grunted a uniformed DOLT officer.

So he was in custody. Well, at least whoever the other people were, they'd have to go through DOLT to get to him. He climbed to his feet slowly, muscles aching.

Mental note: avoid electrocution in the future.

He followed the guard through the building, where people in uniform were moving about briskly and efficiently. The guard left him in a room with a table and two chairs facing each other across it. He walked around the small room warily. Five minutes later, the door opened to admit a hard looking man in his early forties, a translucent public workspace hovering before him. He gestured to the chair on the far side of the room.

"I'm Lieutenant Jeffries, a detective for the Department, and I'd just like to have a quick word with you before you go on your merry way. Have a seat, Mr. Hawkins." He managed to convey a tremendous amount of disrespect in the slightly emphasized honorific. Ezra sat down.

Jeffries touched the table, which began displaying holographic depictions of the state in which Ezra had left the museum. They sat in silence and watched the pictures of broken glass and overturned display cases scroll by.

"What were you doing in the university district tonight, Mr. Hawkins?"

Ezra blinked. Surely Miss O'Donnell had already told them this. "I was setting off a glider for an experiment."

"That's funny, because no-one saw a glider being launched from anywhere near there tonight at all. Do you maybe have a different story you'd like to try?"

"Nooo, that's why I went there. I took a shuttle to higher ground but I-"

Jeffries slammed his hand down on the table, killing the images. "Don't screw with me here, kid. We have records of your wormhole travel to the plaza. We know you went to the city Center with a large, unmarked package. We know you went back into the inner workings of the space station wormhole generators and didn't come back out and we know that you had several generators turned off tonight for 'inspections.'" He made quotes in the air around the word. "We know you had a radiation badge in your pocket. What were you testing Ezra? Now we have several wormholes that have been unlinked from the network, and a package that was not on your person when you were brought in that we cannot find anywhere in the Sanctuary Center or the Conservatorium, the only two places we can reliably put you tonight. What was in the package?!" The detective's face had turned red as he practically shouted this out at Ezra.

"It-it was just my glider."

"Okay, you want to play it that way, that's fine. And where is your 'glider' now?"

"Back in my lab, assuming my experiment went fine. It may still be out somewhere past the barrier, and then I'll have to-"

"Wouldn't that just be convenient? We're already getting a warrant for your home, so we'll know soon enough. A package that no-one knows anything about, that you drag halfway across the city, and now it's just gone. What did you take from the museum Ezra? We'll find out eventually, but things'll go a whole lot smoother for you if you just some clean now."

Ezra stared at the man in front of him. He didn't understand what was going on. "What are you talking about? I didn't take anything from the–"

"Ah-ha! So you left it there, is that it? Just going to mess around with the ports, maybe have a little fun at everyone else's expense? You freaking Legacies." The man scowled in disgust. "You think that just because your mommy or daddy had one good idea that now you're god's gift to the Sanctuary. Well, let me tell you, you're all a worthless bunch of leeches, keeping us down under-"

"Excuse me?" Ezra's voice had taken on a cold, quiet tone. "What did you say about my parents?"

"Oh, did I strike a nerve there Mr. Hawkins? Maybe you were sabotaging the space station wormholes. A little revenge for mom and pop. Well, I hate to say it, but we ruined that plan. We had those shut down the moment we heard you were running loose."

"My parents were geniuses." Fury was building in Ezra. He clenched his teeth and continued. "You will take back what you said about them."

"Or what? You wanna add assaulting an officer to your charges? Go ahead, be my guest, tough guy." Jeffries sneered, sticking his chin out across the table. "Take your best shot. If you ask me, the Millennial explosion was the best thing to happen to the world since Founding. Put all those data banks the the public's hands, where they belong. Only one real problem, and he's sitting right in front of me."

Ezra's hands balled into fists and he started trembling with rage. Jeffries flashed him a malicious smile and whispered, "Go on Ezra, do it. I always thought you Legacies were a bunch of pansies. Prove me wrong."

"That will be quite enough, Mr. Jeffries."

The door to the room slid open, revealing a slight, unimpressive man with short, unimpressive medium blonde hair swept back from a widow's peak. The dark glasses that obscured his eyes and well-tailored suit practically screamed 'government'. Jeffries jerked up from where he had been leaning over the table.

"This is a legal interrogation over a matter of Sanctuary security. I'm going to have to ask you to leave Mr..."

The man smiled slightly. "My name really isn't important here." He pulled up a virtual document with the Chancellor's seal on it. "However, according to the Chancellor, I will be taking over this case."

Jeffries snarled as he received the document and scanned it, eyes lingering on the signature at the bottom of the page. He turned back to Ezra, leaned back over the table and said in a low voice, "This isn't over, Mr. Hawkins. I will find out what you are up to, and I will see you burn for it." He whirled and glared at the other man in the room before storming out.

The slight man sighed and walked to the door, locking it shut. He then went and checked the small bump that denoted the camera on the wall. "Ah, I see he already disabled it. How thoughtful."

Ezra stared at the man who had just come to his defense and wondered if he would have had a better chance with Jeffries. He was clearly not DOLT. That really only left one group of people who knew where and who he was. If that document was legitimate, it meant that they were backed by the Chancellor. He had a sudden sinking feeling as he realized that he wasn't getting out of this.

"Ezra James Hawkins. Named for your grandfather and your father, I believe. You've had a rather interesting Founder's Day. Slipping away from home and bluffing your way to the space elevator. Flying a glider out of a sector where you had already told DOLT you would be doing it. An admirable display of competence and resourcefulness, by the way. Setting a wormhole through a wormhole and documenting evidence that the world outside is not only inhabitable, but inhabited. Sneaking into and back out of a secret base. Granted, it was mostly empty due to your earlier endeavors but still, quite the accomplishment. Rerouting a wormhole to prevent immediate pursuit and apprehension, thereby forcing an agent to reveal herself to you and leave you in the hands of the more... traditional authorities. Quite the Founder's Day indeed." He paused to access the table's holographic drives and glanced over the images playing there.

Ezra gave what he hoped was a roguish grin. "You should see what I do for Christmas."

He received a very direct look. From behind the glasses. It must have taken practice. "Mr. Hawkins, while I appreciate the ability to keep one's wit in the face of insurmountable opposition, I happen to know that you spent last Christmas attempting to appear horribly sick so as to avoid a second date with Miss Mitzi Parnasus. I also know that you failed. I heard the crepes were delicious."

Ezra stopped trying to smile. "Who are you?" he whispered. It was probably only the residual anger from his earlier confrontation that gave him the nerve to ask the question.

"Ah, good, I see we understand each other. It's always nice to meet a young man who can keep up. You may call me Mr. Blair. I have a few questions for you, Ezra. May I call you Ezra?"

"Do I have a choice?"

Mr. Blair, or whatever his name really was, smiled again. "Of course, Ezra, you have all kinds of choices. In fact, that's why I'm here. But first I need to ask you: what do you know about the history of Sanctuary?"

Ezra blinked. He had expected thinly veiled threats, maybe, but if this was a threat it had clearly put on its winter clothing. He answered hesitantly. "Well... much of our history has been written by the Legacy houses. A house is elevated to Legacy status by developing some new and note-worthy technology and keeping it in their genetically encrypted data banks–"

Blair waved his hand dismissively. "No, no, earlier than that Ezra. What do you know about the founding of Sanctuary?"

"Um, the Founders were a group of men and women dedicated to science. They stayed out of the Great War and created Sanctuary as a safe haven for mankind to live in peace. Only, after the war, there was no-one left. There was nothing left. They put up the barrier to protect themselves and tried to preserve as much of humanity as they could."

"That's very good, exactly what they teach in the history classes."

"But..." Ezra took a deep breath. "But it's not like that anymore. There are people outside. I saw them! Healthy people! The world is healthy again! There's no reason for us to be stuck here, hiding in our city like... like hermits or some kind of–"

"Prisoners?" Mr. Blair gave Ezra a sad little smile and took off his glasses, setting them on the table. His light brown eyes initially seemed unimpressive, much like everything else about the man, but on a second glance Ezra glimpsed a hard, fierce intelligence behind them. "Unfortunately, Ezra, prisoners are exactly what we are. What we've been since the beginning."

"What do you mean?" Ezra's voice wavered uncertainly.

"There was a Great War, Ezra. We lost."

#  Chapter 8

## Visions of the Past

Ezra took a moment to try digesting what he had heard. Surely he's joking, or trying to trick me, he thought to himself. How could they be prisoners? The barrier didn't prevent them from leaving. They had the greatest technology the world had ever seen at their disposal. They had left the planet, built a colossal space station. They had more freedom at their disposal than they knew what to do with.

"That doesn't make any sense," he said, "even if there was something to actually keep us in here, which there isn't, we could get up and leave to space whenever we wanted."

"Perhaps prisoners isn't quite the word, although I assure you, we are that. Maybe 'quarantined' better describes it. Not many records survived the Great War, and the Founders of Sanctuary began changing history the moment they had a history to write. All that we know is this. We are the zero point zero zero zero one percent of the human population that decided to cling to technology in the face of an enemy who had overcome us. We do not know who this enemy was, but we know what they were capable of."

He inserted a small card into the table. Ezra raised his eyebrows. Not much was kept on external data, off the net, these days. He shot a discreet glance at the man, and opened a private program to record whatever he was about to see. The program failed to initialize, returning that it was blocked somehow. Ezra blinked at this in surprise, as a two dimensional video began to play.

"This is one of the last recovered recordings from before the dark years of the Great War, during which nearly all technology on the planet ceased to function." Ezra quickly engaged another program to check for signs of file manipulation with what he was seeing. There was an image of a city, glimmering under the sun, surrounded by more water than he had ever seen up close. Two bridges reached out to it, gracefully connecting the peninsula to the land on either side. "The city you're looking at," Mr. Blair stated, "was called San Francisco. It was one of the first to be wiped out during the War."

Ezra watched in fascination as the camera zoomed in to the closer of the two bridges, a monstrous red construction suspended from steel cables. The frame wobbled back and forth as it adjusted. It's an amateur, Ezra realized as a low buzzing that must have once been narration started up, but whatever he was saying had clearly been lost long ago. It was almost eerily similar to his own recording from earlier in the evening.

On the bridge were people. Ezra quickly estimated that there must be close to a million of them. About as many as lived in Sanctuary.

They were all walking away from the city, but something looked... off about how they were moving. Then he realized what it was. Every single one of them was stepping completely in sync. His eyes darted to the program, but it had detected no video tampering. Most of the people struggled against it, some tried to catch hold of objects to stop themselves, but they all just kept moving.

The camera panned over more of the stream of humanity as it came up the hill behind the cameraman. Up close, he saw that many of the walking people were crying, that some were even attempting to run back down the hill only to be caught in whatever held the others and forced to march back. The camera continued to pan, then the man who was filming appeared, looking scruffy and unkempt, like he had just gotten out of bed. He was saying something and gesticulating until he looked off into the distance, freezing mid-word before hurriedly spinning the camera around again.

The last of the stream of people was just coming off of the bridge when the earth began to shake. The city in the distance started to tremble. Waves lapped further and further up the shore. It took Ezra a moment to realize what he was seeing.

The city was sinking.

Faster and faster it sank, water pouring over streets, houses, buildings. The bridges twisted and strained before being ripped to pieces, cables whipping around like enormous rubber bands pulled past their breaking points. At some point the cameraman fell, just as countless others around him had. His camera returned to the scene just in time to witness the last of the hills sink beneath the waves. Everything stopped shaking. The camera fell to the ground, capturing a few last moments of people crying and hugging, rocking in place, their faces masks of terror and despair before the picture went black.

"That can't have been real," Ezra said. He looked at his program, but it still faithfully displayed nothing amiss. "You... you fabricated it. Made it look old. Maybe made it a long time ago. There's no way that something like that could happen and we... and people wouldn't hear... wouldn't know that it... it's fake, it has be." Ezra turned pleading eyes to Mr. Blair, hoping that he would give away something, anything.

"I wish that were case," the man said sadly. "You of all people should appreciate the kinds of secrets that are kept here."

"But... but something like that. A weapon that could do that... it could destroy Sanctuary, could wipe us off the face of the Earth. If the technology existed, we... we would know. We would have some way to deal– "

"Ezra," Mr. Blair interrupted him in a soft voice, "if I was trying to convince you that you needed to keep what you know a secret, what do you think I would do? You say you want to help people. Do you know why I showed you that recording?"

"You... you wanted to give me a reason why I shouldn't let people know. Why it would hurt them if they knew." Ezra ran a hand through his hair, trying to work his way around the terrified faces in the film. "But think of the good we could do! We could revolutionize the world out there! We could make mankind greater than it has ever been! And everyone could see the world, not just our little valley in the middle of nowhere and the space station. The whole world! It's beautiful out there, and we've all been missing it!"

Mr. Blair sighed and shook his head again. "Suffice it to say that it has been tried. The result was a backlash from the outside world so brutal and decisive that we were left desperately scrambling for technology that would enable us to escape the planet very quickly. Wormhole technology, in fact, that your ancestors were kind enough to invent for us. But none of that really matters. What matters right now is what you will do. Or perhaps what we shall do with you."

Ezra straightened up in his chair and cast a belligerent glare across the table at the other man. Mr. Blair chuckled. "Dramatic, aren't we? I am here to offer you a choice, Ezra."

Mr. Blair raised his hand, counting off the options on his fingers. "One. You may go back to your life as it currently stands. You will not speak of what you know and have learned to anyone. You will never attempt anything like what you have done tonight again. An agent will be assigned to you. They will become your very best friend. You will include them in everything you do and will never be far from their side. If you ever breathe a word of what you know to anyone or attempt to evade the agent, you will suddenly realize that your work requires you to sequester yourself away from the world. Probably for the rest of your life."

Ezra gulped. Well, he thought to himself, you were looking forward to thinly veiled threats. "And the other option?" His voice cracked as he asked the question.

"You join up. You've already proven to be a rather resourceful young man who does not completely lose his head under pressure. Keeping secrets is only one small part of what we do, and believe me when I say that we make the world a better place for everyone, not just those of us who happen to live in Sanctuary." Mr. Blair gave another of his little smiles. "Also, frankly, we need the help, and I would rather you became an asset than a liability."

Ezra sat for a moment and thought, staring down at the table. Then he looked up, resolve flashing in his muddy brown eyes. "I would need to know more. I'm not signing up for something just because you say it's the right thing to do. Right now the only thing I know about you is that you are responsible for keeping the biggest secret in Sanctuary. Will you tell me the truth? The whole truth about Sanctuary and the world outside and what it is you do?"

A small frown creased Mr. Blair's face. "This really isn't a negotiation."

Ezra leaned forward in his chair. "And I won't join something that works against my conscience. Besides, what could you tell me that would make matters worse, provided I could come up with proof for what I already know."

Smiling wryly, Mr. Blair nodded in concession. "I suppose that it really couldn't make you more of a security risk. Very well, I will give you the short version, and you can judge if we are what I've said we are. There's no going back once you know this. Are you sure this is what you want?"

Ezra's expression was serious.

"Tell me."

#  Chapter 9

## A Brief History of Everything

"We'll start at the beginning, or at least as close to it as we can get. You already know that some unknown force defeated our technology and banished us here, to Sanctuary. Or maybe we just hid. It really doesn't make a difference. When Sanctuary was founded, everyone worried about our resources. Would there be enough of anything to go around? Thus, the Legacy houses were born. Persons who had specific knowledge, knowledge that was deemed useful to Sanctuary as a whole, began to guard it jealously. They kept it in the family, teaching their children privately in order to safeguard their place here. To create a legacy for themselves. People scrambled for importance. Over time they developed better ways of guarding their knowledge, and when genetic keys became part of the security used, nearly all research into any field which could compromise their secrets was made illegal. No cloning, no genetic research, nothing that could take away the power that the Legacy houses had accrued." Mr. Blair laughed sadly at this.

"Needless to say, it has significantly slowed progress, since cooperation requires trust, and we have quite a history of not trusting each other. This system continued for over five hundred years. During this time the space elevator was built and the space station begun. While it was under construction, several rather enterprising individuals looked at the outside world and wondered why we were going to space in the first place. After all, by then the horrors of the Great War seemed nothing more than tall tales, told by great-great grandfathers to frighten children when they were young. And they had come so far. Surely everything would have settled down." Mr. Blair fixed Ezra with another penetrating look. "This was the beginning of our incursion back into the world."

"At first, everything seemed fine. Most people outside were eager to lay their hands on what we had to offer. We established trade routes, imported raw materials from all over the world and exported whatever the world wanted. Of course, some people didn't think that trade should ever enter our equations. After all, we had technology, and they didn't. There was adventure to be had and glory to be won, and groups of reckless young upstarts with more brains than were good for them and too much fire in their bellies began setting out to make their fortunes." Another rather pointed look.

Ezra bristled. He was anything but reckless. Also, what did 'fire in their bellies' even mean? He was about to speak up about it, but Mr. Blair just chuckled again and kept talking.

"They would go out with friends and weapons and take what they wanted. Food, riches, women... no-one out there could stop them, and no-one in here cared enough to do anything about it. That was when things went wrong. People who fought back against us suddenly developed powers. Control over the elements. Practically overnight, individuals who had resisted us gained supernatural abilities that more than leveled the playing field. Or maybe they always had them, and just never used them until we went too far. I doubt we'll ever know."

"Powers? What do you mean, 'supernatural abilities'?"

"Complete mastery over nature," Blair clarified. "The earth bowed to their will. They would call fire or lightning and it would jump to obey. Wind and water rose up at their hands, turning the skies and seas against us wherever we went. For every one elementalist struck down, four more seemed to spring up. We fought and were beaten. Horrible defeats, over and over, until we had been pushed back to Sanctuary, where we trembled in fear and waited for the final blow. But the end did not come. They established strongholds to watch us, and left us alone. History as you know it came into being and the dash to leave the planet began in earnest. The space station became a top priority, and a substantial bounty was put in place for the first person to achieve faster than light travel."

There was a knock at the door, and Mr. Blair rose to answer. Ezra took the time to consider what he had been told.

Magic! Well, maybe he hadn't called it that, but it certainly seemed pretty clear to Ezra that, somehow, the people outside who had given up their technology had replaced it with magic. If he could just find out how... the possibilities were endless! Calling lightning at a whim? He could remotely power a wormhole for days! He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't notice the girl from earlier in the evening, dressed much more conservatively now, enter the room. She stood directly in front of him, playful little smile gracing her lips, and cleared her throat, snapping him out of his reverie.

"You!" Ezra jumped up and away from her. "You electrocuted me!"

She rolled her eyes. "Only a little. You were about to do something stupid. I told you to follow instructions."

"And... and you tricked me! You..." Ezra's face flushed and he stammered on in an embarrassed voice, "you flirted with me."

The girl tapped her chin with one finger. "Yes. Yes I believe I did." She sat down, kicked her feet up onto the table and crossed her legs as a languid smile spread over her face. "And you loved every second of it."

Ezra stammered out a few more incomprehensible syllables, then looked up to glare at Mr. Blair, who was massaging the bridge of his nose, eyes closed in a look of annoyance. "Please," the man said in a dry monotone, "don't stop on my account. Go on, this is fascinating."

The girl let out a merry peal of laughter.

Ezra pointed an accusatory finger at her. "You didn't even know who I was or what I was doing until you stole my camera!"

"It was my night off. And if I'd been sober I would have had you begging to turn yourself in before you knew what was going on." She gave him another wicked smile. "And you would have loved that too."

Ezra blushed even harder. If that was possible.

"Agent Doe, please stop tormenting Mr. Hawkins." Mr. Blair sighed, "He is ill-equipped to handle it."

"Yes sir," She drawled lazily, eyes never leaving Ezra, a slight pout on her lips. "But I do so under protest."

"Noted," Mr. Blair had apparently come down with a sudden headache, as he was now rubbing his temples. He walked over to the table and picked up his sunglasses. "Now, where were we... ah, yes, we were beaten and we ran. Roughly twenty years later, one of our remaining satellites picked up something. A huge conflagration, clearly visible from space, suddenly flared to life at the northern end of South America and spread rapidly through Central America, finally coming to a stop in North America. It burned for four months. We watched as hundreds of thousands of people died horribly in the fires. A covert team was dispatched to find out what had happened, what it meant for us. Apparently, in the twenty years that we spent hiding, a group of people who could control fire, called the fire-kissed, had risen to political power. Nearly every person of significant power in any government was a fire-kissed, and the devastation that we witnessed was the result of a disagreement between two rivals groups within their ranks."

"I've seen some of the footage," Doe interjected, her voice very serious, almost pained, "it was horrible. The normal people, the ones who didn't have any special powers... they were slaughtered in the fighting. They weren't part of the dispute. They never had a chance."

"That," Mr. Blair continued, fierce pride in his eyes, "marked the beginning of our organization. We asked ourselves who could stand up for the have-nots of the world, the ones who lived on the outside with the monsters who had defeated us, the ones who could not stand up for themselves? And the answer was obvious." He placed a hand on agent Doe's shoulder. "We could do it. We would do it. We are the shield of the helpless. We are the sword of the righteous. We are the world's great equalizer. When elementalists abuse their powers, we are the ones who stand up for the wronged, the ones who avenge the victims."

"And you want me to join?" Ezra asked, awed by the passion and pride of the two people sitting in front of him.

Mr. Blair bowed slightly. "It is my pleasure to invite you."

Ezra swallowed down the lump in his throat. "All right," he said, voice sounding much more stable then he felt, "I'm in."

"Pay up," Agent Doe said, hand extended up and behind her. A smile was forming on Mr. Blair's face as he handed over the sunglasses. She put them on and leaned back in her chair. The glasses looked ridiculous on her. She looked smug.

The smile continued to grow until it covered Mr. Blair's face, transforming it from something unimpressive to something extraordinary. "Welcome, Ezra James Hawkins, to the Guild of Sundry."

#  Chapter 10

## Good Times with the Guild

"The Guild of Sundry?! Those... those clowns?! You're telling me that you're... that they're... that we're..." Ezra sputtered and nearly fell out of his chair.

Agent Doe gave him a shocked look and Mr. Blair burst into a deep belly laugh, reaching a hand out in front of Doe and gesturing with his fingers. She tore off the glasses and slammed them into his hand, glaring at Ezra.

"I can't believe it! You really didn't figure it out? After everything you saw? The base? The freaking gliders?! Ugh, this is so typical." She threw her hands up in disgust, then crossed her arms, looking away from Ezra. "I'll get you back for this, Ezzy."

Mr. Blair's laughter died down slowly, as he wiped a few tears from his eyes. "That aspect of what we do, what you know as the Guild of Sundry, was actually founded because of your family. Before your grandfather developed traversable portals, your great grandfather had managed to create stable, non-traversable wormholes. Unfortunately, there were some rather bizarre unanticipated side effects for reality. Sections of Sanctuary would loop in time, slow down or even freeze. It caused completely understandable panic."

"Wait, I've heard of that." Ezra frowned. "But... but that was just a Guild of Sundry prank. I heard that there were teams of performers all over the city, acting normally, freezing for a minute, then continuing as if nothing happened. Or acting out the same sequence of events over and over. There are videos of it on the net! You're telling me that it was all..."

Ezra stopped talking as the pieces started coming together in his head. GoS on the doors in the secret base. Guild of Sundry. The man in the base he had fled saying something about a mission. Gliders out everywhere, covering up what he was doing, making it all part of the event. Just like they had for his great grandfather. "You cover it up. The things that would frighten people, that would make them ask questions that could lead to answers you don't want to share. The Guild of Sundry. And no-one looks past it, because they think it's all just an elaborate prank."

"And you couldn't have figured this out two minutes ago?" Agent Doe shot him an exasperated glance.

"Unfortunately, I'm afraid we've run out of time here. There's a skiff waiting outside to take you home. Miss Doe, please escort Mr. Hawkins and see to it that he has an appropriate cover story. We'll contact you soon, Ezra." Mr. Blair deftly removed the card from the table and wiped its memory.

Ezra was still caught up in thought. He wracked his brain for other Guild of Sundry events, trying to tie them to potential cover-ups. The Day of Pants-less Shuttles... maybe something that made people forgetful? The University Statue Caper... had someone animated statues? The Great Waffle Switch... a... um... huh. He looked up to find Mr. Blair gone and Agent Doe waiting for him at the door, smiling a knowing smile.

"The Great Waffle Switch?" she asked. Ezra blinked and nodded his head. The girl shrugged. "I don't think anyone's figured that one out. Come on, we should get you home."

They walked back through the DOLT office and collected Ezra's belongings. Ezra was still trying to work through everything he had heard that night. Outside, the Founder's Day gala had finally come to end. Streets were mostly clear, and the dizzying kaleidoscope of color that painted the town was beginning to fade. A closed skiff was parked in front of the building. They got in and it hovered to life, gliding off into the night toward the Hawkins estate.

"Ezra," Doe said, looking directly at him, "I'm going to help you with your cover story, but it will be up to you to make sure that it sticks. You're going to have to deal with the people in your life who might notice something is off or ask difficult questions."

"Okay, I think I can manage something Agent Doe... look, do you have a real name? Something I can call you?" He thought the question might somehow be inappropriate. How were you supposed to ask secret agent for her name?

She smiled back at him. "I'm afraid it really is Doe. I come from a long line of Doe's, all the way back to a man at Founding who apparently didn't want to give his real name. A proud family with a long-standing grunt tradition."

Ezra winced. Grunt, or more formally, GRNT, stood for General Research Non-inheriting Technician. They were the people who never got a breakthrough, the nuts and bolts of Sanctuary. Assistants, maintenance workers, service technicians... the kinds of people who went to school to learn rather than being taught at home by parents or siblings. And certainly not the sort of people a Legacy heir should be overly friendly with. How was he going to work her into any plausible cover story? Kirsten O'Donnell would never find this acceptable, and the woman had a tendency to pierce even his most carefully laid deceptions.

"I'm afraid you still have me at a disadvantage," he said, making small-talk while he furiously thought up and dismissed idea after idea. "A first name maybe? Something a little... less formal?"

"Most people typically call me Doe, but to friends I'm Gal. I think we can be friends, even though I'm still immensely disappointed in you."

"Gal?" he said sceptically.

She paused as she took out a tube of cherry red lipstick and gave him a level look. "Short for Galois. My parents wanted a boy. And a mathematician. I figured since I'd already failed at the first, I shouldn't even bother trying for the second. Hence the Guild."

Ezra made every effort not to laugh. Her name wasn't her fault. Also, she probably still had that taser somewhere. "Gal, then. It's a pretty name."

She rolled her eyes and began applying the lipstick. He grimaced as he dismissed another plan involving a prolonged stay with local grunts to rekindle his passion for research. Gal really wasn't being very helpful with this whole cover story thing. Ezra was about to say something when they came to a stop. He looked out the window in a panic as the Hawkins estate loomed above them. He wasn't ready, he hadn't thought of anything yet, he needed more time!

Ezra turned despairing eyes back to Gal just as she grabbed his head firmly with both hands and gave him a big, wet kiss on the left cheek. She then reached past, opened the door, and pushed him out. He stumbled but caught himself before he could fall. Gal grinned at him through the open door.

"Good luck, Ezzy." She gave him a wink. "I know you'll do me proud."

The woman began to close the door but he caught it halfway. She looked up at him quizzically. "I just have one more question," he said. "Why the phone booth?"

Her grin returned, even wider and more dazzling than before. "I thought that would be obvious. Where else would you go to become a hero?"

#  Chapter 11

## First Dates and Other Elusive Creatures

Ezra stared after the departing skiff. Do her proud? What was she talking about? He was... ah! His cover story! He didn't have anything! Stupid pretty girl. Stupid kissing. He had to think of something, and he had to think of it fast.

"Alright," he whispered, shutting his eyes. "Come on, Ezra, think! I could say... um..."

"Ahem." Someone clear their throat behind him.

Ezra turned around slowly, heart sinking. His secretary was not three feet away, arms crossed in front of her, toe tapping the ground, radiating fury.

"Oh, uh, Kirsten. I-I mean Miss O'Donnell. You'll never believe what happened–"

She closed the space between them, hand darting out to grasp his chin. She turned his head sharply to the right, her eyes narrowing. Ezra imagined he could feel her anger scorching the side of his face.

"Ah, I see." She sniffed with disdain. "I'll have to call the Crawfords and reschedule for later in the day. I suggest you get some rest." With that she released him, hand brushing her skirt as if it had been sullied. "Will that be all, Mr. Hawkins?" Without waiting for a response, Kirsten whirled and stormed back up the walkway and through the open door of the house.

Shaken, he followed, and caught a glimpse of his reflection in a window. Turning his face to the right, he saw the impression of Gal's lips on his cheek in dark red lipstick. He thought he should probably be mortified or embarrassed by this, but maybe with everything else that had happened tonight, he could afford to put that off until the morning. Shaking his head in wonder, he went inside, up to his room, closed the door and promptly fell asleep. He did not bother to find the bed first.

==

Ezra woke up with the sun in his eyes and a hard lump digging into his stomach. He rolled over on the floor. The floor? Yes, he was on the floor. And the lump... that was his camera. Why had he fallen asleep on his camera in the middle of the floor? Abruptly the events of the previous night rushed back to him and he leaped up. Or tried too. His legs hadn't quite gotten the message that he was going to be using them yet and had instead decided to complain about a night spent running, hiding, and carrying a girl around. Oh, and being electrocuted. They seemed to be opposed to that too. Rubbing bleary eyes, Ezra called up a time display. That's why the sun was glaring through his window. It was two thirty. Two thirty.

He was late for his date with Liza Crawford. His head resumed its position on the floor with a thump. This would be it, the last straw. Kirsten would be up here any minute, meat cleaver in hand, ready to lecture him on the importance of being neat, organized, and punctual as she chopped him into little pieces. To better hide the body, of course.

He raced to the shower, scrubbing and rinsing then toweling dry in a whirlwind of frantic activity. Teeth and hair were simultaneously brushed while he rifled through the clothing that littered the room, trying to find something clean and appropriate. His pants were halfway up, a shirt clutched between his toes for inspection, when two polite knocks at the door proceeded his secretary into the room. She, of course, looked prim and proper, microcosm of data terminals floating at her fingertips.

Glancing him over, Kirsten appearing entirely unperturbed by his current state of disarray. "Good, you're awake." Her eyes went to an interface and she began ticking off items on a list. "I've rescheduled your appointment with Miss Crawford to four this afternoon, and the cook has been informed that you are not to be given anything to eat until you return tonight. We wouldn't want to spoil your early dinner, after all. I've taken the liberty of dispatching an inspector to estimate the extent of the damages sustained by the Conservatorium last night. Also, several port stations have called to ask if they may resume standard operation. May I assume that you are finished with them?"

Ezra pulled his toothbrush from his mouth and cleared his throat. "Ah, um, yes, Miss O'Donnell. Everything should be, uh, well in hand now."

"Very good, sir," Kirsten continued smoothly. "The cleaning grunts have requested that you unlock your lab so that they may dust inside. We will be leaving for the University Plaza park to meet Miss Crawford in one hour, so please pick out something..." She looked down at the shirt still clutched by his toes and sniffed in disapproval. "...acceptable for your rendezvous with the lady." Her eyes flashed with emerald fire, belying her polite tone. "Will that be all, Mr. Hawkins?"

Ezra nodded meekly as she spun, straightened the workspace containment field on his desk, and swept out of the room. He looked down at his shirt. He looked up at the door. Then, groaning, he began looking for something 'acceptable' to wear.

An hour later, Ezra was chafing in a well pressed shirt that seemed to have decided its optimal shape without consulting the body inside it first. He gave a nervous smile as Kirsten walked up and looked him over. "It'll have to do," she sighed quietly. Ezra quickly opened the skiff's door for her, smile fixed in place like a death grin.

She ignored him as she stepped in and began giving instructions to the driver. "We'll need to get to a barber first, of course. We can't have him going out looking like a mangy dog. And you will have to drop by a florist while I see to his hair. He has almost certainly has forgotten to bring her a token of his–"

Ezra let the door slide shut and sighed. Well, at least if she was fixated on micro-managing every aspect of his life, it should be easy to do... whatever it was that the Guild of Sundry would have him doing. Kirsten and the Guild could probably get by without ever knowing that other existed. Fortified by that thought, Ezra hardly even flinched when Kirsten rolled down her window while looking at her time display, cleared her throat and gave him a rather pointed look.

==

Twenty eight minutes and several nightmarish stops later, his hair clipped to a curly cap around his head, bouquet of Engelmann Legacy roses in hand, Ezra found himself at the park in the center of the University Plaza. He glanced at Kirsten, standing beside him and organizing something on the net. She was pointedly not looking at the Converatorium or the bright yellow caution displays that surrounded it. The university port station was also declined notice, as were the technicians frantically attempting to bring the wormhole he had hijacked during his escape back online.

Kirsten suddenly looked up and smiled to someone in front of Ezra. He whipped his head around and snapped his best smile in place, roses held out in front of him. Liza Crawford was tall, at least a half dozen centimeters taller than Ezra, and the picture of a conservative Legacy heiress. A flowing, lace trimmed dress with a high neck complemented her silver necklace and earrings. Strands of silver bells had been woven into a long, dark braid that hung over her shoulder. Her eyes were cast demurely down, honey colored freckles dusting her light olive skin.

Without warning, a huge bear of a man loomed up in front of Ezra. Mr. Crawford scowled down at him from behind bushy eyebrows and a shaggy beard. "Hrmph, doesn't look like much, then, does he."

"Daddy." Liza gave Ezra a hesitant smile. "Be nice."

"Now listen here young man." Mr. Crawford placed a massive hand on Ezra's shoulder. "I can understand about gallivanting around on a nice Founder's Day night and stirring up a little trouble. It's good to give those DOLT boys a little exercise from time to time. I was a young man myself once, after all. But there is a time and a place for everything, and I don't want to hear about any funny business while you are entertaining my little girl. You understand me?"

"Yes sir," Ezra squeaked out. The man's hand seemed as big as Ezra's head. He made a note never to speak poorly of historians anywhere they might hear him.

"If you are referring to the events of last night, Mr. Crawford, I can assure you that Ezra was only working through a rather strenuous experiment that may have resulted in some unfortunate side effects. You know how these things can be." Kirsten stepped smoothly up next to them, placing a hand on Crawford's enormous arm.

The man's face split into a genuinely pleased smile. "Kirsten O'Donnell, I heard you had taken up with a bunch of these egghead types. Keeping them in line, eh?" The big, shaggy man chuckled. "Always a pleasure to see you girl, how're things with the old crowd down in the Division?" Kirsten put on a tolerant smile and began fielding a myriad of personal questions from the huge Mr. Crawford.

While they were talking, Liza inched up to Ezra. "Is it true that you rerouted a dozen wormholes and stole the entire twentieth century culture exhibit from the Conservatorium last night, then hid it in a secret pocket dimension, and that's why it's closed?" She spoke in a hushed, rapid whisper, brown eyes watching him intently.

"That I... what?"

"And Mitzi Parnasus told me that she heard from a very reliable source that a whole team of elite DOLT special forces spent all night hunting you down, and when they finally brought you in you just laughed at the cell where they locked you up and were gone without a trace by morning!"

"I... no, that didn't happen. It was all an... experiment that I was conducting. And that's why the wormholes aren't on the, um, network anymore and now..." Darn it, how had Kirsten made this look so easy? "You know how these things can be?"

Liza nodded her head sagely. "You really can't take everything that Mitzi says too seriously. She probably got something confused. But still, I heard that you–"

"Ezzy!" A familiar voice rung out across the lawn. Ezra's heart tried to stop. No, he prayed, not here, not now, not her.

He turned and saw Galois Doe running toward them, waving. Her skirt was entirely too short. Her blouse was entirely too clingy. Her lips were entirely... oh god, exactly the same color as the lipstick from last night. Maybe Kirsten had that meat cleaver on her. He was fairly certain that Mr. Crawford could make it quick.

Perhaps he could signal to her that this was a very bad time. Something like a cutting motion across the neck, but one that no-one else would notice. She was getting close, he'd have to make it fast. It might not be too late if he could just get her to...

Suddenly her arms were wrapped around his neck and her body was pressed against his. She crushed her mouth to his, and his hands wrapped around her waist. Traitors, Ezra thought at them.

"Sorry I'm late," she said breathlessly once the kiss had ended. "I got caught up at the club and just lost track of time."

Ezra took a quick inventory of his other companions. Mr. Crawford looked confused, which was better than murderous. Liza had a hand up to her mouth, staring at him with her lips pressed into a scandalized O. Kirsten's arms were crossed in front of her, brilliant green eyes burning with rage as she glared at Ezra.

"Hi, uh, Gal. I-It's... good to see you again." Ezra gulped. He could practically feel Kirsten's glare boring into the back of his head as Gal beamed up at him.

"Oh, well, pleased to meet you. I'm Liza Crawford, a friend of Mr. Hawkins." Liza extended her hand in a polite greeting. "And you are...?"

"Yes, Ezra," Kirsten's voice probably could have cut diamonds, "Why don't you introduce us to your... friend."

"Oh... yes! Sorry, this is, uh, Galois Doe. She lives here in Sanctuary." Of course she lives here in Sanctuary, you idiot, Ezra thought to himself. Quick, say something better! "We met last night." He cringed.

"Yeah, we were out behind this club, Eigen-Dance, watching the waterworks. It was so amazing, the Guild of Sundry was flying around everywhere. Did you all see it?" Ezra stared at her in horror. Why was she doing this to him?

Mr. Crawford rumbled to Kirsten, "But I thought you said that he was-"

"Oh, I didn't see it," Liza said, clearly caught up in the excitement of meeting an actual interesting person. "But I heard that it was positively terrifying. They didn't even have anyone to catch them if they fell!"

Gal's smile broadened and she leaned closer to Liza, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Well, I heard that they were just a distraction so that someone could use wormholes to steal the entire twentieth century culture exhibit from the Conservatorium, and that's why it's closed." Liza gasped again and snapped her attention back to Ezra. It just kept getting worse. Time to cut and run.

"Well, good, we've met up now, like we said we would." Ezra tried to surreptitiously push away from Gal, but she stuck to his arm. "So... you probably need to get back to the club."

"But Ezzy," she pouted prettily, "You said that we'd go check out the Lolcats exhibit, then after we could visit that little place you knew."

"Yes Ezra, you know how important it is not to break your appointments. It would certainly be most inconsiderate." Ezra didn't even dare to look at Kirsten. With the acid already dripping from her voice, he was fairly sure that making eye contact would reduce him to ash.

"Now wait a minute," began Mr. Crawford, "he was coming here to meet my Liza, wasn't–"

"It was really great to meet you all." Gal beamed at Kirsten and Crawfords. "I hope you all have fun with whatever you're doing!" With that, she dragged Ezra away toward the museums.

Ezra glanced back over his shoulder as he was pulled along. Mr. Crawford was scratching his dark, shaggy head. Kirsten was doing her best to kill him with her eyes at a hundred paces. Liza had her hands clasped in front of her and was looking around excitedly, as if she expected an group of ninjas to come jumping out of the bushes at any moment.

They rounded the cordoned off Conservatorium, where Gal pushed him firmly against a wall, smiling playfully. "That was pretty good Ezzy, I think they bought the whole 'star-struck lover' thing perfectly." She pushed away and punched him in the shoulder. "But you still owe me for last night."

"What are you doing here?" he asked, rubbing his arm. "I'm going to catch so much heat for that little stunt, I'll be lucky to see the light of day again sometime this-"

Gal put a finger over his lips. "You'll be fine. And cheer up, Ezzy." She turned and sauntered toward the staff entrance to the museum. "Today, you get to be a hero."

#  Chapter 12

## The Gang's All Here

Ezra and Gal made their way through the museum. He hadn't come this way the night before. The lack of general chaos was a dead giveaway.

They reached the superhero exhibit. It had actually been cleaned up nicely, everything set back in place, although a few pedestals were still missing their cases. Gal opened the door to the phone booth nestled in the back corner of the room and stepped inside, gesturing for Ezra to join her. With the door closed, it was a rather tight fit. Ezra found himself bumping against Gal every time he tried to adjust his positioning, mumbling, "Sorry, oh, I didn't mean to... sorry."

She wiggled against him a little then gave him a wicked smile that heated his cheeks. Taking the phone off of the receiver, she dialed a short sequence of numbers. It rang once before a low voice on the other end crackled through, "Operator."

"Alice and one white rabbit, looking for a hole," Gal responded. The booth was suddenly suffused with light as they were scanned, then the room changed as a portal formed and Ezra found himself back in the Guild of Sundry headquarters. Mr. Blair walked into the room just as they departed the wormhole platform.

"Ah, Mr. Hawkins, good to see you again." He motioned for Ezra to join him as turned back to the door. "Come with me, please."

They walked down the stairs to the second level and headed down the hallway, Gal prowling behind them. This place really did look quite a bit less sinister than it had the night before, with all of the lights on. The occasional uniformed person stopped and saluted Mr. Blair as they passed.

"I'll give you a brief run-down of what's going to happen here Ezra. We have contacts in the outside world who alert us to any trouble with elementalists they may hear about it, usually by placing a colored flag at a prearranged location for our spotters to find. The flags denote the type of trouble they are having. Red for fire, brown for earth, yellow for lightning, blue for water and white for air. When a flag is spotted, we dispatch a team for a meet-and-greet with the local contact to find out a bit more precisely what is going on. Teams consist of three members each. That team then either takes immediate action or comes back here for the necessary equipment and additional assistance."

They were walking at a rather sedate pace, just passing room 226.

"Now, most of our recruits are like Miss Doe here." Blair gestured back to the girl, and she batted her eyes up at Ezra. "They tend to come from grunt families. People who don't really get along well in Sanctuary, who have an unhealthy fascination with sports or acting or music, will often find their way to us. The kind of people that your Miss O'Donnell probably keeps you well away from. They make up our combat teams, specializing in infiltration and the quick, dirty fights that go along with some of the more potent elementalists in the world." Ezra remembered the effortless way Gal had handled him the night before, and suddenly didn't feel so bad about it.

"The other kind of people who come to us are people like you. People who have, at the very least, a solid background in science. Some get fed up with the life of a Legacy and run away to join the Guild of Sundry. Some are disinherited children of Legacy families, usually because they didn't live up to expectations. Some are grunts who have earned black marks for stealing or rediscovering one of the Legacy secrets. Some, like you, are cursed with entirely too much curiosity and stumble across something they shouldn't know. These are the people who make up our research teams. They usually go into relatively stable situations and take a lighter approach to the problem. I'm not going to lie to you here; there is always a considerable amount of risk involved in going outside. Our research teams just tend to mitigate it."

They stopped in front of the door marked 242. The door Ezra had come out of a lifetime ago.

"Ah, here we are. Your team is in this room. They've been out of the action for a few weeks now, after a mission that went bad. They are professionals, and both have been in this game since their teens. They'll take care of you. We need you to fix the wormhole generator that you unlinked from our network, then you will go through with them and rendezvous with the contact."

Ezra gulped. He hadn't expected this so soon. Maybe a few months of training, learning to be a smooth-talking killing machine first. Gal squeezed his arm and gave him a reassuring grin. "You'll do great."

Well, he couldn't exactly back down now. He nodded to Blair and reached out to open the door.

Inside, two young people, maybe a year or two older than Ezra, leaned up against the wall, chatting quietly. Both glanced over at him as he stepped into the room, their conversation stilled. The door slid shut behind him, ushering in complete silence. Suddenly, he didn't feel quite so confident.

"Uh, hi, I'm Ezra Hawkins."

The young woman was his height, maybe a little taller. Short blonde, almost white hair was pulled back into a spiky tail, leaving her high-cheek-boned face free of any dangling strands. She looked him over with eyes the color of the sky on a cold, clear day. Ezra imagined that she would be pretty in a sharp, harsh kind of way. That is, if she wasn't scowling ferociously at him. "We're being held up here because of the little stunt you pulled yesterday," she snapped at him. "Work now, talk later."

The room's other occupant was a stocky, dark-skinned young man. His powerful arms strained against the fabric of his shirt. He rubbed a hand through his very short black hair that complemented his flint black eyes as he gave the girl a reproachful look. "What Sarah meant to say was welcome to the team. Hi, I'm Matthew Matanane, Mat to friends." He shot Ezra an easy smile. "If I may make one suggestion, you look pretty horribly dressed for, well, anything. They let you take that shirt off the press before you put on, or just seal it shut around you?"

Ezra smiled, liking Mat already. "Sealed," he said, loosening the ridiculous button-down shirt and pulling the access panel from the base of the wormhole generator. "But I don't think it goes on any other way." He glanced over the system settings, frowning. Apparently throwing a wormhole to an active port locked that location in as the only acceptable destination. Making a mental note to check his formulas to see if he could allow for a bit more flexibility in the future, Ezra pulled up a private interface and began manually opening the generator up.

"You know, I could get you a twenty percent increase in efficiency with that power grid over how it's set up now." Mat was looking over his shoulder into the inner workings of the machine.

Ezra frowned up at him. "Really?" He checked the part, picking out a small Legacy mark of two L's embossed clearly on the side. "This one's a standard Lan Legacy unit."

Mat shrugged. "I landed here by discovering a more efficient way to route power through their conduits. The Lan family said it was something they'd already come up with and just weren't ready to release it yet. Said I stole it. I got myself a black mark for not backing down, and ended up here."

"Wow, I heard they played rough, but that's pretty bad."

"Bad things happen." It sounded like a mantra. "And yeah, twenty percent, at least."

Ezra grinned and disconnected the power grid, handing it to the big man with a little bow. "Personally, if someone comes up with a better wormhole, and I'd like to meet them. You know, learn about it, find out how they're thinking, maybe come up with something cool of my own."

The girl, Sarah, snorted. "We can't all be the mighty Hawkins family."

Ezra glanced over at her as he rebooted the relay system. "And what's your story? Sarah, right? You have a last name to go with that?"

She gave him a wintry smile. "Hughes."

Ah, now the animosity made sense. The Hughes Legacy had been responsible for the materials used in the creation of the space elevator and much of the space station itself. Super strong, light solids were their specialty, but the space elevator had been their crowning glory. For years they had been the unrivaled masters of building and travel, government contracts for expansion and upkeep lining their pockets and filling their coffers. They were what all of the other Legacy houses aspired to be. That is, until the Hawkins family rendered the space elevator obsolete with faster than light travel. The Hughes family's prestige and profits had plummeted as they were forced to pander their solids to less notable enterprises. They hadn't exactly fallen on hard times, but they had fallen, and everyone knew that Ezra's family was to blame.

"So," Ezra continued carefully as he accepted the upgraded power grid from Mat and put it in place, "Why are you here, Miss Hughes?"

Sarah's eyes darted away and she wrapped her arms around herself. "I don't see any reason to talk about it. I'm here, so are you. We have a job to do, so let's get it done."

Ezra started up the systems diagnostics and was pleased to see that Mat had indeed increased the output of the power grid by twenty three percent without significantly impacting the heat generation of the unit. "Okay," he said, "all set. So, um... what do we do now?"

"First," Mat said, opening up a large container and pulling out what looked like home-spun clothes, "we suit up. Yeah... these should fit you." He tossed a shirt and pants to Ezra along with some lightweight, skintight body armor. He and Sarah began stripping out of their uniforms. Ezra looked around in a mild panic.

"We're all teammates here, Hawkins," the woman smirked at him, "no room for modesty."

Ezra sighed and began changing his clothes as well, eyes fixed on the floor. It's not that he didn't get out. Well, okay, that was what it was, but still, some decency, or at least a little warning, would have been nice.

"We'll be making contact with a local by the name of John Culbert. He makes cider." Sarah's voice carried a hint of amusement that Ezra hoped wasn't aimed at him. "Eight hours ago he placed a white flag alerting us to the presence of a hostile wind-scarred in the area."

"Wind-scarred?" Ezra asked glancing back to find Sarah at least mostly decent, adjusting her shoes. "What does that mean?"

Sarah gave Mat a look, lifting her eyebrows. "Wind-scarred is the name that elementalists who can control the wind have taken in the outside world. All of them, every single one, is covered in elaborate patterns of scars. They wear them like badges of honor."

Ezra's brow furrowed at that. He opened his mouth to speak, "Why–"

"Before you ask," Mat interjected, donning a wide-brimmed hat, "we don't know why they have the scars. It could be some ritual thing. It could be a symbol of status or denote a hierarchy among them. It could have something to do with whatever mutation gives them their powers. What we do know is that the scars themselves are practically invulnerable. You can't break them, you can't cut them. Bullets will bounce off. That is, if the wind-scarred lets the bullet reach him in the first place. Can't really count on projectile weapons against a powerful scarred..." He tossed Ezra a belt with a large knife on it, strapping an honest-to-god sword on his own hip and tucking a pistol into a well-concealed shoulder rig. "But it's best to be prepared for anything, just in case."

"We've never seen a wind-scarred this far north," Sarah chimed in as she checked an assault rifle. "It's a little remote for any wind-scarred we've run into. Not much to steal." She nodded to herself and slung the gun over her shoulder, then deftly strapped a pair of wicked looking knives to her belt for good measure. Ezra swallowed and put on the belt Mat had thrown him.

"The village of Arborlen – that's where we're headed – is generally pretty low key. Last time we went in for a fire-kissed who had been harassing the local women. Slipped him a knockout pill and let him wake up naked in the forest. Apparently they never saw him again after that." Mat grinned as he recounted the tale. "The nearest wormhole is well-hidden and within walking distance of the town. Chances are, we'll just go in, take a look around, and come back out for more help or better equipment." He put a strip of something that changed color to match his skin-tone behind his ear, along his the top of his jawbone and held one out to Ezra. Confused, Ezra followed Mat's example, and suddenly heard Mat's voice saying, "Test, test, one, two, three." A slight movement in Mat's jaw was the only indication he was speaking at all.

"Two way simultaneous communication between all three of us," Mat said out loud, grinning at Ezra's confused look. "We hear what you hear, even if it's sub-vocal."

"But, the neural net..." Ezra began.

"No net out there, newbie." Mat slapped him on the shoulder as he walked past.

Ezra nodded, looking down at his outlandish outfit. Well, he figured, if you're going out, may as well wear something out-landish.

He stepped over to stand with his new teammates next to the generator platform. "Okay then," Sarah said, a wolfish smile on her face, "let's go get the bad guys."

#  Chapter 13

## The Apples of Arborlen

The wormhole opened onto a sparsely wooded hill. Ezra stepped through and looked around in awe. He had never seen trees so large before. A little animal with a bushy tale went scampering up a tree, pausing only to chatter at them in annoyance. It was a squirrel! He had only ever seen pictures of them.

Ezra looked around until he found a small rod painted to look like a twig standing up from the ground. Exploring a little further, he found a second one embedded in a rock, then triangulated to the third nestled in the trunk of an ancient tree.

"Oh wow," he said as Mat came through the wormhole and shut it off behind him. "You guys are actually using the portal rods. My dad proposed these as a light-weight way to set up temporary ports. Sanctuary officials deemed them innovative yet impractical, and we never went into mass production. We just get a few orders a year from..." Ezra blinked at his family's Legacy mark on the rod's tip. "You, I guess."

Mat chuckled as he said, "And oh, how we loathe the little buggers and curse the Hawkins name." He adjusted his sword, eyes sweeping the forest. "Hiding them is a pain, and you feel like an idiot stomping around in some armpit of the world trying to find a good spot to set it up. You can use any of them to call home and get a wormhole out here if you need it, though." Mat scratched his head. "But you probably knew that already."

Ezra nodded. "Access panels two inches from the bottom of each unit, if they're standard design. Press and hold the button for a thirty count, then release. They have a second or two margin of error. You guys put them out here?"

"Welcome to the glorious world of the research team," Sarah murmured, eyes scanning the area around them. "Probably didn't tell you about that when they roped you in, huh? Let's move out, daylight's wasting."

They hiked down the hill and toward an open field. Sarah broke off without a word and began to climb a rocky outcropping that overlooked the clearing. "Always have a spotter, sometimes two," Mat spoke through the communicators as they circled around to enter the clearing from the far side. "Getting surprised out here is never fun."

"Culbert is in the clearing," Sarah's voice came through quietly, "alone, unarmed. Everything is green to engage."

"Making contact," Mat responded, his mouth hardly moving. He loosened his sword in its sheath, casually keeping a hand near the hilt.

Ezra and Mat stepped out into the clearing. Ahead of them an overweight, balding man was wiping his face with a handkerchief while looking nervously around, his back to them. "Mr. Culbert," Mat said in a quiet voice.

The man, John Culbert, literally jumped, letting out a short, startled cry. He turned to look at them and, while visibly shaken, sighed in relief. "Oh, it's you. I mean... of course it's you! Just like the last time, just like you said." He laughed nervously and peered at Ezra. "Where's the other... um, who is this?"

Mat smiled and answered, still keeping his voice quiet and sounding amused. "No names Mr. Culbert. And no questions. You have a problem. We're here to help. Why don't you walk me through what's been going on here."

"What's been... oh, yes, the wind-scarred. Well, um," he cleared his throat, "about two months ago he appeared and demanded food and a place to stay. We had a good harvest of apples this year and had already finished trading with the lowland towns for the supplies we would need for winter. Just like we do every year, you know, for things that we can't produce up here, wheat and–"

"Let's just stick to the problem, Mr. Culbert. Why didn't you call us then?"

Culbert cringed at Mat's question, sharp despite his quiet tone. "Well, you know how it is. That is to say, not you, but someone who... wind-scarred rarely stay in one place for too long, and we had enough food to share. Arn... the wind-scarred that is, he kicked us out of the old lumber mill outside town, but we were done using it for the year, so that was alright, and we never even really had to see him or anything. He demanded food, water. Oh, and apples." Culbert laughed weakly. "Arborlen apples, pride of the region. It was all fine... for awhile, at least."

Mat nodded. "He started demanding more."

"Three days ago. Protection money, he called it. We can live comfortably, you see, but we're not a wealthy village. The amount of money that he wanted... it would beggar us. We refused." Mr. Culbert's face drained of color. "He was... he became angry. He called up the wind, and it was so strong that several children were blown toward him. He grabbed them and told us that with so many people to protect, maybe we should double it. That we should think of the children, that it would be a shame if anything were to happen to them. He walked out of town, back up to the mill, pulling them along with him."

"And you just let him go? No-one tried to stop him?" Ezra asked incredulously.

John Culbert looked at him like he was speaking another language and whispered, "He's a wind-scarred. I mean, I know that you can all do... things." He shuddered. Clearly, the man was more uncomfortable with whatever these 'things' Ezra and Mat could do than with what this elementalist, Arn, was capable of. "But we're just normal people. We can't stand up to a wind-scarred. We just want everything to go back to normal."

"We understand, Mr. Culbert, and we'll do everything in our power to bring this to an expedient resolution." Mat gave Ezra a warning look. "Why don't we take a walk back to the village and you can show us where this Arn is holding your young ones."

"Oh, yes, of course. I mean, thank you, thank you so much. Arborlen thanks you," Culbert gushed as he started away at a brisk pace. Mat and Ezra followed.

"You get all that?" Mat's voice came through to Ezra loud and clear.

"Hostage situation," Sarah responded. "I'm en route to Arborlen now. Maps place the lumber mill about four klicks out, up on a hill."

"What's your take on this?"

"Wind-scarred normally just take what they want. Using hostages suggests that he couldn't stand up to real organized resistance. Also, he's out in the middle of nowhere. Hasn't caused any real physical harm to anyone." Sarah paused as if considering something. "If he were strong enough, he'd be hitting a serious township or small city, maybe go pirate on the sky stream. I advise we engage him directly."

"What's the sky stream?" Ezra managed to say it while hardly moving his mouth.

Mat winced. "Not so loud. I'll explain it later. So, we go in guns blazing? Or maybe a bait and shoot, minimize the hostage risk."

"I like that." Ezra could almost hear Sarah's smile. "And I'm sure that Hawkins will make a marvelous stalking horse."

"Wait, what?" Had they just decided to use him as bait?

"Don't worry Ezra, you'll be fine," Mat tried to reassure him. "This Arn guy sounds pretty small-time. You just walk up, get him outside, then hit the deck. We'll do the heavy lifting." Mat sighed. "We should probably try to pull our shots. Disable him if we can, give the town a little justice on their own, empower them. You know, all that stuff Blair goes on about."

"You guys call him Blair too?" Ezra managed his voice much better this time.

"Village is clear. And as far as we can tell, it's his real name. He just likes to come off as mysterious to the newbies, Hawkins." Ezra blushed a bit at Sarah's wry voice, feeling rather gullible.

They came out of the woods and on to a well-packed dirt road just outside the small town. A quick look around as they walked through showed a handful of homes and a large town hall that backed up to a well-kept orchard. Several women were drawing water from a well in the middle of town, speaking softly while managing the children around them.

A little boy noticed the men approaching and gaped openly at the sword hanging from Mat's side. He broke away from his mother and ran up to them, then, apparently finding Mat a little too frightening, turned to Ezra and asked, "Are you warriors here to bring Elisha home?"

Ezra glanced at Mat, who shrugged. Dropping to one knee so he was eye to eye with the boy, Ezra said, "We are going to do everything we can to bring them back."

The boy nodded and reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny stick. "This is my treasure. A fire-kissed warrior gave it to me and said that I could be like him when I used it." He held it out to Ezra and continued in a somber voice, "I think you might need it more than I do."

Ezra suppressed a smile and gravely took the crude match from the boy, slipping it into a pocket in his pants. "I will carry this with honor."

The boy studied Ezra's face for a moment, then nodded again, as if he found it acceptable. He whirled and ran back to his mother, grabbing her leg and holding on tight, moving to watch them walk by while standing behind her. She reached down and patted his head with a sad little smile, then turned haunted eyes to Mat and Ezra. Mat gave her a broad grin and tipped his hat as they made their way toward the far end of town.

"Pretty lady," Mat murmured thoughtfully. Ezra looked at him in surprise. He shrugged, the smile still resting easily on his face. "Doesn't hurt to admire. Plus, I bet she'll be grateful when we come back." He winked at Ezra.

"Womanizer," came Sarah's amused voice just as they reached the small path leading away from the village.

"We'll bring your people home Mr. Culbert. You can count on it." With a brief nod of his head Mat strode up the trail, Ezra close behind him.

"May the Mother watch you and keep you." Ezra heard John Culbert recite the blessing as they left him at the forest's edge.

#  Chapter 14

## Hand Picked

Mat outlined the plan as they hiked toward the lumber mill. "Okay, this is going to be easy. Sarah is flanking off to the right. She'll stay hidden in the forest until he comes outside. I'll break off just before we get there and get in position on the left. You come straight up the path and yell something to him. Tell him you have the money or something; just get him to come out where we can get a clean shot."

Ezra grimaced as he saw a flaw in this plan. "I thought you said that guns don't work on wind-scarred."

"Well," Mat continued, "they rarely work like you hope they will. Wind elementalists tend to be con men and thieves. They're usually tricky, and most pick up a knack for feeling things moving fast through the air and stopping or deflecting them. That's why you hit the ground the second he gets clear of the building. Best chances are to open fire from both sides; only the strongest of them can manipulate air they can't see very well. If that fails, I'm closing to melee." He patted the sword at his side fondly. "Wouldn't be the first time I've gone toe-to-toe with a wind-scarred. They give up pretty fast once things get up close and personal."

"If it looks like he can handle bullets, I'll close with him too." Sarah's voice came through the communicator. "Two on one in melee is pretty much a death sentence. Especially since most wind-scarred think actual weapons are beneath them, preferring their unbreakable scars and powers when tricks and intimidation don't work."

They walked along in silence for a ways. "One more thing you should know, just in case." Mat gave Ezra a questing look. "When a wind-scarred goes down, he doesn't do it quietly. If we have to take this guy out, make sure that you get well away from him. A few seconds after a wind-scarred dies, they and everything within about ten feet of them gets torn to pieces by a massive explosion of air pressure." His eyes shifted, expression distant. "I once saw a man whose wife and daughter had been murdered by a scarred and his thugs. The guy stabbed the elementalist in the back and just keep stabbing while the thugs tried to pull him off. The only thing left was the knife." Mat looked back to Ezra. "It was in pieces."

"Great, he's a guy with superpowers who blows up when he dies. And I'm going to lure him outside." Ezra gulped and gave Mat a weak smile. "I love this plan."

Mat threw his head back and laughed richly, clapping Ezra on the back and making him stumble forward a few steps.

The top of a building came into view ahead of them. "Looks like this is my exit," Mat said. He gave Ezra a thumbs up. "I'll let you know when I'm in position. Stay loose and hit the ground when we tell you. We'll be back to the pretty ladies in the village in no time." Ezra lost sight of him as he took off at an easy run out into the forest.

Panic began to rise in Ezra's stomach almost as soon as he was alone. He took a few deep breaths and shook his arms and legs, trying to limber up. Okay Ezra, he thought to himself, this is no big deal. Just walk up there and get a person you've never met to come outside so your new friends can shoot him. A madman. A madman who can control the wind. You just get him outside with you. He gulped. No problem.

"In position," came Mat's calm voice.

"In position," echoed Sarah, sounding cold and detached. "Everything is green to engage."

Ezra blew out a long breath. What was it Mat had said? Oh yes. "Making contact." Ezra hoped his voice sounded steadier than he felt.

He walked up the last few meters of the trail, the lumber mill climbing steadily into view. Ezra took another deep breath and stepped out from the tree cover, inching forward into the clearing before the ominous gray building.

"Arn!" he shouted, voice cracking. "I have what you asked for!"

Ezra thought he could make out movement between the cracked shutters on the upstairs window. "Don't move," a voice grated from inside the building.

A minute went by. Then another. Finally, the shape of a man seemed to solidify from the shadows in the gaping lumber mill door. There was a cocky sneer on the wind-scarred's face below beady brown eyes and a heavy brow. His head was covered in a short brush of brown hair, liberally peppered with gray. As he came closer Ezra drew in a swift breath. Every inch of visible skin – from his thug-like face to his big, rough hands – was covered in a network of fine, white scars. They seemed to form patterns, swirling and twisting all over the man. "You ain't from that little dump," he said, looking Ezra over, eyes pausing briefly on the knife strapped to Ezra side.

"Hawkins," Sarah's voice sounded in his ear as he stared with a mixture of horror and fascination at the delicate scars.

Arn's eyes narrowed, and Ezra saw something dangerous glittering in them. A thought of violence from a man who loved it. "Those losers call in a third party or some–"

"Hawkins! Get down!"

Ezra abruptly pulled himself together and dropped to his belly, arms over his head. He heard a rapid woofing as Sarah's rifle unloaded on the scarred man in front of him. Cracks from his left marked Mat, walking calmly toward his target, shooting as he came. It was all executed flawlessly.

The man let out a bark of laughter. Sarah's automatic fire formed into a rapidly expanding cloud, suspended in the air as if she had been shooting into a thick gel. Arn turned to face Mat, whose bullets all suddenly deviated from their course about half a meter in front of the wind-scarred, arching around him to get stuck along with Sarah's shots. One scarred hand came up, beckoning Mat forward.

Throwing aside his pistol, Mat accelerated into a dash over the remaining space, hand moving to his sword, ready to draw. It was apparently not fast enough for Arn. Grasping in front of him, the elementalist pulled his arm back with a shout, as if ripping away a curtain. A torrent of wind whipped past, streaming leaves and sticks into a vortex toward and around the man while scattering the cloud of bullets behind him. Mat was suddenly pulled from his feet and sent flying forward, eyes widening in surprise. He managed to get his sword clear and ready a lunge before Arn raised his right hand, bringing Mat to a complete stop, freezing him in place a foot off the ground. Ezra saw Mat fight in vain to move.

Arn chuckled quietly as he stepped around the sword and patted Mat on the cheek. "Guess you didn't know what you were up against here, kid. You one of Velor's boys? The Besmirched send you, thinking they'd get a little payback?"

"Bite me," Mat managed through clenched teeth, eyes burning with fury.

The wind-scarred gave a little shrug and threw a lightning fast left hook into Mat's face. There was a sound like a small explosion as the ground beneath the point of impact was blown clean of forest detritus in a burst of air. Mat flew through the wall of the lumber mill, six meters away, and kept going, vanishing inside the building. He somehow managed to keep a hold on his sword.

"Ow," Ezra heard Mat groan. "I may need some help, Sarah."

"Incoming," she said, and Ezra saw her dash to the side of the building and dive into a ground floor window to take up a position inside.

The wind-scarred had his back to Ezra, rolling a shoulder as if loosening it up for some manual labor. He walked casually toward the hole he'd just made in the mill. He forgot about me, Ezra realized with sudden clarity. Swallowing hard, he eased the knife from its sheathe at his side and silently rose to his feet, creeping toward the man in front of him. He was just out of reach when the man halted and raised a hand with two fingers up, just visible over his shoulder. Ezra gasped as the air around him solidified, holding him in place.

"Bait," Arn said, turning his head to the side, "is meant to be seen and heard, then devoured or spit back out. Next time, tell those fire-kissed snobs to at least send something pretty." The elementalist gave a dismissive gesture and Ezra was thrown backwards, his knife flying from his hand and out of sight into the surrounding foliage. He slammed into a tree and fell to the ground, stars dancing around the image of the man stepping easily through the hole Mat had left in the mill's wall.

Sounds of a struggle came from inside, punctuated with dull thumps that sent tremors through the air and quiet curses in Ezra's ear. It went on for hours. Or minutes. Or maybe seconds. Ezra shook his head, trying to clear it. Abruptly, the noises inside the mill ceased.

"Hawkins," Sarah's voice was terse. "Hawkins, get out of here. Report back to the Guild and get help. We couldn't–"

The transmission ended with the muted thud of a heavy blow. Ezra was alone.

#  Chapter 15

## Let's Get Dangerous

Ezra climbed unsteadily to his feet. What should he do? Go back for help? He had a sinking feeling that any help he could bring would be far too late for his teammates. He didn't have enough information. The big building sat silent in front of him. There was information in there. They had never actually said not to go inside the building. Mat and Sarah were professionals though, trained for this kind of thing. He'd have no chance in there. On the other hand, they had shown remarkably poor judgment coming up here in the first place. He clearly couldn't trust their decisions at this point without consulting them thoroughly or collecting more data. Fortified by the familiar caress of sound logic, he made his way cautiously and quietly to the hole in the wall and slipped through.

The inside of the mill was a disaster. The floor was torn in places, thick support beams bent and broken everywhere. Sawdust hung heavily in the air and Ezra suppressed a sneeze, squinting his eyes to peer into the gloom. The floor was a mess of scuffed footprints in a thin layer of yet more sawdust, the occasional patch blasted clear by what Ezra could only assume had been more of the wind-scarred's concussive punches, like the one that had thrown Mat through the wall. It looked like this was one elementalist who enjoyed a good brawl.

Creeping through the shadows of the dim room, Ezra heard subdued voices coming from the rear of the building. He eased his way toward them, until he could clearly make out Arn's gravelly rumble.

The boards near the back wall creaked as the wind-scarred paced slowly back and forth over them. "I'm gettin' tired of asking you the same thunderin' question, and you won't like what I come up with when I have to... amuse myself. Who sent you? Was it Velor? Jonus? Who?!" Another heavy punch thumped through the room and Mat let out a grunt as he took it. "Real hard case huh? Professional. I can respect that. I got nothin' 'gainst you personal, kid, but you come up here toting them fancy new Besmirched toys and I get to thinkin that maybe you was..." He trailed off and stopped pacing. "Those were some pretty toys you all had, weren't they? Never seen none like 'em before. Was it... it wasn't... wasn't Val, was it?" Ezra could hear worry creeping into Arn's voice. "Val said leave, and I left, ain't been no-where near Eastpoint since. I'm way out here, deep Beloved territory, just trying to get by, you know." A hint of desperation colored his tone. "I didn't know whose shipment that was, don't care what was in those boxes. Gave em back right and proper, didn't I? Val knows I dun want any more trouble."

"Maybe that's not what Val heard, Arn." Sarah sounded calm and in control, her voice carrying a cold bite. "Maybe Val thinks you should just keep moving. Maybe think before you stop next time."

The floor squeaked and groaned as Arn paced over to Sarah. Ezra chanced a glance around a beam that stretched to the ceiling and saw Mat and Sarah pinned against the back wall by an invisible force, feet inches from the ground. Silence stretched on as the wind-scarred stared into the young woman's eyes.

"No... no, you had me goin' there for a minute." He made an absentminded gesture and Sarah convulsed as if hit in the stomach. "Val wants to deliver a message, she'll come right out here and burn it into me. No, I think I got you both pegged." He laughed to himself. "You can handle yourselves in a fight. Certainly gave me a few nicks to remember, and that's a good sight better than most do." He spun back to face Mat and extended an accusatory finger along with what must have been another invisible blow, from the way Mat's head snapped to the side. "Deserters! Ran off with a few Besmirched trinkets and now you think you're invincible, is that it? Took out a couple nobodies and decided to try for the big time, bump off old Arn the Fist. Maybe get back in good with Val while you're at it, huh? Ha!"

Ezra noticed something gleaming in the wall a few meters from where he was standing. Mat's sword stuck out just above eye level, point buried deep in the wood. Ezra licked his lips and ghosted toward the weapon, fast, light steps carrying him smoothly and silently forward as Arn continued his tirade.

"Maybe I do you one better, eh? Maybe I soften y'all up a bit, drag you back down there and see how Val takes to deserters, what do you think of that? Aw heck, even if you ain't deserters, Val'll be mighty interested in someone else sending heat across the border without her say-so. Why, I bet–"

The wood groaned as the sword came loose. Ezra cringed. Maybe if I just put it back, no-one will notice, he thought to himself. Mat and Sarah's heads jerked up suddenly, and Arn whirled around and snarled, "Who's out there?"

Okay, it's possible that they did notice something, but that doesn't necessarily mean they know that it's me. Lots of things could have made that sound, like rats, or pigeons, or...

"Ezra, run!" shouted Mat. "You can't–"

The wind-scarred made an curt gesture and Mat's voice fell silent. Ezra peered out of the shadows to see Sarah's face, a mask of horror, watching Mat as he gasped for air, dark eyes bulging.

"Shh, you'll scare 'im off," Arn said softly. "That you, bait? You get the idea that maybe you come in here, be the big hero?" The elementalist chuckled. "Why don't you come on out here where I can see ya, we'll have a little talk about that notion, nice and civ'lized like." He began checking behind massive upright beams as he stalked toward the center of the room, stirring up sawdust in his wake.

Clutching the sword, Ezra closed his eyes and tried to think. He could wait for the man to walk past, then stab him from behind. No, he shook his head, remembering how the man had caught him before. Okay, come on Ezra. He's clearly unstable and not anywhere near his right mind, but just as clearly competent and observant. Ezra frowned. That is, except when he's talking about these Besmirched, whoever they were. He said something about burning... fire-kissed, like Blair mentioned, maybe? He shook his head, sawdust floating down from his curly hair. If only there was a way to–

Ezra's head jerked up as inspiration struck. "...said I could be like him." His lips mouthed the words. Shaking fingers reached into his pocket, and he glanced around. He was a little over twenty meters from the door. No, no, it's impossible. But... if I can cut that distance in half, let the man walk a little further forward... No, I don't have the training for this kind of thing. I should run. Maybe if I throw the sword back when he's not–

Mat made a strangled sound. Ezra felt his shoulders square. He looked down at the sword. Ten meters around the wind-scarred, based on what he did to Mat outside. That should do it, he thought grimly. He could do it. Moving softly, staying hidden, Ezra positioned himself to enact his plan.

"I ain't playing with you here boy!" Arn's voice rang out with frustration as he searched the room. "Your friend back there don't have too much longer. Gonna be a mighty disappointin' rescue in a minute now. Don't rightly care if you're Besmirched, I just want–"

"We are not the Besmirched." Ezra's voice was soft, but carried through the empty room as he stepped out in front of the door. The sun hung low in the sky, just above the treetops and directly behind him, shrouding his body and face in shadow, a dark silhouette against its brilliance. Mat's sword gleamed in his right hand, held out to his side, tip dragging against the floor, kicking up a wispy line of sawdust.

Arn blinked, shielding his eyes and stopping where he stood. Sarah turned and stared in horror, mouthing the word 'No' over and over. Mat's eyes fluttered closed, head slumping forward, shoulders jerking up and down in short, uncontrolled spasms. Ezra slowly, deliberately, began to walk forward.

"Now what in the–"

"We aren't something you can comprehend, Arn the Fist. We are those who stand when no-one else will." What else had Blair said? Something about shields and swords... "We are the shield of the helpless. We are the sword of the righteous." Okay, just need to keep it up a little longer, almost close enough now. "We are the world's great equalizer." Three more steps, you can do it Ezra! "We are those who protect." Is he really just listening to all this? "We are those who defend." He's starting to look pretty angry... "We are those who avenge." Oh god oh god oh god oh god. "We are the Guild of Sundry." Say something impressive, quick! "And fools like you should tremble in our passing."

"Good talk, kid," Arn said flatly, reaching out again and pulling the air irresistibly toward him.

Ezra had a moment of weightlessness, lifted from his feet by the wind. He closed his eyes. He tightened his grip on the sword. And he turned his left hand, held cupped at his side, and flicked the lit match into the swirling vortex of sawdust. The world exploded into heat and light as the sawdust ignited. Ezra peeked out one eye to see flames funneling toward the beckoning wind-scarred. He got a moment's glimpse of the abject terror on Arn's face before it vanished in the inferno.

"Blighted fire-kissed lunatic!" Arn screamed from within the blazing whirlwind. A hand appeared, already red and blistered, sweeping out through the wall of flame. Ezra gulped and readied the sword in front of him, holding it out with both hands as he hurtled toward the writhing mass of wind and heat. Suddenly his flight ended. He hit the grounding running, keeping what momentum he could. Fire engulfed the sword's tip. Arn's hand flipped over, palm down, and slammed toward the floor, flattening a circle of sawdust and smothering the flames. He snarled madly, "I'm gonna–"

Ezra felt a sudden, sickening impact run up his arms and into his shoulders. The moment seemed to freeze in crystal clarity. The shocked expression on the wind-scarred's face. The length of gleaming metal extending from the left side of the man's chest, shirt burned away to show where the blade had slipped between the graceful whorls of two delicate scars.

The world came back into motion. Arn's hand reached forward, trembling as it came. "You..." blood bubbled from his mouth. Sarah and Mat fell to the floor at the back of the room, some thirty meters away, with two heavy thuds.

"Ezra, run!" Sarah screamed.

Ezra's eyes widened as the elementalist's hand fell toward the earth. He spun and sprinted for the door.

There was a deafening clap, and a wall of air and sawdust hit him from behind. Ezra saw the top of the doorway blurring toward him, felt a brief impact, then nothing but blackness.

#  Chapter 16

## Celebrate Good Times, Come On

"Hawkins." Stinging pain. "Hawkins!" More stinging pain. "Ezra!"

Ezra managed to shield his face before Sarah could slap him again. He looked around in confusion for a second. Trees. Sarah. A decrepit old lumber mill. And he felt... singed? Everything came back to him in a rush. "Oh," he said, then turned and retched, suddenly glad that Kirsten had kept him from eating. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, mumbling in a dazed voice, "They blow up."

Sarah's concerned eyes softened momentarily, then snapped to anger. "Hawkins! That was the stupidest thing I've ever seen anyone do in my life!"

She hugged him. Hard. Then she turned away very quickly, wiping at her eyes. Mat came out of the building, looking pale but functional, carrying two sobbing little girls who clung to him desperately. A third was being tugged along, hand latched to his belt, sniffling.

He spotted Ezra and gave a roguish grin. "Not bad Ezra!" He called out. "Looks like I still got the girls though!" He started laughing a boisterous laugh which quickly devolved into a hacking cough. Sarah made a disgusted sound and walked over to take one of the children.

Ezra got woozily to his feet, and his head reported that it might be twice its normal size and sloshing with liquid. Also, quite possibly on fire. "Ow," he groaned, closing his eyes and putting a hand on his forehead. He stumbled forward a few steps, and his foot landed oddly on something hard, heavy and round. "Ow," he agreed with his previous statement as he landed back on his rear. Looking around for the offending object, he found the hilt of Mat's sword. Picking it up, he noticed deep, smooth gashes cut into the metal, rendering it practically useless. He hefted it in his hand, thinking to toss it out into the forest, then gave it a thoughtful look and tucked it into his belt.

A cold breeze blew through the forest, stirring leaves as it went. Sarah shivered as she walked up, little girl bundled in her jacket. "Winter's on the way. Getting cold up here," she said quietly. Then she smirked down at Ezra where he sat. "Gonna join us Hawkins, or does one of these kids need to carry you back?"

Ezra looked down his shirt. A few blackened holes marked where fire had found it. He had a feeling his face was an unholy mess. Yeah, he probably looked pathetic enough. Reaching out a hand toward her, he put on a winning smile. Sarah rolled her eyes as pulled him to his feet. A look of concern passed over her face. "You feeling okay?" She put the back of her hand to his head. It was blessedly cool. "Feels like you've got a little fever."

"Huh?" Ezra cracked an eye open. "Aside from what I can only assume is near-fatal head trauma, I feel fine."

"What did you do to my sword?" Mat cried, eyes finding the battered hilt thrust through Ezra's belt. "I leave you alone with it for five minutes... rookies! This is why you don't get nice things."

"No-one said there'd be swords. You're just lucky I knew which end to hold without someone telling me."

"Whiners," Sarah grumbled with a long-suffering smile. "Both of you. And after I did all the clean up alone. Make yourself useful and take one of those kids from Mat or something, Hawkins."

They made their way slowly back to the village, the setting sun before them. The villagers must have seen them coming. Several families ran out, sobbing as they collected their children, bowing and thanking the exhausted team over and over. No-one seemed to question Sarah's sudden appearance and, quite frankly, Ezra couldn't say he blamed them. The little boy from earlier was standing behind his mother, big, serious eyes watching Ezra.

"This," Ezra said, kneeling down carefully, "is for you." He handed over the broken hilt, which the boy accepted with a sense of gravity. "Always remember that any warrior's greatest weapon is his mind."

"Nerd." Sarah's voice came through the communicator, but he had a feeling that she was smiling. Mat was grinning broadly at the boy's mother. It was too much. Ezra threw his head back and laughed, happier than he had ever been.

==

"So there I was, pinned to the wall, dead to rights." Back at the Guild, Mat dramatically recounted the day's deeds to a small gathering in a conference room on the first floor, surrounded by barrels of apples and jugs of apple whiskey, wine and cider. "When out of the shadows walks Ezra!" Mat thrust his half-empty glass of whiskey in Ezra's direction.

"Ezra!" cheered the room, raising their glasses and drinking. Ezra smiled sheepishly. Gal punched him lightly in the shoulder, grinning.

"He starts in on this, like, prepared speech, a monago... molonaug..." Mat squinted his eyes in consternation, stumbling over the word.

"Monologue!" shouted Sarah, erupting into a giggling fit.

"Monologue!" Mat echoed with drunken certainty, pointing to her. "About how foolish the man was. How this was inevitable." He jumped up on the table, posing grandly, "'We are the terror that lurks in your nightmares and makes you wet the bed! You should be trembling! We are the Guild of Sundry, and I am Ezra!'"

"Ezra!" everyone cheered again, throwing back more drinks.

"And the wind-scarred, the wind-scarred, he's all like, 'Noooo' and starts flinging wind around, trying to like, protect himself or something. And what does Ezra do? He brings the sword up," Mat mimed bringing a sword up in front of him, "looks back at the two of us, smiles, and whispers 'Let's get dangerous.' Then he freaking jumps into the wind, my sword in his hand, and starts flying toward the sucker. And then! And then he throws this match at the poor schmuck and BOOM! The whole thing goes up into a thundering fireball!"

Gal scooted over next to Ezra and cuddled up against him, listening. His face heated and he looked down at her, smiling as Mat continued.

"And this thundering scarred, he's just flipping out. He starts screaming–"

"And crying!" yelled Sarah between laughing breaths. "Like a girl!"

"Screaming and crying!" Mat pointed meaningfully back to Sarah again as she pounded her glass on the table. "And he's all like, 'Curse you Ezra!'"

"Ezra!"

"'Curse you and your ridiculously handsome friend for softening me up!'" The room devolved into a fit of laughter. "And my boy here, he literally flies in and..." Mat performed a lunging stab on the table. "Then he grabs the scarred, pulls him close, and looks directly into his eyes." Mat brought up two fingers in front of his eyes to demonstrate. "'Who are you?' the wind-scarred whispers. 'Hawkins' he replies, cool as you like, then he pushes the wind-scarred back and just waits there, right at the edge of the death surge. 'Ezra Hawkins.'"

"Ezra!" The cheer exploded through the room again.

"So we save the day, bring back the kids, and the town throws this freaking party for us. Food and drink and girls galore. It's crazy! And Sarah's over in a corner, drinking five hillbillies under the table, and I've got four girls–"

"At least! Four at least!" Sarah howled amidst bursts of laughter.

"Four at least! And they're all fighting over which one gets to bring me food and sit on my lap and feed me. And Ezra..."

"Ezra!"

"Well, let me tell you, that boy can hold his drink. In fact, if you look carefully, I believe he's still holding the same one!" Ezra blushed again and took a small, polite sip while the room roared with laughter.

The door slid open. A slim, dark skinned young man with tribal tattoos on his face and a buzzed haircut walked in. "Where's this Legacy shyster who thinks he's good enough for our Doe?" he said in mock menace.

Gal rolled her eyes, then quirked a smile, fluttering her eyelashes at the newcomer. "Aw, Sebastian, you know that I'll always have a special place for you in my life. Right next to the punching bag."

Sebastian grinned. "Like you could touch me, teammate."

"I'm sorry, but I need a man who can take on a wind-scarred with nothing but a match and still blush like a virgin when I look at him just right." She threw Ezra a smoldering look. His face turned beet red, and he tried to hold his cup up to cover for it.

The rest of the room erupted in cat calls and laughing jeers. "I'll drink to that!" Sebastian gave Ezra a friendly clap on the shoulder, grabbing an apple and a glass of whiskey as he went by.

"As will I!" Sarah responded loudly. She tipped back her glass then slammed it to the table, empty. Her head immediately followed, and a loud snore prompted a fresh burst of merriment from the crowded room.

An hour or so later the party had died down and everyone began to head out. Mat left carrying Sarah. "Not the first time I've had to sneak her into the Hughes' place dead drunk." He winked at Ezra. "Won't be the last."

As he left, Mr. Blair walked into the room. He nodded to those remaining, who suddenly decided they had more important places to be. A few muttered 'sir's and hasty salutes, and Ezra found himself alone with Gal and Blair.

"Well," Blair said mildly. "Quite the exciting first day on the job."

Ezra grinned as Mr. Blair checked a jug of apple cider and poured himself a glass. Gal grabbed an apple and perched easily on a table, crunching into it. She held out a hand to Blair, smiling mischievously at Ezra.

Mr. Blair sighed and pulled the pair of sunglasses from his pocket, depositing them reluctantly in Gal's waiting hand. "Now we're even, Ezzy." She put on the glasses and continued to chew away at her apple.

"Indeed. I find myself thinking that perhaps I will be betting on you next time, Agent Hawkins. By all accounts, you acquitted yourself admirably in a situation that should have resulted in both your and your teammates' deaths." The man bowed his head. "We are deeply in your debt, young man, and the only thing I can say is thank you. If there is anything I can do, any boon I might grant you, please ask and I will do everything in my power to see it is done."

Gal beamed at him from her perch. Ezra stared at Mr. Blair in stunned silence. He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, then said, "Well, there is one thing."

"Name it."

"I want... I would like to be able to study them. The people outside that is. The elementalists, the wind-scarred and the fire-kissed and all of them. I want to have the chance to try and understand how they get their powers, maybe even why they can control the elements to begin with."

Blair looked at him directly, eyes serious. He nodded, as if considering it. "What you are asking for... I could open up the mission reports to you. Let you read them over, see what conclusions you can come to. It would be a great deal of work, and it would mean a lot to all of us who deal with them. Are you sure that is something you want to take on yourself?"

Ezra considered for a moment, then returned Blair's steady gaze. "I'm sure, sir."

Mr. Blair smiled again and extended his hand toward Ezra. Ezra took it and they shook. Gal made a disgusted noise, whipping off the glasses and throwing them onto the table. "Freaking science Legacy geek. 'Oh, look at me, I'm Ezra Hawkins and I love work and research and not helping sexy girls win bets.' Hope he chokes on the first strucking page." She muttered angrily as she stormed out of the room, turning to glare at Ezra as the door opened. "You're back to owing me, Ezzy!" She whirled and was gone.

Mr. Blair laughed richly as Ezra took another sheepish sip of his cider.

#  Chapter 17

## Furious Foxes

Ezra's alarm went off about two seconds after his head hit the pillow. He jerked awake, looking around in panic, then let out a deep breath. No crazed wind-scarred with blood bubbling from their mouths chasing him through a secret underground base while wearing sunglasses that were entirely too big for them. Good, good. He paused to consider how that had fit in the two seconds he had been in bed for. His time display blinked angrily at him. Ah, eight in the morning. Longer than two seconds, then. He yawned and stretched... then winced, hand flying to his head. Maybe this is a hangover, he thought, trying to be positive. I probably got over that whole getting hit in the head repeatedly thing before we even got back last night. Or this morning. Whenever that was. And besides, after a nightmare like that, today can't help but be–

Kirsten O'Donnell burst into the room.

–terrific, Ezra finished to himself glumly.

"There you are! Where have you been?! I've had DOLT looking for you all night after you conveniently neglected to answer my calls. And then I find you here, holding your head like some kind of drunk the morning after–" Her eyes narrowed, burning with fury. She sniffed the air, then asked coldly, "Ezra, have you been drinking?"

"Uh, I really didn't have anything, maybe just a sip!" His brain was not working at full power here. He needed something good, something slick. "It was the people around me! They were the ones drinking!"

Kirsten closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath, letting it out slowly, her whole body trembling in rage. Her eyes flashed open and she brought up her virtual terminal with a curt gesture. "Miss Crawford called. For whatever reason, she appears to have been amused by your," her jaw worked a few times, "antics. I made arrangements for you to meet with her tomorrow afternoon, not knowing when you would be found last night." She looked back at Ezra, glaring and continuing in a level, frigid voice as she stalked toward him. "I suggest that you consider treating her with the common courtesy due one of your peers." Her hand flew up, one perfectly manicured finger coming to rest pressed against the underside of Ezra's chin, forcing it up. "I will be most..." Her hand shook in what Ezra could only assume was a tightly controlled lust for blood. "...displeased if there is a repeat of yesterday's incident." Her tone indicated that this was the kind of displeasure with teeth. Possibly explosives.

"I-I will do everything in my power to see that she has a-an enjoyable and–" he shut his eyes and gulped, trying to think. What was another word? Come on, brain, start! Start! "Punctual! An enjoyable and punctual time!"

Kirsten's jaw tightened as if she was grinding her teeth. Her eyes flicked back down to the nebulous terminal. Her finger stayed exactly where it was. "I will need your approval to authorize the inspection reports for the damages you caused the night before last. Several of the port stations that were shut down are preparing suits for compensation due to unreasonably enforced downtime. I will handle them, but you may need to give out special dispensations to a select few. Also, several news sources of a certain... disreputable nature have requested interviews with you. I took the liberty of informing them that your schedule was full from now until the end of time." Her fingernail pressed harder into Ezra's chin as she slowly looked back up at him, eyes slits of emerald fire. "If any of them attempt to contact you," she said very quietly. "You will inform them that all appointments must be made through your secretary. Do you understand?"

"Yes Miss O'Donnell. Do you need my approval now?" The documents came up in his net connection, where he glanced them over and approved them quickly.

Kirsten considered the completed contracts, then idly straightened out his shirt. "Will that be all, Mr. Hawkins?" Her tone strongly implied that it would be, and Ezra nodded desperately. She turned to leave and he began to breathe a sigh of relief, stifling it when she stopped and glanced back over her shoulder just before opening the door. "Oh, one more thing," she added, almost as an afterthought. "Please invite that friend of yours, Miss..." Kirsten's eyes tilted upwards, as if trying to bring a name to mind, "Galois Doe, to dinner tonight." A sharp, cruel smile flirted with her lips. "I am looking forward to getting to know her better." Without another word, she turned and left.

Ezra collapsed back onto his bed. Yesterday, he thought weakly, you got in your first fight. Against a superhuman. Who had already taken out two agents specially trained to deal with him. Alone, with nothing but a match and a sword. A village celebrated you. You were the star of a night of drunken revelry. Kirsten has no business being that scary, and you know it, so pull yourself together. He looked longingly at his pillow, wondering if he could find that nightmare again.

After a long shower, which he came out of still feeling crushed under the weight of the world, but clean at least, Ezra headed down to his lab to catch up on some work. His glider lay just off the generator platform, and he smiled at it wryly. "You just got me in all kinds of trouble, didn't you?" He picked it up and put it away, then got to work on re-balancing his equations for remote wormholes to account for the problems he had become aware of what felt like a lifetime ago. He was working on reconciling an especially difficult set of what seemed to be mutually exclusive theorems when his console alerted him to an incoming call... from Kirsten. He gritted his teeth and answered, voice only.

"Yes Miss O'Donnell?"

"Mr. Hawkins," her voice was calm, cool and collected. There must be someone else listening in, Ezra thought exuberantly. "Please come to the showing room, you have a visitor." The call went dead.

Ezra blinked a few times, puzzled. As he walked out the door and made his way slowly through the house he wondered, what kind of a visitor would Kirsten allow him to have today? Certainly not anyone good. He mulled it over in his head. It must be someone important, or at least, important to Kirsten. DOLT, maybe, investigating him after what happened on Founder's Day? Jeffries! He had said that he was getting a warrant! Kirsten had probably promised to get Ezra out there so she could tie and gag him while Jeffries trumped up imaginary crimes for him to commit! That was why she had needed his signature earlier! Oh, why hadn't he thought it through more carefully? He was probably going to spend the rest of his life rotting away in a holding cell, the failure who let the mighty Hawkins Legacy fall.

He paused for a moment, distracted from his misery. Let the Legacy fall? Kirsten was a lot of things, and most of them were loyal to what she considered the rightful place of a Legacy house. She wouldn't let Jeffries or anyone else tear it down without a fight. No, no it wouldn't be him, but who else would want to see him and actually convince Kirsten that they were respectable enough...

Ezra came down the grand staircase, wondering if he still had time to run. He was just about to turn for the front door leading to freedom and life when he heard a loud, bluff voice coming from the showing room.

"You know, I can show you a little something that can help with tense muscles. Women always tell me I've got magic fingers. Or a stretch! You just bend like this..."

Ezra grinned and opened the showing room door. Mat stood leering happily at Kirsten O'Donnell while demonstrating a stretch that would have been very... effective if someone like Kirsten were to try it. At least, from the perspective of every male in the room. Kirsten was busily working with her nebulous schedule, her manner somehow too calm and composed, studiously ignoring everything.

Mat spotted Ezra as he walked in the room. "Hey Ezra! You all ready to go? I've got a mat reserved at the gym for the next three hours." He hefted a pack that contained several workout towels and a change of clothes. Two wooden swords of the same style as the one Ezra had used yesterday were strapped to the outside.

"The gym?" Ezra blinked. How much had he drunk last night? Had he really said they were going to the gym?

"Yeah, remember, you asked me to show you around one of these things after you were so dazzled by my awesome display at that thing yesterday." He winked at Ezra, performing his mock salute from the night before.

Ezra glanced at Kirsten. Why hadn't she shot this down? "Well, I guess that I could go for a little while, stretch my muscles and–"

"Yes, good," Kirsten interrupted him. "I'll see you back here for dinner." She abruptly walked to the door and turned the corner, practically fleeing out of sight, vanishing deeper into the house. Ezra goggled at her hasty retreat.

"You can come and watch if you want! I could even help you work on your form!" Mat called after the redhead. "Not that it needs any work!" There was no response. He sighed, lifting his pack and slinging his other arm around Ezra's shoulders. "Why didn't you tell me your secretary was such a fox? Not right leaving me hanging out in the wind like that. What if you had answered the door instead of her, huh? I still wouldn't know! I can't believe it, I thought we were pals, man." He went on, shaking his head and lamenting how there wouldn't be any pretty girls watching them today.

Ezra yelped as Gal practically tackled him the moment they cleared the door. "So, gonna learn some real self-defense huh? Flying around and lighting people on fire just isn't good enough anymore, is that it?" She smiled winsomely up at him then pulled him down in a hard and sudden kiss.

He grinned back at her dumbly for a few seconds while she laughed in delight, then his brow furrowed. "Why do you keep doing that? Kissing someone you barely know?"

Gal gave him an appraising look. "Maybe I think that I know enough." She toyed absently with his hair. "You're clever and brave, an innocent idealist who makes things happen." She pressed her lips hotly to his in a longer, more luxurious kiss. "Plus," she whispered breathlessly when they parted, "you're just so cute."

"Gag," Mat rolled his eyes. "His house is right there, Doe, just pull him inside and get it over with."

Ezra blushed, then glanced at Mat, confused. "I thought you said that there wouldn't be any pretty girls..."

Mat gave a negative gesture. "Nah, man, Doe's like practically one of the guys, especially at the gym."

"Oh Mat, you charmer." Gal fluttered her eyelashes up at him as she grabbed her own bag. "Just wait until I get you alone." Her hands made playful jabbing motions Mat's direction.

Mat and Gal continued verbally sparring as they made their way toward the University gym, Ezra taking collateral damage on the sidelines. As the last of the Legacy houses slipped past, they were interrupted by the sound of running steps followed by a breathless, "Oh, hello Mr. Hawkins. I hadn't thought to see you until tomorrow afternoon, what with your work and all. And Miss Doe! It really is a pleasure to see you again as well."

Liza Crawford, face slightly flushed as if she had just been running, smiled happily down at the three Guild mates. Mat swept in front of Gal and Ezra, bowing gallantly to the rather flustered woman. "Ezra," he said reproachfully, "you must introduce me to your friend. Or were you planning on keeping all the girls to yourself?"

"Oh my." Liza looked to be on the verge of a proper swoon as Mat smoothly took her hand and placed on kiss on its back.

"Matthew Matanane, at your service my lady. And may I just say that you look stunning in that sun dress."

"Oh, well, really, there's no need, I mean, it was just such a nice day and I thought that I would take a walk when I saw, that is to say, when the three of you were..." she gestured vaguely in their direction, blushing furiously. Mat grinned broadly at her.

Gal rolled her eyes and cut between them, linking her arm with Liza's. "They were just on their way to the gym." She said as if implying that Ezra and Mat would be missing out on far more interesting places, specifically wherever she was going to be.

"Oh," Liza noticed the practice swords strapped to Mat's bag. "Were you going to be practicing with those? How exciting! Would you mind terribly, that is, if it's all right... and of course you can say no, I understand completely–"

Mat's grin broadened on his face. "Of course! I'd be happy to teach you! Any time you want, wherever you want, I'll-"

"Oh no, I couldn't. I really just wanted to watch. It all seems so exciting, but really, it isn't a very ladylike at all–" She gasped, hand flying to her mouth, looking at Gal's gym bag in horror. "But that isn't to say... not that you aren't... oh please Miss Doe, I beg your forgiveness, I meant no offense." Her eyes began to brim with tears.

"Well," Gal said, lifting her chin and gave Liza a stern look, fighting to hold down a smile. "There is really only one thing I could accept as an apology for something like that."

"Oh anything!" Liza said, looking desperately down at the smaller woman.

The smile slowly won out over Gal's face. "You shall just have to come along with us. In fact, I insist upon training you myself."

Liza's eyes flared with excitement. "Oh, you would really... um, I mean..." She composed herself, but couldn't keep from smiling, "I suppose that if there is no other way..."

"And there isn't!" Gal interjected.

"Then I have no choice but to put the honor of my family first and accept."

"Good. It will be nice to spend time with someone else who has a little class, for a change." The two women started off walking arm in arm, Gal's tiny physique almost comical next to Liza's towering frame. Gal flung a hand in the air and made a curt, beckoning gesture. "Come along boys," she called back to Mat and Ezra, then leaned over toward Liza and, in a stage whisper, commented, "You really have to keep them focused, you know. They have such short attention spans."

Glancing over her shoulder with a small smile, Liza whispered back, "I believe they may have heard that."

Gal sniffed. "And one can only hope they will learn, dear, despite themselves."

Mat snorted and nudged Ezra forward, Gal keeping up a constant commentary on the many dreadful shortcomings of men all the way to the gym.

Nearly three hours later, Ezra collapsed to the floor in exhaustion. Technically, he thought to himself, you were exhausted quite a while ago, and just haven't had time to think about it until now.

Mat had worked him hard to learn the basic forms, drilled him in swinging the weighted practice sword over and over until his arms felt like lead. "Got to teach your muscles how to move," Mat said with a laugh, nudging Ezra with a foot. "So they can move even when you don't think!"

"Which has never been a problem for Mat." Gal and Liza joined them, having just showered off after an extensive lesson on learning to throw a person and be thrown.

"Oh, that was fun." Liza beamed at them all. "We simply must do this again. Perhaps tomorrow! And then we can all have a nice dinner afterward! We can arrange to meet at..." She glanced at the time and gasped. "Oh my! I've been gone a terribly long time; you really must excuse me, it was a pleasure seeing you both again, Mr. Hawkins, Miss Doe, and it really was just so nice to meet you Mr. Matanane, but I am afraid I must take my leave." Curtsying, she backed her way to the door, tripping over several amused people, all of whom she apologized to profusely.

"That's an odd one." Mat scratched his chin as he watched her progress.

"Arg, dinner. I forgot," Ezra groaned from the floor, "Gal, I'm supposed to invite you to dinner tonight, but it's a trap. Kirsten is going to grill you alive and serve me as dessert, with a side dish of unimaginable agony."

"Is she now?" Gal's eyes sparkled with defiance.

"Kirsten? Is that your secretary?" Mat leaned over, looking interested. "She say anything about me?"

Ezra spread a hand over his eyes, rubbing at his temples. "She didn't know you existed yet, Mat."

"Well now, that explains why I wasn't invited," Mat said, sounding reasonable. "So!" He clapped his hands and rubbed them together. "What are we having?"

#  Chapter 18

## JaM Productions

The dinner was... probably not what Kirsten had planned. Mat spent the whole night with a lecherous grin on his face, exclaiming loudly about how good everything was and "Oh, Kirstin, you should try a bite of this! Say ahhh..." Kirsten looked mortified. Gal grumbled about being upstaged.

Ezra fought not to laugh as he bid his friends a good night, Mat calling over his shoulder that he'd be back tomorrow for another round at the gym and, if anyone else wanted to go, he could bring along an extra set of workout equipment. Kirsten's voice cracked as she yelled "Good night, Mister Matanane!" from the top of the stairs. Mat shrugged as he turned away from the door, and Gal gave Ezra a thorough kiss goodnight, whispering in his ear, "I was looking forward to having you for dessert tonight. Maybe next time." Her smile promised things that made Ezra flush from head to toe.

Ezra wandered back to his room in a happy daze, ready to sleep like the dead, when he noticed a letter and a small, flat package sitting neatly in the center of his bed. Curious, he picked it up and saw the words Ezra – For a Job Well Done scrawled on the front, signed with the letter B. Hands trembling, he opened it and found a single translucent, flexible sheet inside: a data sheet, a sort of lightweight, read-only file storage device, usually encrypted for a specific person with a thumb-print.

He pressed his thumb to the access circle in the lower right-hand corner and a list sprung to life on the screen. Looking closely, Ezra saw that each entry was nothing but a date and time. He accessed the first entry, dated nearly five hundred years ago, and the screen flashed briefly. Ah, a retinal scan for each entry, Ezra thought wryly. Someone does not want this information leaking out.

A brief description of a Guild team's mission followed. A few seconds later, the screen flashed lightly again. Some kind of refresh issue? Ezra wondered, lifting and turning the sheet to look at the other side. Another light flash, and the sheet turned off. Oh, periodic retinal scans. Someone really does not want this information leaking out.

Ezra re-accessed the document and poured over its contents; a concise summary of a mission to some large burned out area, some fact-finding from the local people... Ezra's eyebrows lifted. This was the first mission, when the fire-kissed had burned out nearly a quarter of a continent in a war. There were pictures of endless, flat stretches of blackened earth. Ezra shuddered as he read the captions associated with each. Caracas. Mexico City. New Houston. Everything had been burned to ash.

Ezra left the chilling mission report and scrolled to the end of list, to an entry dated just the day before. He smiled as he read it. Sarah really had made him out to be a hero.

He glanced around and frowned; no secure hiding places seemed readily available. Under the pillow for tonight, he thought, down to the lab in the morning. Satisfied with his decision and exhausted from a long, full day, Ezra fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

==

Ezra woke up a few minutes before his alarm the next morning and groaned as various parts of his body competed for the honor of having the very best and most painful cramp. He stretched, accidentally nudging the data sheet out from its hiding place. That's right! he thought excitedly. Grabbing the sheet, he devoured the next mission: something about a wind-scarred looting near the devastation of the fire-kissed war. Arms, legs, and back still hideously sore from his training the day before, he smuggled the mission reports down to his lab and locked them away with his other research material. Real work during the day, he thought while trying to stretch his shoulders, mission research at night.

Nodding to himself, Ezra sat down at his console and stared at the two theorems he had been bashing his head against. He sighed and got back to work.

Sometime around noon, Ezra decided to embark on a kitchen raid. Leftovers from the night before served as a hearty meal, and he was just about to head back to the lab without anyone the wiser when he heard the house politely announce someone at the front door. Ezra looked around, shrugged, and headed for the door to see who it was. He came out of the kitchen in time to see Kirsten walking briskly to answer, muttering to herself, "Probably that insufferable man again... but this time I'll tell him off, just wait and see."

Ezra raced forward, hoping to spare his friend whatever tongue lashing Kirsten had in mind, and was surprised to hear not Mat at the door, but Gal's teammate, Sebastian. "Good afternoon, Miss O'Donnell. My name is Sebastian Walker with the Jadson and Monroe Products company and this is Miss Sarah Hughes. If we could just have a moment of your time, we've come to finalize the contracts that we drew up with Mr. Hawkins two nights ago."

"The Hughes family is very much looking forward to working with Mr. Hawkins and putting a rest to the rumors about our families' supposed rivalry." Ezra peeked over Kirsten's shoulder and saw Sarah, wearing a business suit, beaming at the woman in front of her. Sebastian had concealed the tattoo on his face, donned a fashionable set of spectacles, and was offering Kirsten what looked like a small card.

"JaM Products? I don't believe I've heard of you," Kirsten said skeptically, reading the card.

Sebastian was smooth with his reply. "We're a high end subcontractor for the Department of Ordinances and Lawful Temerity, focusing on third party technology to meet transportation needs."

"Ah, I see, and how is it that you know Mr. Hawkins?" Ezra tried to signal to them from behind Kirsten, waving his hand frantically and hoping to get some idea of what was going on. They both ignored him.

"We had the pleasure of making Mr. Hawkins' acquaintance by way of a mutual friend, a Miss Galois Doe, over dinner the night before last. Our organization was very impressed with the technology that Mr. Hawkins demonstrated on Founder's Day and have been brainstorming some practical applications of his work for the good of society ever since."

"Ezra's work." Miss O'Donnell stated flatly. "On Founder's Day."

Ezra stopped jumping up and down and bristled slightly. So he had gotten in a little trouble, but was it really that surprising that someone would be impressed with his remote wormhole generator? It was, in his unbiased opinion, pretty much the future of all wormhole travel, possibly all travel, period.

"Of course!" chimed in Sarah. "He did things with wormholes that we thought were decades away!"

"Excuse me, Miss Hughes." Kirsten managed to speak down to the taller woman, somehow maintaining the necessary amount of civility while simultaneously making it clear that she would gladly throw her off a building. "You are, if I recall, a non-inheriting older sibling in your family. That being the case, I just can't seem to place why you're here."

Ezra saw Sarah swallow down a flash of anger, her face a mask of calm. "I serve as my family's liaison in many legal matters, such as prospective contracts. The Hughes family has volunteered to work with Mr. Hawkins, providing all of the necessary raw materials for his project as a show of support. We can't let things like family history get in the way progress, after all."

"Ah, yes, I see." Kirsten looked down to check her data display. "I'm afraid that Mr. Hawkins is booked for the rest of the week. I can see about arranging to squeeze you in with the family's legal consultants some time after..."

Sarah glanced over Kirsten's shoulder, then waved to Ezra. "Ezra! Remember me? Sarah, from the club the other night with Gal?"

Kirsten slowly turned and fixed her emerald eyes on Ezra. He stood there, too shocked to think, half-eaten plate of food still in his hands.

"Ah, Mr. Hawkins, good. If I could just have you sign this document here..." Sebastian began to push past Kirsten.

"Don't sign anything, Ezra!" Kirsten snarled whipping her head around moving to physically block Sebastian.

"But," Sebastian put on a confused tone, "we're already just about set to move into production on our new facility. There's a sizable amount of money in it for the Hawkins estate, not to mention the good publicity of helping with a Department of Ordinances contract, of course..."

Kirsten glanced down at the contract that Sebastian had pulled up, then did a double take and quickly began scanning the rest of the document. Sebastian smiled wryly. "Mr. Hawkins drove a hard bargain, said that we would need to cover the damages that the Conservatorium suffered during testing, as well as any costs accrued by various port stations around the city that had may have malfunctioned due to some unforeseen side effects, in addition to a hefty fee for the use of his new tech. It took some doing to get a blanket pardon statement from the Chancellor as well, but we just had to have it. We even toasted it afterward."

"Ezra," Kirsten said in a quiet voice, looking up slowly, cautiously from the document. "Is this what you were doing two nights ago?"

Ezra's brain leapt into a flurry of activity. Kirsten could smell a lie about a mile away. He needed to spin the truth here, set it up just right. "I went with Gal," he began tentatively, "to meet up with them. After some..." Hunting. Planning. Fighting. Um, um... "...negotiations with a..." Criminal! Kidnapper! Super powered lunatic! "...different client, who had some rather..." Violent! No, uh, sadistic! "...interesting opinions of what would be acceptable, we drafted up a really..." Explosive, or maybe, hot. Scorching! Interesting! No, already used that. "...good plan of action. You could call it a..." Ninja strike! Flying ninja strike! Freaking awesome flying ninja flame strike! "...slash and burn, operation. Then, afterward, we met up for a..." Night of drunken revelry! No, wait, don't say that. "...celebratory drink."

"Hey Ezra," Mat's voice sounded from down the walkway. "I found Doe and Liza already on their way over here and – Why hello Kirsten! You're looking especially lovely today! I can just send these kids on ahead if you'd like to–"

Kirsten cast a panicked look over her shoulder. She gave Ezra a brittle smile. "Ezra, I believe you have a prior engagement today and I won't keep you up from that." Then, quickly turning to Sarah and Sebastian she continued, "We can look this over back in the study. If you'll just follow me please?" Sebastian gave Ezra a lopsided grin and Sarah rolled her eyes behind Kirsten's rapidly fleeing back as they walked past.

"Aw, she was just here a second ago!" Mat grumbled as he reached the door.

"Hi Ezzy! Oh, and you better watch out Mat, I hear Seb works fast." Gal slipped gallons on implication into the last two words.

"Oh, you mean that gentleman at the door? Yes, he did seem like quite an efficient young man," Liza commented, nodding her head as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Gal snickered.

Mat gave the house's interior a concerned look. "Maybe she didn't hear me. I could just go back and check on them, maybe catch up with guys later..." He absently started pushing the gym bag toward Ezra, forcing him to juggle his half-eaten lunch.

Ezra chuckled. "Well, I have it on good authority that she really likes a man who sticks to his commitments."

Mat stopped and perked up at this. "Really? Well then, time's wasting. Guess I'll just have to make sure you're too sore to stand tomorrow, then maybe Miss O'Donnell and I can spend a little quality time together." He gave Ezra a playful clap on the back that nearly sent him sprawling. The four headed off joking and laughing.

And so went the next few weeks. Gal occasionally vanished on missions, but none came through for Ezra's team. Things fell into a rhythm for Ezra. Mornings were spent delving into wormhole theory or upgrading the Guild's systems, under the cover provided by his contract with JaM Products. Afternoon saw him at the gym learning how to manage himself in a fight or, when Liza couldn't make it, training at the Guild gym with firearms or other modern weapons. Evenings found Ezra with the mission reports, building up his knowledge and looking for patterns in the data.

Years and years worth of missions were represented, startlingly more after the advent of wormhole travel. Through the accumulated knowledge in his data sheet, Ezra was able to glean information about the elementalists in the outside world.

Wind-scarred: masters of the air. Many were capable of slowing or even freezing air molecules in place, creating walls of force or invisible restraints. Some could call down tornadoes, or fly freely on the wind. Distinguishable by the patterns of fine scars that covered their bodies, their ranks seemed to be almost universally composed of criminals. Con men and thieves, mercenaries and even pirates; nearly all of them had a history of violence and a complete disregard for people and property. According to the data other teams had collected, many were well known miscreants even before their powers manifested. The fact that they exploded on death, an event dubbed the 'surge', was well documented. The vast majority of missions dealt with a wind-scarred in some capacity, be it stopping a rampage or rescuing stolen goods or people.

Thunder-struck: zealots who brought forth lightning from the skies and their fingertips. They appeared to have a halo of ambient electricity surrounding their heads. Amongst themselves and anywhere within earshot, they were the Children of Lightning, spiritual leaders in what passed for organized religion in the outside world. Ezra was unable to find a single reference to any thunder-struck that was not a part of this religious organization. Looking through the mission reports, however, he concluded that that might be due to their aggressive recruitment techniques. Many areas had fallen off the radar entirely as they were swallowed up in the mass conversions initiated by the thunder-struck; the events for which the Guild was called in showed them for what they were: fanatic lunatics. Report after report detailed thunder-struck literally smiting those who refused to convert, declaring it the will of the heavens. There was a reason that the words 'thunder' and 'struck' had become profanity in the world outside: having one of these elementalists visit rarely went well for anyone. Their own 'death spark', a sudden release of unimaginable amounts of electricity, was well documented and cautioned against. Just over a third of the mission reports detailed overzealous thunder-struck campaigns.

Fire-kissed: those who could call forth fire to do their bidding. They had amazingly high body temperatures and actually exhaled small flames or smoke, particularly noticeable when they became excited or agitated. Many were politicians or local community leaders. In fact, they all seemed to be part of some kind of centralized governmental body and all were notable for their passionate belief in whatever it was they were involved with. Few fire-kissed were actually killed; most were just frightened or humiliated in some way, but they too released a tremendous amount of energy when they died in a flare of sorts. Guild teams really only encountered the corrupt in their ranks, the ones who had turned their power against the people they were supposed to protect. Fire-kissed problems were typically few and far between.

Water-seers: the mysterious men and women who had absolute mastery over water. They could be recognized by their eyes, which were solid blue, without pupils or whites. Ezra had a hard time placing just who they were, as only a handful of missions actually dealt with them. He couldn't find anything specific about any organization they belonged to, but all of them appeared to be adept at two things: Healing and killing. In fact, nearly every mission dealing with a water-seer was aborted upon investigation when agents discovered that the seer in question had been paid for services rendered, though the payment always seemed a little steep. A man selling himself into slavery to repay a water-seer assassin. A woman forced to give up everything she owned to have her son cured of an unknown affliction. Ezra shook his head at the few scattered descriptions. Only one mission resulted in a presumed fatality for the water-seer involved, and the agents were unable to verify the kill.

Earth-crowned: the enigmatic persons for whom the earth moved. It appeared as though they each had a jagged stone embedded in their foreheads, sometimes with smaller stones and gems floating in a loose crown behind it. There was no uniformity to the stones, they just appeared... random. Ezra deduced that they were the supreme judicial system in the outside world. None of them stayed still for long. Traveling from town to town, they mediated disputes and dispensed what they considered justice. Most were actually... reasonable. In fact, Ezra was unable to find a single case in which the Guild agents initiated an offensive action against an earth-crowned. The only time one was actually brought to serious combat the team was demolished, with the only a single member barely making it back to file the report.

Only a small number of the reports looked into the history of the elementalists they were sent to deal with. However, from those, Ezra learned something important. Between the eleven year old boy who who manifested as a wind-scarred and liked to sink boats coming in to harbor, and an eighty three year old woman who manifested as a fire-kissed and siphoned funds from tax revenue to pay for her grandson's wedding, there was no set age at which powers developed. There did not seem to be any obvious external stimuli for the manifestations either; it could be that most of them just woke up with magical powers one day. Ezra did notice one thing though: the people who would know the most about how these powers came to be, the elementalists themselves, were never spoken to. They were the ones Ezra needed to question.

During one of his late night study sessions, while intently focused on a particularly detailed report, Ezra was suddenly shocked out of his concentration by a light tap on his back.

"Ezra?" Kirsten's voice was quiet, tentative. Ezra whirled around, shoving the data sheet out of sight, trying to get his heart rate under control. How long had she been standing there? Had she been reading over his shoulder? He could say it was a... science fiction novel! A novel about... about... He paused. Kirsten was biting her lower lip. In fact, she looked... pained, or maybe unsure of herself.

"Ezra, I've been doing some research and..." Kirsten took a deep breath, as if bracing herself. "And there's something I think you should know." Ezra glanced at the data view she had displayed. There was a Guild of Sundry logo on the screen amongst her notes. He felt the blood drain out of his face as his eyes crept back up to hers in horror.

"Ezra, I don't know how to tell you this, but I think... I think that you might be involved in a conspiracy." Kirsten's intensely intelligent green eyes locked onto his. "With the Guild of Sundry."

#  Chapter 19

## Circles Within Circles

"My first clue was the Hughes family, specifically, Sarah Hughes." Ezra's brain tried to process what was going on. Sarah had given it away?

"By all accounts, she was an apt student, and, while not brilliant, more than capable of inheriting the Hughes family Legacy. I looked into the details of her disinheritance, and, with some digging..." Kirsten took another deep breath, then blurted out, "I found that she had shared Legacy secrets with a grunt."

"Oh?" Ezra said, voice cracking. He was still at a loss at how this had led her to the Guild.

Miss O'Donnell nodded, warming to her subject. "I was able to find the Department of Ordinances report on the occurrence and uncover the identity of the grunt with whom she shared her family's secrets: a Mr. Robert Ralson, one of the assistants at their lab." A holographic display of a young man with a rough looking face and well trimmed red hair jumped to life from one of Kirsten's terminals.

Ezra had never seen the man before, but he nodded, as if he had some idea what she was talking about.

Kirsten moved the image off to a corner of the display. "He seems to have inexplicably vanished some time in the last few months. I was, however, able to find this picture of a slightly older Mr. Ralson at the University Plaza just before the event known as the University Statue Caper." It certainly looked like the same man, even though his face was partially obscured and his hair was longer and pulled back into a tail, but what was this leading to? Ezra's gaze followed to where Kirsten's finger was pointing to a person in the background and... oh god. "Ah, I see you recognized him too. It actually took me a good deal longer, he appears to have lost some weight since then."

In the background of the picture was Sebastian, distinctive tattoos clearly visible. "At first the tattoo threw me off, but I replayed the recording of our meeting in the study. I had the foresight to increase the room's temperature, trying to make them uncomfortable to give us an advantage in negotiations." Kirsten played the recording, speeding it up to a certain point, where Sebastian wiped his face. "There!" She froze the frame and magnified it. Just as his hand passed over his face, the hologram that was hiding his tattoo vanished, reappearing an instant later... but an instant that was caught by the house's surveillance. "I was able to map out the tattoo and it matches the one on this man's face." She returned to the image of Sebastian.

"That's, um... I-I'm, impressed."

Kirsten flashed him a dazzling smile and continued. "Using that as a starting point, I searched for any images or video feeds from Guild of Sundry events over the last few years." More pictures of Sebastian in various states of disguise flashed by, intermingled with those of this mysterious Ralson person. The images finally came to a stop on a still frame of a small, brightly smiling girl in pink panties stepping off a shuttle on what must have been the Day of Pants-less Shuttles. It was Gal.

"I know you may not want to hear this..." Kirsten began.

"Th-that could have been, I mean," Ezra swallowed, trying to think of something, anything. "A lot of people joined in on that event by the end of the day. She was probably just using the shuttles and thought it looked like fun!"

Kirsten shook her head slowly then returned her eyes, brimming with compassion, back to him. "That was my first thought too. But the time stamp on the image places it within two minutes of the generally agreed upon beginning of the event." She took a step toward him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I know this might be hard for you to hear right now, but I think I know what's going on."

Ezra looked back at her, stricken. This was all his fault. He should have seen this coming. Kirsten always saw through everything. Secret colony of pet tarantulas? Exterminated. Artificially induced stomach flu? Never had a chance. Wormhole hopping to hide from a first date with Mitzi Parnasus? Caught before his second jump. He should have told the Guild that they would need to kill him, because Kirsten always found out everything.

"I believe that Miss Doe, if that's even her name, is an agent for the Guild of Sundry." Oh god. "I believe she was sent to pick you up, most probably through a quick and hard seduction, to make you more compliant." Kirsten saw through it all. "And I believe that the ultimate goal in all of this is..." Here it comes; put on a brave face, Ezra. "...the defamation and humiliation of the Hawkins family."

What?

"It was all very simple, once I put the pieces together. They set you up to take the blame for several incidents on Founder's Day in order to establish you as irresponsible and reckless. You probably helped them with this more than was absolutely necessary, but I am willing to admit that you may not have been completely at fault. Miss Doe insinuates herself into your life, introducing you to several other members of the Guild along with Sarah Hughes. They make you an offer that seems too good to be true with the ultimate goal of stealing the Hawkins Legacy of wormhole technology or, at the very least, moving it into the public's hands by showing the last surviving heir to the family to be unfit." Kirsten nodded, eyes closed, as she paced back and forth.

"I, uh..."

"It all makes sense, Ezra, if you just take the time to think about it." Kirsten began ticking off points on her fingers. "You'll be too distracted by Miss Doe to take necessary precautions. In fact, they may even be attempting to have you get a child with her or Miss Hughes, so that when you are declared unfit the entire Legacy falls into their hands." Ezra blinked. Kirsten actually thought about that as a logical possibility? "They have you build them wormhole generators that they can then use to cause mass havoc, then neatly lay the blame on you. Mr. Matanane was probably meant as a distraction for me, trying to cover their sloppy back trail, but," Kirsten smiled ruefully, "they made a miscalculation there."

"They... wha?" Ezra hadn't quite worked his way up to coherence yet, but he was getting there.

Kirsten gave him a level look. "He's not my type." Then, continuing to pace, "I have to admit, it was a rather well prepared scheme. I'm impressed that the Hughes family would go so far as to even dis-inherit their own daughter to set this up... but at the same time, it's nice to be pitted against worthy opponents." A feral grin flashed over Kirsten's features. "I was, however, able to win us a little leeway that I think we can work with, so long as you do exactly as I say. While the contract detailed how long the project was to last in total, it did not specify any rate at which it would be completed. Nor did they impose any contingencies when I insisted that the Hawkins family be awarded the money at set intervals, to defray costs." She stopped pacing in front of Ezra, reaching out and grasping both of his arms, staring directly into his eyes. "Ezra, I need you to drag your feet on this. Waste as much time as possible while we collect from the Hughes family and this dummy corporation they've created. I'll work out something, I promise. We'll get through this." She gave his arms a squeeze, a hopeful little smile on her face.

She's actually having fun, Ezra thought dazedly.

"Ezra? I'm also going to need you to behave as if you don't know about any of this. I know that it will be difficult for you, that you may think you have some feelings for the girl, or feel betrayed by her... but I'll help you in every way I can." She peered up at him, eyes bright and concerned. "Do you think you can do that? I need to know how you feel about all of this."

"I feel..." Ezra hesitated. She hadn't figured it out. There as too much at risk, he couldn't let her take control of the situation. Maybe, just maybe... "I feel surprised that you put it all together."

Kirsten O'Donnell gave him a confused look.

He sighed and turned back to his workspace, keeping what he was typing on his display private. "I came to pretty much that same conclusion when they approached me with the contract offer." He needed to find a copy of that contract... there! Now, an image of a skiff unloading something in front of a restaurant... "I looked around for anything I could find about JaM Products," he hurriedly put images together. It didn't need to be good enough for a rigorous inspection, just for a second. "...and I found these." The doctored images flashed across his display. A transport skiff with a JaM logo on it. "Just before the Great Waffle Switch." A man with a briefcase, the JaM image superimposed on it, walking to a shuttle monitoring station. "The Day of Pants-less Shuttles." A skiff partially off screen, half of the JaM logo on it as well. "The University Statue Caper."

Kirsten took in the images, eyes widening. "Of course," she whispered, "why didn't I think of that angle?"

Ezra nodded grimly. "They appear to have been present in some capacity at nearly every Guild of Sundry event for years, surfacing and then vanishing into the shadows."

"I don't understand," a bit of the usual edge crept back into Kirsten's voice. "Why did you go along with it if you knew?"

"I decided that this was an opportunity. The Hughes family had tipped their hand, as had the Guild. With a little planning, I could catch them all in one fell swoop." Ezra smiled at Kirsten, all teeth, nearly a snarl. "While I build them what they've asked for, I'll keep the real controls for it right here in my lab."

He could almost hear the wheels in Kirsten's head turning, putting it together. "That way they can't do anything without your say so," she gasped. "You'll have them completely locked down, all the while having them pay you to do it and gaining the family a powerful resource in Hughes Legacy wormhole generators. They would last forever..." She gazed at Ezra in wonder. "Why didn't you tell me about this?"

"Well Miss O'Donnell," he paused, glancing away. Have to time this just right... he swept his gaze back to her, eyes hooded. "I didn't know if I could trust you."

"Oh Ezra," she breathed, eyes beginning to mist over with tears. No, wait, I didn't mean to make her cry! Does my trust really mean that much to her? Um, um, how can I take it back without making it sound like I'm taking it back?

A broad smile split Kirsten's face as she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him a fierce hug. Ezra froze, panicked and confused. What... what's going on?

"I never imagined that... I didn't think that you'd ever take an interest in the Legacy, that you were too naïve or didn't care about anything but your silly wormholes." She sniffled, laughing a little, face buried in his shoulder. He tentatively reached down to pat her back, too shocked to do anything else.

"And now with this, it's just... you're so..." She broke the embrace, taking a step back and cupping his face in her hands. Her cheeks were flushed prettily, eyes sparkling as she beamed up at him. "Devious!" She made the word sound happy and bubbly.

"I, uh... thanks?" Now he was blushing; his stupid body had realized that fierce Kirsten hugs felt very nice. It added a lot to the general confusion.

She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Still smiling at him for all she was worth, nodding. "I'll go draw up some statements so we can make their humiliation as public as possible." Her eyes brimmed with tears again and she gave him another quick hug, crushing herself to him. "Oh Ezra, you've made me so happy." She sniffed and brushed a tear out of her eye as she walked back to the door, turning to smile fondly at him before she left. "Will that be all, Mr. Hawkins?" Ezra nodded stiffly.

"Yes, good." He croaked to a now empty room. Some detached part of his mind noted that this was probably some sort of sensory overload and began making notes as to his threshold for handling vast and sudden emotional shifts. It also petitioned his rational mind to cease and desist attempting to be too clever by half. It was a shame his rational mind still wasn't working.

#  Chapter 20

## At Least It's Not Raining

The next morning, Ezra was wakened by a call to his room. "Mr. Hawkins, your friend is here for your morning exercise routine." Kirsten's voice sounded entirely too awake for... two in the morning? Ezra was halfway through his shower before he realized that there was no morning exercise routine. He pulled on some clothes and hurried to the front door by way of the kitchen – if he had to be awake he was at least going to eat, darn it – to find out what was going on.

Mat and Kirsten were talking in the showing room. Wait, Mat and Kirsten were talking?! Ezra paused in the doorway, confused, wondering if this was an odd dream or something. Mat was looking pleased with himself. He said something to Kirsten in a low voice, gesturing to Ezra as he walked in the room, and she... laughed. Not only that! She put her hand on his arm while she was laughing. Kirsten was flirting with Mat! Mat was smiling from ear to ear as he called out, "Hey Ezra, ready for that new training regiment we're starting today?"

Ezra looked at Mat. He looked at Kirsten. He shook his head a few times. "I think I might still be asleep. I wouldn't really trust anything I said or did at this point in time."

"Nah, we both know I'd be Gal if you were sleeping. Probably be wearing less too." Kirsten laughed at that too! It wasn't even funny! She leaned on Mat lightly, and he clearly loved it. "Yeah, we were gonna get in one last trip to the gym this morning before you locked yourself away for a couple days, remember?" Kirsten's eyes narrowed and she shot Ezra a quick glance, then went back to beaming at Mat. "And speaking of Doe, she knows you're gonna be working on whatever you're doing with Sarah Hughes, right? I seem to recall her being the jealous type..." Mat scratched his stubbly chin, as if stroking an imaginary beard.

"Oh, yeah. The, uh, testing. Making sure that our prototype can handle the strain. Yeah, yeah... a few days, at least." Ezra tried to stop giving Mat confused looks, but Kirsten had begun lightly stroking his arm! When did this... hadn't they been... he was missing something here.

"No time like the present. Let's go, Legacy boy, I'm gonna make you remember this workout." Mat turned, a serious look on his face, and brought Kirsten's hand up to his lips. "And I'll just have to look forward to next time." She giggled again, renewing Mat's grin. He was whistling as he sauntered past Ezra, clapping him on the back a little harder than was necessary.

"If I could just detain you for one moment, Mr. Hawkins." She turned her smile back to Mat. "Family business, I'm afraid. I won't keep him long, Mat." Her voice caressed the name. Somehow Mat's grin got even bigger. Ezra wondered how much wider it could grow before Mat's face split in half. It couldn't be that much more.

Once they were alone, Kirsten's voice returned to its usual 'all business' tone. "This doesn't appear to be something you were planning; will you need my help killing it or cutting it short?"

Oh god, she's in conspiracy mode. No wonder she seems to be all over the place. "Um, no, I..." Ezra sighed, shaking his head slightly, miming a glance over his shoulder. "I've been expecting this. I believe the Hughes family will use this occasion to make their move on the other front. However..." How had Kirsten said it last night? Ah... "...they made a miscalculation. She's not my type."

Kirsten smiled at him conspiratorially, touching his arm lightly. "I'll keep everything running smoothly here. You can count on me."

"Oh, and, uh... I'll try to keep Mat from coming around if I can, as well."

Kirsten heaved a sigh of relief. "That would be appreciated; I don't know how long I can stand doing that." A look of concern flashed across her face. "But only if you can manage it without showing our hand."

Ezra gave her a confident grin, mimicking her tone. "You can count on me." He turned and, without looking back, marched through the door.

Once outside, Mat turned to him and said, "You know, I think I'm finally growing on her. Ladies just can't resist the old Matanane charm for long!"

Ezra laughed out loud, not wanting to hurt his friend's feelings over this. Who knew, maybe he really would break Kirsten down, some day. He lowered his voice and asked, "So, what's really going on?"

Mat glanced around, checking for eavesdroppers in the early morning mist. "Got a flag almost an hour ago. Fire-kissed up in the central region, near the blight line."

"Blight line?" Ezra asked, always looking for a little more knowledge. "I saw it mentioned a few times in mission reports, but it was never explained."

"Tough to explain the thing," Mat responded cryptically, "You'll see."

"You guys never tell me anything," Ezra complained.

"What's the fun of having a newbie if you don't torment him?" Sarah ghosted up to them through the mist. "Mat. Hawkins." She nodded to each of them. "Keep your voices down. I don't know any more than you. We'll be briefed when we get to the Guild."

They made it to the Conservatorium, in to the phone booth, and down to the Guild of Sundry. Ezra even got to dial himself in this time. He felt very not-white-rabbit.

Mr. Blair was waiting for them in the wormhole room and briefed them on their way down the stairs to the hangar. "You'll be heading to a small town called Southedge located on the southern edge of the blight line. We have a small problem with this flag. Thirty six hours ago we confirmed a sudden, violent windstorm in the area which culminated in a tornado touching down on the outskirts of the town and then dispersing. This leaves us in a dilemma with the red flag, which notifies us of a fire-kissed." Blair sighed as he keyed in a code to open the hangar door. "The town itself is a small trading post, which isn't too surprising given its proximity to the sky stream and the blight line. I took the liberty of appropriating a small stock of the provisions you brought back from your last mission for something exactly like this. You will be able to pose as traders getting in one last run before the onset of winter."

"What's our relationship with the contact in the area?" Sarah began looking through the weapons, picking out two of the knives she favored.

"Jeremy Haldis believes we're... demons, or something. Show up at night in full tactical gear. He's actually part of our problem here. We've dealt with Mr. Haldis several times, and his information is always concise, clear and useful. If he says there is a fire-kissed I'm inclined to believe him. It's possible that the wind-scarred moved on and a fire-kissed came into the area looking for him, but has instead stayed on and is causing trouble." Mr. Blair's voice said he wasn't quite buying into the theory. "This situation may very well be cut and dry, but it seems complex enough that you may need to do some reconnaissance before actually engaging your target. There may be as many as two elementalists in the area, so tread lightly. I wish you all luck." He patted Ezra's shoulder as he left the hangar.

"So..." Ezra began, "...the hangar."

Mat grinned. "Nearest port is almost eighty miles southeast of the town, hidden in a bunch of rocks. We'll be taking a skiff to get in and out." He let out a bark of laughter. "Remember when we set that one up, Sarah? Rob was all like, 'No, you need to get it further back there, what if someone happens to be climbing these rocks out in the middle of nowhere and–'" Mat stopped abruptly, eyes widening, glancing over at Sarah worriedly. She had frozen, hand supporting herself on the weapon rack, eyes squeezed shut. She trembled a little as she took a slow breath. "I'm sorry." Mat said quietly, turning back to the clothes in the nearby locker.

Ezra looked back and forth between them, then sidled up next to Mat and started to ask in a low voice, "Who's–"

"Just drop it." Mat cut him off. "Bad things happen." He looked Ezra over. "You'll need a set of tactical gear along with the rest of this stuff. Let's see what we can do."

They readied themselves in silence. Sarah picked out several weapons that looked like what crossbows hoped to be when they grew up. "Fire-kissed mess with explosions just by being there," she said to no-one in particular, voice flat and emotionless. "Guns don't work right around them."

Mat picked up a high-powered rifle with an oversized scope. Ezra gave him a questioning look. "In case we have to deal with a wind-scarred." He shrugged. "Tornadoes take a bunch of power to make, but the wind-scarred who develop the muscle for it usually can't handle finer techniques. Only takes one good shot." He loaded the gun into the waiting skiff.

Ezra checked his shoulder harness to make sure it was secure, then looked for a knife. Mat cleared his throat and Ezra turned to him. He was holding out a belt with a twin to his own sword sheathed on it. "You might be passable by now with one of these." Ezra grinned and took the belt.

"Let's move out." Sarah got into the driver's seat of the skiff as Ezra jumped on board and Mat keyed in the wormhole destination. A portal opened up and cold, heavy rain began pouring through.

"Aw, you're kidding me," Mat lamented. He quickly gathered up some rain gear and threw it on board as the puddle around the wormhole grew. "Bet it's gonna rain the whole time. Won't be any girls out in that."

Sarah brought the skiff to life and shot through the wormhole. They were slapped in the face with a wall of the coldest water Ezra had ever felt. The wormhole closed behind them as they made their way up out of a narrow crevasse and through a tumbling of rocks and boulders. Ezra shivered with cold, pulling his rain gear around him more tightly. "So where's this blight line?" he yelled to Mat over the pounding water.

"Don't forget about your communicator." Mat responded through his wryly. "Won't pass too near it till we get close to the town." He squinted up through the rain at the cloudy sky. "Should still be dark enough when we get there to make contact. I'll spot for you and Sarah." They skimmed on in silence, rain-blurred landscape sliding into view and then vanishing back into the night.

#  Chapter 21

## Demons in the Dark

Just under an hour later they came to a stop. Ezra strapped on his night vision goggles and looked around the rain-streaked terrain. He squinted at something off to the north, and adjusted the goggles to zoom in. A solid line of glistening black came into view, and Ezra drew in a breath.

"The blight line," Mat confirmed. "It stretches nearly around the world, more or less straight, broken only by lakes and oceans. The ground there was superheated until it turned to glass." He shook his head as he readied his rifle. "We don't know what did it, but it's been there since before Sanctuary, so it's a safe bet that it happened during the war. That much power..." His voice sounded slightly haunted. "I don't think we could have done that. Hell, I don't think we could do it now."

"People out here are scared to death of the blight line itself." Sarah adjusted her belt and engaged the hologram that would hide their skiff. "But they make roads beside it, since it cleared the ground for kilometers around it on either side. They actually have bridges to cross it in some places, where they can't use the sky stream." She looked off toward the small town in the distance. "Come on, our meeting place is on the blight side of town, in a little cave."

They made their way through the night until a small group of rocks, tilted together to almost form a tent, appeared. A bedraggled red flag flopped around near its peak. Mat took off at his loping run to get a view of the inside of the cave and the surrounding area. Sarah and Ezra slowly crept around it to come in from the north, as if they had come off the blight. Ezra saw a weak red flicker inside the cave. Someone had lit a fire. Just before they slipped inside, Mat's voice came through their communicators. "Hold. Jeremy Haldis is not in the cave." Sarah and Ezra froze, waiting for Mat to continue. "There's a young woman inside, huddled up next to the fire, trying to stay dry. She's looking around every few seconds. I'd say she's here for us. Sarah, how do want to do this?"

"I don't like surprises." Sarah's voice was as hard as it had been all night. Or morning. Whatever time it was. "You spot anyone else around? Heat signatures?"

"Nothing," came Mat's reply. "That little fire isn't enough to hide someone else, either."

Sarah cocked her head slightly, as if weighing options. Ezra stared at the little copse of stones for a handful of seconds, then asked, "Mat, how does the girl look?"

"She looks miserable and... terrified. Like she's expecting something to jump out of the shadows at her any second."

Ezra nodded. "Almost like she's out near midnight waiting for demons to show up?"

"Heh, yeah, I guess it could look a lot like that." Mat chuckled grimly.

Ezra turned his attention back to Sarah. "Okay," she said. "We'll check it out. Keep us covered and apprised of any changes in the situation."

"Roger that. You are green to engage." Ezra took a deep breath as Mat gave them the go ahead.

"Making contact." Sarah's voice came back, cold and detached. They made their way into the shelter of the cave, making no effort to hide as they stalked inside.

Ezra thought the girl was going to faint. "Sweet Mother preserve me!" she gasped, scrambling back away from them. She looked young, maybe sixteen or seventeen, homespun dress smudged with mud, her reddish blonde hair pulled back from her face.

"You raised the flag," Sarah stated.

"I-I... yes, I raised the flag, as my father before me, great ones." The girl watched them with terrified eyes, getting to her knees and bowing low. "He... well I suppose you know, what with his soul and... since you're here, and y-you knew that I'd..." She gulped loudly, then closed her eyes and stammered out, "I, Jenna Haldis, will make any c-compact that pa... that my father made with you, only... p-please, you must help us, like you did b-before, the other times!" She was practically sobbing at this point. Ezra felt horrible.

"The compact will be kept." Sarah's voice still sounded alien, void of any emotion or inflection. "You will tell us what you wish done, and we will judge."

The girl, Jenna, opened her eyes and gazed back up them, and Ezra couldn't tell if her tears were from fright or hope. "He... he came the day before yesterday. My father and the other village elders, t-they were meeting at the edge of town." She took a trembling breath. "The wind-scarred, he killed them all. He didn't ask for anything. We didn't even know he was there until he walked in, all covered in bandages except his hands, and they were a mess of scars so we knew, we knew he had done it. And then this storm came and we just..." An edge of anger began to tinge words. "He demanded... things, from us, from many of th-the women, whichever ones he fancied. Took anything he wanted and said that the elders were just an example, that if we didn't, that he... that he would..."

"How do they know it was him?" Ezra murmured to Sarah and Mat. "It could have been a freak wind storm."

"In hundreds of years of watching, there's never been a natural disaster," Mat said quietly. "When man controls nature, every disaster in man-made."

The anger that had entered Jenna Haldis's voice as she spoke flared into hatred, hatred at the man who had done this to her and her family, hatred at her own inability to do anything about it. "I don't care what you do to me," she spat, "but I want him to suffer. I want to see him die. Make him pay!"

Sarah stared at the girl unnervingly until she visibly wilted, cowering again. Mat's voice came back through the communicators. "No fire-kissed then. Girl probably knew her dad did this when there was trouble, but didn't know which flag to use. Have to slip her a cheat sheet on that before we go." Ezra nodded slightly. The girl shifted her gaze to him, all anger and terror.

"We shall do as you ask," Sarah said, then turned and stalked from the cave.

Ezra followed, trying to walk like a demon until they were out of sight. He heard the girl sobbing in the flickering fire light behind them. "Oh thank you. Mother help me, thank you."

"Can't say I like whoever set up this contact," Ezra muttered as they made their way back to the skiff.

"We all do what we have to, Hawkins. We just try to get by as best we can."

Mat joined up with them back by the skiff. "Oh, before I forget," Ezra said as he pulled on his rain gear, "my secretary was poking around old Guild events. I think I threw her off the scent, but she found some pictures of this guy, was wondering if you knew him. His name was... something with an R. Ralson, I think."

Mat made a choking sound as Sarah exploded. "What, one time wasn't enough?! It hurts, okay! Now can you both just drop this so I can do my strucking job?!" She started the skiff and began moving it into a better position to watch the town. Ezra thought he heard her sniff and saw her shoulders tremble slightly. Mat gave him a warning look.

"I'll take first watch." Mat intoned quietly. "The town should be pretty quiet 'till some time after dawn, especially if this rain doesn't let up. You two try and get some sleep." He settled in to watch the town. Sarah pulled her rain gear around her without looking at either of them and hunkered down under it, staring off into the night without seeing anything. Ezra shook his head, too tired to be curious, then tried to fall asleep.

He failed. A few hours later, Mat produced a small thermos of coffee. Ezra glared up at the still pouring rain and nodded his thanks to Mat, taking the covered cup that was offered to him. Mat set a second cup next to Sarah. "Tell me about it?" Ezra asked after taking a scalding sip.

Mat glanced at Sarah's still, unmoving form. "Not for me to say," he muttered, pouring himself a steaming cup. They sat watching the day brighten, the sun rising somewhere behind the rain and clouds.

Several minutes later Sarah stirred, one hand slipping from beneath her rain gear to pick up the coffee. Her voice was rough as she said, "Report. Anything notable?"

"Nothing so far." Mat took a moment to scan the small town through his scope. "Looks like there's a little movement. We should probably get you two fitted out to head in there and get a better feel for things."

Sarah nodded as Ezra looked through the packs Mr. Blair had provided for them. One contained five jugs of the cider they had brought back from Arborlen. Mat looked over his shoulder. "Good thing we brought a packhorse, eh?" He let out a laugh as he thumped Ezra on the back. Even Sarah almost smiled at that.

#  Chapter 22

## Tavern Talk

"I think I'm getting a cold," Ezra said miserably over the communicators, just over an hour later as he and Sarah marched along the muddy road into town. The pack shifted uncomfortably on his back with every step.

"Pretend to be a professional, Hawkins, and stop whining." Sarah was clearly enjoying Ezra's private little hell.

"If I did this for a living, you can be sure that I'd complain every step of the way, but probably louder and about a wider array of issues," Ezra grumbled back.

Mat snickered from his lookout position on a little hill near the town, the skiff at rest behind its holographic camouflage somewhere nearby. They walked into town unchallenged, Mat keeping them informed about any movement as they made their way in.

"It looks like there are a few people gathered at the inn. They're setting tables, getting ready for the morning. Seems a decent starting point. Two more buildings in, then turn left, thirty meters and it will be the big one on your right." Mat's voice came through clearly despite the pounding rain.

"On our way," Sarah replied, picking up her pace. Ezra let out a sigh, hoisting the heavy pack higher on his back and trotting to keep up. They opened the doors to the inn wide and let themselves in. There were three people in the room. A big, comfortably overweight man stood to the back of the bar, beard bristling. A worried looking, plump woman wrung her hands in her apron, eyes bloodshot and puffy, as if she had been crying. A little slip of a girl, probably eight or nine years old, paused as she set a table, freckled face peering up at the intruders. All three of them seemed to breathe a sigh of relief when they saw Sarah and Ezra, then went back about their business. The big man walked up to greet them.

"Traders?" he grunted out, nodding at the pack on Ezra's back.

Sarah smiled broadly. "Arborlen's best cider, just got it out before winter. Trying to get in one last trip before heading home." She gestured curtly for Ezra to place the pack on the floor.

"Ungh," the man grunted again, picking out one of the jugs, checking the labels and smelling the contents. Replacing the bottle, he began to say something and was immediately interrupted by the plump woman who bustled over, wiping off her hands.

"Well, we always like seeing Arborlen apples down here, especially so late in the year. Sit, sit. Kelly!" She hardly seemed to take a breath as she spoke, calling to the slight young girl, "Bring out a loaf of that bread. I'm Mistress Wellward. You'll have to excuse my husband, always jabbering on. Now, where were we? Oh yes, the cider. It will be so nice to have something to warm up what with the weather and the terrible commotion with that..." She stopped herself, eyes widening, then continued hurriedly, "Oh but now you won't care about that. A price! That's why you're here, after all. Now, we don't have much mind, you. There are a few bits of fur we had put aside, and some cheese that should be ready, and then of course we have–"

"Potatoes," Sarah interrupted her. "Hearty Southedge potatoes can fetch a decent price further west, and we'd be obliged to take any you can spare. We can haggle over the price later, after you've accounted for our staying the night, that is." Kelly arrived with the bread, still warm. "If you have a free room? I'm afraid we've been walking all night."

"You want to stay the night?" Mrs. Wellward squeaked. "Oh, but I'm sure that important people like you have important things to be doing. The skyports, that's where you'll be headed. Really no reason to stay around here, really. I'm sure you'd be much more comfortable on the road or out–"

"In this storm?" Sarah asked incredulously. "No, a few hours spent not being wet and cold–" Mat grumbled at them incoherently through the comm link, "–sound heavenly right about now. And if you have a stable with some dry hay for my man here, he can help clean up to earn his keep." Mat's grumbles turned to chuckles. Ezra looked from Sarah to the other woman in panic. She wouldn't really... he knew she was upset, but a stable? Seriously?

"I really don't know what we can offer you, what with the weather and not having had a chance to get everything ready... and then we'd have to adjust the cooking and set aside time for the cleaning and–"

"Martha, leave off," Mr. Wellward rumbled as he easily lifted the pack containing the cider. "S'ok." He nodded to Sarah and Ezra and made his way back toward the kitchen.

"Well, all right then." Mrs. Wellward sounded a little flustered. "Kelly? Can you show Mistress..."

"Miss, actually. Hughes. Sarah Hughes. Call this one Ezra." She gestured to Ezra, smirking at him. "He tries his best, don't you Ezra?" Her voice pitched as if talking to an excitable dog. Martha Wellward grimaced slightly, then gestured to her daughter.

"Well, go along now Kelly, show Miss Hughes up to the third room, that one should be clean. Go on now." She shooed the girl off with Sarah trailing in her wake. Once they had left the room, she turned to Ezra. "Now don't you worry none, we don't hold with slavery around here. Especially with masters like that." She thinks I'm Sarah's slave, Ezra thought dazedly. Oh, this just gets better and better. "You just go on out through the side door and take the ladder up to the hay loft and relax for a spell. I'll send Kelly along with some hot soup for you, won't that be nice?" She smiled at him and patted his hand. And slow, Ezra amended. She thinks I'm an idiot slave. Wonderful...

He smiled and bowed to her, following her instructions to the hay loft. He had a nice view of the town, Mat's hill looming in the background. "Thanks Sarah. The hay is great," he grumbled into his communicator.

"Just trying to give you the whole experience, Hawkins. Keep an eye on anyone coming or going, especially if they look like they might be our wind-scarred friend. I've got a view of the road behind the building from here. Any luck on your end, Mat?"

"Town's just starting to come to life, as much as anything can in this thundering rain. Nothing yet."

Ezra heard the door below him open and close. He urgently tried to tug his sword out from under him. "Guys, there's someone–" Kelly's head popped up over the top of the ladder, grinning. Hot soup, that's right; he had forgotten. He blamed Sarah. And Mat. And the stupid rain. "False alarm," he murmured, smiling back at the little girl.

She produced a bowl of steaming soup and a chunk of the freshly made bread. He nodded to her as he took it, and she squatted down to stare at him in unabashed interest. "Yes?" he said in amusement.

"Mama says you're a slave." Ezra grimaced and nodded at the girl's observation, making a mental note to kill Sarah some time soon. "That sounds pretty bad. It's like you have to take orders all the time, and you never get to do what you want or anything," she continued, eyes drifting to the bread in his hand. Ezra smiled and broke off a piece, offering it to her. She quickly took it and grinned at him. "Thanks. You seem pretty okay, so I'll tell you something. When I grow up, I'm gonna be an adventurer!"

"Really?" Ezra asked, choking a little on his bread from the suddenness of her revelation. What exactly had he done to warrant a serious hopes and dreams talk from the little girl?

She bobbed her head enthusiastically. "Uh-huh. And I'm gonna be an earth-crowned, or maybe travel with one." Her eyes got a far-away look as she stared out into the rain. "They get to go everywhere," she said in a tone of quiet awe, "anywhere they want, whenever they want. And no-one tells them what do or anything." Ezra glanced around, not sure where this was going. He held out the bowl of soup, and she absently dipped her bread in it and took a bite. "I like you," she said around mouthfuls. "Lets be friends." She held out her free hand toward him. "Kelly."

Ezra smiled again at the odd child, and shook her hand. "Ezra."

Kelly nodded suddenly, as if deciding something. "One day, Ezra, when I'm an earth-crowned, I'll take you on adventures with me. Then you won't have to be a slave and you can do whatever you want."

Ezra chuckled. "And how will you become an earth-crowned?" he asked, bemused by the blunt little girl.

She gave him a look as if he had asked the stupidest question she had ever heard. "Everyone knows that," she said, then her voice lilted into the obvious meter of a child's rhyme:

The earth-crowned are drawn

From the bold and the strong

From those who protect

And will right any wrong

Ezra felt the smile fall off his face. That was... basically the same conclusion he had come to, but only after days of pouring through the Guild's mission reports. And yet... if this was something everyone, even the children, knew about... they were missing something, something important. He began to ask her if she knew anything about the other elementalists, when Mrs. Wellward's voice drifted up to them, tone that of a mother calling her lollygagging children back to their duties.

"I better get back inside now. I need to help take care of Daniel while he's sick. Bye, Ezra!" Kelly vanished down the ladder.

"Bye," Ezra said quietly as she left. He mulled over what he had learned from the little girl, so certain that she could become an earth-crowned, simple as rhyming.

"You should ask her out when this is all over, Hawkins," Sarah's voice came through, dry and amused.

Sounds of Mat trying not to laugh weren't far behind. "Oh, oh help! The little girls are coming for me! They might have soup!" His communicator echoed with the choked laughter.

"Shut up, jerks," Ezra grumped, embarrassed. He turned his gaze away from the hill, positive that Mat was watching him from his vantage point. That was the only reason he saw the little boy standing on top of a weather vane over a tall building behind the stable. A little boy staring directly at Mat.

#  Chapter 23

## Whatever the Storm Blows In

The child's skin was an almost unreal black, his hair a mess of wiry black curls. Somehow he didn't even look wet in the rain... "Mat," Ezra said urgently, "there's a dark kid standing on the weather vane behind the stable. He's looking right at you."

The boy glanced down toward Ezra, almost like he'd heard, and smiled broadly. A gust of freezing wind suddenly kicked up hay all around him as a solid sheet of water obscured his vision. "Blighted rain," Mat swore. "Where? I don't see anything, Ezra."

Ezra scanned the area in disbelief. He had seen him, right there, only a second ago. Now there was nothing but the dreary, rain-soaked town. "I saw... it was a boy. A child. Maybe eight years old. He was looking right at you and smiling, he was..."

"Standing on a weather vane, Hawkins?" Sarah's voice came through, skeptical. "In this weather, no less? Look, I know I'm being a little hard on you, but if you can't handle it..."

"Yeah, you feeling all right man?" Mat sounded concerned. "Maybe you are coming down with something. Immune system might not be used to all these foreign substances." A wry note entered Mat's tone. "You know, like soup and bread. Was it really as warm as it looked?" He sounded wistful.

"I just..." Ezra rubbed his eyes and glanced across the rooftops again. No sign of the strange little boy. "I must just be tired."

"Get some sleep," Mat advised. "I can cover from here. It's still early, nothing's happening for hours yet."

Ezra lay back against the hay, still searching around for any sign of what he had seen. Or thought he had seen. Maybe he really was just tired after all...

==

The ship began to shudder, alarms blaring. Ezra spun around, eyes taking in the panicked people moving as if in slow motion. He slowly blinked his eyes. He was in space, floating. The angel spread her wings below him. His eyes closed and opened again. Her mouth was pressed to his, breathing life into him, fiery wings enveloping him, keeping him warm, safe. Blink. She was falling away, peacefully drifting to Earth, beautiful, haunting. The landing dock doors closed with a...

Crash! Ezra bolted up, sweating. He heard the rumble of distant thunder out in the storm. The storm, that's right. I fell asleep during the storm in a hayloft. Not on the ship. He struggled to get his breathing back under control as he checked in with Mat and Sarah. "Guys? Everything all right? I must have dozed off for a minute there..."

"Nearly six hours, actually. I didn't know you needed your beauty sleep that badly, Hawkins," Sarah teased him.

"Don't worry Ezra, everything's been fine. We'd have woken you if we needed help." Mat's lazy drawl was a reassurance. "You two may as well head down to the inn for an early dinner. It doesn't look like this storm is letting up at all. Think you can get your new little girlfriend to run something out to me, Ezra?"

They're not going to let that go, Ezra thought glumly. He had just reached the door when Mat's voice came through again. "Whoa, head's up everyone. Looks like something's happening in the dining room."

"I just heard someone swagger by outside and take the stairs loudly." Sarah sounded calm and professional. "What do you see Mat?"

"Hold on, nothing through the windows yet. Wait, I can see...yeah, that's our guy. Bandages all around his face and neck. Just his hands are showing, and they're clearly scarred up. Everyone's giving him a pretty wide berth in there."

"Hawkins, you go on in and get us a table. I have a theory I want to test, and I'd like a place to sit if it works." Sarah's voice had a measure of determination to it. "Mat, be ready to take your shot if things go south; I'll keep your line of fire clear."

"Wait," Ezra began, "what are you going to–"

"I need you in there to spot for me, Hawkins," Sarah interrupted. "Keep yourself in a position to cover me. You might get a chance to use that sword if things go really wrong."

Ezra gulped down the lump in his throat and opened the door, letting himself into the dining area. The room was crowded and simmering in a sullen sense of unrest. Jenna Haldis scuffled by, reddish blonde hair tied up in a tight bun. She and two other girls who looked remarkably like her made their way through the little tavern serving drinks, soup and bread. All three of them kept casting nervous glances toward the tall, gaunt man at the bar. The rest of the room seemed to be pointedly looking anywhere but there. Ezra watched the wind-scarred out of the corner of his eye as he found an empty table in the corner, next to a window.

The man was tall, around six-foot-five. His entire head was swathed in dirty bandages, as was his neck and upper torso. He wore a long, dark coat over the wrappings. One hand, nearly white with thick, ugly scars, was raised. "Another round, barkeep," he barked in a nasally, unpleasant voice. Mr. Wellward refilled the mug in front of the man from one of jugs Ezra had brought earlier that day, steam curling up from the freshly poured cider, his face set as if in stone. A similar mug appeared in front of Ezra as the barmaids made their way through the room. The man drank deeply of his, then slammed it down to the counter, sloshing some of the drink out of the cup. "Ah, that's some good stuff. Where'd you get real Arborlen cider way down here this time of year? No matter, just keep it topped off." He belched loudly, and most of the room cringed.

Sarah chose that moment to come stumbling down the stairs, yawning ostentatiously. "Ah, that was just what I needed," she exclaimed to the room, drawing everyone's eye. She took a few steps toward the bar and wobbled directly into the wind-scarred, knocking his steaming drink into his lap. Everything went deathly quiet. No-one moved, no-one spoke. "Hey, where's that cider at! I'm parched here!" she called back into the kitchen. The rain pounding against the windows seemed almost deafening. Every horrified eye in the room shifted from Sarah to the bandaged man as he knocked away his stool and began cursing loudly. "Oh, you should be careful there," Sarah observed, as if just now noticing him. "That stuff looks hot."

"You thundering... I'm gonna... and this..." The man fumed at her incoherently for a handful of seconds while she gave him her most deadpan look. "Do you know who I am? Do you have any blighted clue what the I'm gonna strucking do to you?"

"A drunk," Sarah answered, no inflection in her voice. She hooked the thumb of one hand into her belt, near the wicked looking knives she wore there. Her voice got quiet, dangerous. "And I think you may bleed on me, but I'm not in love with this shirt." She stared him down as Mat verified that he was ready to shoot.

The big man drew himself up, towering over her as the innkeeper timidly left a mug on the counter. Ezra thought he saw the wind-scarred twitch, as if taking a quick look around the room. A sudden of gust outside made the windows rattle, the doors creak, and most of the room flinch.

"Ah ha ha ha!" The elementalist burst out laughing. "I like you! Feisty! Barkeep, another drink!" He surreptitiously moved one stool away from where Sarah stood, not even glancing in her direction. Eyes never leaving the bandage-wrapped man, she nodded to the innkeeper, took her cider, and walked over to Ezra's table. Half the room followed her with their eyes, wonder in their collective gaze. The other half stared speculatively at the wind-scarred now drinking in silence. Except for Jenna Haldis. She just looked pleased. And eager.

Ezra glanced between Sarah and the hunched form of the elementalist at the bar, shocked and confused and relieved all at once. "What just happened?" he asked as he brought his mug up to his lips.

"Sarah called his bluff." Mat sounded like he was grinning. "But did you really have to be so dramatic about it? Scared me half to death up here."

"Had to be sure, Mat. He's probably a knife fighter or something; he settled his weight right for it before he backed off." Sarah sounded relieved, hands shaking a little as she took a deep pull from her mug, emptying it. People began to move restlessly. Sarah reached over and grabbed Ezra's drink, cradling it between her hands in front of her. "He's no wind-scarred though. I think we're just about done here. Anything to report before we find an exit?"

Mat chuckled. "Why don't you just sit tight for a minute or two while I catch my... wait, hold on. Someone must have walked into town while I was setting up the shot. They're headed toward the inn, incoming in ten seconds. Can't really make out the details too well... looks like they're wearing a cloak and a hood and... ugh, I swear the water's getting in the way on purpose–"

The door of the inn slammed open. A woman of medium height walked in, blue and gray patterned robe soaking wet, her features hidden beneath a deep cowl. Her head turned slowly back and forth across the room, coming to rest on the innkeeper behind the bar. She lifted lightly tanned, smooth hands to draw back her hood. Sarah quietly cursed under her breath. The woman's hair was a deep, rich black, coiled artfully around her head. Her skin was a light copper, completely free of blemishes or wrinkles. But it was her eyes that drew the room's attention. They were the solid blue of endlessly deep water. The eyes of a water-seer.

She practically flowed across the room, all grace and poise, as people edged out of her way, trying to avoid notice. Stopping in front of Mr. Wellward, she murmured, "An empty cup, please." The innkeeper quickly obliged her, setting down a large cup on the bar's surface. She lifted a hand to it and, while the whole room watched, water began to flow out of her robe, twining delicately around her fingers as it snaked into the cup.

Ezra couldn't have looked away even if he had wanted to. He had seen what Arn could do – violent, rapid displays of power – but this was something else entirely. Every swirl of the perfectly clear water was pure art, immaculately controlled, a mesmerizing mixture of form and function.

"Thundering showoff," the would-be wind-scarred muttered into his mug. The water-seer made no notice of him as the stream came to an end. She stood there, back to Ezra and Sarah, fingers lightly trailed across the surface of the now filled cup. A muted, almost desperate tension filled the air. Even the torrential rain outside seemed to grow quiet in anticipation.

"Much better," she said again in the same low voice. She spoke softly, yet Ezra had no trouble hearing every word. This was a woman of power, he realized, and when she spoke, people listened. Her voice continued to float across the crowded tavern. "I shall need a room for the night to–"

A door on the far side of the room burst open. Mrs. Wellward came rushing out. "Oh m'lady seer." She interrupted the water-seer, who turned her unnerving gaze toward the flustered woman. "Thank the Mother! Please, please you must help." She threw herself to her knees, grasping at the hem of the water elementalist's robe and kissing it. Her husband grunted and looked beseechingly around to his patrons, but no-one would meet his eyes.

"Peace, my child," the cloaked woman intoned, almost kindly. "What troubles you?"

"Peace my child," the bandaged man mocked in a half-whispered falsetto, "blighted witch..." his voice trailed off as he emptied his cup. "Another round, barkeep. For the road," he mumbled toward the innkeeper, holding up his mug. Jenna Haldis snatched it from his hand, a brittle smile on her face. She spit in it, then slammed it back down in front of him. He flinched away from her and took a few furtive glances around the room.

Neither woman made any sign of having noticed him or Jenna's display. "Oh m'lady, my Daniel, my son... he has been stricken. The town healer, he tried, but he couldn't help my boy. He told me... told me to pray, and I prayed m'lady, prayed to all the Elements, b-but I had nearly lost hope, lost hope that I... that he..." She broke down into miserable sobs, clutching at the standing woman for support.

"Come." The water-seer laid a hand lightly on the bawling woman's head. "Show me to him."

"Oh thank you lady seer, thank you! Mother bless you!" Mrs. Wellward managed, her face turning red and blotchy as tears streamed down it. She clung to the water-seer's hand with the desperation of a person drowning.

"Yeah, you better run," the tall man muttered to himself.

Without warning, the water-seer's fingers flicked out of the cup, faster than Ezra could track. The wind-scarred pretender staggered off of his stool, clutching his cheek. Blood seeped out between his fingers. Two inches of what looked like an icicle was protruding from the man's jaw. Several of the bandages began to fall away, cut by the ice, revealing grimy, pockmarked, skin beneath. There was a noticeable lack of any scars.

"Worthless," the seer murmured, not turning back to look, following the innkeeper's wife into the back room. Mr. Wellward took a worried look around the room then hurried after them, shutting the door behind him.

"Holy..." Mat sounded awed. "You... you two need to get out of there, right now."

"I'm inclined to agree," Sarah said emphatically.

Ezra just stared at the man trying desperately to pull the frozen shard from his face. More bandages came loose, uncovering shifty, nervous eyes and greasy hair. Chairs began to creak and shift as men started getting to their feet.

"Hawkins, it's time to go," Sarah whispered, jaw clenched. The atmosphere in the room turned ugly as men rose from their chairs, making fists and blocking exits. Sarah reached out and roughly shook Ezra's shoulder, snapping him back to his senses.

His eyes darted around the room. "We're not getting out of here unnoticed," he said quietly. "And probably not until they've dealt with... that." Ezra gestured to the man being backed up against the bar counter as the room slowly advanced on him. "We can escape in the confusion afterward." Sarah made a sound like she disagreed, but Ezra pressed on. "Mat, can you see what's going on in that room? Or get us some sound? It could be important."

"We are not getting involved with a water-seer, Hawkins," Sarah hissed hotly, fingers digging into his shoulder.

"Please!" Ezra begged. "The more information we know about water-seers and the others the better prepared we can be. The closer we can get to really understanding them! We're in no more danger right now than anyone else in this room, aside from your friend over there. What are research teams for if not this?"

Sarah leaned back in her chair, muttering a curse. Mat made a few noncommittal noises then sighed. "All right Ezra, I'll get a beam on the little window back there and patch you in. Can't see inside, but you should be able to hear what's going on."

"Thanks, Mat." Ezra said, staring down the grain of the table. Sarah shook her head and finished the last of Ezra's cider, turning to glare out the window.

"...her hands on him mama?" Kelly's voice suddenly came through the communicators, almost hysterical. "Make her stop papa, she's hurting him!"

"Hush child!" Mrs. Wellward snapped, "she'll help your brother, you'll see." Kelly began to weep.

Tables and chairs scraped across the floor as more of the inn's angry patrons moved to ring in the doomed man at the bar.

"Yes, I can see how this would be beyond the skill of a local medicine man." The water-seer's calm tones came through over the little girl's crying. "He will be dead within the week." She said it with no feeling – no anger or compassion – just stating a fact. Sarah shivered as she watched the rain run down the glass.

"Oh please, you must help my Daniel. Please lady seer I beg you!" Mrs. Wellward's desperate voice cried.

"There will be a price," the seer said. "You know this."

"Yes, yes anything my lady! Just save him, please!"

"For the life of one boy, given back beyond his time, I will take..." The calm, passionless voice paused as if considering. Ezra held his breath.

The con man tried to inch away from the angry mob, kicking a stool at an assailant as he scrambled up onto the bar. It was caught and set harmlessly aside.

Something almost satisfied entered the water-seer's voice. "The girl."

#  Chapter 24

## Forbidden and Flowing

Sarah swore softly under her breath. "What does she..." Ezra began, feeling the blood draining from his face.

"She will travel with me for as long as she is fit. She will be expected to rise before me in the morning to prepare for the road. I will suffer no backtalk or lazing about. I will see to it that she is fed and watered, provided she does exactly what she is told when she is told to do it. She will not need any possessions or trinkets to accompany her, as we have a long way to travel and will be moving quickly. I will see to her dispensation if I find her services... wanting. I'm sure she'll fetch a fine price at the marketplace in Eastpoint if there are any problems."

Virtual slavery, Ezra thought numbly, with sale into actual slavery if Kelly disappoints her.

"They wouldn't..." Ezra could almost hear Mat's teeth grinding.

"Mama no," the girl whispered, terrified.

"Surely... surely you can't mean... there must be something..." Mrs. Wellward's voice was hopeless and forlorn, a woman faced an impossible choice.

"I have named the price for the boy's life. You have until I leave in the morning to decide." Sounds of movement, then the door opened a crack, only to be slammed shut again.

"Ungh," Mr. Wellward's grunt sounded defeated, as if his dearest hopes had been shattered. Mrs. Wellward made a horrible whimpering noise and began to weep again.

"No, papa, no," Kelly breathed. She began sobbing again, her voice rising in hysteria. "Please mama, I'll be good, I'll do as I'm told and never talk back and help with–"

She was cut off with a strangled sound. "Be silent, girl, and thankful for your brother's life." The seer's cold voice was a quiet, harsh reprimand.

Ezra felt his fingernails biting into his palms and realized his hands were clenched into tight fists. "We can't let her–"

"Change what you can, Hawkins," Sarah interrupted him. "And accept what you can't." Her face was pale, knuckles white where she gripped her mug.

"Bad things happen." Mat recited his mantra, resignation in his voice.

They heard more movement in the room, and Ezra felt hope rising within him. Surely they would come to some other arrangement. Surely they couldn't do that to their own daughter. There was a brief rustle of clothing, perhaps the sound of a hug, then Mr. Wellward came back into the room, head bowed as he rubbed at his eyes and shut the door behind him. Ezra stared at the big man in mute horror.

"She'll probably–" Mat cleared his throat. "She'll get to see the world, Ezra. Just like she wanted. Water-seers go all over, they're welcomed everywhere."

"As a slave." Ezra felt numb as he whispered back. "She'll see the world as a slave." He wanted to scream in frustration.

A gasp came through over the sound of Mrs. Wellward's grief, then a deep, ragged breath being drawn. "There," the water-seer said in her infuriatingly calm voice. "I'll collect the girl in the morning, after I've rested. Please see that she is fed and ready for travel. We won't be stopping until we've reached the skyports at Eastpoint. I will review her performance upon arrival and either keep her on or put her up to auction. I will need–"

A gunshot rang out in the bar, pulling Ezra's attention back to what was happening in front of him. The gangly man had jumped up onto the counter, his bandages pooling around his feet, greasy hair hanging limp over his wild eyes. The crowd that had pressed him was suddenly scrambling back, angry mutters hushed. In his hand he held what looked like an antique revolver. Jenna Haldis leaned heavily against the counter beside him, red hair mixing with blood as she clutched her shoulder and made piteous, mewing sounds.

"Everyone, just stand back!" he snarled at the crowd. "You'll stand back if you know what's good for you!" Ezra felt Sarah tense beside him.

"His head's obscured behind the wall," Mat reported in a clinically detached voice. "There are too many people around him for a safe shot without visual, and the freaking contact is between me and his legs. I have no shot."

"Yes," the man sneered, "I posed as a wind-scarred because that's what you trash would understand." He drew himself up, posturing grandly. "However! I am actually from," he let the tension build with a dramatic pause, "the Forbidden City!" He brandished his pistol in the air. Out of the corner of his eye, Ezra saw Sarah slowly drawing her gun from its hidden shoulder harness. "You thought us a myth, a tale to frighten your children at night. But we are real!" His voice shrilled harshly. "Real! And we will have our vengeance!" His gaze was lit feverishly as he scanned the room for an appropriate target of said vengeance. It finally came to rest on the girl at his feet. She stared up at him, eyes wide with terror and glistening with tears, slowly shaking her head in disbelief. "Behold the might of our technology!" He pointed the gun down at Jenna Haldis as she tried to squirm away.

The water-seer chose that moment to re-enter the room. Everyone, including Sarah, Ezra, and the lunatic with the gun turned to stare at her. She glanced up, unfazed, all-blue eyes calmly taking in the situation. The madman began to reorient the weapon on her, eyes gleaming with hatred. "You strucking–"

That was as far as he got. Faster then Ezra would have believed, the cloaked woman had crossed the room and vaulted onto the counter, a blur of blue and gray. Her hand flashed by the cup of water she had filled earlier, knocking it over and pulling the liquid that remained along with her, forming it into a blade as she streaked toward the lanky man. With a flick of her wrist, the water lashed out, cleanly removing the man's thumb and trigger finger along with the top of the gun. He let out a strangled shriek as she closed on him and lightly touched two slender fingers to his throat. Instantly the man made a choking sound, his body going rigid. With just the two fingers still resting just above his collarbone, the seer lifted him as if he weighed nothing. Some part of Ezra's mind cataloged the information away, noting that his life expectancy would be dramatically reduced if a water-seer ever touched him.

The elementalist cocked her head to one side. "You say you're from the Forbidden City? Extraordinary." She regarded him as if he were a particularly interesting insect. "I don't believe I've ever killed one of you before. I wonder what your life is worth. Tell me, are you alone?"

Abruptly the man let out a gasp, the ability to breathe returned to him. Ezra almost felt sorry for the failed con man, clearly thrust into a situation he could not handle. He had claimed credit for a tragedy and taken advantage of a village too shocked to do anything about it. Without a doubt, he was a monster, but before the indifference of the water-seer, he was less than a bug. The man looked wildly around the room, but no-one would meet his frantic gaze.

His eyes shifted past Ezra and landed on Sarah, desperate hope lighting them. Ezra could almost hear the thoughts clicking together in the man's mind. She was brave and clever! She had stood up to him, figured it all out! Someone like that might even find a way to save him, someone like that could... something evil slid over the his features, a crazed smile spreading across his face.

Ezra glanced back to see Sarah's eyes widen as she realized what was going through the doomed man's head. "Oh, struck me," she whispered in horror.

"Them!" he shouted as loudly as he was able, gesturing directly at Sarah and Ezra with the bloody mess that was his hand. "Those two came after me! From the Forbidden City!"

The water-seer turned, deep blue orbs singling them out across the crowded room. Her eyes narrowed on Sarah, frozen with her gun halfway out of its shoulder harness. She released the madly cackling man and, almost as an afterthought, flicked her hand, sending out a scythe of water that neatly slit his throat. Blood sprayed. A woman screamed. The seer blurred as she flitted through the crowd, cloak snapping every time she changed direction, no more hindered than if the room had been empty. So fast! Ezra barely had time to think as he rose, motions feeling sluggish, reaching for his sword.

Sarah, however, was ready. Leaning back in her chair, she kicked the table onto its side between them and the fast approaching elementalist, getting her gun clear of its holster and shifting into a shooter's stance. There was a hiss and the table split in two, a stream of liquid arching whip-like away from it, still anchored to the seer's fingertips. Sarah's pistol barked three times. A spurt of blood trailed from the water-seer's leg as she bobbed and wove, dodging the second shot and catching the third in a shield of water that quickly froze around the bullet, trapping it in place. The ice immediately melted back to liquid, snaking out and wrenching the gun from Sarah's hand. The elementalist's face lit up with a triumphant smile.

Then the tip of Ezra's sword bit into her face. The blade slashed up through her nose, nicking her left eyebrow. She jerked back, but Ezra's body moved forward instinctively, just like he had practiced, pressing her with a follow-up thrust at her exposed throat.

A dull shock ran through the blade and up Ezra's arm. It felt like he had stabbed a wall. A thin trickle of blood ran down the water-seer's hand, a millimeter or so of the sword's tip embedded in her palm where she had barely managed to catch his attack. Her lips spread in a feline smile as her tongue languidly licked at the blood running down her face, her hand wrapping around the sword's tip. Slowly, inexorably, the seer began to twist the weapon from Ezra's hands. He felt a measure of the hopeless panic he had seen in the dead man's eyes as he struggled to hold on to his blade.

The water-seer's shoulder snapped abruptly to the side, twisting her body away as another crack of thunder rattled the windows. Or maybe that wasn't thunder this time... "Crap, she's still up," Mat muttered.

The seer sprung up from where she had been thrown to the floor, a clean hole marking where the Mat's shot had gone straight through her bicep. She had somehow managed to jerk away from what should have been a clean head shot. Her strange eyes widened as she rapidly scanned the area in front of her, locking on the hole in the window just as second clap of thunder rang out. She flung herself to the side as her leg was swept out from under her by the force of the bullet's impact, sending her sprawling to ground. Before Mat could fire again, the water-seer pushed off the floor with all four limbs, sailing through the air and out of sight of the window.

And directly into the astonished crowd. They all went down in a tangle of arms of legs.

"I'm incoming, get out of there!" Mat cried to them urgently. Sarah spun, grabbing her chair and hefting it through the window. Ezra sheathed his sword in a practiced motion and bounded over his own fallen chair, then lurched to a stop. The wheels in his head were spinning, putting things to together, forming an idea.

"Hawkins!" Sarah yelled, one hand on the windowsill, her other reaching out to him. "Let's go!"

Ezra took a step away from her, glancing nervously over his shoulder toward where the water-seer had vanished into the writhing mass of bodies. The idea clicked into place. He licked his lips, spun, and sprinted across the room.

"Hawkins, what are you doing?!" Sarah screamed after him. "Get back here!"

A man suddenly flew through the air in front of him. "...off of me you trash!" He heard the water-seer snarl from somewhere inside the throng of toppled humanity. "They're getting..." another body went sailing over the bar in Ezra's peripheral vision "...away!"

His hand closed on the door handle and he wrenched it open. Light, fast footsteps sounded close behind him, and he was afraid he was going to have a heart attack as his mind leaped through calculations. How many bodies had been between his own and the water-seer's? Panic was rapidly replaced by relief as he caught the steady stream of curses Sarah was muttering under her breath. Ezra swept his gaze around the room. Mrs. Wellward was staring at him in horror, clutching a small, pale boy to her chest, tears still streaming down her face.

Kelly stood frozen in place, eyes bright with tears that she apparently could no longer shed, whimpering noises caught in her throat as her breath came very quickly and shallowly. Ezra grinned ferociously.

Sarah stopped cursing, but Ezra knew that was only because it was taking all of her energy to glare at him. He had a history of being glared at. He could sense it.

#  Chapter 25

## Dark and Stormy Night

Two long strides carried him through the room. He swept up the little girl, still stiff as a board, a human statue. A third step and he lifted his foot to kick down the door leading outside.

Sarah caught him before he could fall. It was a very well-made door. She let out a disgusted snort and stepped past him, deftly unlatching and opening it in a highly undramatic exit. Ezra smiled sheepishly at her, following as she rolled her eyes and stalked out into the rain. They sprinted around to the front of the inn just in time to see Mat come careening down the street in the skiff, kicking up waves of mud and water as he banked toward them.

Mat's wild eyes darted toward the building, the broken window gaping at them. He blinked at Ezra, then scowled at the little girl shoved under his arm. "No," Mat said firmly.

"We don't have time for this, and you know what happens if she stays!"

Mat's eyes turned pleading. "Ezra, we can't. Bad things happen. You can't save everyone."

Ezra scowled and squared his shoulders belligerently. "But we can save her."

"Girl shows a little interest and you think she's begging to be carried away from it all." Something almost like amusement danced behind Sarah's eyes as she hopped into the skiff. "Gal's gonna love this."

Mat shook his head angrily. "Struck me for a thundering idiot," he muttered, "get in. We'll figure something out." Ezra nodded and had barely gotten on board when Mat hit the accelerator, knocking Ezra to the floor of the skiff. They barreled off into the night, thrusters kicking up a wave of mud and water from the street below.

We must be moving pretty fast, Ezra thought as he scrambled into a seat, the rain pounding into his face with a stinging force. "It feels like we're driving into a river," he muttered into the communicator, trying to wipe water from his eyes. "And going upstream too..." Ezra trailed off, a fresh thrill of panic spreading its wings in his gut. He whipped around to look back at the inn, eyes wide.

Water was flowing in through the window. Streams converged on the ground into miniature rivers, racing up the walls. Rain diverted from its course, funneling into the dimly lit room through the shattered glass as if the house was breathing it in, forcing it to defy the will of the storm, wind, and gravity itself.

"God, no," he heard Sarah whisper.

A pulse shuddered through the rain, radiating from the broken window and jumping from raindrop to raindrop, faster than thought. Ezra heard the sound of millions of droplets resonating for the barest of instants. He held his breath, ready for whatever was coming next.

Nothing happened. The rain resumed its normal course, a dull, pounding beat. Ezra let out a sigh of relief and gave Mat and Sarah a shaky thumbs-up.

Then the building exploded. A geyser of water blew a hole through the front wall and roof of the inn, coalescing into a wave that bore the enraged water-seer out into the empty street, a small flood of dirty water and humanity spreading out in her wake. Ezra could feel her fury as she turned toward them, just as Mat rounded the corner. She let out a scream of frustration, thrusting her arm out in a sudden, vaguely martial gesture, and Ezra thought he saw a handful of raindrops leap out in their direction before the woman disappeared behind the building.

"Get down!" he yelled, throwing himself at Mat and Sarah, driving their heads down and forward.

"Hey, what are you–" Mat began, just as they heard what sounded like a dozen gunshots go off to their right. Several small pings sounded and Ezra felt a stinging pain in his right shoulder. The gunshot sounds repeated on their left half a heartbeat later.

Behind them, a section of the house they had rocketed past was a mangled wreck where the raindrops had ripped their way through. The same scene was repeated on the house that had been to their left and just ahead of them. Ezra put a hand to his shoulder. It came away slick with blood. He blinked at his hand as the rain washed it clean. Those little water bullets had cut him. Through his clothing. And his tactical body armor. Sarah's face turned very pale as she stared at the injury. Mat audibly gulped, then set the skiff weaving as he tried to coax every ounce of speed out of it.

They cleared the edge of town in time to see the water-seer crest the tops of the buildings, riding a growing wave of rainwater. She surged after them, launching another volley of raindrop bullets that never got close to reaching them. Ezra anxiously watched her for a few moments, a cautious smile growing on his face as he realized that they were pulling ahead. Sarah let out a whoop of triumph and grabbed Mat in a fierce hug. Ezra sighed with relief and slumped back into his seat.

Kelly had regained enough function by now to start sniffling as the tears in her eyes overflowed. "M-Maaaaamaaaa! Papa!" she wailed miserably. The girl began making clumsy efforts to push herself as far away from her rescuers as she could, still sobbing and keening at the top of her lungs.

"So," Mat's voice sounded distant in Ezra's ear. "The girl."

"I couldn't just leave her," Ezra muttered in reply. "You heard what was going to happen. It was just so... wrong."

"Not saying what you did was wrong," Mat responded firmly. "Not even saying that I wanted to do any different. But it was a bad thing to do."

Kelly's cries had turned hysterical as she stared desperately into the darkness, back the way they had come.

"What are we going to do with her, Hawkins?" Sarah asked gently. "Drop her at some village where she'll just be a runaway, to be found by the water-seer later or left out on the street to starve? Take her back to Sanctuary? What can we give her there? She'll have to be hidden away, end up turned into someone's science project."

"No, I... I don't know." Ezra voice came out weakly. "I just thought... anything would be better than that. You saw how that water-seer looked at people. Like... like she was pricing them out, determining what they were worth and filing the number away. They weren't people to her, they were just things, and she–"

"We understand Ezra," Mat said, glancing back at him seriously. "But you know this kid can't handle herself alone, and we can't be there to hold her hand. What about her family, huh? You think that water-seer's just gonna back off 'cuz her prize got kidnapped? What do you think she'll take from them now?"

Ezra's imagination treated him to an image of the water-seer storming back into the inn and ruthlessly killing the sickly little boy in his mother's arms. He shuddered. "I... I just don't know." He looked over at the girl as she wailed into the night.

"Struck it," Mat continued, "we can't even take her back to the wormhole; can't let her know it's there. And we're not taking her with us, that is not an option." His voice took on a faraway sound. "Sanctuary's no place for an outsider."

"Just give me a second to think, okay? I'll come up with something." Thunder crashed as he stared out at the ground whizzing by over the side of the skiff, illuminating the translucent, glowing liquid spraying out into the darkness. Ezra blinked down at the trail stretching out behind them. "Uh, Mat?"

"That was fast," Mat snorted, "this should be good."

"No, no, I mean, not yet," Ezra stammered, then took a deep breath. "Mat, where are the fuel cells for the skiff?"

Sarah gave him a confused look. "They're in the same place they always are, a bank along the right..." Realization washed over her face. "Mat," she said cautiously, eyes still glued to Ezra, "how much fuel do we have?"

"Oh, thundering blighted water-seer." Mat's voice came back in disbelief. "She must have hit our reserves in that attack. We've got maybe another two hours. Tops."

"What can you tell us?" Ezra asked quietly.

"Well, the good news is it's biodegradable." Something hopeless entered his voice. "And hey! So are our bodies! So when the thundering seer gets through with us, at least we won't be leaving a strucking negative footprint behind."

"That's not what we were asking–" Sarah began.

Mat made a cutting gesture. "I know," he sighed quietly. "We've been going pretty hard for a while now. Away from the portal home, too. If we turn back now and beeline for it, we'll still be looking at a five mile hike in this." He gestured angrily at the sky that was still intent on drowning them. "Blight and thunder," he muttered, struggling out of his waterproof poncho and throwing it back to the shivering little girl. She flinched away from it, then pulled it around herself in jerky motions, her cries devolving into pathetic little hiccups punctuated with the occasional heart-wrenching sob. "She wouldn't make it," Mat continued softly. "We'd have to detour toward Southedge, assuming we can get past the crazy seer behind us. It'd take fuel, too. Double our walk. Ten miles. Rough, unknown terrain. In the rain. In the dark. With an elementalist trying to kill us." He swallowed hard. "I just don't see how–"

A black wall rose up out of the darkness in front of them. Mat swore loudly as he tried to pull the skiff away from it, but only managed to slam them into the barrier broadside instead of hitting it head on. The jarring impact threw a very surprised Ezra out of his seat and clear off the ship, only to send him rebounding harshly against what felt like solid stone. A huge black shape hurtled out of the night, landing heavily on the skiff.

Sarah had a gun out, trained on their assailant and shooting before Ezra could catch his breath. Mat's sword flashed in the darkness, darting for the giant's leg. It came away missing the top third of the blade. Sarah's bullets didn't even make the monster flinch. It rolled one massive hand and bands of earth shot from the wall, wrapping around her waist and arms and pulling her against the stony surface, pinning her in place. Ezra found his feet and jumped up as the huge figure caught Mat's second slash barehanded and threw him from the skiff with effortless ease.

Kelly let out another terrified sob from where she had fallen, somewhere behind Ezra. He glanced down, surprised to see his own sword held ready in his hands. Lightning flashed, and Ezra clearly saw the spire of gray stone protruding from the crown of their assailant's head, smaller stones hovering majestically in a loose circle behind it.

The earth-crowned's eyes took in the situation: the skiff idling against the wall, Kelly crying on the floor, Ezra facing off against him. His voice rumbled, quiet and implacable, an edge of anger sharpening the words as one enormous hand clenched into a fist. "What is the meaning of this?"

#  Chapter 26

## The Calm Before

"You can't take her," Ezra snarled as he tried to think of anything that would give him an edge over the earth-crowned. "I don't care what the water-seer told you, we're protecting this girl. There's no way that you're getting her away from–"

"Save me, earthen lord!" Kelly bolted past Ezra and grabbed on to one of the giant's brawny legs, clinging with terrified vigor and burying her face against it.

The huge elementalist absently placed one hand on the girl's head, and some of the tension left his shoulders. "What water-seer?" he asked, voice still tinged with menace.

"The... the one who sent you after us," Ezra mumbled, unsure of himself. His mind began racing. If the earth-crowned hadn't been sent after them, then this was what... a random coincidence? The big man could have heard Kelly crying, then jumped to the wrong conclusion and come to her rescue. And that would mean... "You're here to protect the girl!" Ezra blurted out, pointing emphatically at the elementalist.

The crowned glanced down at Ezra's sword, now only inches from his chest, and growled. Ezra's eyes widened and he hurriedly dropped the weapon. "No no no, I didn't mean to... look, we're on the same team, okay?" Ezra gestured toward the little girl still clamped on the man's leg. "You need to get her somewhere safe. There's a water-seer behind us who demanded Kelly as payment; you have to believe me, we're just trying to save her from a life of slavery." He looked around at their battered skiff. Sarah was straining against her restraints, still pinned to the wall. Mat was nowhere to be seen, down in the darkness below the skiff's edge. The rain had moved to the friendlier side of a downpour, but it was still coming down. "Also, I'm going to need you to let us go. We can lead the seer off, but we have to move, now."

The ground rumbled ominously around them as the elementalist shook his head. "That," he emphasized the word, "will not be happening until I understand what is going on here. And even were I to let you go..." One huge, bare foot kicked the skiff, setting it rocking as the thrusters tried to compensate for the impact. "Your Besmirched abomination is not welcome in Beloved territory. It was forfeit the moment you crossed the border. I'm afraid that–"

The water all around them, on the ground and in the air, jumped as another pulse raced through the night, interrupting the earth-crowned. Ezra glanced around frantically, realizing that the seer was nearly upon them. He had to say something, do something. "Okay," he began, speaking rapidly, "what if I told you that we weren't... Besmirched, or whatever? What if I told you that we were here to protect people, and that we came from–"

"Hawkins, shut up!" Sarah hissed at him

Ezra just kept going. "The Forbidden City. We watch the world outside. When elementalists – you know, people like you, or the water-seer – people with power, when they abuse it, we come and set things right." The rain had subsided to a soft pattering, the clouds above beginning to lighten. "By whatever means necessary," Ezra finished quietly.

The crowned giant opened him mouth to say something, then glanced around, inspecting Sarah's gun, Ezra's sword, and the skiff critically, a contemplative look on his face. Ezra pushed his advantage. "That's why you need to let us go. We're trying to help people, just like you, and we can't do that if you're stopping us."

The big man gave Ezra a long, appraising look. From behind Ezra, Sarah shouted, "Hawkins, get down!" She had somehow worked her arm free of the rocky restraints. Ezra hit the deck just as the little pistol barked three times, muzzle flashing in the growing light. The earth-crowned moved to shield Kelly with his body, but he needn't have bothered. Sarah wasn't aiming for him.

The shots very nearly caught the seer by surprise as she rounded a nearby hill. At the last second, however, she stumbled back on the wave she was riding and kicked up a shield of ice, losing momentum but stopping the bullets cold.

That was all the time Mat needed. Ezra saw him dash forward, lobbing something toward the seer as he yelled, "Ezra, sword!"

The earth-crowned glanced worriedly back at the water-seer, and rumbled, "Now wait just one–"

Ezra scooped up his blade and lofted it to Mat just as some kind of sonic explosion thumped through the early evening. The wave that the water elementalist had been riding abruptly exploded into tiny droplets, sending her plummeting toward the earth. She gasped, but made an odd swooping gesture with both hands as gravity claimed her. From all around, water leaped up, solidifying into a ramp of ice beneath her feet. The seer slid gracefully to the ground, lips peeled back in a snarl of rage.

"Peace, lady seer," the giant intoned. "There's no need for–"

Evidently, she didn't hear him. No sooner had her feet touched down than she spun, robes billowing as her legs kicked into the air. The path of ice she had ridden to safety shifted back to liquid, following her kick and flying toward Mat in pressurized blast just as he deftly plucked Ezra's sword from the air. The earth-crowned spat a curse and lifted one hand in a stopping gesture. A spire of stone jutted up in the water's path, safely diverting it away from the young man.

Mat stared at the barrier in shock as Sarah's gun sounded again. The seer twirled, deep blue eyes wide in fear as she tried to dodge, hands reaching for any water she could pull to protect her. For a split second, Ezra felt the thrill of victory... but every bullet veered from its course, striking the ground just below the skiff and throwing up little showers of mud and wet dirt.

"Enough!" the earth-crowned roared. Behind him, Ezra heard stone shift and slide, and suddenly the enormous, solid wall that had stopped their skiff dead flowed like liquid, crashing in a wave around them all. Earth moved unnaturally around his body, pushing and encasing him. Ezra's head broke the surface, and he looked around wildly to find Mat and Sarah, also encased in rock to the neck, on either side of him. The skiff was gone, buried beneath the flood of earth. Some ten meters away, the water-seer was struggling against similar restraints. She threw her head back and screamed in frustration as the cloud cover broke, letting in a few rays of sunlight that set the last drizzle of the storm sparkling.

Ezra watched in awe and terror as an enormous throne of granite rose up silently from the ground, forming a triangle with the furious seer and the Sanctuary team. Set up almost like a courtroom, Ezra thought. He took a careful look around and his stomach dropped. And that would make us the defendants. The crowned gently set Kelly on the arm of the massive stone chair, then lowered himself into the seat, expression stern. His fist slammed against the free arm, and the earth rumbled in answer, a makeshift gavel.

"This foolishness has gone on for too long already," his deep voice resounded from the earth and stone around them. "We shall settle this in a civilized manner. Gaav shall preside over this case."

#  Chapter 27

## Pleading the Case

"Uh oh," Ezra breathed, watching the earth-crowned with wide eyes.

"Hawkins, what's going on?" Sarah asked carefully.

"Um... we may be on trial."

Mat stopped straining against the stones that held him firmly in place. "Wait... what? Trial? Ezra," he hissed, "what are you talking about?"

Ezra swallowed hard. "Well, from what I've read, an earth-crowned is a kind of wandering judge. They can settle disputes as they see fit, anywhere, anytime." He glanced nervously at Mat and Sarah. "Their word is law."

"So," Sarah began, hysteria coloring her voice. "We have an elementalist, trying us against another elementalist, and we're supposed to just–"

"Silence," Gaav, the earth-crowned, spoke with absolute authority. "We shall begin with opening statements. I warn you all to be truthful in your words. The earth will not abide any lies." He turned to the seer and nodded solemnly. "Lady seer, if you would be so kind, please give us your testimony."

The water-seer shot Ezra a hateful glance, then turned serene eyes back to the seated elementalist judge. "My lord," she began respectfully. "The lives of these three are forfeit. I ask that you stand aside and allow me to collect that which is the domain of Water."

"You have a contract for their lives, then. Very well, show me this contract and I shall bear witness to the completion of your duties."

The seer's cheeks flushed slightly at this. "You misunderstand, my lord. They attacked me without provocation–"

"That's a lie!" Sarah shouted. The earth around her rumbled and her face paled as Gaav glanced in her direction, frowning.

The water elementalist made an exasperated sound. "They did witness me disposing of an undesirable, and in retrospect they may have thought me to be threatening them in some way, however–" The prison of rock and earth that held her in place shifted with a horrible grinding sound. The seer gasped in pain before it settled.

"You're lying," the crowned stated simply.

The water-seer stared hard at him for several seconds. "Yes," she continued, voice cold. "I had reason to believe that they were in league with a proven criminal and was in the process of apprehending them for questioning. They fought back, using forbidden weaponry," she nodded toward Sarah. "You've seen proof of their blasphemous technology yourself. These three should be made an example of, not giving this mockery of trial." The seer spat out the last words acidly.

Gaav nodded his head solemnly, turning to the team from Sanctuary. "And your testimony?"

Ezra gulped and glanced between his teammates. Sarah was busy glaring at the water-seer. Mat shook his head in defeat. "In for a credit, I guess," he nodded to Ezra. "Your call, man."

Ezra took a deep breath and began their defense. He told Gaav about the Guild of Sundry, about how they kept watch, protected the people they could and avenged the people they were too late to help. The windstorm that killed the village elders, their infiltration of the town, and subsequent action against the would-be wind-scarred there. By the time Ezra reached the seer's entrance, he had joined Sarah in glaring at her. The storm above them had finally dispersed, and the sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon. Ezra explained the terms of the seer's contract in short, harsh statements, gritting his teeth against them. "We just couldn't leave her like that," he finished quietly. "She was good and kind and free. It wasn't right."

Gaav mulled this over for some time. "Well," he rumbled, "you certainly seem to believe that's all true. And your equipment does seem more advanced than anything I've heard of, even across the border amongst the Besmirched."

"You see," the seer hissed, "they admit to it! Violating the Pact of the Elements, imposing their–"

Gaav gestured toward the woman, and the earth around her shifted, clamping her jaw shut. His eyes were still fixed on Ezra as he interjected, "Supposed Pact, lady seer. There has never been any proof that the Forbidden City even exists, outside folklore and obscure histories."

The stones shifted again, allowing the water-seer to speak. She remained silent for a moment, eyes darting between Gaav and the trio, coming to rest finally on Kelly. A wicked smile spread over her face. "Indeed, earthen lord, you are correct. The girl, however, is mine," her voice was velvety soft, pitched intimately low. "The boy admitted as much, by his own words." She locked eyes with Ezra, holding his horrified gaze. The light pink of freshly healed skin stood out starkly across her nose and above her eye. "I have a life contract on her. These others may go, but the girl shall remain."

Gaav stared at the water-seer, expression unreadable. "So, what he said was true? You saved this child's brother, and now you will take her as a handmaiden, to do with as you see fit."

Ezra looked at the big man in shock. Kelly began whimpering softly, edging back away from the water witch. The earth-crowned couldn't be... he wouldn't...

"Oh yes," the seer breathed, eyes fixed on Ezra as her smile turned predatory. "Yes, I'm sure that the traders in Eastpoint will be very happy to find an appropriate use for a pretty... little... girl," she pronounced the words with infuriating precision and satisfaction. "I shall insist on it."

Ezra wracked his brain, trying to come up with something. "What about a, um... transference of debt!" Ezra stammered out. The thought crystallized in his mind the moment he spoke the words.

He knew what this water-seer really wanted, wanted badly enough that she would forget all about the little girl and her little town in the middle of nowhere. Gaav gave him a slow, appraising look. The water-seer allowed herself a contented smile.

"What did you have in mind?" she purred, licking her lips.

"I would..." Ezra took a deep breath, glancing around to his friends. Fury and horror were openly battling for supremacy on Sarah's face. Mat's jaw was clenched as he stared daggers at Ezra. Better make this fast, Ezra thought, like pulling off a bandage. Only one that wants to kill you horribly. Probably painfully. Probably not very fast. Nothing like pulling off a bandage at all then. "I will–"

"I believe I've heard enough," Gaav's fist pounded against the stone once more, silencing everyone. "It is the decision of this servant of Earth to rule in favor of the water-seer." He winked at Ezra as a smile played with the corners of his mouth.

"What?" the water-seer asked, bemused.

The earth-crowned turned toward her and bared his teeth. "You shall have what you have earned, lady seer," he said formally. "These three stole from you, damaged your property, and you seek redress for this wrong. I will now render my judgment."

"What I have... what?" The elementalist's voice turned sharp.

"This is my ruling. The girl made no attempt to escape her captors during their journey here, implying that she was complicit in the act. By the rules you put forth and verified in this court pertaining to her expected behavior, she must be classified as damaged goods. Therefore, in light of your heroic spirit of charity, I award you this as payment for services rendered." Gaav gestured to the ground beside the water-seer, and a pedestal of stone flowed up silently next to her. The top fell away to display a magnificent gemstone, shimmering flawlessly in the last rays of the setting sun. "Please accept this on behalf of the people of Southedge. I will personally see to it that they are made aware of what has taken place here as I see the child home to her family." The giant rose, lifting the girl easily with one hand as the massive chair sunk back into the ground, and with that the stone around the team and the seer fell away.

"You would cheat me of my price?" The seer's words were acid. The final drops of rain in the air suddenly hissed and boiled into steam, swirling wildly toward and around her. Ezra flinched as a drop on his ear exploded into vapor.

"I can assure you," the earth-crowned rumbled softly, "this is far better price than what you would receive otherwise." His tone implied that 'otherwise' would probably consist of large rocks and brutal force. Eyes never leaving the enraged water-seer, he continued. "As for the miscreants, you are correct, I must relieve them of any illegal technology in their possession." Several guns emerged at the crowned's feet, apparently taken from Mat and Sarah while they had been held.

He frowned at the weapons, then absently tore a section from the receding stone seat behind him and crushed them beneath it. Nodding, he continued, "While misguided, I judge that their actions against you were not taken with the intention of causing harm. Thus, I sentence them to three days' community service at the site of the crime, under my direct supervision, to be enacted immediately. This is my ruling." He stamped one massive foot, and the earth rumbled with a resounding boom. He began to walk past the seer, back toward Southedge, gesturing for the others to follow.

The woman stood as still as a statue, but steam and mist continued to whip around her in maddening whorls. Ezra gulped as he walked past, throwing her a cautious look just in time to see all of the water come to an abrupt halt. A small smile played over her face as she murmured softly, so that only he could hear, "Ariella."

"What?" he said, taking a step back and quickly checking himself, confused and wary.

"My name. Ariella. Please remember it." She smiled up at him, continuing wistfully. "It has been years since anyone has truly hurt me." Ezra watched, fascination winning out over terror, as the discolored skin on the seer's face repaired itself, leaving three small, artfully arranged dots of pink scar tissue just above her left eye. "I will keep this," she breathed, "to remember you by."

Eyes still locked on Ezra, she took a dainty step toward the pillar Gaav had raised, all the motion in her hips. One lightly tanned hand reached out, fingertips gently caressing the jewel on the pedestal, collecting the water droplets that formed on it. "One day, I will find you, alone, with no earth-crowned to hide behind." Her all-blue eyes drifted closed and her lips parted as a shiver raced through her body. "I will take great pleasure in discovering exactly what your life is worth. It will be slow." She raised her finger to her mouth and licked it delicately. "Exquisite." The blue of endlessly deep water peeked out from beneath her eyelashes as her tongue slowly traced the curve of her lip. "And I will want to hear you cursing my name with every breath."

Ezra stared in horrified awe as the seer, Ariella, turned and began to saunter away. Two swaying steps later, the gem-adorned pedestal exploded in a flurry of rent earth as every bead of water on and around it leaped into a slashing, hyper-kinetic typhoon of destruction. Ezra let out a shaky breath that he hadn't realized he was holding as the woman stalked away down the road.

Mat eased up and draped an arm over Ezra's shoulder, watching the water-seer disappear into the early morning. "I think you've got a shot with her, man." He punch Ezra lightly in the stomach, driving the wind from him. "Bet she's a tiger in the sack."

Sarah rolled her eyes heavenward and muttered something about ending it now as Gaav let out an explosive burst of laughter.

#  Chapter 28

## Working Hard and Hardly Working

Apparently traveling on foot was a good deal faster when the ground underneath moved forward too. They reached Southedge around mid-morning. People milled about, tracking their approach with cautious interest while surveying the damage caused by the water-seer the night before. Ezra glanced at the holes in the buildings where the seer had attacked them as Gaav marched them up to the Wellwards' inn.

"Mama! Papa! I'm home!" Kelly broke her grip on Gaav's hand and ran for the inn. Mr. Wellward, obviously still working on getting his ruined business back in order, dropped what he was doing just as his daughter hurled herself into his arms. He threw her up into the air and caught her on the way down with a joyous laugh, holding her tight to his chest.

Mrs. Wellward came down the remains of the stairs and let out a cry, then ran to Kelly and her husband. "Oh, thank you Mother, thank you!" she whispered fiercely, tears streaming from her eyes.

"Well, that's nice. Good to see everything turning out for the best." Mat nodded sagely. "Looks like we've got a bit of a walk ahead of us though. So, thanks for everything Gaav, it's been a pleasure; I hope to never see you again." Mat gestured to Sarah and Ezra and casually turned to walk out of town. "We'll just find our own way out."

Gaav's massive hand clamped down on Mat's shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. "You said you were here to help people." Gaav gestured with his free hand around the town. The inn and several other buildings were showing heavy damage from the fight the night before. A makeshift hospital had been set up behind the inn's bar and was full to overflowing with wounded people. The water-seer may have made it out of her scuffle in the bar with barely a hair out of place, but from the look of things she was the only one. "There are people to help right here."

Mat looked around, taking it all in, then turned hopeless eyes to Sarah. She shrugged and started rolling up her sleeves.

There was plenty of work to be done. Being in the company of an earth-crowned returning a little lost girl was explanation enough for the team's presence, at least as far as the people of Southedge were concerned. Three more able bodies was just too much of a windfall to pass up. Ezra found whole new groups of muscles to exhaust as he carried wood from one place to another, held planks in place for the craftsmen, and generally tried not to make a nuisance of himself.

Sarah began by helping to clear broken glass, until she caught sight of the little forge where new windows were being molded. She watched intently as the craftsman removed the first pane, tisking her tongue at the yellowish tint of the glass. "Lead," Ezra heard her mutter, "no potassium nitrate to correct it."

She gave a dramatic sigh and walked over to have a hushed conversation with Gaav. Ezra kept an eye on her while helping to hold stones in place for the destroyed well. Sarah gestured with her hands, indicating a certain size, and Gaav shrugged and put his hand to the ground, closing his eyes to concentrate.

"Carefully now..." one of the workers warned as they brought another fallen stone back to the well. Ezra shifted a bit to get out of the way.

The earth around Gaav's hand rippled slightly as he withdrew several chunks of a copper-colored metal from it. No hole was left behind, and small fragments of the mineral floated freely around his hand. Sarah deftly plucked the rocks from the air, nodded politely to Gaav, and headed to the forge.

"Aahh! Thundering hell!" Ezra was shocked to hear the explosive outburst beside him when he noticed that the stone he had been holding was missing. Ah, there it was... on the cursing man's foot.

The man and his friends gave Ezra some fairly decent scowls as they helped him hobble off to join the rest of the wounded. Ezra turned back to the well only to be spun around, pointed to the crew helping to rebuild the walls of the destroyed inn, and given a firm push. "Looks like they could use your help over there," the man in charge of the well growled at him.

That really didn't seem to make much sense, what with three of the well workers walking to the little hospital, but Ezra saw that Gaav was moving toward the inn as well. Perfect, he thought smugly, just the opportunity I've been looking for.

He sidled up to Gaav as the huge man effortlessly lifted a support beam and crossbar into place. Ezra quickly jumped up onto a nearby ladder and help steady a connecting beam. The woodworker who had been juggling it along with a hammer and handful of nails gave him a thankful smile as he began securing the rest of the structure. "So, Gaav," Ezra began nonchalantly, "when did you first realize that you were an earth-crowned?"

Gaav didn't bother to look at him as he answered, "Earth commanded that I see to the needs of the people. I was crowned and went forth to do his will."

Ezra looked at him sceptically. "Earth? You mean like... the ground, it spoke to you?"

The giant snorted. "In a way, perhaps. I was chosen by Earth himself, lord of the deep places, nurturer of our crops, defender of our..." Gaav glanced at Ezra. "You aren't paying attention."

"No, no, I am paying attention! But you're making Earth sound like some kind of–"

"No, you aren't paying attention!" the earth-crowned said urgently, gesturing above Ezra's head. He took a step back to see what the big man meant, and promptly fell off his step-ladder. The beam he had been supporting, only partially secured, swung around and knocked the woodworker off his perch, sending him to the ground in a boneless heap. Gaav released the support beam, placed one massive foot on the bottom of the ladder, and caught the loose piece of wood before it could tear free and fall on the downed man. He brought it back in place, grunting with effort as the ground surged up to hold the beam he had dropped before it too could fall. Mrs. Wellward helped the stunned woodworker up and shooed Ezra away.

He stumbled backwards, muttering apologies and trying to stay out of the way until he bumped into someone. "Here he is!" Mat's voice boomed out as Ezra spun around. "Just the man I was talking about." Mat stood with his shirt off, leaning against a wall with a half-finished cup of water in hand. A pretty girl of maybe twenty with reddish blonde hair was giving Mat's chest a wickedly sensuous look, cradling a pitcher of water lightly against her chest. The condensation was doing... interesting things to her rather prodigious bosom. "You should have seen him stand up to that water-seer, staring her down like she was nothing at all." He finished off his water and threw an arm over Ezra's shoulder. "He pulled out his sword, and growled at her, saying, 'Your days of putting a price on life are over!'"

"He actually said that to a water-seer?" the girl purred, her eyes slowly running over Ezra's body as his face started to heat up.

"Well," he stuttered, "well, maybe, you know, not quite tha–"

"Right to her face, with the rain whipping around and her snarling at him like a mad cat!" Mat interrupted him smoothly.

"You're so brave," she gave him the kind of smile that Gal saved for when she wanted to make him blush. It had the desired effect.

"Oh, you wouldn't know it by looking at him," Mat punched Ezra lightly in the stomach, "but my boy here's got the kind of guts they write songs about. Course, you can't blame him, what with me teaching him a trick here and there." Mat smiled lopsidedly as he let Ezra go. "And let me tell you, honey," he handed back the cup and softly caressed the girl's cheek as she turned her gleaming, almost hungry eyes back to him, "I know every trick there is." Gently, he pulled her forward. She growled and dropped the jug, spilling water everywhere as her arms twined around Mat's neck, crushing her mouth to his.

Ezra blushed even harder and tried to find somewhere safe to look.

The girl released his teammate, slowly and luxuriously bending to retrieve the fallen water pitcher, eyes burning up at Mat's chest from behind heavy lids. She swayed away, obviously appreciating the stares Mat and Ezra were giving her, caressing the edge of the building as she shot a hot look back at them before vanishing from sight. Mat blinked a few times, then turned to Ezra, who had abruptly realized how thirsty he was, staring forlornly down at the spilled water. "Well," Mat said, scratching his chin, "guess I need to be more careful with these small-town girls." He slapped Ezra on the back and laughed. "Enough lollygagging around, Ezra. You're gonna make us look bad!" And with that, Ezra was thrust back into the bustling town.

Mat hung around to help with the manual labor until noon, when he saw the overworked physician attempting to close up a wound where one of the other workers had torn a few crude stitches. Mat scowled and wiped his hands clean with an antiseptic-soaked cloth that he produced from a small pouch on his belt.

With a grunt, he brushed the beleaguered healer aside and deftly removed the remaining stitches, pulling a small tube from a pocket with his other hand. "This'll sting," he muttered as he squeezed a small line of the substance out into the wound then quickly pressed the sides together. The injured man winced, but when Mat released him he looked down in awe as his skin literally knit itself back together before his eyes. "Get lots of rest and try to stay out of spatial distortions," Mat rattled off as if by reflex, then caught himself and grinned wryly, "but I guess that won't be a problem for you, huh?"

The physician, once he had recovered from the shock of modern medicine, wasted no time in appropriating Mat to help with the injured, losing himself in Mat's explanations of bone setting techniques and general field knowledge of infections and disease.

The local doctor was studiously watching at Mat's elbow when Sarah whistled Ezra over to the forge. "I need someone with steady hands and a little manual dexterity," she murmured as she removed a thick pot of glowing liquid from the furnace. She gestured to the other set of tongs, which Ezra promptly grabbed and used to help her steady the load. They carefully maneuvered their cargo to the window molds nearby, where Sarah paused for a moment and gave Ezra a flat look, nodding down at the pot between them. "You mess up even a little bit here, and I will personally make you drink this." He gulped and spent every ounce of concentration he had on getting the molten glass out of the pot in good working order. And away from Sarah. Getting it away from Sarah was also high on his priorities.

He spent the rest of the day assisting at the forge. He measured out bits of what remained of the mineral she had gotten earlier, after it had been thoroughly baked into a white powder. Potassium carbonate, or pearl ash, as Sarah had called it. He mixed it with the rest of the glass substrate and fed it into the furnace, or helped pull out liquid glass that was ready to be poured. Sarah shouted directions to him every few seconds and generally terrorized him throughout the entire process, taking over any difficult or especially involved part with brisk efficiency.

The sun finally set on a physically and mentally exhausted Ezra, sitting in the dirt, ignored by a crowd of burly, grizzled old men loudly exclaiming over the clearest glass they had ever seen. Sarah stood smiling proudly, her hands on her hips as several of them begged her to marry this son or that cousin. He was eventually hustled into the newly repaired inn and given a bowl of something hot, a piece of bread and some cider. He numbly ate his meal, carefully moved his dishes to the side, and fell face first to the table, fast asleep.

#  Chapter 29

## A Daring Escape

Ezra woke to an urgent prodding in his side.

"Hawkins," came Sarah's harsh whisper, "time to go."

He yawned and looked around at the darkened inn, stretching and wiping drool from his face. "Is it morning alrea–"

Sarah's hand clamped firmly over his mouth as she brought her finger to her lips. "Not that we aren't all having fun, but we've got a long walk ahead of us, and I don't see two days spent here cleaning things up making it any shorter."

Ezra met her eyes and nodded. She removed her hand and he carefully made his way to his feet. It took a few tries. Sarah scanned the room while he worked out where all of his limbs were. "Where's Mat? He isn't answering his communicator," she whispered, "I thought I saw him eating with you."

Ezra blinked at her a few times while his brain came online. "Yes, eating. There was... food?" He vaguely remembered something about food, he was sure of it.

Sarah seemed to be doing some kind of calculation in her head, then she made a disgusted sound and ghosted through the room and out the back door. Ezra followed, more like a zombie than a ghost, but quietly enough that no alarm was raised in his wake. Sarah stalked down the road, glancing at each house until she found one that seemed to satisfy her. She knelt at the door, pulled something out of her hair, and deftly began picking the lock.

"Wait here," she instructed tersely. "Let me know if anyone starts moving around. This will only take a minute." The lock sprang open and Sarah disappeared silently inside.

Ezra looked around nervously, and shivered, wiping his nose with one arm and sniffling. "I'm getting a cold, I know it," he muttered.

"As interesting as that is, please try to act like you're keeping watch out there," Sarah's sarcastic reply came over his communicator. Ezra promptly shut up.

Just under a minute later, Sarah stormed from the house, blushing a deep red and dragging Mat by his ear. Mat was wincing and hopping along, trying to pull on his pants, when he spotted Ezra and flashed him an enormous grin, dropping his pants to give two enthusiastic thumbs up. "Jenna Haldis and her sisters really have a thing for dark strangers. Get a little sun on you, and I think you've got a shot." Ezra stared at Mat, dumbfounded, as Sarah released him in disgust and stomped toward the edge of town.

Mat finished getting his pants on and trotted to catch up to Sarah, laughing under his breath. Ezra realized he was getting left behind, rubbed his nose again and ran after them. Mat looked up at the night sky and let out a sigh of contentment. "Never see stars like that in Sanctuary. Kinda makes you wonder why we–"

Mat fell on his face. Ezra probably would have found it funny if something hadn't just grabbed his ankle, tripping him as well. Sarah caught herself and spun, then looked incredulously down at their feet.

They were all chained to the ground by shackles of solid stone.

"It really is beautiful, just after a rain," Gaav's voice rumbled at them from just off the road. There he sat, legs crossed and hands resting lightly on his knees, looking out toward the blight line. "I sentenced you to three days' labor, so I can only conclude that you came out to enjoy the night air."

Mat cleared his throat as he stood up and tested his restraint, then peered off toward where the earth-crowned was sitting. "Gaav? Is that you? You must have come out here to check on any residual damage too!" He took an exaggerated look to the left and right. "Well, this part of town seems pretty secure. Yep, looks like everything's just fine." He gave a theatrical yawn and stretched. "Oh well, early day tomorrow, we should probably just turn in. Enjoy your night air, Gaav." Mat took a step back toward town, but the stone manacle didn't budge.

"Well," Gaav said, slapping a hand to his knee, "I wouldn't want you to miss the sunrise. I can assure you, it is quite a sight to behold." He rose, clasped his hands behind his back and started walking back toward the inn. "You'll have to tell me how it was in the morning. Have a pleasant evening." He nodded to them as he strode past.

Ezra pulled his knees up and rested his head against them. He sniffled loudly. "Yes," he said, "definitely coming down with something."

==

"I told you I was getting sick."

They were back at the inn, their stone shackles having disintegrated a few hours after people started moving around in town. The other two were taking entirely too much pleasure in Ezra's unfortunate circumstances.

"They not give nanos to you Legacies or something?" Mat grinned as he checked Ezra's temperature. "I swear they take care of little things like this."

"They said that exposure to space shorted them out or decompression messed with a thingy and now they won't work or something," Ezra grumbled back at him, stifling a sneeze."Never seemed like a big deal until I spent three thundering days sitting in the rain freezing my blunted–"

"Blighted," Sarah corrected seriously as she fought a smile.

"Thank you. Freezing my blighted ass off in the middle of nowhere. So you can both go strike–"

"Struck," Mat interjected as he looked through the contents of a small pouch.

"–struck yourselves for all I care. And that doesn't even make sense," Ezra concluded miserably.

A booming laugh made them all jump as Gaav strolled up. "The mouth on this boy. Better make sure none of the Sons or Daughters hear you, or they may think you're lacking a sound religious upbringing." He chuckled as he picked up Ezra's discarded dishes from the night before.

"This'll help with the fever," Mat said, dropping a pill into Ezra's hand, "but you'll just have to tough the rest of it out."

"Thank you," Ezra grumped, "well, guess we better get started." He got to his feet and started reaching for a nearby hammer.

"No!" Gaav, the local physician, and several men nearby all shouted at Ezra in unison. He froze, not sure what to do.

Gaav cleared his throat and gave a small, encouraging nod to the others, who slowly sat back down, watching Ezra warily. "What we meant was that..." The huge man looked around and his eyes lit up. "You're sick! Yes, yes, you look very, very sick. And we wouldn't want you to strain yourself."

"Bad for the healing," chimed in a man by the bar.

"Wouldn't want it to spread," the physician volunteered gravely.

"As if he hasn't already sent enough people to the–ow!" A man with a well-bandaged foot came down with a sudden case of elbow-to-the-side. "I mean, uh, gotta think of your health, young lad like you."

"We'll just have to get by without you for the day." Gaav placed a conciliatory hand on Ezra's shoulder. "Try to get some rest."

"Excuse me." Sarah got up, walked to the bar, picked up a cup and brought it to her mouth. Choking sounds of poorly stifled laughter immediately began coming from behind the cup as she looked back at Ezra, her eyes dancing in merriment.

"I could use a little air," Mat said as he sprinted for the door. The whole town heard his guffaws the moment he was outside.

Ezra looked around the room, then sniffed loudly again, grumbling as he shuffled toward the stairs.

#  Chapter 30

## Always Look On the Bright Side

Ezra sat in bed staring out the window. It was sunny out. Of course it was sunny out, now that he was stuck in bed. And sick. Who got sick anymore? People with partially decompressed bodies who ended up outside of Sanctuary running around in the rain, that's who. He sighed. Well, on the plus side, at least he wasn't hauling around lumber.

His eyes wandered around the landscape until they came to rest on the blight line. Tiny rivulets glistened in the sunlight as water ran off the slick black surface, pooling here and there, throwing back the day's brilliance in odd colors. It stretched off to the horizon, just endless, lifeless, blasted land as far as the eye could see. "How did you get there?" he whispered to himself.

"You don't know?"

Ezra started and turned to see Kelly standing in the doorway with a bowl of broth for him. She looked concerned. "Everyone knows about the blight. It's in the Will," she explained as she handed Ezra the bowl, "and the Son of Lightning who comes every few months, he always likes to remind us of it."

"I must have missed that lesson." He gave her a hopeful smile.

The little girl nodded and closed her eyes, reciting, "And in those days, Fire did stir the hearts of men to wickedness. And then did Lightning descend to deliver them from their sinful ways. 'Out,' he commanded in a voice that shook the heavens and made the earth cringe, 'you shall not corrupt my people!' And Fire did come forth against him. But mighty Lightning cast her away, driving her across the land. And the line of blight was carved across the face of the world, that all may look on it and know the truth." She smiled up at Ezra. "I can remember the Will real good."

"That is very impressive, Kelly. Do you think you could tell me more about the Will later?" Maybe this mystery religion was the key to whatever Gaav had been talking about the day before. He had to find out more.

"Well, you're sick, so I'm not supposed to bother you," she dragged the tip of her foot across the floor, the very picture of a bored kid. "Plus I have chores to do, and papa says we need to make sure Daniel's eating lots 'cuz he's real skinny."

"That's all right," Ezra smiled, taking a sip from the steaming bowl, "maybe next time." He blew on the broth to cool it down.

Kelly nodded, eyes fixed on the wall distractedly, then she skipped to the door. She paused there, half out of view, and said, tentatively, "Ezra?" she waited until he looked over at her. "Thank you." She quickly vanished through the doorway, her footsteps retreating down the hall to the stairs beyond.

Ezra smiled to himself. Maybe he really didn't need to find out anymore right now. Maybe he knew just enough.

==

"I wish I knew how to do something useful," Ezra grumbled as Mat and Sarah joined him with their lunch.

"What do you mean?" Mat asked between bites of what looked like a real pork sandwich. Ezra had never even heard of anyone eating real pork anymore, just the recycled and synthesized stuff he'd known all his life. He scowled at his teammates. They were getting all the good food, too.

"You know, like all that medical stuff you can do. Where did you learn that?" He turned to Sarah as she idly picked apart a baked potato. "And where did you learn to make glass? Does the Guild have some kind of special training program that I don't know about?"

Mat laughed. "The Matananes have always been in medicine, man. I'm the black sheep of the family with my electrical engineering obsession." He took a long drink of water. "But I know just enough to get by. You should see what my sisters can do with a needle and some string. It's practically art compared to my bone sawing."

"It's a family tradition that we learn to work with our hands and make things the old fashioned way," Sarah shrugged indifferently. "Back when Finley Hughes founded the family, he told his son, 'If I can't trust you to make something mankind has been making for thousands of years correctly, how can I trust you with the secrets that make our family great?'" She snorted out a laugh. "Of course, we didn't have many secrets back then, but the tradition stuck."

Ezra shook his head. "I don't know how to do anything useful or special like that."

Sarah gave him a quizzical look. "You're joking, right?"

"No, I really wish I had spent some time working with my hands or picking up a trade. Maybe when we get back to Sanctuary you guys can show me a thing or two–"

Mat grabbed Ezra by both shoulders, interrupting him. "Ezra, I'm going to say this slowly so you get it: you are the only person alive who knows how to make wormholes. You regularly bend what the rest of us see as the absolute laws of physics, and play with space and time like they were made just for you."

"Well, yeah," Ezra squirmed uncomfortably, "but you know, that's just math, a little science, really. Anyone could do that."

Mat and Sarah looked at each other for a moment, then burst out laughing. Ezra couldn't help but join in after a few seconds. "I'm sure you'll find some way to help," Mat said breathlessly.

Sarah wiped tears from her eyes as she stood up. "Come on Mat, some of us have 'special' things to do, things that mere wormhole craftsmen couldn't possibly understand." She patted Ezra's leg and hiccuped a little as they walked from the room. "Can't do anything useful." Ezra heard her choke out in the hallway, followed by a fresh round of howling laughter from Mat.

Ezra rubbed his eyes and stared out the window again, following the streams and pools of water coming off the blight line for the thousandth time. He reached the edge and frowned as he caught a glimpse of water running past the rocks and toward town. On closer inspection, he saw that hundreds of tiny streams were flowing across the already soaked earth. In fact, there were men down at the town's edge piling up sandbags to hold back a small but incessant flood. Ezra suddenly had an idea.

==

Mat and Sarah returned with dinner to find Ezra on the floor, industriously working to fill it with painstakingly exact equations and diagrams. Mat followed the trail of Ezra's work across the floor and up the wall next to the window, letting out a low, impressed whistle. "That sure is a lot of... well, a lot of something. Where did you even get chalk?"

Ezra finished his line, swiveled his head to glance at his friends in the doorway and blinked at the food. "Oh, thanks." He grabbed the plate from Mat's hand and began tearing into a slice of bread as he consulted the display on the wormhole controller, which he had appropriated for some of the more demanding calculations. "Now I think..." He glanced out the window and made a deft adjustment. "Yes, this should just about do it." Keying in the final variable brought up a holographic display of a grid, various sectors highlighted and numbered across its surface. "That'll be enough." He nodded to himself in satisfaction, meal already forgotten.

"Ezra," Sarah said slowly, "what are you doing here?"

"Oh, hi!" he said brightly to Mat and Sarah, as if seeing them for the first time. "Well, I was thinking, and like you said all I really know is the physics behind wormholes, so I thought to myself, why not try to map out the area of the town? Given the semi-random division of buildings as a sector map, it was fairly trivial using Higgs boson resonance. Since my wormhole generator already searches out the most likely quantum tunneling route, it was practically a joke to use it for something as mundane as mass estimation. But you see, it all comes down what we know about earth-crowned; Gaav in particular, along with the fundamental composition of the earth under the town. From there, it was just math. And I can do math!" He grinned proudly up at them from his place on the floor.

Mat reached forward and placed a hand on Ezra's forehead, frowning. "He doesn't feel much warmer than this morning," he muttered quietly to Sarah, "but maybe his brain cooks at a lower temperature than a normal person's."

Sarah sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I get that you're very proud of... something here, Ezra. But some of us have been working hard all day and would have appreciated a place to sit that isn't covered in chalk." She held out the cup she had brought along and dropped it, splashing Ezra with cider as it hit the floor, then turned and left.

"Don't you see?" He turned to Mat, confusion and excitement flashing over his features. "I mean, I know I can't do the kind of things you guys can do, but I solved the problem! It really wasn't that hard, once I looked at it from the right–"

"That's nice Ezra," Mat patted Ezra on the head and chuckled a little. "See you in the morning." He closed the door on his way out.

"Well then..." Ezra looked over his calculations again, absently toying with the cup of cider. A grin slowly spread across his face. "Stand back everyone," he whispered to himself, "I'm going to try science."

#  Chapter 31

## Chalkboards

"Gaav," Ezra whispered, "Gaav, you awake?" The giant didn't stir. Well, Ezra thought, it's not like I was very loud. I wouldn't be surprised if he just didn't hear me.

"Hey... hey Gaav, are you awake? I need to ask you something."

One of the earth-crowned's eyes slowly opened to glare at Ezra. "Ezra," he rumbled menacingly, "is the sun up?"

Ezra looked out the window, then realized that it was facing west. He checked the display on his wormhole device. Two in the morning. "Well, somewhere it must just be..." He trailed off as Gaav literally growled at him. "No, no the sun is not up."

"Then why are you?" Gaav rolled over so his back was to Ezra.

"Wait, I need to ask you something! When we first ran into you, you had raised a wall of rock in front of us. Well, maybe it wasn't all rock, I mean you could have supplemented the internal composition with some sort of substrate mixture to make it more flexible, since you didn't know how heavy the skiff was or what kind of momentum it was carrying. Or we could have been weaponized! There might have been some kind of force field running to keep things like giant walls of rock from stopping it, but many little impacts from gravel or sand could have overwhelmed the inertial compensators and then–"

"Babble in the morning," Gaav groaned, "just go somewhere else now."

"But in the morning there will be lots of people who want to talk to you, and this is really important, so I just thought that I should–"

"Other things are important too. Like sleep."

"And I know that what everyone else has to say is important too, but I really think you're all missing the big picture here. We have a chance to really help these people by doing something that they couldn't do for themselves–"

"Ezra!" the earth-crowned snapped, sitting up abruptly and turning toward him. Ezra shut up. "I will answer your question or listen to... whatever that was in the morning. Good night." Gaav laid back down and deliberately closed his eyes.

Several moments passed in silence. "You're not going to leave, are you?" the earth-crowned asked in a defeated tone, eyes still closed.

"Oh," Ezra got up from the floor, dusting off his pants, "Sorry, I can wait in the hall."

Gaav sighed. "I don't think I could get a decent sleep now anyways." He rubbed his eyes and yawned. The bed protested loudly as he sat up, swinging his legs over the side and resting his feet on the floor. "Yes, I raised a wall to stop you. I don't know about the other things, it was just a wall from whatever rocks and clay were in the area."

"Clay! I should have thought of that, but that makes sense... so, in total, you must have moved, what..." he pulled up his holographic display and started adjusting variables, "Six, six and a quarter cubic tons?"

"Holy Mother of the Elements!" Gaav swore, leaping back and knocking the bed against the far wall.

"Yes, yes, I know." Ezra made some consolatory motions with his hands. "The cubic ton is an antiquated measurement, but it seemed like a good way to look at it, especially considering I'm estimating here to begin with. I mean, it was dark and raining, plus we were running for our lives. But using something with some real meaning would have been lending a feel of accuracy to my calculations which are, at best, educated guesswork. And my father always told me, if you're going to estimate, use made-up units so that everyone knows you're only estimating." He shrugged. "But I can see how that would upset you. I don't even want to think about what Sarah would do if she heard I was throwing around a term like 'cubic tons'. I've heard the stories about the Hughes Legacy and solid measurements."

"No... what?" Gaav pointed at the hologram floating above Ezra's generator. "That, what is... why is it glowing like that? Is this some sort of..." He looked around the room warily, then fixed Ezra with a piercing stare. "Are you tampering with the laws of nature?"

"Tamper..." Ezra glanced down at the display in front of him. "Oh, this? It's not like... well, no, I guess you wouldn't have... look, it's just like a, um...chalkboard! You know what a chalkboard is, right?"

Gaav nodded his head carefully, eyes darting to the wormhole device in Ezra's hand.

"Yes, you see this is just like a chalkboard, where I can put down ideas and keep track of things. Just a tool. A really good tool. I mean, it'd have to be, what with finding quantum pathways to tunnel through the fabric of reality at the drop of a..." Ezra watched as Gaav began to tense up. "Chalkboard! Just a fancy chalkboard, that's all! Look!" He waved his hand back and forth through the display. "Just a little light, nothing to be afraid of, completely harmless." He gave Gaav a winning smile, holding the controller casually.

Gaav took a deep breath and blew it out. Pulling the bed over with one hand, he took a seat, eyes still fixed on the display. He gave a weak laugh. "You know, I honestly thought you were just out of your mind with the whole Forbidden City story until right now."

"Heh, yeah...wait, you did?" Ezra gave Gaav a confused look. "Then why did you...?"

Gaav returned Ezra's look, then spoke slowly, as if to a child, "It was the right thing to do."

"Oh," Ezra looked taken aback, "well, good. I mean, thank you." A smile bloomed on his face. "Speaking of the right thing to do, how much earth can you move?"

==

Mat and Sarah found Ezra just north of town, engaged in a furtive discussion with Gaav.

"I'm not doubting that you can move that much safely, but how are you going to account for the shift of the underlying layer..."

Gaav cut him off with a wave of his hand, smiling cryptically. "Have faith."

"Faith," Ezra snorted, "is a placeholder for understanding. Now, there are things that I don't understand that I'm willing to take on faith. Super solids. How my brain physically works. Where dust bunnies come from. But people apparently do this all the time. You do it all the time! No-one is hiding that knowledge! You have to understand that when you're displacing that much mass the energy has to come from somewhere. You can't just expect things to work like they've been working, you have to learn, discover, examine. Think like a scientist!"

"You really hate not understanding things, don't you?" Gaav chuckled as he glanced over at Mat and Sarah. "Is he always like this?"

Mat chuckled. "Sometimes he's unconscious. I hear a firm smack to the head does the trick." Sarah demonstrated the smacking technique.

"Ow," Ezra rubbed his head, then his eyes lit up. "Oh, good, you're both here. Listen, we should get everyone outside the town." Gaav made a disgusted sound. "Just to be on the safe side." Ezra said, a little more loudly than was necessary.

"Fine, you have ten minutes; I'm not missing breakfast for this." Gaav grumbled as he sat down. The earth rose to meet him halfway, creating a simple chair.

"Ten minutes... get everyone out..." Mat gave Ezra a concerned look. "I don't like how this sounds. Sarah, do you like how this sounds? This doesn't sound good to me."

"Hawkins, you still have a fever. What are you doing out here?" Sarah lifted her foot and regarded it with disgust. "Why are you standing around in the mud? Did you even sleep?" She shook her head tiredly. "No, wait... don't answer. I'm afraid of what you might say."

"Come on," Ezra started pushing his friends back toward the waking town. "I'll explain on the way."

#  Chapter 32

## Proof of Concept

Sarah breathed into her cupped hands to warm them, then looked around at the morning sky and the tree line in the distance. "It's a nice morning," she murmured. "We don't get mornings like this back home. I could get to like this."

"Yeah, yeah, it's lovely," Mat said distractedly. "So he's just going to lift it up." He eyed the empty town from the front of the partially awake crowd of villagers.

"Yeah, he says he can do it all in one go," Ezra answered, sounding doubtful, "but according to my calculations," he pulled out his wormhole device and engaged the display, "the energy required for something like that would be..."

Someone gasped behind them. Sarah somehow managed to step hard on Ezra's foot, elbow him in the stomach and slap the back of his head, all while covering the console and hissing, "Take that out again, and I will shove it so far up your ass that you won't see it again for a month."

"Oh, right, sorry," he quickly disengaged the hologram and stashed the technology. "I was just showing..." Sarah glared a little harder and twisted her heel harder into his foot. "N-Nothing," Ezra gulped, "sh-showing nothing." Mat chuckled under his breath.

"All right." Gaav's voice carried over the crowd. "Let's finish this and get on with the day." He knelt down and reverently placed his hand on the ground, head bowed. As the big man was only a few feet away, Ezra was close enough to hear him murmur, "Earth, protector of all, who sustains us when we are weak, grant me strength to lighten the burdens of those here." The front few rows of townspeople whispered, "Let it be so."

Gaav remained motionless for a solid two minutes, then suddenly nodded his head and stood. His right foot lifted and stomped heavily to the ground, then slid outward, widening his stance as his hands came to rest at waist height, palms upwards. With a grunt he lunged a half-step to the right, striking out. The ground in front of his foot suddenly began to pour downwards, shifting like sand in an arced line, shooting out around the town. He took a huge step forward and repeated the motion to his left, sending another line arcing around the other side of the town.

The Sanctuary team gaped.

Gaav stepped back and centered himself again, eyes closed, a slight smile playing over his craggy features. He waited, completely still, until both concentric lines had finished racing around Southedge and joined up with their starting points. Ezra inched forward to examine them. They were precision cuts in the earth, a few centimeters wide and most of a meter apart, sharp edges leading down to untold depths. Gaav's eyes snapped open. "Right," he said softly, exhaling and nodding to himself again.

He slowly drew in a breath, lifting his hands. With them, the entire town rose. There was no rumble of displaced rock, no grating of stone straining against stone. It all happened in almost complete silence. In fact, the only sound Ezra later remembered hearing was Gaav's slow, measured breath. At about twenty five centimeters, Gaav made a quick pushing motion, then once again lifted his arms. The platform came to rest for a moment, then the inner platform began to rise, creating a small step. Gaav glanced to the road off to his right, flipped his right hand over and brought it down. A ramp formed over the steps along the road at both ends of town, smoothing the way in and out. He gently made a wiping motion with his left hand, and the cuts in the earth filled in, leaving seamless steps up from where they stood with townspeople.

Sarah sank to her knees. Mat took a numb step forward, pulled a flask from his shirt, unscrewed the top and took a shaky drink. He looked down at the flask, then up at the earth-crowned, nudged him and held it out. Gaav smiled broadly and took a generous swig before handing it back.

Ezra watched the ground intently as the tiny rivulets of water running off the blight line behind them found a wall of rock and clay in place of an easy way into Southedge. He looked around with a stupid grin on his face, then yawned loudly. Gaav's smile exploded into a huge laugh as he thumped Ezra on the back while the townspeople cheered. A few of the men Ezra had seen piling sandbags the day before were dancing gleefully in the mud, while many others came up to offer Gaav their heartfelt thanks. Ezra beamed around at everyone, then lowered himself onto the step. He was asleep before he touched the ground.

==

"Fine then! Just leave!" Ezra was startled awake by the sudden shouting, his chair rocking back and balancing just long enough for him to see Jenna Haldis slap Mat squarely across the face. The seat overbalanced and tipped, depositing Ezra on the floor. The scowling girl gave him a disgusted look, then stormed toward the tavern door.

"She, uh, needed some personal medical attention the past few days," Mat said sheepishly, rubbing the side of his face. "I guess she got a little attached."

"And I never want to see you again!" she screamed, slamming the door behind her. Mat winced.

Two young women with the same reddish hair prowled up on either side of Mat, trailing their fingertips across his shoulders. Ezra rubbed sleepily at his eyes, recognizing one of them as the girl with the water pitcher.

"But if you are in town, be sure to stop by," one of them purred.

"We always enjoy entertaining creative young doctors," the other whispered huskily as the first brushed a kiss over his cheek. They each gave Mat a smoldering look, then turned and swayed across the room after their retreating sister.

"I'm going to miss this town," Mat moaned forlornly, eyes glued to the young women. "Ezra, if I asked nicely, would you go break something so we can stay another day or two?"

"Pervert," Sarah muttered darkly, shouldering past Mat and heading for the door.

Mat helped Ezra to his feet and pushed a traveling sack into his hands, sighing as he shouldered his own pack and followed Sarah outside. Ezra hurried after them and out into the mid-day sun, struggling to secure his pack as he went.

Sarah stood squinting critically at the windows, then shot a glance at a group of nervous looking young men near the forge who were watching her intently. Ezra saw his opportunity to lighten the mood. "Looks like you've got some admirers of your own there, huh?" He nudged Sarah playfully with his elbow.

She glared at him, then growled, "Ugh, show them one trick and drink a couple of them under the table, and suddenly everyone thinks I'm some wanton barmaid begging for their attention." She stomped off toward the forge, scattering the group, Ezra and Mat hurrying to keep up. A gruff looking old man was carefully wrapping up a few glass figures as they approached. He handed them to Sarah with a nod, then went back to his work. She smiled wistfully at them, then dropped her pack to the ground to secure them inside.

"Um, Miss Sarah?" A boy had broken away from the pack and stood shifting from foot to foot, hands behind his back. "I know that you have somewhere to go, and I know that you must have suitors with money and power," he blurted out, "but, well, I... I wanted to give you this token of my affection!" He thrust a freshly picked flower out toward her, eyes scrunched closed and head bowed.

Sarah sighed loudly and took the flower. "My, how lovely," she said in a completely flat voice, "I imagine that you have something else to say." She rolled her eyes as she picked at the flower's petals.

Obviously emboldened by her acceptance of his gift, he looked up and gave her a bright smile. "Well, I know that you turned down Phillip Thompson, but you see, I'm different! My father owns this whole smithy, and, well, that is, grandpa said that you're like a goddess of the forge come down from heaven to us, and that any girl with half your fire is more woman than he's ever seen. And, you see, I was wondering if maybe you could stay for a few more days and you and I could, um, you know, get to know each other a little better or–"

Sarah laid a hand gently on his shoulder, interrupting him. "Maybe you should go tell your grandpa to come talk to me himself," she said in her gentlest voice. The boy began to squirm as her grip tightened. Her gentle smile turned brittle as she continued to talk through clenched teeth. "Then he and I can have a nice long talk about how much fire I have."

The boy yelped as she squeezed for a moment then released him to scamper away.

"I swear, if one more thundering idiot proposes to me because someone's blighted grandpa told them that I was a woman like no other, I'm going to bind every one of his skin cells to a high density geosynchronously stable carbon helix then laugh as planet's rotation tears them to little tiny bits." She continued to detail what Ezra could only assume were even more dreadful fates. Fortunately, he lacked the knowledge of material chemistry to understand them.

A thump sounded behind Ezra, then a huge, meaty hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. He felt a moment to panic before he was crushed in a hug by Mr. Wellward. After a few air deprived moments, the big man released him, then patted him firmly on the shoulders and grunted, nodding to several enormous sacks of potatoes at their feet.

"Oh, uh, there's really no need," Ezra wheezed, "I mean, after everything that happened..."

"No, no dear," Mrs. Wellward bustled up, shooing her husband back toward the inn. "We really just can't thank you all enough. After what you did, getting our little girl off to lord Gaav and having him speak to the lady seer about things, it's really the least we can do. Can't have folk saying that the people of Southedge don't honor their debts." She pressed a firmly wrapped loaf of warm bread into Ezra's hands along with a jar of some preserves, babbling incessantly all the while. "And after all the hard work that you put in, it's really the least we can do, the very least! I'm just glad that you cleared up that little misunderstanding, fine young people like yourselves. Now you take care and drop by again some time. Really, just skin and bones on you, like you never ate a decent meal in your life." She poked at Ezra's ribs to demonstrate, making him lose hold of the jar.

Ezra juggled the jam and bread, somehow managing to save both, then glanced around sheepishly. "Um, about what Kelly may have..."

"Oh, and the imagination on that girl, you wouldn't believe!" Mrs. Wellward continued as if he hadn't spoken. "Fighting with earth-crowned and water-seers, flying around on a sky ship like some kind of wind-scarred pirate!" She lowered her voice conspiratorially. "She must get it from my husband, bless his heart, with all those elaborate bed time stories. He just doesn't know when to stop, chattering on all night. Why just last night, I had to go and pull him out of that room my very own self, and I told him, sometimes you just need to be quiet and let these things work themselves out instead of filling a little girl's head with nonsense. Because that's all it is, nonsense, right?" She gave Ezra a pleading look.

"That it is!" Mat stepped in and elbowed Ezra, making him fumble his armload again. "But you know how children are, always exaggerating their stories." He smiled and shook his head. "Life was certainly a fine adventure at that age." He gave the Wellwards a dazzling smile, then spun and snatched the bread and jam from Ezra, tossing the jar to Sarah. She caught it deftly, glanced at Ezra and giving the potatoes a meaningful look.

Ezra blinked at her, then the potatoes, then sputtered in dismay, "What? No! That must be a hundred pounds of..." He looked appealingly at Mat, who barked out a laugh and started walking away. "But, but I've been sick! Bedridden!"

"A whole day sitting around in bed," Sarah drawled, shaking her head, "can't let you get soft now, Hawkins."

Gaav strolled up just then and casually picked up two of the sacks. "I believe I'm heading the same way you are," the earth-crowned rumbled, "and this seems a fine day for a little walking." Without any particular effort, he scooped up the third sack and tossed it to Ezra, nearly knocking him over. "Perhaps I can help with your burdens for a time."

Ezra sighed and lifted the heavy sack up to his shoulder. Just as they turned to go, Kelly came running out. "Wait!" she cried. Panting to catch her breath, Kelly bowed respectfully to Gaav, whispered a quiet "Thank you" to Sarah and Mat, then glared at Ezra. "You better come back and take me on a real adventure," she told him. "And I'll want to know what kind of magic you were doing in that room too. Deal?" She stuck her hand out.

Ezra grinned at the little girl, then solemnly shook her hand. "Deal," he said, then, without another word, turned and headed down the road.

About twenty steps out of town, Mat jostled Ezra lightly. "Look at you, two times out of Sanctuary and you're already stealing girls' hearts."

"Your little girlfriend's gonna be pining after you for years, Hawkins," Sarah chimed in, laughter in her voice. "Especially with a dramatic exit like that. I'm surprised she didn't swoon."

Ezra glanced over at her. "Well," he said self-righteously, "we can't all be fiery, grandpa wooing goddesses of the forge, you know."

Sarah punched him in the arm. Hard. Ezra yelped and dropped the potatoes while Gaav and Mat burst into uproarious laughter, slapping him on the back as they walked past. Ezra grinned, picking up his sack of potatoes and jogging to catch up with the others, heading home.

#  Chapter 33

## So Sharp You'll Cut Yourself

"Agent Hawkins conversed with the earth-crowned about their religion, something called the 'Will of the Elements', for most of the trip back. We left the man about five miles out from the wormhole, sir. Took a round-about path back, just to be sure he wasn't following. Thanks to the intelligence Agent Hawkins was able to procure about his abilities, I think we can safely say that the location is secure." They stood at attention before Mr. Blair's desk as Mat finished his report with crisp efficiency.

Mr. Blair stared at the team in silence for a tortuously long time. Then he drummed his fingers and continued staring. Each moment under that gaze felt like hours, or maybe days. Ezra was pretty sure that he would suffer severe dehydration if he had to sweat it out for much longer. Just when he was sure that he would break under the pressure of that stare, Mr. Blair spoke.

"Miss Hughes, would you please explain the rationale behind taking the girl from the tavern after you had effectively escaped the water-seer?" His voice was completely level and perfectly calm. Too calm, if you asked Ezra.

"Sir," Sarah somehow managed to stand up straighter as she answered, "the girl was a target of opportunity. Agent Hawkins made the choice to lure the seer away from the town by any means necessary. While I did not agree with the tactic at the time, in retrospect it was probably safer to draw her out and deal with her than to risk further confrontation around the civilians, sir."

Blair's gaze shifted to Ezra, who suddenly found it difficult to breathe. "Was this your motivation when you grabbed the little girl, Mister Hawkins?" he asked mildly.

Ezra gulped. "Well, uh, sir... the girl was clearly in trouble, sir. I merely, um, tried to help her as best I could, sir."

"And what did your fellow operatives think about this decision?"

Decision may have been too strong a word, Ezra thought, and we were all a little busy trying not to die. "Well, Sarah didn't seem too–"

"And did you consider the potential ramifications for the town you were sent to protect?" Mr. Blair's voice became harder as he spoke.

Aside from getting a little girl safely away from a monster? "I, well... no, but sir–"

"And when you told the earth-crowned about the Guild of Sundry, about Sanctuary, about the last bastion for those of us who would not bow down to the rule of those like him and the water-seer who was actively attempting to kill you all." The words came out cold, biting. "When you let them know that we not only still survived, but were influencing their society and working against them, did you consider that maybe you should have found some other way to clean up after yourself without creating the potential for another war that could destroy us all?"

"No sir," Ezra said quietly, eyes fixed on the far wall.

Mr. Blair sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. When he spoke, his voice sounded far more human. "I'm not blaming you for what happened. It was a bad situation, granted. You did what you had to do to help the people in front of you, I understand. But four days with no communication." He gestured for them to be seated. Ezra collapsed into the padded chair with relief. "A complete snafu from the start. I'm honestly disappointed. Mat, Sarah, you know better than that. You should have called in for support immediately. And Ezra," Blair shook his head and smiled wanly, "your heart is in the right place. I just wish your head was there too. Let me outline this for you." He got up and moved to pour himself a cup of coffee from the nearby pot. It smelled divine.

"You acted in self-defense against the water-seer. That's good, correct, and you should all be congratulated for making it out alive. However, when you intervened in the seer's life transaction, you went too far. We cannot save people from themselves or their choices. Consider the following. Say that a year from now, an epidemic strikes the town of Southedge. Normally, they would send for help from one of the temples where the water-seers live and train. These are the only official medical facilities outside of Sanctuary. What do you think would happen next?"

Ezra winced. "Well, I imagine that the temple would send help of some kind, but they might be slow, or uncooperative, or–"

Mr. Blair raised his hand from the desk, gently shaking his head. "No. In the town of Southedge, a water-seer engaged three unknown assailants who not only injured her and stole her property, as it was agreed upon with the involved parties, but who were later invited into the town, given food and lodging, and generally treated like heroes. They will never receive aid from the Temples of Life again. You saved a little girl, and that is admirable. But you doomed countless others in the future. Do you understand?"

Ezra looked down at his hands. He... well, he hadn't considered anything like that. Why hadn't he considered anything like that? Ezra silently berated himself for not thinking things through properly. Sure, he had been a little distracted by the water-seer trying to kill him and all, but honestly, he expected better of himself. Cause and effect; a scientist should always consider the cause and effect. "I understand, sir," he murmured, feeling rather small and foolish.

"Now, this earth-crowned, Gaav," the unremarkable man continued, sounding weary, "he does not seem like the type who would cause us trouble. I would honestly like to shake his hand and buy him a drink. However, imagine that someone else buys him a drink, or two, or ten, and he gets to talking about the most incredible few days that he spent with actual people from the Forbidden City. About the wonders of which he was told and shown. About what it is we do. And this other man tells his friends, who tell their friends, until someone who remembers the last time we went out into the world hears about it, and they decide to come and finish what they started five hundred years ago. You say that you have some measure of his power. How long do you think we would last against twenty earth-crowned like Gaav? Against a hundred water-seers? Against an army of fire-kissed and wind-scarred?"

Ezra continued to stare diligently at his hands and said nothing. There was nothing to say. He had put all of them – not just his team, but every person in Sanctuary – in danger from the outside world, and his imagination treated him to exactly how much danger that was. Mr. Blair finished his drink and sighed again. "We'll have to begin actively searching out any rumors, trying to deflect them. It's going to mean paperwork, reports to the Chancellor, and diversions of manpower. And worst of all, I don't know that I can trust you to help in the field."

"But sir!" Mat and Sarah both half rose from their seats. Blair silenced them with a stern look. Ezra stared ahead mutely. This was all his fault.

"Consider yourselves off active duty until I've had to time to fully review the incident and come to a more permanent decision. I'll expect a full mission report from each of you within twelve hours." His eyes softened a bit. "Mat, Sarah, I'll be needing your help here, with maintenance, training, and, of course, paperwork."

Mat and Sarah exchanged a brief look then replied in unison, "Yes sir."

Mr. Blair nodded. "Ezra, I believe you have research materials available to you. I suggest you apply your new found appreciation of the world outside to the questions you've raised about our opponents. Understood?"

"Yes sir," he responded, feeling numb.

Mr. Blair shook his head sadly one more time and pulled up a screen in front of him, which he immediately began working on. "Dismissed."

#  Chapter 34

## Conspiratorial Emotions

The group changed back into their normal clothes in an uncomfortable silence. Ezra cleared his throat and began, "Look, guys–"

"Oh, good," Sarah interrupted him, sarcasm thick in her voice. "Ezra has something to say. I wonder what amazing things will pour from his mouth this time." She angrily kicked the bench.

Ezra felt his face flush, but he did his best to stay calm. "I probably deserve that, and I just wanted–"

"Yes, you do deserve that!" Sarah shouted him down. "You deserve it because you wanted to go play the hero, to show that you're better and more clever than everyone else! I hope you're happy."

"Well it's not like you were doing much better!"

Mat placed a firm hand on Ezra's shoulder. "Just drop it man."

"No," Sarah's voice came out a little hoarse, her eyes wide with fury. "No, I want to hear what the great and powerful Ezra Hawkins has to say. Go on, tell me how I wasn't helping! Tell me how you knew better after one whole mission!"

"Maybe I did!" Ezra yelled back, brushing Mat's hand aside. "What were you going to do, huh? Sit there and wait for the water-seer to catch us? Fight the strucking earth-crowned? Let her drag that little girl off like an animal?"

Sarah's fist caught Ezra's jaw, shutting him up and sending him sprawling to the floor.

"Whoa, hey!" Mat jumped between them, holding Sarah back. "Cool it, cool it. Bad things happen, okay?"

"This was my life!" Sarah screamed at Ezra. "This was all I had left! After my family, and Rob, and... and everything! And you just came in here and ruined it! Do you understand, Hawkins? Are you happy now?"

"I-I'm sorry." Ezra blinked away tears and stars, holding his jaw as he looked up at Sarah, regretting his words, and not just because she'd hit him. "I'm sorry, alright? I didn't know... I-I didn't think–"

"Yeah, you didn't think You never think, do you? You already have it all. But that just wasn't enough, was it? You had to take what was mine too!"

"Sarah, listen, calm down." Mat's voice was cautious, soothing. "It's gonna be alright. I mean, bad things–"

"Shut up, Mat," she snarled at him. "You're just as mad as I am and you know it. Bad things like this don't just 'happen'. This has never happened! Don't you get it? It's over. We're going to be stuck in this stupid bubble with people like him for the rest of our lives and there's nothing we can do about it."

"What else can I say?" Ezra asked quietly. "What more do you want?"

"Want?" Sarah's voice cracked. "What do I want? I want to get away from you damned Legacy tyrants. I want to have never gone on that stupid mission. I want to have seen that thunder-struck bastard five seconds earlier. I want–" Her voice broke with sobs. "I want Rob back." She stood there, shaking with fury and grief, a tragic, broken thing. "And I want to never see you again." She whirled and staggered away, wiping at her eyes.

Mat watched her leave, his eyes hooded, fists clenched. He let out a long, shaky breath, then offered Ezra a hand. "Give her time, man. Just... just give her some time." Mat shook his head as he pulled Ezra to his feet, picking up Sarah's things along with his own and heading out of the room. "Give us all some time." The door whispered shut behind him.

Ezra stood there, glaring down at the bench he and his teammates had shared. He wondered if his day could possibly get any worse.

==

As it turned out, it could.

Ezra arrived home to find a very agitated Kirsten O'Donnell pacing the front hall. "Ezra! Good, I'm glad I caught you." She spoke in an urgent, hushed tone. "You didn't..." She squinted at his face, a spectacular bruise already blooming on his jaw. "Did you get into a fight? Of course you did. Who did you talk to? Tell me what you said immediately."

"I... what? Talk to? No, no, I just got back, and I haven't seen anyone since I left Mat and," he paused, remorse catching him off guard, "and Sarah."

Kirsten paid his morose tone no mind. "Well, that's something anyway," she muttered to herself. "Now look, I know you've been busy with," she glanced around surreptitiously, "with you-know-what, but I'm a little distressed with your apparent lack of concern, considering the situation. I've been trying to contact you for days. Were you in a shielded facility? Why didn't you return my messages? I've managed to hold them off for as long as I can, but they're here right now, and I–"

"Wait, what?" Ezra pulled up his net transmissions and saw his in-box was full of urgent messages from Kirsten starting the day after he'd left. "Kirsten, I don't know what you're talking about."

"You don't... how..." She clenched her jaw, grabbed Ezra's hand, and pulled him toward the kitchen. "Come on, quickly!" Ezra was dragged along after her, through the kitchen, down the stairs, into the pantry, then out a secret door behind what Ezra always assumed were some decorative barrels. How had he lived here all his life without knowing that they had a secret door? A small spiral staircase led down to another hidden door, which opened for them.

No sooner had he stepped through than the false wall behind him clicked closed, and he suddenly found himself squeezed into a closet-sized room with Kirsten. Her body pressed against his as she turned to place one serious finger over her lips, then cracked open a door opposite to where they entered and peaked out. Ezra's heart was racing as he tried to beat down his libido. He kept telling himself that he was not attracted to Kirsten O'Donnell, but all he could think about was her trying out that stretch that Mat had shown her. She put a hand to her chest, took a deep breath, and let it out in obvious relief. He only noticed because, as a scientist, he took a keen interest in his surroundings and, to be fair, Kirsten's heaving bosom was the most interesting thing surrounding him. In his surroundings! He needed to get out more. Or less. He wasn't sure.

Kirsten opened the door and stepped out into a hallway on one of the lower levels. Ezra looked around and recognized it as a storage section where they kept family heirlooms and keepsakes. "It should be safe to talk here," Kirsten said, all business. "We'll hear anyone coming down from the main hall when the far door engages."

"I..." Ezra shook his head, wrangling his thoughts back into something resembling coherence. "I... wow, um... so we have a secret passage?"

Kirsten folded her arms and began drumming her fingers in irritation. "Ezra, I can see that you've clearly had a rough day, but I honestly don't know how you can be so clueless about the past three days. The warrant is all anyone has been able to talk about."

"Warrant?" Ezra blurted out. "Like, for my..." He looked around cautiously, then dropped his voice lower. "For my arrest?"

Kirsten froze, staring at him in disbelief. She closed her eyes and whispered, "Oh what did I do to deserve this?" Her head snapped back up as her intense eyes locked on his. "Ezra, listen to me very carefully. The Department of Ordinances and Lawful Temerity is holding their elections for chief commissioner in just over two months. One of the officers running for the position has decided to be a sort of 'people's hero' and has targeted the Legacy houses, trying to rally support from the grunts. I was aware of his position but didn't see much of a threat until the space station wormhole misfire the morning after you left for your project."

"Wormhole misfire?!" Ezra felt his face go pale. "Oh no. No no no... what did it do? Did it dump out into space? The structural damage to the Sanctuary Center must have been enormous! I walked right by there today and didn't see anything wrong, but I-I wasn't looking. Oh this can't be happening... how many people died? Kirsten, I can't–"

She clamped her hand over his mouth and gave him a warning look. Without removing her hand, she continued. "The misfire prevented a scheduled jump to the space station when one of the power couplings shorted out." Ezra sagged in relief. "The generators poured power into the Center's converters, but it had nowhere to go and fed back into the rest of the gateway system. Two thirds of the network went down, severely disrupting commerce for nearly six hours before the automated system restore found the problem and got everything rebooted. Before I could even begin to do damage control, there was a warrant out for a general search of the premises for anything of a suspicious nature in relation to the accident. I've been able to keep them out by pretending to sympathize and because no-one could get hold of you to open your lab. They haven't been able to force their way in, but I'm at my wit's end dealing with this–"

"Miss O'Donnell? You down there?" A man's voice echoed from far end of the hall as the door began to slide open.

#  Chapter 35

## It Burns Us, Precious

"Mmmm!" Ezra said in alarm from behind Kirsten's hand. Without looking away from the opening door, she pushed him back into the closet they had just come from, pulling up a data terminal and keying the door closed with a deft flick of her wrist.

"Miss O'Donnell," the man's voice was muffled by the door, but there was something familiar about it. "I thought I heard you talking to someone down here."

"Oh, no, detective, no-one here but me," Kirsten replied warmly. "Just letting off some steam while I take stock of the inventory."

"They get you cleaning up after them even while they're not around, don't they?" the man growled, much closer now. "You're wasted on a place like this." Ezra knew he'd heard that voice before, but just couldn't quite place it.

"And are you here to take me away from all this?" Kirsten asked voice playful. "Going to topple the Legacies and save all of us helpless maidens?" The door to the hallway shuddered, as if someone had just landed against it.

"I don't know about the maidens, but for you..." A horrible sucking, smacking sound came through the door, and Ezra shuddered in revulsion.

"Oooh, Mr. Jeffries," Kirsten moaned, "we shouldn't! One of your men could be here any moment."

Jeffries. That horrible little DOLT... and he was here, touching Kirsten, kissing her while pinning her up against the... Ezra desperately searched for a way to open the hidden passage from his side.

"Relax," Jeffries chuckled, "we're still looking for a way into that little Legacy punk's lab. I told them to take a long lunch. As far as they're concerned, I'm just too dedicated to the case to let up."

"No, really, I need to finish up here," Kirsten pleaded with him, sounding reluctant. "Mr. Hawkins is due back at any time now, and I really don't know what he'll do if everything isn't in order. I can't afford to make him suspicious of me, not now."

The man sighed in obvious frustration. "You're right, of course," he grumbled. "We have to put the needs of the people above our personal... needs." Ezra gagged as he fought not to be sick. "But we'll get him, just you wait. Did I tell you that I had the little weasel, had him practically crying for his mommy when those government types swooped in and pulled him out of there? Makes me sick. They think they can just push us around, just because mommy and daddy did a little science. I knew he was up to something, I just knew it. And when you and I blow this case wide open... oh, I'm going to cherish the look on that pompous little Legacy's face, and then it's straight to the top. And people will say–"

"Shh! Be careful!" Kirsten hushed him mid-speech. "He has spy devices all over, you have to watch yourself here."

"Oh, uh, right... yeah, spy devices." Jeffries suddenly sounded nervous. "I mean, of course he needs spy devices! They're all afraid of their own shadows, you know, every one of them. That is, uh," he continued in a much louder voice, "you just let me know if you have any problems, Miss O'Donnell. The Department of Ordinances and Lawful Temerity is always at your service."

"Thank you so much for all your help detective. Or should I say, commissioner." Ezra could hear her smile as her lips caressed the title.

"Mm, I like the sound of that." There was an awkwardly long pause, and Ezra did everything in his power to keep his mind on math, psychotic water-seer assassins, exploding wind-scarred lunatics, anything more pleasant than whatever Jeffries was doing in that hallway. "I'll see you later, Kirsten." His stomach demanded that he either kill his imagination or remove his ears immediately. He was considering the best way to tear them off when Kirsten opened the door.

He stepped out with care, watching as Kirsten calmly entered data on her nebulous screen. She didn't look up as she asked, "I trust you understand the gist of what you're up against and will take the necessary steps to control the situation?"

Ezra nodded slowly, still staring at his secretary. They sat in silence for few moments. "Did you–"

"Not. A. Word." She continued typing for a few moments then stopped, shuddered, and cringed a little. She took a deep breath to regain her composure, then serenely continued, "If you'll excuse me, I have some... cleanliness issues to address. Will that be all, Mr. Hawkins?" She quickly walked into the closet and closed the door. Ezra heard a soft click as the hidden passage opened, followed by the sound of Kirsten O'Donnell being violently ill.

==

The industrial shower near the lab – in case of any chemical spills – must have run for an hour. Ezra was able to sneak in to his testing area and straighten things up fairly easily, since all of the investigators had been dismissed for a long lunch and Jeffries was off doing god only knew what. And god was the only one who needed to know, as far as Ezra was concerned. He suppressed another shudder.

After carefully securing all of his testing equipment and running a fresh encryption algorithm on his research notes, Ezra smuggled the Guild of Sundry data sheet back up to his room, hiding it underneath his personal workspace generator. Need to make some kind of secret compartment for that, he thought to himself.

Satisfied with his preparations, he went downstairs to hunt for dinner when he saw a flickering light coming from the sitting room. Does someone have the fireplace on? Ezra wondered. Curious, he peered into the room to see Kirsten, bundled in a giant fluffy pink bathrobe, curled up on a big armchair facing the fire. Her hair was down, and she held a mug of what looked like hot chocolate with both hands as she sat staring into the cheery fire with haunted eyes.

Ezra felt bad for her. It wasn't her fault that she'd ended up looking after him. And while she was a righteous terror when it came to his schedule, he knew that, deep down, she really only had his best interests at heart. So before his brain could tell him that a swift and silent retreat was in order, he found himself asking, "Is everything all right, Miss O'Donnell?"

"Oh," she exclaimed, startled, "Ezra, I didn't expect to see you again tonight." She wiped at her eyes and ran a hand through her hair. "You'll have to excuse me, I was just... it's been a trying couple of days."

"Oh, no, don't worry about it, I understand," Ezra assured her, smiling. "I'm just sorry that I wasn't able to be more help."

"I really don't know how you do it," she said softly, turning back to stare at the fire. "Four days of non-stop subterfuge with a group that you know is out to get you." She shook her head, cascading red hair swaying gently with the motion. "I could barely manage an hour or two a day with that... that man." Kirsten shuddered again and took a sip of her chocolate. "I don't know if I'm cut out for all of this intrigue."

Ezra nearly laughed out loud, but managed to turn it into a minor coughing fit. "Really? Because I can't think of anyone more suited to this kind of thing than you, Miss O'Donnell." He smirked, thinking of her flirtatious advances on Mat and Mr. Jeffries. "I am honestly amazed at your resolve and professionalism."

She sniffed loudly and took another sip from her mug. What was it she had said before? Oh, yes... "Honestly Kirsten, I don't know anyone as devious as you."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, you're just saying that," she said, then paused thoughtfully. "But I must say, it really shows you what you're capable of. Working hard for a goal. Outwitting your enemies."

Ezra chuckled as he watched the flames dance. "I know what you mean. Stressful situations, pretending to be someone you're not. Mortal terror on dark and stormy nights."

"Mortal... what?" Kirsten turned her eyes to him in confusion.

"No, uh, I mean, moral, moral terror." Ezra stammered out, thinking quickly. "Because you don't want to, you know, compromise your values just for a job because that... that would be with you forever."

"Oh, yes, of course." Kirsten smiled and got to her feet, displaying far too much long, graceful leg in the process. Ezra studiously kept his eyes focused on the fire. "Well, it's getting late, and we have a busy day ahead of us." And because he was so focused on the fire, he noticed something a little odd. Sitting slightly out of the flames, fluttering weakly, was what looked like a piece of charred cloth. "I really hope we can wrap this up quickly, Mr. Hawkins." In fact, when he looked closely, it was exactly the same color and pattern as the blouse Kirsten had been wearing earlier that day. "I don't think my wardrobe can survive too many more encounters with Detective Jeffries."

#  Chapter 36

## Hidden Dragons

The search of Ezra's lab was relatively painless. Mr. Jeffries made a big show of discovering Ezra's unmodified glider in its carrying case, and was utterly disappointed when it failed to be anything really interesting. His DOLT team poked around, he made a few wild accusations, and generally managed to eat up the morning without uncovering anything of a suspicious nature. Jeffries was scowling ferociously by the time he left at around noon, grumbling about how it was just a little too neat and tidy while his subordinates quietly apologized for the inconvenience.

Not feeling up to contacting Mat or Sarah, Ezra tried in vain to get in touch with Gal, leaving about a dozen messages before giving it up as a lost cause. He halfheartedly toyed with a theoretical wormhole hacking model he had worked up for fun, but not even the thought of hijacking an active wormhole's power source by bombarding the hypothetical connection with non-Meruvian particles held any real appeal.

He was seriously considering just going back to bed when he got a ping from Liza Crawford. Surprised, Ezra pulled it up. "Hello? Liza?"

"Oh, Mr. Hawkins! I didn't expect to... well, you know, with everything that's been happening, and no-one being able to reach you for comment and all, I just assumed that you would be too busy to... oh! Not that I think you had anything to do with what happened, of course! I was merely checking to see, um, how you were..." Liza trailed off.

"No, I'm glad you called." Ezra said, amused. "The last few days have just been so crazy, a familiar voice is like a breath of fresh air."

"Oh yes, it all must have been terribly exciting. Miss Doe told me about your..." Her image glanced around, then she leaned in and whispered, "Your project. I can hardly believe it, it's all just too incredible. A whole other world!"

Ezra froze. Gal wouldn't have... no, no she was much too responsible for that. But still... "Oh. yes," Ezra said, taking each word with care. "My... project. Um, what... exactly did Miss Doe tell you?"

"Oh, simply everything! It sounds so exciting, you and Mr. Matanane, working on your secret project for the government. Why else would you be learning to use a sword, after all?"

"Why else?" Ezra echoed.

"To blend in of course! Is it true that the dragons are as big as ten skiffs?"

"Huh?"

"Dragons!" Liza nearly shouted, then lowered her voice again, eyes darting around. "Miss Doe said that you brought her back a dragon's heart that you had to cut out yourself. And it was all made of crystal! And that you're using them to power the next generation of wormholes, and how the power problem was because you were hunting a crafty old dragon and probably had to use some modern technology, and you weren't sure how that would work out, and–"

"Wait," Ezra interrupted her. "What? Dragons? Made of crystal?"

Liza was clearly taken aback. "Well, Miss Doe said that it was only their hearts made of crystal, but I suppose you would know best."

"Liza, what are you talking about?"

"The... the other dimension," Liza said, voice hesitant, sounding more than a little embarrassed. "The one that you, a-and Mr. Matanane go to sometimes. The one that... that you discovered in your experiments? It's where... well, Miss Doe said that all of the wormholes go through it, but we pass through so fast that we didn't know and... and oh my. She was making fun of me again, wasn't she?"

"I'm afraid so, Liza," Ezra said. Stay serious, stay serious, stay serious. "The dragons we hunt are much bigger."

Liza gasped, pulling her hand up to her mouth. Then she paused, eyes narrowing. "Wait, if the dragons were much bigger, how could you kill them with a sword?" Realization dawned on her face. "Ezra Hawkins, you're making fun of me too!"

Ezra burst into a fit of laughter. It felt good. Very, very good. "I'm sorry Liza. I just couldn't help myself."

"Well, shame on you," she said stiffly. "I see that you are in a fine mood, so I shall come right to the point. Miss Doe has informed me that I am ready to have a real sparring partner. Furthermore, she has stated that your hand-to-hand skills are dreadful, and I should take it upon myself to see to your edification. I've already spoken to Mr. Matanane, and he said it would be his pleasure to spot for us tomorrow afternoon at the gym."

"Wait, what?" Ezra said, wiping tears of merriment from his eyes.

"I will be teaching you the basics of self-defense while simultaneously learning to spar with an opponent closer to my own size while Mr. Matanane supervises. It would be gentlemanly of you to accept."

Ezra blinked a few times. "And Mat said he would be, uh, pleased to supervise?"

"Well..." Liza shifted back and forth, looking a little uncomfortable. "Those weren't his exact words..."

"What, um," Ezra cleared his throat. "What were his exact words?"

"If you must know, he said that he would be pleased to see you, um, get knocked around by a girl like a, a..." She gulped. "Like a stuck-up bumpkin!" Liza slapped her hand over her mouth and stared at Ezra guiltily for a few seconds, then blurted out, "Oh please don't make me repeat exactly what he said! It took me all morning just to recover enough to send you a ping! There are..." She looked down and blushed. "There are some things that a lady simply should not say."

Ezra shook his head, smiling to himself, "I think I can imagine it, actually." He looked out the window at the setting sun, violet and pink ripples of light cascading through the Sanctuary shield around it. "Tomorrow afternoon then."

==

"Watch your feet!" Mat hooted from the sidelines.

Ezra blinked and looked down at his feet for a split second. That was apparently all the time Liza needed. In a flash she had his wrist and was pulling him forward. Ezra stumbled and tried to brace himself, but suddenly the girl was dropping like a stone, spinning as she collapsed to her knees. He felt his arm follow, then his shoulders, back, hips and legs. In the midst of the inexorable flip forward, he was awarded a glimpse of his feet rising off the ground. Oh, watch your feet, Ezra thought. To brace yourself and prevent something like that–

"Ooph," the air rushed out of Ezra's lungs as he landed flat on his back, his arm now pinned painfully above his head.

"Oh, Mr. Hawkins, I'm sorry, I thought you were in a better position and just tried to pull you a little off-balance." Liza released his arm and clutched her hands to her chest, the picture of a distressed lady. "If I'd known that you were going to suddenly look down like that, I never would have attempted such a dangerous move."

Ezra coughed weakly and turned his head to glare at Mat. The huge grin on Mat's face said it all, but he still called out, "Because you want them on the ground! Your feet!" He pointed to his own foot as if talking to an idiot. Ezra groaned.

Liza frowned at Mat. "Maybe that's enough for today, Ezra," she said gently. "You've taken quite a number of falls–"

"Fifty-two!" Mat trumpeted. "That's the number of times she threw, tripped, pushed or pulled you flat on your back." Ezra frowned and started counting in his head. "You fell for no real reason another six times," Mat added helpfully.

"Mr. Matanane, please!" Liza sounded exasperated. "I know that young men bond over confrontation and the occasional harsh word, but I really don't think you are accomplishing anything with your incessant teasing at poor Ezra's expense."

"Oh, don't worry, it's accomplishing plenty," Mat said gleefully as Ezra put a hand to his forehead.

"It's okay, Liza." Ezra still sounded a little winded. "I just need to catch my breath for a minute. You go on ahead."

Liza gave him a worried look, then gracefully rose and bowed. She began to take her hair out of its braid, as she frowned seriously at Mat. "You'll take care of him, won't you Mr. Matanane?"

"Oh, I'll take care of him all right." Mat still wore a pleased grin.

Liza gave Ezra another concerned look, to which he responded with a weary thumbs-up. "Well, I'll see you both tomorrow then?"

"Wouldn't miss it." Mat gave Liza an elaborate bow, then grabbed Ezra's raised arm and pulled him roughly to his feet. "Phew, but this boy needs a shower. Not everyone can perspire as beautifully as you, Miss Liza."

Liza blushed a bit and rolled her eyes. "Mr. Matanane, please." She easily wove her way through the gym like she'd been born there, exchanging pleasantries with various persons on her way out.

Mat watched her go with pride while Ezra glumly headed for the showers.

Halfway through getting dressed, something clattered onto the bench next to Ezra. Startled, he glanced over and saw a practice sword lying there. Mat leaned against the nearby lockers, casually inspecting his nails. "Just 'cuz we've got a little time off, doesn't mean you get to go soft on me. And frankly, what happened out there today was just too embarrassing. Foot work exercises for a month, and I want to see you escape at least one throw before the week is out."

Ezra looked at him, hope budding in his chest. "Then, you're not–"

"Man up, Ezra," Mat cut him off, laughing. "Guildsmen don't mope." He punched Ezra in the arm on his way to the door. "Just don't let Gal know that her girl slapped you around so bad! I'll never hear the end of it!"

#  Chapter 37

## Pretty Pictures

After that, Ezra's life fell back into a comfortable rhythm. Early morning hand-to-hand practices with Liza and, once she was back, Gal. Breakfast at home while he caught up on whatever news Kirsten found appropriate or applicable. Research until lunch, keeping up appearances in case Miss O'Donnell got suspicious. Sword training with Mat later in the day. True to his word, Mat had Ezra practice his foot work until he was certain that nothing short of divine intervention could get his feet tangled. Liza was happy to disabuse him of that certainty each morning, but according to Gal, Liza was some kind of ass-kicking savant, so he stopped feeling too bad about it.

It was almost enough to make him forget that he was a prisoner.

"At least you have stuff to do," Mat grumbled during a training session a few months into their captivity. "Mr. Blair's got Sarah and I stocking supplies, checking maps, and running maintenance on weapons this week." He sighed dejectedly, catching Ezra's swing and sliding a step in, forcing him off balance. Mat arced two lightning fast fakes at Ezra's head and knee, only to snake a devious thrust at his mid-section. "But that's not even the worst of it," Mat scowled as Ezra somehow managed parry the thrust, skipping back a step. "Sometimes he has us monitoring incoming calls from field teams. It's bad enough being stuck here, without the constant reminder, you know?"

Ezra readied his practice sword, keeping an eye on Mat's center. "How, um... is Sarah doing... well?" he finished lamely.

Mat launched into a series of sweeping strikes. Head! Shoulder! Knee! Torso! Shoulder! Ezra backpedaled, trying to stay ahead, and Mat gave him a sad little smile. "Give her time, man." He turned aside Ezra's counter attack with a flick of the wrist and swept his legs on the back-swing. Mat shook his head. "It just takes time."

Outside of the gym, Jeffries was a constant nuisance. When he wasn't making wild accusations as publicly as possible, he was hunting down anyone who knew Ezra and pumping them for information. He once arrested the cook for no discernible reason and held him for twenty four hours, then released him with a cryptic message for Ezra about wanting to see him sweat. Every new crime in the city was suddenly traced back to the Hawkins estate, and every one of the detective's visits ate up hours and left Ezra feeling drained and disgusted.

Most nights were spent with the mission reports, with Ezra trying and failing to find a some missed fact or noticeable pattern behind the elementalists. That is, until Gal discovered that taking her out to upscale restaurants and social functions was, as she put it, 'a necessary and previously neglected part of his cover story.' It seemed like every other night found him at some new and happening night spot, Gal looking glamorous on his arm as she whirled him through a blur of overindulgent Legacy parties, vintage movie screenings, and extravagant galas that would make even the most jaded socialite weep tears of joy.

Ezra hated it.

"Wait, I just need to get to the end of this report!" he protested when Gal came to pick him for some art exhibit opening at the Webatorium.

"Ezzy," she said seriously. "I don't think you're taking into consideration just how much this dress flatters my legs." She pointed to where the hem stopped, right around the top of her thighs.

About a minute later, Ezra managed to tear his eyes away from her gorgeous legs. Had she asked a question? And why was he changing into a dress shirt? He glanced over at the mission report next to his bed. "But," he moaned in despair, "this report deals with a water-seer. If I'm ever going to have a chance out there I'll need to know everything I can about them."

Gal impatiently tapped her foot, pulled up a time display, and rolled her eyes in disgust. "Fine, I was hoping to save this for a special occasion, but I guess now will have to do." A teasing a little smirk inched its way across her mouth as she stalked forward. "Take me to see the web comics of the early twenty-first century," she whispered, the gleam in her eyes making his pants shrink two sizes. "And after," she ran her hands over his chest and clasped them behind his neck, pulling her body against his and nuzzling his neck. "I'll help you find religion," her voice was an irresistible coo in his ear. The scent of her threatened to rob him of his sanity, and he found himself helping her into the skiff waiting outside before he realized what was going on.

Three hours later, Ezra was staring at a three panel comic in mild confusion. "I don't get it," he told Gal, who was busy beaming at everyone and everything while sipping champagne. "I thought this was supposed to be a," he consulted the pamphlet he had picked up near the door, "'slice of life' comic. Did Gabe really own a unicorn?"

"Ezzy, please," she hissed at him out of the side of her mouth, smile still fixed firmly in place. "It's not about the content. It's about the concept." She laughed lightly and fluttered her hand in a psuedo-wave at someone out in the crowd. "Just like this party. I can't imagine all these people are really that interested in..." Her eyes scanned then room, then she gestured to the far wall. "Stick figures with amusing captions and an unpronounceable name."

"That's probably just a bad translation."

"It's about being seen, about the concept behind the art that gave it substance and meaning." Gal took another sip of her drink, then glanced speculatively at a nearby exhibit, considering. "Except for the one with runt and the devil girls. That artist was a visionary."

==

"Oh," Ezra said, looking down. "This is... nice."

"I really wanted to do something special for you, Ezzy," Gal purred.

"Yeah, um, it really is... special." He gazed forlornly at her little dress. It really was a very nice, flattering dress. Shame about how she was still wearing it. Ezra sighed in defeat. "Thank you, Gal. I never even thought to expect it."

"And that's how well I know you." She nodded self-assuredly, then stretched her arms up, fluid and sensuous and irresistible. Her eyes cracked open and she gave him a knowing smile. "Enjoy the... book." Gal sauntered down the walkway away from Ezra's house, blowing him a kiss before climbing into the skiff and disappearing into the night. There was just no winning with that girl.

Ezra shook his head and walked inside, glancing over the worn cover of the book Gal had left him. The Will of the Elements. He didn't know how she had gotten her hands on a copy of the religious manuscripts from the outside world, but he recognized the significance. Gaav had insisted that his ability to move and shape the earth around him was rooted in this religion. This book could contain the secret to all of their powers. Some kind of ritual that they performed to awaken latent potential, maybe? The human brain was capable of so much more than the meager use mankind put it to. Or it could be some sort of indoctrination process that people with powers went through during their formative years. That would explain Gaav's blind devotion to his god, as well as the nearly universal belief in some mother goddess that was mentioned throughout the mission reports. He had even witnessed it himself; two very different towns, every single person thanking earth for a bountiful harvest or fire for the warmth they were sharing.

Ezra was about three pages and thirty conspiracy theories into the religious text when the house announced that someone was at the front door. His heart leaped into his throat. Had Gal changed her mind about... things? He quickly straightened his shirt and brushed at his hair as he raced for the door. Just the thought of her in that little dress, pouting at him, made his heart race.

He threw open the door to find... Sarah. Glaring at him. Ezra flinched back, falling into one of the defensive stances Mat and Liza had drilled into him without thought. "Sarah... um... hi?"

Her icy blue eyes stared at him in annoyance for several seconds, then she jerked her head to the side. "Come with me."

#  Chapter 38

## Robert Ralson

There were certainly nicer bars in Sanctuary. Ezra knew. Gal had danced him through most of them. The place Sarah picked out didn't have any fancy lights announcing it to the world. There was no music pumping life into the air. In fact, there weren't even any other people, aside from the balding bartender of indeterminate age. He nodded to Sarah as they walked in.

Despite the lack of bells and whistles, the quiet little barroom was pleasant. Solid looking, polished hardwood was in abundance. Sarah slid up to the bar and Ezra took a comfortable stool beside her, inspecting the bar top closely as he did. This... this looks like real wood. He sat back, staring. He'd never even seen real, non-synthetic wood until he'd left Sanctuary. How did this place manage to get... Ezra's eyes widened as he turned to see the bartender frown at him then and Sarah an inquisitive look.

She snorted indelicately and tapped two fingers to the counter. "He's cool, Sean." The bartender, Sean, nodded again and pulled out a bottle of whiskey.

Ezra grinned. It was one of the bottles they'd brought back from Arborlin. Two glasses of the rich amber liquid materialized in front of them, and Sarah threw hers back in one efficient swallow. Ezra took a small sip from his glass. "Hawkins," she said without looking in his direction, "you drink like a man tonight, or I'll knock you out and dump that down your throat."

Ezra blinked at Sarah, then at the drink in front of him. He straightened his back, lifted his chin, and drank the liquor in a swift swallow. His throat informed him that he had just lit it on fire as he coughed and gasped, eyes watering and head reeling. Sarah smiled a little, tapped two fingers on the bar again, and their glasses were promptly refilled. Ezra carefully followed suit as Sarah took a more conservative drink this time, then stared at her glass as it rested on the bar in silence.

"We met in the catalyst lab," she began a few moments later, quietly, as if each word as made of cut glass – precious, delicate, sharp and painful. "Rob and I. Father didn't want me taking any shortcuts. Hard work and long hours, no special treatment." A sad little laugh escaped her lips. "He didn't know who I was. Thought I was just another lab grunt, mindlessly fashioning a piece for the great puzzle that only the glorious Hughes family could put together." Another sip, slowing down, collecting her thoughts. "He was just... nice. To me. Wasn't afraid to tease me or laugh when I made a mistake. He didn't worry about offending me with his music or get scared when I asked him a question. It was nice. I... I didn't tell him. About who I was. Instead, we went and had coffee and talked about things that we wanted to do. You wouldn't know, but all he ever wanted was to see the ocean. He'd read about it, seen old videos... but something about it just called to him." Sarah's eyes glistened, taking on a far away look. "We would make plans about how we were going to take the space elevator up high enough to see over the Barrier Mountains, keep going until we could see the ocean. Just the two of us. A daring adventure."

"Sounds like he was happy in the Guild."

Sarah flashed him a spiteful look. "Just listen," she snapped. Ezra took another swallow of his whiskey and shut his stupid mouth.

Sarah finished her drink and tapped her glass, then continued. "My father came to the lab one day. Expressed his concern that I 'wasn't living up to my potential.' I was terrified that Rob would hate me for lying to him... but he acted like nothing was different. It drove me crazy. I spent weeks waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to start behaving like everyone else. Then he told me his new plan for going to see the ocean, just like we were still two grunts, slaving away and dreaming our dreams." She blinked a few times, shaking her head in wonder. "I think that's when I fell in love with him."

Sarah took a deep breath and cleared her throat. "I moved up, of course. Reaction observations, super-solid theory, everything that the Hughes heiress would need to continue the Legacy. But I would always go have coffee with Rob. I was young and in love and stupid. I thought I could help him. Help him move up in the world, do more interesting things, maybe even work with me when I became the head of the family. I tried... tried to teach him things. Little things, so that he could impress his supervisors. Get out of the catalyst lab. Maybe discover something of his own. Maybe be with–" Her voice choked off and she quickly took another sip of her liquor.

It was several moments before she continued, and then it was in a small, quiet voice. "Someone overheard us talking about Choshkian bonding conditions while we waited for our coffee. Rob was fired the next day for trying to steal family secrets. A black mark. No-one would touch him; he was out of science forever. I went to him, a complete wrecking, begging him to forgive me." A thin line of tears traced its way down Sarah's cheek, pattering to the wooden bar before she wiped them away. "He said... he said there was nothing to forgive. That he'd be fine, and was just happy to know me, to know that I cared about him. It was overwhelming. That night I stormed into my father's study. I yelled at him. He yelled back. I said things... things that I shouldn't have said. The next day, he officially named my little sister heir to the Hughes Legacy. My studies were cut off, but I didn't care. Rob found me sitting on the roof of the catalyst lab, staring at the space elevator. He didn't say anything. Just handed me a coffee and sat down next to me." She glanced at Ezra's half-full tumbler, and he hurriedly emptied it, wincing as his throat burst into a fresh blaze of agony. He caught Sean's eye and tapped his glass.

Sarah nodded, satisfied. "We tried to break into the Sanctuary Center to get to the space elevator a week later. Got caught before we even made it to the first checkpoint." She raised her drink in a little salute to Sean, who smiled as he refilled Ezra's glass. "The Guild. They'd been watching, of course. Knew most of our 'big plans' better than we did. It didn't take any convincing, really. Over the next year, we watched the ocean at sunrise and sunset, gaped as it rage under a furious storm, saw it sparkle beneath a cloudless sky and shimmer on a moonless night. Together. Always together." The corners of her mouth turned up in a little smile. "There's a place out on some islands in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. A single, enormous tree, seven meters around at least, growing out of a dead volcano, surrounded by these jagged mirrors of obsidian. It lives in its own little bubble of temperate climate. The locals call it the Kayla Tree. They consider it a sacred place. Rob convinced me to climb it with him. From the branches, we could see the ocean all around on every side."

Sarah cleared her throat again and took another fortifying gulp of whiskey. "About a month before your little stunt, we went out on a routine mission." She spoke softly, eyes fixed on the bar, not looking at anything. "Trouble with a fire-kissed. Tame location, one that was checked up on regularly. We found the contact tied to a chair, electrical burns at his temples. A bunch of the townsfolk tried to ambush us, but we fought our way free." Her grip on the glass tightened. "A thunder-struck hit the skiff. Blew it to pieces. We got a smoke screen up and managed to evade him. He toasted half the town looking for us. We laid low, slipped away after dark, and trekked back to the port."

Ezra could hear her grinding her teeth. "There was another blighted thunder-struck, waiting there for us," she spat. "He thundering knew where we were going. We tried to call for help, but he had some kind of interference running. Rob made the plan. Mat superheated the water in our canteens then threw them like grenades. I shot them out of the air all around the strucking bastard. He nearly killed himself trying to fire back, then Rob closed on him with an insulated knife. We connected to Sanctuary and bolted for the portal." The glass creaked as her fingers turned white, gripping it hard. "That's when the third thunder-struck stepped out from behind a tree. He grabbed the death spark from one we'd taken down and flattened everything. The whole goddamn world exploded. I got knocked five meters by the blast, easy, and couldn't sort out my head from my ass. They said I must've been partially grounded, which is why it hit me like a truck instead of roasting me to my boots. Mat got to me and pulled me clear. Rob never had a chance."

Sarah released the glass and wiped at her eyes, taking a deep breath and letting it out. "And that's the story, Hawkins." She finished her drink and glanced at Sean. He gave her an appraising look then shrugged and filled her glass again. "So, now that I feel nice and horrible," she said with a smirk, "your turn."

"Oh," Ezra squirmed uncomfortably. "Well, seven years ago, my parents and I–"

"Blighted hell, no!" Sarah interrupted. "I don't need your grief. Something funny! Preferably where you look stupid."

Ezra blinked at that, then grinned. "All right then. Do you know Mitzi Parnasus?"

==

"And so there I was, butt naked, standing in the middle of this broken terrarium with a stick in one hand and a rock in the other, Kirsten glaring at me as she tried to get the spider juice off her shoe, and the cook walks in with this big pot singing, 'I make the spicy meatballs for everyone!'"

Sarah pounded the bar. "And they were spicy! They were only spicy because, ha, ha, because–" She deteriorated into a fresh round of hooting laughter, slapping Ezra on the back. "Hawkins, you're all right," Sarah slurred with the total assurance of the truly drunk. "Even though you're a thundering stupid Legacy half-wit who's too dumb to know when to be afraid, you're all right."

"Hey now," Ezra said with mock seriousness. "I take exception at that remark. Why, I have it on good authority that I'm so afraid of my own shadow that I have to sneak spy devices into every..." His voice trailed off as he bolted to his feet, thoughts dodging bubbles of drunkenness to form an idea. "Struck me," he whispered. "Spy devices. Why didn't I think of that?"

#  Chapter 39

## Bombshells

Ezra woke the next morning feeling great. Well, he felt terrible, but one look at the message his inebriated mind had managed to put together and send the night before set him smiling bigger than he thought he could. He actually whistled as he grabbed his gym equipment and headed out. Kirsten gave him a calculating look, to which he replied with a wink. "Check the news today," he called back to her as he jogged out the door.

Gal was missing from their morning training session, probably off on another mission. Ezra felt a brief pang of jealousy as he joined Liza on the mat, but that was washed away by the big woman's sudden grin. "A formal apology? What did you do, Ezra Hawkins?"

Ezra found himself mirroring her expression. "Just my civic duty, Miss Crawford," he said piously. "Helping DOLT in any little way I'm able."

"Lieutenant Jeffries demoted and brought up on charges of reckless endangerment and fraud." Liza shook her head, eyes gleaming. "We write the news, and DOLT isn't telling us anything else. So, off the record..."

"Well..." Ezra began stretching to limber up. "Theoretically, a conscientious citizen may have realized that the composition of matter around a wormhole is very important. Said citizen might have then used the quantum tunneling capabilities of the wormhole algorithm generators in the Sanctuary Center to map the fermions around the power conduit that caused the portal network crash from a few weeks ago. Being an industrious little worker, it's possible that he also reverse engineered several key minutes of data into a video. And there's a chance that a certain, unnamed DOLT detective was seen tripping over the conduit in question, kicking it a few times, then storming off."

"And I imagine this citizen felt obligated to share this potentially embarrassing information with DOLT at his earliest convenience?"

"Conscientious citizen, remember? I've also heard that some enterprising troublemaker managed to get his hands on the footage and released it on the neural net..." Ezra pulled up his net interface and posted a copy of the incriminating video in response to the most recent 'Jeffries for commissioner' campaign ad, "...now." He smiled smugly as Liza's eyes went wide and she made a hurried call to her father.

Several breathless minutes later, Liza shook her head and said, "You can't just drop something huge on my head like that, Ezra. News is what we Crawfords do. It's... it's like if I suddenly discovered a wormhole... thingy... and told you about it. You just wouldn't be able to help yourself."

"My sincere apologies, Miss Crawford," Ezra bared his teeth in a wicked smile. "Now, you were teaching me to defend myself?"

==

The two friends were on their way back to the Legacy section of Sanctuary when a pair of shadows fell over their path. "Stop right there," a strident voice called out.

Ezra groaned. "Lieutenant Jeffries. Oh, I'm sorry. I guess it's just officer now, isn't it." He gave Jeffries a cocky grin. "Trip over anything good lately?"

"Ezra, I don't think you should–"

Jeffries cut Liza off with a snort. "Funny. You think you've got me kid? You have no idea." The man was practically trembling with anger. He took a deep breath, then smiled unpleasantly at Ezra. "Wilson," he called to the brick of a man standing next to him, also in DOLT uniform. "How would you characterize the good Mr. Hawkins' behavior?"

"Belligerent and confrontational, sir," the other man growled, pig-like eyes gleaming. "Looks like he's going for a weapon."

"Is that so?" Jeffries turned to look at the other officer with deliberate casualness and, without warning, whirled and punched Ezra in the gut. "You think you've won, you Legacy piece of trash?" he spat as Ezra fell to the ground clutching his stomach. Jeffries lashed out with a savage kick, clipping Ezra's shoulder. "You're nothing, you hear me!"

Liza stood with her hands to her mouth in horror. "Officer, please, this is–"

The other DOLT, Wilson, imposed himself between her and Jeffries. "Careful there, ma'am." He leered at her, evil little eyes dancing. "You're acting a little belligerent and confrontational yourself." One meaty hand grabbed Liza's wrist.

Her eyes narrowed, and she whirled into action. She pulled Wilson into a throw, sweeping his legs out from under him and leaping to follow the movement. Her full weight came down, focused onto her elbow, driving into his sternum just as his back slammed to the ground. Liza bounded up from the fallen man, arms whirling. Ezra wasn't sure if it was the pain or if he was just seeing things, but he could have sworn she blurred across the ground without ever touching it.

Jeffries never saw her coming. A hand locked in at his shoulder, another by his knee, and suddenly the former detective was airborne, twirling through a brief flight that terminated in a vicious landing.

"Oh my," Liza whispered quietly, staring down at the two officers of the law she had felled in horror.

"Blighted hell," Ezra wheezed, forgetting to check his language. He staggered to his feet and grabbed Liza's hand. "We have to move, come on." They left the two men groaning on the ground, fleeing to the safety of the Legacy estates.

==

"Ezra, need to practice a little early today." Mat's voice was rushed over their net connection. He was obviously running. "Various and sundry things to do. Get there ASAP."

"Mat, I really don't have time for–"

"No time, official business, explain later." Mat cut the connection.

Not now, Ezra thought, looking over at the traumatized Liza Crawford sitting on his bed, staring bleakly out the window. Okay Ezra, think, you just have to get Liza home, then you can go find out what's going on with the Guild.

"Liza," he said carefully. "Are you all right?"

"I just threw them," she murmured, "just like in practice. B-but there were no mats, and they didn't fall right. Oh, they didn't fall right at all." Her eyes remained fixed on some point outside. Ezra groaned internally. He wasn't going to get her anywhere like this. He looked around, trying to think of something, anything. Nothing came to him. Frustrated, Ezra kicked his desk. The workspace containment field shifted out of place. Ezra scowled at it. It wouldn't even have been in place to begin with if Kirsten hadn't tried to straighten things up...

That was it. He glanced back at Liza, who was still mumbling about how she hadn't meant to hurt anyone. With a heart-felt sigh, Ezra opened his net connection and did something he had never imagined doing before. He called his secretary.

#  Chapter 40

## Flame On the Horizon

"So that's the situation." Ezra finished giving Kirsten the details of Jeffries's assault on him and Liza. "I need to take care of something concerning the Guild of Sundry angle. If I don't show, the whole thing could come crashing down around us."

Kirsten's eyes were focused off-screen. Behind her was the interior of a skiff, and if the ambient sounds were any indication, she was either in the middle of a war zone or doing some creative piloting. "Explain again why you need to leave during what is without a doubt a rather crucial moment for not one, but two very important Legacy houses." Her voice was tight with carefully controlled anger.

"I can't."

Kirsten shot him a glance before returning her eyes to the road. "And you say that you have to leave immediately?"

"I'll be taking a wormhole directly from the house to my destination," Ezra said as he shoved his wormhole controller into his glider's pack. Pausing for a moment to consider, he added the worn copy of The Will of the Elements for good measure.

"Have you notified the Crawfords of the situation?" Kirsten's voice was tinged with annoyance.

"I thought it best if you handled the diplomatic side of this debacle, Miss O'Donnell."

"Debacle indeed," she growled under her breath, turning the skiff violently. A woman screamed. Something splattered across the window. Ezra tried not to think about what it might have been.

"Kirsten, please. You're the only one I can trust."

She gave him a startled look, then flicked her hair in irritation. "I'll have to come up with a plan of action. DOLT takes the safety of their officers very seriously, even the ones who are out of favor. Do I have your permission to use any means necessary to bring this to bay?"

Ezra hesitated for a moment, glanced at the time, and sighed. "Of course, Miss O'Donnell. I'll leave you a blanket approval."

"That should do nicely." A feral grin lit Kirsten's beautiful face. Ezra shivered in sudden fear of whatever scheme she was hatching.

"I won't be gone any longer than necessary," he said, pausing to glance back at Liza. "Please... take care of her."

Ezra looked back to find Kirsten's intense emerald eyes staring back at him, lit with an almost manic fire. "Will that be all, Mr. Hawkins?" The connection closed before he could respond.

That was not disturbing, Ezra thought to himself as he arranged the approval Kirsten would need to access house funds or issue statements in his name. I should definitely not be disturbed by that. He paused as he reached the lab, then granted her back-door access to the wormhole portal network, just in case that was deemed 'necessary'. He dialed his lab's wormhole generator directly to the Guild of Sundry, new equations for wormhole hacking and connectivity humming through his head as he ensured that it didn't disrupt existing connections. A viable source popped up, and he jacked the power stream for the half-second it took to step through into the Guild.

Walking out to see the shocked faces of Mat, Sarah, and Mr. Blair made the last few months of research worth every second. "Untraceable wormhole," he said nonchalantly, like it was no big deal, cutting the connection to let whatever portal he had hijacked resume its function. "Where's the fire?"

Mr. Blair continued to stare at him for a few moments. "How did you..." He shook his head. "Oh, just a turn of phrase. As it happens, however, the fire is where you will all be going."

Mat let out a triumphant crow as Sarah glared at Ezra and Mr. Blair each in turn. "I thought we were off active duty, sir."

Blair ignored the sarcasm in her tone. "Desperate times, I'm afraid." His tone turned serious. "What you three may not realize is that the Guild of Sundry has been under attack. Over the past two years, the incidents of violent rogue wind-scarred have grown at an alarming rate, faster than ever before observed. In addition, we have seen a marked increase in thunder-struck activity. There has also been an alarming trend in the thunder-struck conversion campaigns. Contacts are being found and tortured to death. Traps are being set for the responding Guild teams." Ezra felt Sarah stiffen beside him. "Our field teams are stretched to the limit. The fact of the matter is, yours is currently the only combat capable team in Sanctuary, and the situation is dire." Mr. Blair gestured with his left hand, and a video screen materialized. At first it looked like a thick fog covering a small valley. The image switched to a thermal view.

"Blight and thunder," Mat whispered. The entire valley was practically glowing an angry red. The fire must have been enormous, and hot enough to blacken the earth.

"This footage is less than an hour old," Blair said quietly. "There's a small town, Helena, near the center of the conflagration. No flag has gone up, but under the circumstances..."

"That hardly seems necessary," Sarah finished for him, still staring at the image.

"We were founded to protect people from... this," Mr. Blair gestured to the screen. "If the fire-kissed are going to war again, we need to know about it. We need to be able to stop it. Can I count on you all to use your best judgment, assess the situation, and bring back word of what's happening down there?"

"Yes sir." The team spoke as one.

"Take a skiff, the nearest wormhole is some two hundred klicks to the northeast of Helena." Blair gave Ezra a hard look. "No heroics, Mr. Hawkins."

Ezra flushed and nodded, then followed Mat and Sarah to the hangar. They geared up like for any other mission. Instead of guns, however, Mat and Sarah each picked up several sleek looking contraptions and bandoliers of bolts, each as long as Ezra's hand and as thick around as his index finger. "Crossbows," Mat explained. "No firearms around a fire-kissed. You're more likely to blow your own arm off than hit anything." He nodded to bulky weapon Sarah had fitted with a scope and was loading into the back of the skiff. "That one's a railgun. You can't fire it often, or it'll melt straight through the conductive rails. Wouldn't dream of using it within a thousand klicks of a thunder-struck, but you get a bead on a fire-kissed with that, and he'll be dead before he knows what's happening."

"Hawkins, open your mouth for a second." Sarah was fiddling with something between her fingers. Ezra gave her a confused look, then shrugged and opened his mouth.

Sarah clamped one hand around his jaw, holding it open. Her other hand snaked in and firmly affixed something to his rear molar. "Ahh," he tried to yell, pulling away. She smirked at him for a moment, then released her grip on his mouth, letting him stumble backwards. "What was that for?" he demanded, rubbing at his jaw.

"Special considerations," Mat said, reaching into his own mouth to affix something there as well.

"Bite down on it, hard, and it releases a pulse of energy similar to the Sanctuary shield." Sarah checked the firing mechanism of a small, hand crossbow critically. "Should shut down any elementalist working in your area for about two seconds."

"Wait," Ezra said, massaging the area around his molar lightly. "The Sanctuary shield negates their powers?"

"It was meant to keep us safe, Ezra." Mat slapped him on the back good-naturedly. "What did you think it was keeping us safe from, huh?"

"Then... why don't we always go out with these things? Or better yet, come up with a way to project the field all the time?"

"No can do," Sarah said as she holstered the little crossbow. "Design plans are all locked away in the Chancellor's family data banks, as far as we can tell. Also, there's some naturally occurring crystal structure here that's required for long-term use. With it, you can maintain the field practically forever. Without it, you get about two seconds. The crystal's also under the Chancellor's direct supervision; we can't touch it."

"These little things are the best we've been able to come up with," Mat said, hopping onto the skiff and checking the fuel levels. "Gotta figure, the only people who want the tech are Guildsmen. Most of the people who end up in the Guild aren't scientists. Little to no research capabilities plus too much work to go around means they just don't get made." Mat scratched his chin, thinking. "Also, they're blighted expensive to produce. We're going out with half the Guild's stockpile."

"Oh." Ezra felt a little humbled. "Then... why do we–"

Sarah interrupted him with a harsh laugh. "Because no-one else was stupid enough to piss off a psychotic, murderous water-seer assassin."

"I thought the way she swore bloody vengeance was actually kinda sweet," Mat said with a grin.

Ezra scowled as he keyed in the wormhole coordinates. "Could've happened to anyone," he mumbled, climbing on to the skiff.

"Not to anyone with a brain," Sarah taunted. The wormhole engaged, and they immediately caught the faint scent of smoke. "Now come on, let's go mess with a guy who can burn down a valley."

#  Chapter 41

## Welcome to Helena

"So what are we up against out here?" Ezra asked his teammates as they skimmed across the countryside. He'd read up on what fire-kissed were capable of: heat manipulation in their immediate area. Their levels of power seemed to vary radically from one fire-kissed to another, and even from one moment to the next. "I got the impression that fire-kissed powers were a little... temperamental."

Sarah snorted. "Yeah, they can burn things hot, or hotter." She shook her head. "It seems to have something to do with their passions. You can tell when one is really 'fired up', and you don't mess with them like that. They have less control, sure, but they'll also have more power going for them. I've seen a fire-kissed incinerate a building when he thought his wife was in danger. Strike from an ambush, don't let them get worked up."

Ezra mulled this over for a while. "There's also... I've seen a number of references to 'Beloved' and 'Besmirched'. Even the last two times we were out here, people seemed to think that we were these Besmirched, and talked about territories. Are they like... some kind of faction within the fire-kissed, or something?"

"Got it in one," Mat chuckled. "As far as we can tell, all fire-kissed were once Beloved. Some of them disagreed with the people in charge, and their little argument turned messy. When the smoke cleared, there were two factions and some kind of truce that practically divided the world in half. For the most part, it follows the blight line. Beloved rule in the north, Besmirched in the south." Mat paused as he maneuvered the skiff through a grove of trees. "Another thing you should know: fire-kissed don't fight each other. Not directly, at least. You might see other elementalists out here lay into one another, but never the fire-kissed. We think it's part of their truce."

"So, what did they fight over? Originally, I mean." Division in the ranks of the enemy was always a good thing to understand, especially if that enemy was the outside world's only real political power.

Mat laughed quietly as Sarah said, "Gun control."

"Guns? But I thought that out here..."

"Yeah, no technology... except some of them don't agree with that." Sarah shook her head. "The Beloved would do things like give their retainers flaming swords or crystals that would shoot out a gout of flame when they were broken. But they would only work near the fire-kissed who created them. The Besmirched wanted more. They found ancient weapons, firearms and the like, started manufacturing ways to give their people more effective means of keeping order." She shrugged. "The Beloved told them to stop, they fought, and everything burned."

"Some of their inventions have stuck, though," Mat chimed in. "There are these crazy air currents, like all the turbulent wind in the world gathered in one place, called the sky streams. From what we've been able to figure out, for a long time the wind-scarred had a monopoly on the market of flying ships. They built up the sky ports and would ship anything to just about anywhere in the world, for a price. The Besmirched came along with ships that could ride the sky streams, no wind-scarred required, and everyone – Beloved included – jumped on board."

"So, what do we know about this fire-kissed we're after?" Ezra asked, warming to the subject. "Beloved? Besmirched? History of burning things to ground?"

"Never been here. Technically it's Besmirched territory, but the border's close enough that the Beloved must have a thing or two to say about that." Sarah began rooting through her pack. "Aw, thundering hell. Mat, did you pack any portal rods? I forgot them, and we should probably get something a little closer in case this place becomes important."

"Wait, you mean... no-one's been out here?"

"You're surprised?" Mat asked. "There are billions of people in the world, Ezra, hundreds of thousands of villages and towns. And yeah Sarah, I have a set in my pack. In fact..." He glanced at the onboard console. "...we should probably start looking for a likely place to set up. We get too much closer and I'm afraid someone might wander over it."

Sarah nodded, and she and Ezra began scanning for anywhere that looked sufficiently out of the way to hide a wormhole.

==

They found a location about five minutes later. "I really don't see why this is necessary," Ezra grumbled as he waded through knee-deep muck toward the back of the cave. "It's not like anyone's going to realize there's a cave back here."

"But what if someone stops to get a drink?" Ezra could hear Mat's grin.

"Then they slip on this flat granite shelf, because an earth-crowned is messing with them, or something," Sarah continued as if it was the most reasonable thing in the world.

"Right, right, and supposing they're actually some kind of swimming prodigy, they turn that fall into a dive," Mat was nearly laughing by this point.

"And maybe it's like, really late in the year, so that the sun could shine down and blind this aquatic wonder. Why, they might think that the muck back there was just really thick water and swim right through it," Sarah snickered.

"It's pitch black back here," Ezra growled as he felt around for something solid to affix the portal stick to. "What exactly would you expect them to see?"

"Well, they wouldn't need to see anything, right? Just bump their head into it and feel around, maybe grab onto it for support and press the button for about thirty seconds, opening up a wormhole back to Sanctuary. Think of what Mr. Blair would say, Ezra. We're just looking out for you, man." Ezra found a place to to secure his portal rod and pulled his arm out of the goop. It popped free with an audible slurp. Mat made a choking sound that might have been a cough.

"There, done." Ezra began to make his way back toward the entrance. "And you both suck, I hope you know. I'm bringing you each a pocketful of this gunk to demonstrate."

"Valuable lesson, Hawkins," Sarah intoned imperiously as Ezra dove through the slime and mud, desperate for the clear water on the other side. "Never be the last person with a rod."

He resurfaced in time to see the wormhole back to Sanctuary form. Mat checked the readings on the portal stick he had used to call home, nodded once, and cut the connection.

"We going to need any more of those?" Ezra hopped on one foot, trying free his ear of whatever grime had taken up residence there. "I certainly don't have any."

"Shouldn't need them." Mat shrugged. "Plus taking them out to begin with is a little risky, which is why only us research teams have access."

"About fifteen minutes till we get close enough to worry about being seen," Sarah said. Evidence of the fire had started showing around them, black fingers of charred earth and devastated foliage reaching out into the woodlands. "Another five before Mat and I hoof it in. You're our spotter for this Ezra." She handed Ezra a data pad with a series of topological maps pulled up. "You may want to review the region surrounding the town for good places to camp out. "

Ezra blinked at the tablet in his hands, "Camp out?"

Sarah nodded. "You should also familiarize yourself with the operation of the railgun. Wouldn't want you pointing it the wrong way and vaporizing yourself when you pull the trigger."

He looked at the bulky weapon in dismay. "But... but I don't know the first thing about spotting! I mean, you can't–"

"Just ask if you need help," Mat said, scowling at Sarah in sharp reprimand. She raised her hands in surrender. "And we practiced with the railgun back at the virtual range in Sanctuary. Remember, the one that I told you to lick for good luck?"

Ezra gave him a flat look, then turned back to the maps as memories of his tongue going numb and staying that way for the rest of the day heated his cheeks.

"There, see? He remembers, no problem," Mat chuckled.

The rest of the trip passed in relative silence, Ezra picking out a few places on the map to hide the skiff that should give him a clear view of the town. He ran them by Mat and Sarah, and they helped him narrow his choices down to three: a primary and two secondary locations, in case he had to change position or adjust to field conditions. Ezra took over control of the skiff and bid his teammates farewell about half a klick from the road leading into town. Everything was gray with ash as far as the eye could see. The air was uncomfortably warm, and Ezra found himself beginning to sweat as he activated the skiff's holographic camouflage, cresting the hill he had chosen as a lookout point. Even the town of Helena was drab and colorless as the day drifted into twilight.

Ezra pulled up the railgun and sighted down the scope, bringing the town into sharp focus. He was surprised to see that the town itself was actually quite a bit bigger than it had appeared from a distance, a small city, at least.

Well, he thought grimly, it had been before today. Roughly three quarters of Helena had been burned practically to the ground. In fact, upon closer inspection, the fire seemed to have touched nothing within a circle that encompassed the remaining section of town. A clean line was drawn between devastation and normalcy, sometimes passing straight through buildings, denoting where the fire's ravages had stopped.

"We're just outside the town now, Hawkins," Sarah's voice came over the communicator. "And it's blighted hot. Anything we should know?"

"Oh, sorry." Ezra quickly swept his view over the town. Not many people were moving around. An old lady carried a bundle of something across the intact village square. She tripped on a raised stone and fell, spilling sticks across the ground. A young man, probably in his late teens, hurried to help her to her feet, stooping to gather the fallen sticks in the process. He shouldered the bundle and seemed to chat amiably with her as he escorted her home. A local vendor was closing up his shop and tossed the kid an apple. He blushed and bowed deeply just as a burly man carrying a large wooden beam walked past and tousled his hair playfully.

"Nothing much to report," Ezra began. "Seems like a tight-knit place, nothing obviously out of place." He frowned. Back in Southedge, just suspecting that there was a wind-scarred around causing trouble had put everyone on edge. Even in Arborlen, where no-one had actually been killed, the tension was so thick they had practically been swimming through it. Out here, however, there was nothing like the quiet, helpless terror that had been so present previously. "Something's not right, though," he continued. "The people down there... they're sad maybe, but they don't look afraid..."

A sudden burst of inspiration hit. "Hold on, I have an idea." Ezra switched the scope to thermal mode. Immediately the ambient heat of the landscape all around him jumped into view. The fires may have died hours ago, but the raw heat still stained the place. Except down in the untouched portion of town. Ezra carefully adjusted the scope, making out the heat signatures of human bodies, many sleeping after what must have been a trying day. Judging by the number of warm bodies crammed into what must have been makeshift hostels, a significant portion of Helena's population had made it through the fire.

Ezra grinned as the scope flared with color, a huge heat source coming into view. He blinked, momentarily blinded. It might just be an open flame or something, he reminded himself as he switched back to normal view. Don't get too excited. Ezra scanned the area of the hot spot. Nothing was there, except for the kid who had helped the old woman, and all he was doing was going around and lighting lamps around the town square... with nothing but a gesture. "Oh no," Ezra whispered, heart sinking.

"Oh no? What, what's going on?" Mat's voice was tense. "What did you... hey, did it just get cooler?"

"Mat, Sarah, abort, do not engage," Ezra said urgently. "I found the fire-kissed, but he's–"

"You found him that fast?" Sarah demanded. "Are you sure it's our guy?"

"Well, he's got a heat signature that's off the chart, and he's the only one still standing around in the square, but that's not why–"

"Ezra, if you've got a clean shot at this guy, with no witnesses, strucking take it, man." Mat sounded excited. "Easy spotting on your first go, and after that typhoon I had to sit through... thundering beginner's luck. We can do a little fact-finding and be home in time for dinner. I bet–"

"No, Mat, listen," Ezra interrupted him. "The fire-kissed, the one I spotted," his voice dropped to a whisper. "I think he's on our side."

#  Chapter 42

## Tower Defense

It took some doing, but Ezra managed to convince Mat and Sarah to make the hike up to his position. He took a few moments to explain what he'd seen, and was personally rather proud of his calm and rational defense of the fire-kissed he'd spotted.

"How can you possibly be defending him?" Sarah asked in exasperation, sweeping a hand out at the ruined land around them. "Look at this! Fires like this don't just happen, Hawkins. We've been doing this long enough to know that."

"Well then maybe... I don't know, there must be another fire-kissed in the area or something. But I'm telling you, the one down there didn't do it."

Mat ran a hand through his short hair, clearly frustrated. "How can you know that, Ezra? I mean, maybe he did it, but people down there just don't know." He brought his right fist down into his left palm. "I've got it: the people you saw were in cahoots with him, explains everything."

"Yeah, Mat," Ezra said, rolling his eyes. "The merchant with a third of his store cut away by what could have been a knife made of fire was probably 'in on it'."

"The apple could have been like... protection money or something." Even Mat seemed to realize that it sounded weak.

Sarah threw her hands into the air. "All right Hawkins, fine. It's your show, what's the plan?"

Ezra drummed his fingers against the railgun, thinking as he gazed down at the little town. "We need more information," he said slowly. "We have to find out exactly what happened here. We're too removed up on this hill, so we can't get a beam on anything to listen in..." He sighed, scanning the remains of the town. Lantern light illuminated it in the growing darkness, the outside edges of the unburnt square swallowed up by the night. A massive bell tower disappeared into the nocturnal gloom. "That church," Ezra exclaimed. "It's on the edge of where the fire hit. I can't tell for sure from here," he squinted in the direction of the stone building, "but it almost looks like the whole rear portion was sheared away. I didn't see anyone inside when I scanned for heat sources. If we could sneak in there tonight and set up a spotting point at the top of the tower, we'd be able to do some serious reconnaissance in the morning." He looked back and forth from Mat to Sarah hopefully.

Mat's head was already shaking. "Not a good idea, man. No way we're hiding the skiff right outside the town, especially when people are bound to be rebuilding tomorrow. If we get found out and have to leave in a hurry, we'd have to hoof it back to wherever we left our ride."

Sarah was staring intently at the abandoned church. "Hawkins, can you do more than just make pictures with that thing you're always carrying around?"

Ezra blinked at her. "You mean my remote wormhole controller? Of course. I mean, it's a wormhole controller. But without a power supply and a receiving location, the portal will last for about an attosecond. Not very useful."

Sarah opened her mouth as if to speak, then stopped and grabbed the data pad with the area surveys. "Here," she said, pointing to a dark, oblong shape, "there's a cavern that should pass right under that church and let out somewhere past those hills over there." Her head bobbed toward the faint, black outlines in the distance, on the other side of Helena. "We drive the skiff in, sync that wormhole doohickey up with the gravitational stabilizers, and pop up right inside. We can just port back down if things go bad, no harm no foul."

"What... you... you're actually on board with this?" Mat stuttered, looking at Sarah like she'd just sprouted another head. "Can his controller thing even do that? Ezra, can your thing even do that?"

"Yes, my 'thing' can do that," Ezra bristled. "I mean, a single port will drain the stabilizers pretty fast." He shrugged. "Ten seconds of active wormhole time, give or take. Then the skiff's dead."

Sarah raised her eyebrows at Mat, questioning. "Gah, fine," Mat grumbled. "Anything to get out of this thundering heat. Move over, Ezra, I'm driving."

==

"Thought you said your thing was up to this," Mat drawled. They sat on the skiff, occasional dripping sounds echoing in the cavern around them. "I mean, it's only like five or six meters. We probably could have dug through it in this time."

Ezra ground his teeth, biting back his first remark. "Yes Mat, why don't you start working on that?" he snapped instead, as he tried to adjust the power input tolerance of the probability matrix. "I'll let you know when I'm done toying with the fabric of reality." Mat laughed, echoes bouncing the sound weirdly. "That should just about... do it." Ezra sat back as the controller hummed to life, linked to the skiff's generators via a local net connection Mat had slapped together. "You sure we'll still get power up there?"

Mat's laughter devolved into a derisive snort. "Like a little rock would interfere with a power network grid that I set up. This baby's good for about five klicks in every direction."

"And now that you're both done stroking your egos, let's get down to business," Sarah cut in dryly. "Hawkins, here are the coordinates to a spot just outside the church. I'd rather not waste time getting portals stuck in walls, if it's all the same to you."

Ezra shrugged, giving her a lopsided smile. "Sure." He keyed in the location. "Okay, everyone in tight, I don't want to make this any bigger than it has to be. And make sure you step off right away; if we drain too much power we'll be walking home." Mat and Sarah nodded their affirmatives, and he activated the wormhole. The cavern was replaced with a clear night sky, the church looming in front of them, dark and foreboding. The instant they were all clear, Ezra killed the portal and checked his power readings. "Energy for four, maybe five more of those."

Mat grunted his acknowledgment and they crept into the empty building, weapons drawn. They found a door at one end of the chapel and followed the stairs up to the bell tower without incident.

"This should be a good spot," Mat murmured, nodding toward the edge. Ezra peeked over, admiring the view. An open-air tavern was just visible at the edge of a lantern's pool of flickering light. "Should get some good gossip down there, especially if we're around to ask the right questions."

Sarah nodded, pulling out a small pouch of coins. "Or at least if we ask them in the right way." She jingled the purse meaningfully. "Better get some sleep. I'll take first watch." Mat and Ezra each claimed a corner of the little tower room, settling down for a night's sleep.

#  Chapter 43

## Ear to the Ground

The angel's eyes were huge, dark and soulful, smoldering with a passionate heat. She frowned seriously, as if trying to get the measure of him. "Will you accept this gift, and with your passion shape the world?" Her lips were fascinating. Ezra glanced around dreamily. There was the world, bright and beautiful, off in the distance. Off in the distance? That's right, the shuttle had broken up. Oh, there it was, drifting around him in little pieces.

He looked back at the angel. Didn't she know that there was no sound in space? Asking him nonsense questions like that, and where no-one would be able to hear her, to boot. It was too bad, she had a pretty voice. Musical and exotic. You didn't get an accent like that in Sanctuary. Really a shame that there was no sound. But then again, it was just so cold out here, and she was just so lovely, he couldn't bring himself to be too upset with her. Instead he smiled and closed his eyes, letting go.

Sudden heat pressed against him, heavenly in the numb darkness. Her lips crushed to his. She tasted of something spicy. Nutmeg? His mouth burned with it. Then his throat, his lungs, until he was on fire.

Must be the oxygen deprivation, he thought in a daze. Is this what it feels like when you body shuts down?

Her breath rushed into him. His lungs expanded and his eyes fluttered open. The angel fell away, but now it was Gal's face looking back at him serenely. "See you later, Ezzy," she called, completely ignoring the fact that there was still no sound in space.

He closed his eyes in frustration, and was just about to let her know that talking was pointless when a cool hand pressed to his forehead. Kirsten's face glared down at him. "Ezra James Hawkins, don't think you can get out of your date with Miss Parnasus just by pretending to have a fever," she said severely.

"No!" he yelled.

==

"Not that!" He jerked awake, disoriented.

"Blighted thunder," Mat cursed from where he was crouched, one hand reaching for his sword. "Scared me half to death!" He put a hand on his knee and blew out a breath.

"Quiet," Sarah snapped, peeking out at the town to make sure the outburst had gone unnoticed. Both she and Mat were dressed for infiltration, homespun clothes deliberately baggy to allow for hidden weapons.

Ezra wiped the sweat on his brow. He had been sweating? Right, because everything was still so warm from the fire. That must have been it. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Ezra stumbled to his feet. He blinked out at the sun, just barely peaking over the valley's rim.

"No movement in town yet," Mat jerked his head toward the staircase. "Better take care of business before you pick up your watch."

Ezra nodded and hurried downstairs. After relieving himself, he made his way back to the top of the tower, accepting a cup of instant soup from Mat with a nod of thanks. The first sip scalded his mouth. "Anything interesting happen last night?" he asked with a grimace, blowing on his meal.

Sarah shook her head. "Not on my watch. I spotted your fire-kissed. Seems to be staying in one of the makeshift hostels with everyone else. Can't say that I've seen one of them willing to rough it with the common people... but then, we never deal with saints."

"The ground cooled off a bunch during the night," Mat noted as he finished his soup, slurping the noodles down. "I checked for any other big heat sources out there. Nothing came up." He shrugged his big shoulders. "I don't know, Ezra. If another fire-kissed was close enough to start that fire, he must have gotten out of here in a pretty big hurry afterward. Not saying that you're wrong, but I'm still not seeing any way that kid out there wasn't responsible."

"Guess it's time to get some more information then." Ezra took a long drink from his cup.

"Okay," Sarah said, sheathing a dagger with professional ease. "Think you can drop us about two miles out of town, behind those hills?"

Ezra nodded. "Shouldn't be a problem." He set his soup down and began mapping out the wormhole.

"Merchant interests looking for... I don't know, did you see any gems in that cave last night?" Mat asked Sarah, examining a blackened walking stick he'd picked up the night before.

She rolled a shoulder. "Sounds as good as anything else. I know I saw some fool's gold around that stream where we dropped the rods. And we're out of Eastpoint, that should be believable."

"Ready to go," Ezra announced as he finished priming the portal.

"Right." Mat nodded, he and Sarah stepping close together. The floor beneath them flashed to the burnt turf of the road outside Helena and they were gone.

Ezra picked up his soup, idly sipping it as he watched the town come to life through the railgun's scope. A gangly teenager hoisted a barrel around the back of the tavern. The vender he'd seen the night before began opening his shop as young women came and left with baskets containing produce or other miscellaneous household items.

Switching to thermal imaging showed him the fire-kissed about ten seconds before he left the hostel, yawning and stretching. Various people throughout the square called friendly greetings to him, and he smiled and waved in response. Ezra shook his head. There was no way that kid had caused the fire. Something else was going on here, and struck him if he couldn't find out what it was.

Reaching around the scope, Ezra fiddled with the controls until the remote audio indicator came on, immediately syncing it with his earpiece. "–sure that everything's ready? They're not gonna spook 'cuz of the fire, are they?"

Ezra blinked, glancing down through the scope to see what he was listening to. Toward the back of the tavern, near the bar, stood two dark-skinned men. One of them, the bartender, was calmly cleaning a glass while the other glanced around, fidgeting nervously.

"Oh yeah, Ezra," Mat's voice came over the communicator. "I think you should tell us–"

"Wait a second, Mat," Ezra said, keeping his sights trained on the men at the bar.

"Bert, when have you ever heard of a Besmirched being scared off by a little fire?" the barkeep snorted. He nodded as the gangly teenager shuffled past. "Stop worrying. We've already gone over the new plan a dozen times. So shut your mouth and make sure your boys are in place tomorrow."

"I don't know, Ernest..." The shifty eyed man, Bert quickly shot a look over his shoulder. "Doesn't sit right, you know? Thought we were done for with that fire yesterday, then the kid wakes up a fire-kissed... you sure they didn't catch wind of it or–"

"They will if you keep flapping your mouth," Ernest snapped at him. "Now get out of here and stop acting suspicious." His eyes tracked the fire-kissed as the youth snuffed out the lanterns. "Nothing's changed. Now we just have one more reason to do what must be done."

"Ezra, you okay up there?" Mat sounded concerned. "Did something happen or..."

"Sorry Mat," Ezra continued to scan the town, picking up snippets of conversation as he went. "Just stumbled on two shifty looking men at the local tavern talking about a plan and a Besmirched coming to town tomorrow or something. They made it sound like the fire-kissed in town only got his powers yesterday, and after the fire started." Ezra briefly outlined the conversation, along with descriptions of the men.

"Interesting... hey, speaking of your kissed, what does he look like? I don't want to bump into the wrong guy on the street and end up getting blown to cinders. I like these boots."

"Oh, yeah," Ezra reoriented on the fire-kissed. "Medium height, slight build. Dark skin, just like everyone else in town. Hair looks dirty blonde and unruly." A thought popped into Ezra's head. "Hey guys, how does a fire-kissed end up as one of the Beloved or Besmirched? I mean, they don't just wake up with their powers one day and already know which side they're on, right?"

His question was met with a few seconds of silence, then Sarah answered, "We're not... sure what happens. Word of mouth around the Guild is that when a new kissed gets his powers, both sides know about it somehow. Depending on how strong the new fire-kissed is, the Beloved and/or Besmirched will send out parties to whisk him away for indoctrination and initiation into their ranks... but don't take that as gospel truth, no-one's ever actually seen it play out."

"So... what if the Besmirched knew that this kid was a fire-kissed, and they burned down the valley to keep him in place so they could collect him?"

"Maybe..." Mat let out a frustrated sigh. "Look, we're walking into town now. Keep an eye out while we try to get to the bottom of this."

#  Chapter 44

## Pursuit

Ezra continued scanning the area, keeping an eye out for trouble. He noticed when his teammates entered the town, based on the distrustful glances being thrown their way.

"Hi mister," a child's voice came over the communicators. "What are you doing out here?"

"Minding our own business," Sarah replied in a cool voice. Ezra saw her flip a coin to a small boy with mocha skin and dense, curly hair. There was something familiar about the kid's huge smile as he snatched the coin and ran off, but Ezra couldn't quite place it...

"And watch where you're going!" Mat yelled after the retreating boy good-naturedly. "Ah, good to get off my feet," he said with deliberate casualness as they took the outermost table at the open air tavern. "The road out there is hot as thunder-struck's head. Barkeep! Can we get some water and a meal over here?"

Panning to the bartender, Ezra saw the man grimace as he gestured to the lanky serving boy, who ducked into a back room and emerged with two mugs and a plate of what looked like cold ham and hash. "Don't have the hearth going yet," he growled at Mat, "so you can eat the same as the rest of us."

"No problem, friend," Mat said jovially. "Must have been a bad time of it yesterday. We saw smoke coming from this valley like you wouldn't believe. Then again..." He looked around the obviously devastated town. "Maybe you would believe it."

"Hng," the barkeep grunted noncommittally, as if the town around him wasn't mostly burned to the ground. "Where was it you said you were from again, friend?" He asked the question in an off-hand kind of way, although his voice sharpened at the last word.

"Just heading home from a little tributary off the Silverstream," Sarah answered smoothly. "We represent the interests of a minor gem merchant out of Eastpoint, looking to expand. We came by way of the blight road heading here, thought we'd take the scenic route going back." She looked around in obvious distaste.

"I know the place," the man behind the bar nodded slowly. "Quite a walk for just the two of you out there."

"Well, they don't pay us to lay around," Mat laughed easily. "And we don't want Velor coming down on us for giving Eastpoint a bad name, you know?" He gave another significant look to the burned out section of town. "Who's the fire-kissed in these parts, anyways? And what's he on about with all this?"

"We don't got no fire-kissed out here," the gangly youth chimed in, scowling. "Don't need one, neither. But one of them Besmirched is comin' out here, sayin' we's part of their territory. But we'll show the blighted sons of–"

"Jeremiah," the barkeep barked sharply. "I think you forgot to move that barrel out back, boy."

Jeremiah's eyes widened slightly, then he bowed and hurried sullenly out the back door.

"You seem awful curious about fire-kissed for gem merchants," the barkeep's hands vanished behind the counter, his voice hard. "Might want to keep that to yourself around these parts."

Mat was quick to raise his hands in the air. "Whoa, whoa, we're not looking for any trouble, friend," he exclaimed. "Bad things happen, you know? Just thought we should know who to avoid. Can't blame a man for that, what with the ground burnt black as far as the eye can see."

Mat and Sarah received calculating looks, then the man sighed. "Been a little tense," he mumbled. "Stephen over there is the only fire-kissed you'll find for a hundred miles around here, and he was just kissed yesterday. Boy woke up with it right in the middle of the firestorm that did all this." A sweep of his hand encompassed the destruction. " Must've been a little spark out in the brush... the wind caught it up and it got out of control." His voice took on a quiet intensity. "That boy saved us all as surely as I'm standing here talking to you. My advice? You two should pack up all your questions and head back to your thundering gem merchant. You won't find anything you're looking for out here. But you might find something you're not."

Mat gave Sarah a significant look. "Well, I was tired of sitting down anyways."

"If you can't find happiness on the road," Sarah grumbled, "where can you find it?" She dropped several coins on the table and nodded to the bartender. "My thanks for the meal. Good luck to you."

They rose and left, angling through the ruined section of town, following the road out opposite the way they had come in. Ezra watched the barkeep, Ernest, track them with his eyes until they were out of sight. He glanced back to the other side of the tavern, where Bert was suddenly sitting, all nerves and restless energy. Ernest nodded to him curtly, then went back to polishing the bar. The shifty looking man glanced around, then strode out of the tavern and into a nearby house. Moments later, two hard looking men prowled out of the house with predatory grace. They followed the path Mat and Sarah had taken, vanishing from Ezra's sight amongst the burnt-out buildings.

"Mat, Sarah, there are two men following you. I don't think they want to have a friendly chat, either."

"Well, that was fast," Sarah chuckled. "Think we should set up an ambush over here, or try losing them in the ruins?"

"I don't have anything against these people," Mat hissed. "I'd just as soon lose them. There's nothing to be gained by fighting."

Ezra crossed to the opposite side of the bell tower. He caught a glimpse of Sarah's pale hair in the burned out city below. "Just keep going that way," he said, quickly calibrating his controller. "You're coming up to a square. Walk around the fountain and I'll pick you up. They won't see anything."

"Understood," came Sarah's response.

Ezra watched them closely, waiting for the right moment... there! He engaged the wormhole just as Mat and Sarah walked through, cutting it a fraction of a second later. Mat looked around the bell tower in appraisal. "Nice," he sounded genuinely impressed. "You realize that after this mission report, Blair's going to lock you in a lab until every active team has one of those thingies, right?"

Ezra grinned. "At least someone appreciates my genius." He returned his gaze to the scope, still focused on the blackened square his friends had just vacated. The two men stalked around the fountain then stopped, looking around furtively. His grin grew. "Oh yeah, that's going to throw them for a loop," he said, tone heavy with satisfaction.

"You're going to clever us all to death one day, Hawkins." Sarah rolled her eyes.

"Hey," Mat interrupted, cutting off whatever snarky quip Ezra was working up to. "What's up over there?"

Ezra swung his view back around to the other side of town. A man dressed all in black and gray was practically sprinting from the gate to the house Bert had entered a few minutes ago. Ezra got a bead on the window and switched settings to broadcast to the whole team just in time to hear Bert yell, "What?" The door to the house flew open as Bert half dragged the other man over to the tavern.

"Bert, what are you doing?" Ernest asked calmly.

"Tell him what you told me," Bert demanded of the unnamed man.

The man gulped, then stammered out, "Well, uh, sir, we've been keeping watch on the roads and passes to Eastpoint, just like you said, sir. We saw two people come down the road earlier today, but they seemed harmless enough."

"Skip to the important part, you blighted idiot." Bert looked around furtively, as if expecting to find someone watching him. Then again, Ezra supposed, it's not paranoid when it's true.

"Yes sir." The scout swallowed hard again. "Word came down that they left the city, sir. B-but sir... the Besmirched who's headed out here... sir, i-it's..." He trailed off, as if trying to work up the nerve to say the name.

"Who?" Ernest asked. "They sending one of Jonus's little lieutenants? Or maybe old scar-face himself? Can't say that I'd mind getting to take him out of the picture..."

Bert cut in abruptly. "It's Val," he hissed, eyes wide with terror. "Valerie Estavon is coming to Helena."

#  Chapter 45

## In the Beginning

Ernest's face drained of color. "Val," he whispered hoarsely. "Val's coming here?"

"We have to call this off, Erny." Bert was pacing back and forth. "We're in way over our heads. Against some other kissed, sure, but... Val's a monster."

Ernest held up his hand for silence as he visibly worked to calm himself down. The two men who had trailed Mat and Sarah came skulking back, looking disturbed. "We didn't get em," one of them growled. "They vanished into thin air. Like some kinda thundering magic trick." He spat on the floor.

"You didn't tell us we was chasing blighted spirits, Bert," the other man man said, looking back over his shoulder, clearly spooked. "Right in the middle of the old square, middle of the strucking day. Right where we originally planned it all. It's a bad omen, I tell you. We should just–"

Ernest silenced them all with a glare. "Too many people around here. Get the struck back inside, you two." The surly men looked at each other and nodded, heading back to the house, scowling around the square. Ernest turned to Bert. "Everything proceeds as planned." His tone brooked no dissent. "Your men had better find those two blighted 'merchants', and you tell 'em to do it quick and dirty. No funny business."

"Y-yes sir," Bert stuttered out, then turned and fled the tavern.

"I want to know if Valerie Estavon so much as sneezes funny on her way here, you got that?" He fixed his gaze on the wilting scout, who threw him a hasty salute and left out the back door. "We're too close to screw up now," he muttered ominously to no-one in particular.

Ezra sat back from the railgun. "Well," Mat started philosophically, "I'd say that there's something going on here."

"I'd say it's something we don't have any business getting involved in," Sarah shot back.

"I don't know..." Mat scratched his chin stubble. "I might be catching whatever it is that makes Ezra crazy, but I think we should stick around and see what happens."

"Are you out of your strucking mind!?" Sarah took a deep breath, lowering her voice. "If Valerie thundering Estavon is showing up in Helena, I want to be on the opposite side of the planet. This whole thing is going to blow up in our faces, and you know it."

"Come on, Sarah. These people are trying to help themselves, to get out from under the thumb of the Besmirched. The least we can do is see how it all goes down. Plus, if Val gets offed in an ambush out here, Blair's going to want to know."

"Um... who's Valerie Estavon?" Ezra asked politely. "Is this the same Val that Arn the Fist was talking about?"

Sarah glared at Ezra for a few seconds, then sighed and said, "Valerie Estavon is the leader of the Besmirched in North America, possibly the world. She is one of the five or six most personally powerful fire-kissed that we know of."

"Would she be capable of starting that fire?" Ezra's tone was quiet, still polite and reserved.

"I... I don't know," Sarah admitted. "Maybe. We don't have any way of finding out though..." Her voice trailed off as she stared out into the distance. "And yes Mat, you're right," she continued, sounding defeated. "We need to see what happens here. If by some miracle these people manage to take out Val, we would need to know about it." Her hand shot out and grabbed Ezra by the collar, pulling him up to eye level. "I don't know what thundering god of misfortune you pissed off, Hawkins, but I would take it as a personal favor if you would keep your blighted bad luck to yourself in the future. I am tired of the interesting missions you seem to find." He fell to the floor as Sarah let go and slumped down next to the railgun. "I'll keep watch, you two amuse yourselves or something." The steady stream of outside sound abruptly cut off as the scope was switched from public back to private listening. Mat shrugged, removing a small bolt thrower from behind his neck and beginning to dismantle and clean it.

Ezra looked around, then spotted his copy of The Will of the Elements. Picking it up, he flipped to the first verse of the first chapter, sat down and started reading.

In the beginning, there was the Mother.

She looked out through the heavens and longed for companionship. And so She brought forth Her children. They loved Her and danced together at the beginning of all things, and this was good.

The Mother looked upon Her children and smiled, for they were of Her and filled with the purity and goodness that was known only to them. And She said to them, "My children, I am going to sleep now. Keep watch and wake Me when the time is right." And so She slept, while Her children danced across the world.

Then there came the Father god. And He looked down upon the sleeping Mother, and called unto Her children. "You are shapeless and without form!" He cried to them, and they knew it to be true. "I shall name you the Elements, and thus increase that which you are. Come, and let Me show you the beauty of things that could be, so that when your Mother wakes, She shall be glad." And the children loved their Mother, so they did this thing.

The Father god turned to stalwart Earth, most steady of the Elements. "To you I shall give the bones of the world, that you may solidly support the beauty which is to come." And thus Earth was bound, shaping the deep places and holding the world.

Next the Father turned to gentle Water, most soothing of the Elements. "Yours shall be the domain of life, nurturing the beauty which is to come." And thus Water was bound, flowing and shifting in a slow dance with Earth.

Next the Father turned to clever wind, swiftest of the Elements. "Yours shall be the air and all that is within it, giving hope to the beauty which is to come." And thus Wind was bound, and joined Water and Earth in their dance, touching lightly upon each to be held by neither.

Next the Father turned to passionate Fire, most beautiful of the Elements. "Yours shall be the blood of all things, giving warmth to the beauty which is to come." And thus Fire was bound at the heart of all things, licking forth to dance with Water, Earth, and Wind, lovely to behold.

Next the Father turned to mighty Lightning, greatest and eldest of the Elements. And Lightning looked upon his brothers and sisters and despaired. "What shall You give me, Father?" he asked. "Shall You bind me as well, shackling my feet and stilling my tongue, so that I may neither dance nor sing nor wake the Mother when the time is right?" And the Father god was wroth with anger, for bold Lightning had seen the truth of all things. "I shall take my own place in the heavens, to watch over my siblings and wake them when the time is right." And thus Lightning did leap to the heavens, unbound and free, dancing through all things and sounding his voice to those who would hear.

Then did the other Elements too despair, for it was as clear-sighted Lightning had said.

"Now shall you see the beauty which is to come!" the Father god declared, and from each of them He took a piece, and breathed into it, until He had made all manner of living things upon the world.

And the Elements saw this, and though they were bound and mute, their dance slowed and their voices dimmed, they loved the beauty that had come. Then the Father god reached into each of them, and though the world was full of beauty He did create one last thing, a creature in His own image. And when He had breathed life into man and woman, He spoke to them, saying, "See this world of beauty I have created for you! All of this is yours, from the birds of the air to the fish of the sea, to all manner of beasts upon the ground. The Elements themselves bow to you, for you, My children, are the greatest of all."

And the Elements saw that they had been tricked and enslaved, and their fury was great.

Ezra stopped. This all seemed suspiciously like... propaganda. He flipped to the end of the thick tome, finger tracing to the last line.

...thus have these words been passed down to the Voice of Thunder from the lips of Lightning Himself, that we may know of them and rejoice.

Ezra smiled wryly. Funny that the religious text of a fanatical cult of people with the power to control electricity would have nothing but good things to say about their element. One thing still bothered him though...

"Hey Mat," Ezra said softly, trying not to disturb Sarah. "You remember when I was talking to Gaav about his religion on the walk home?"

"Yeah, a little," Mat responded absently, focusing on the trigger mechanism in his hand. "Why?"

"Remember when I asked him about other religions? He said that he had only ever heard of one, the Sons and Daughters of Lightning, and that The Will of the Elements was their holy book."

"Yeah, so?"

"Well, how many religions are there in Sanctuary, if you had to guess?"

Mat frowned. "Dozens, I guess. Maybe hundreds. Everybody brought something with them at Founding."

"Don't you find it a little odd that in our little city of maybe a million people we have at least dozens of religions, and yet out here, with billions upon billions of people, there's only one that anyone's even heard of?"

"Not that surprising, Hawkins," Sarah murmured, "when you consider that the people pushing the religion can literally smite you with lightning if you don't convert."

Ezra inclined his head in acknowledgment of Sarah's point. "But the stuff he was saying about his god, or whatever, protecting and nurturing people..." He brandished the tome in his hands. "That's not the kind of stuff that's written in this book."

"Maybe you haven't gotten to the good parts yet," Sarah said with a snort.

"Gaav seemed pretty level-headed to me," Mat said, considering. "I don't know, man. Religion's supposed to show people how to be good, right? Maybe some people don't need that. Maybe some people are just good people, regardless of what they believe."

#  Chapter 46

## Providence

The rest of the day slipped idly by, Ezra occasionally leafing through the thunder-struck propaganda he'd inadvertently brought with him. They took turns keeping watch, each looking out for a few hours at a time.

The sun was just beginning to set when Ezra suddenly sat bolt upright. "I've got it," he whispered. Mat and Sarah looked over with mild interest.

"Would you like to share it with the rest of the class, Hawkins?" Sarah asked dryly.

"The fire," Ezra said excitedly. "I know how we can find out who caused it. We just ask!"

"Oh?" Mat said, voice amused. "And who are we gonna ask? Are you already on a first name basis with this god, or Earth or Lightning or whoever it is?" He idly nudged The Will of the Elements with his foot.

"No, I mean, we ask the fire-kissed! The one who stopped the fire, what was his name... Stephen!" Ezra announced proudly. "If there was another fire-kissed involved, maybe he, I don't know... felt something." He beamed at his teammates.

"Okay Hawkins," Sarah said, serious voice belying merrily dancing eyes. "I like this idea. So what's the plan? Wait, wait, don't tell me... we march down, find this kid, explain who we are with everyone looking on, and then ask him directly if he thinks that maybe there's another fire-kissed around burning the place to cinders?"

"Well, that wasn't exactly–"

"No, hold on, I got it!" Mat interrupted, snickering. "We go down there, in the dead of night, and we... wait for it... we throw a bag over his head and carry him off! But you're saying, 'Hold on Mat, he's a fire-kissed, he'll just toast us the second we jump him.' Well, I've got that covered too. You see, we soak the bag in water. Get it? Water, so that he can't use fire!"

"Fine!" Ezra threw his hands up in disgust. "I was just trying to be helpful, but I can see that you two would rather just sit around here until–"

The door to the bell tower creaked open. Holding a long, heavy looking tube, Stephen the fire-kissed walked into the room. Everyone froze. The boy's eyes locked on to the obviously high-tech railgun next to Ezra.

The team burst into motion. Mat lunged forward, disarming the fire-kissed and sweeping his legs with blinding speed. The dart gun Sarah had just finished re-assembling leaped into her hand as she sighted and fired in a smooth motion. Stephen fell heavily to the floor as his legs flew out from under him and the dart hit home. The Sanctuary team blinked at each other.

Mat cleared his throat and said hopefully, "I need to ask the Haldis girls a few questions about the fire too. It would help if all three of them were naked." He looked around expectantly, then sighed in disappointment. "I guess that's not working anymore."

"Huh," Ezra said, looking at the young man on the floor. He picked up the tube Mat had skillfully removed from the young elementalist's person and carefully opened it. Inside he found... a telescope? "Huh," he said again.

"Well... that... huh," Sarah agreed eloquently.

Ezra's brain finally caught up. "Okay then, uh... Mat. Do you have anything that will bring down a fever?"

"I don't think you're hallucinating, man," Mat said wonderingly. "Or maybe I'm hallucinating too. You might be on to something with the fever–"

"No, not for me, for him. I have a theory that if we can lower his core temperature, we can essentially prevent him from using his powers. I read about something like it in a mission report, where a fire-kissed melted through a frozen lake. His people pulled him out, but he couldn't call up any fire, at least for a little while. The villagers chased him out of town."

Mat snapped his fingers. "Got just the thing." He started going through his medical kit mumbling to himself about body mass and average temperature.

"Good. Sarah, how long will he be out? Can you tie him up securely before he comes to?"

"Um," Sarah blinked away her confusion. "A normal person would be down for eighteen hours, give or take, depending on body mass. But... with how hot he is I bet he'll burn through it by morning. So yeah." She uncoiled a length of rope from her pack and went to work. "I think I can manage."

"Right, good," Ezra leaned down to check the boy's pulse. Strong and steady. "Interesting... looks like his powers are linked into his conscious mind. He feels much cooler than he should now that he's out."

Sarah glanced at Ezra as she secured one of Stephen's arms, then shrugged. "I guess. Still feels pretty warm to me."

Ezra nodded absently, lost in thought.

==

Stephen woke shivering. That was probably for the best. "Who are you people?" He looked around wide-eyed. "W-what are you doing here?"

"Calm down, no-one's going to hurt you," Ezra said. "We just need to ask you a few questions."

The fire-kissed focused on Ezra, teeth chattering. "Wh-why am I so cold?"

"To prevent misunderstandings," Mat muttered from his position with the railgun, watching the road. Sarah remained silent, standing behind the bound young man, crossbow trained on his skull.

"Stephen, please, we don't have a lot of time," Ezra said quickly. "We need to know about the fire that you stopped. Can you tell me how you did it? Was there another fire-kissed out there who was controlling it?"

"Another... no, I-I don't know. It was like... Oh Mother help me, I don't know anything. Please you have to believe me."

Ezra took a deep breath. "Okay, let's start at the beginning, then. When did you realize you were a fire-kissed?"

"Um," Stephen swallowed hard, "it w-was during the firestorm, I guess. Y-you see, I star-gaze. I come up here on clear nights with m-my telescope." He suddenly started twisting around. "You didn't break it did you?" he asked in genuine panic. "I-it's been in my family for generations. Please, is it okay?"

Ezra scooped up the telescope case and popped the top open for Stephen to see. The young man sagged in relief. "Oh thank Fire and Earth. W-where was I? Oh, right, star-gazing. I was sleeping late b-because there was going to be a m-meteor shower. And Fire, she came to me, in a dream... so b-beautiful. She s-said there was no time, then she..." His face flushed and he squirmed awkwardly. "She k-kissed me. And then, i-it was like I was on fire. I m-must have fallen off the bed, 'cuz I woke up all sweaty, a-and stumbled outside." The blood drained from his face as he spoke. "Everything was b-burning. The sky, it was all smoke and ash, and I could feel the f-fire coming. I tried to push it back, b-but it was just t-too much. I tried, I did... I just w-wasn't strong enough." Stephen looked up, eyes pleading.

"That's enough, that's good, thank you Stephen," Ezra glanced back at Sarah, who shrugged her shoulders. The kid was clearly a mess of guilt. Well, it was something, at least. Stephen probably wasn't responsible for the fire, and if it had been the work of a more experienced fire-kissed they would have most likely overwhelmed him in short order. Ezra wiped his brow.

"We've got incoming," Mat said softly. "Holy... something out there is really hot. And it's... it's like the same temperature all the way through, no excess heat bleeding out at all. That's gotta be her." Mat deftly switched the scope from thermal to visual. "Struck me, she's in some kinda palanquin or something, bare-backed slaves carrying it on poles and everything. I can't see her at all. It looks like she's got... four, eight, sixteen... at least sixteen guards, and they're marching in good order."

"What are you t-talking about?" Stephen asked, teeth still chattering. "Who's coming?"

"Quiet," Ezra hissed, watching Mat anxiously.

"Wait, wait, two more and... thundering hell, they're wearing these ridiculous full body black robes, cowls and everything. I know it's not as hot as it was yesterday, but it's still blighted warm out there. Something's off about this whole thing though... I can't put my finger on it... it's like..." Mat froze. He didn't even breath for at least ten seconds. "Bad things happen. Oh god, bad things happen," he whispered rapidly under his breath. "Sarah... Sarah you need to come look at this."

Ezra cleared his throat meaningfully while Sarah stared daggers at Mat.

"Struck security, you need to see this now!" He jumped to his feet, drawing his bolt-thrower and leveling it on Stephen.

"N-no, please I d-didn't-"

Mat kicked him in the head. "I'm not joking around here." His voice was calm, level, and deadly serious. The fire-kissed slumped to the side, unconscious. "Sarah, go look in the strucking scope."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "All right, all right, I'm looking." She laid her crossbow down and sighted along the scope. "I don't see them, they passed behind a hill."

"Give it time," Mat said, worried gaze still locked in the direction of the Besmirched expedition.

Ezra checked Stephen's pulse. Still alive, just knocked out again. Well, he hadn't hoped to get much more out of the young man anyways...

"Okay, they're coming around the hill. Looks like your count was accurate, still no visual on the fire-kissed. Yes those robes are ridiculous, Mat what am I supposed to be looking for here?" She turned and glanced back at Mat, exasperated.

Mat returned her stare in steely silence. Sarah made a disgusted sound and put her eye back to the scope. "They're maybe three or four minutes away at the pace they're going. At least the blighted guards are keeping step like halfway competent military and holding their guns..." Her breath caught in her throat. "Their blighted guns," she whispered. "Thundering hell, those can't be their guns."

"What?" Ezra asked, confused. "What's wrong with their guns?"

Sarah looked up at him, horrified. "Their guns were made in Sanctuary."

#  Chapter 47

## Freedom

"Their... what?" Ezra squinted out at the little group on the road. "Where could they... how could they even get weapons made in Sanctuary? Do we... we don't sell things to them, right?"

"I don't know, I just don't..." Sarah got up and started pacing nervously, hands running through her hair. "But this... this is big. A-and bad. This is... struck it, I don't even know..."

Ezra grabbed the railgun and looked out at the procession. Sure enough, their guns had a sleek, finished, and distinctively modern look to them. He could even make out a Hughes Legacy mark etched into the case of one of the weapons, attesting to the quality of the materials. He whistled under his breath. No doubt about it; those were manufactured in Sanctuary.

He turned the scope back toward town, checking the tavern. Bert was pacing nervously next to the counter. Ezra switched the audio channel to public. "Everything's ready, the men are all in place." The twitchy man glanced at Ernest, who was meticulously cleaning the bar. "We know where they are, we know when they'll get here." He glanced up at the sun. "We know she likes her jasmine tea strong; it's been simmering all morning. She's probably thirsty from the trip. The outer table is cleaned and set, everything else looks dirty, so we just have to–"

"Jeremiah!" The barkeep interrupted Bert loudly. "If you're not finished back there in the next thirty seconds, I'll tell Stephen to burn that shack to the ground around you, you hear me?"

Bert stopped pacing and looked around in terror. "Oh, oh, blighted hell, where's Stephen?" Ezra's mouth went dry. "I haven't seen him all day. What if they caught him, or if he's in on it with Val, or–"

"Relax," Ernest growled, eyes never leaving the bar. "He didn't know anything about this and you know it. Doesn't matter where he is."

"Right, right, doesn't matter, of course, you're right." The little man mopped at his forehead. "What about them other two? We ain't seen hide nor hair of them, and my boys were looking, don't you doubt it."

The bartender's jaw tightened. "Could be they were what they said they were, just better at making themselves scarce than most. Must've been to travel this country, just the two of em. Mother knows I'll tip my hat to competent help."

Bert looked at Ernest in confusion. "What're you..." A sharp whistle went up from the gate. Bert frantically shot a glance at the sun again, then grabbed a shabby, wide-brimmed hat and screwed it onto his head. "Right, showtime." He quickly walked towards the village square, but stopped just outside the tavern, looking back over his shoulder. "In case... in case this all goes up in thunder, I just wanted you to know, it's been a pleasure working with you, Ernest." Bert bowed his head slightly to the barkeep.

Ernest grunted, picking up a fancy teacup and wiping away an imaginary spot as Bert hurried to the center of the square. The fire-kissed procession was still a little ways out of town. Ezra scanned over the rest of the little square, and as he passed over a group of children jumping rope, he caught the words, "–and will harbor no wrong," in a familiar singsong chant. He stopped, startled, as the children continued.

The wind-scarred are tricksters

They'll steal your things

Then fly through the sky

Like a bird with no wings

The Sons and the Daughters

Of Lightning will tell

How to save your soul

And keep you from hell

The little girl jumping rope tripped on the last line, sending all the children into a fit of laughter. A boy jumped up as the rope started spinning again, and the rhyme began anew.

A water-seer's eyes

Are as blue as the sea

They'll heal all your hurts

But there'll be a fee

A fire-kissed burns with

A passionate heat

They make all the laws

And keep our towns neat

A worried looking woman interrupted the game, hurriedly shooing the children indoors. She glanced back toward the gate before shutting the door behind her.

The Besmirched group had finally entered the town. Guards fanned out, creating a perimeter, hard eyes scanning for trouble. The mysterious figures in black robes took up positions on either side of the palanquin as the slaves set it down gently.

"Whole lot of fuss over one blighted fire-kissed," Mat whispered as two of the slaves prostrated themselves to act as steps while four more brought around large fans. The last two reverently cinched back the silk drapes to let out their passenger. Mat rolled his eyes. "I take back everything I've ever said about you Legacy pansies, this is just strucking–"

One perfect, bare leg emerged from the shaded interior.

"–hot," Mat finished weakly. "Ezra, man, move over..." Mat nudged at him absently, eyes still glued to the woman exiting the palanquin. Ezra watched as a golden goddess stepped into the sunlight. Her skin was flawlessly tanned, practically glowing light gold. Just the curve of her calves had Ezra adjusting his pants, and the rest of her curves were at least as enticing. A long slit ran up both sides of her slinky red dress, giving tantalizing hints at the shapes of her thighs as she stepped delicately over the slaves' backs. "Does she look as good up close as she looks from here?" Mat wiped a hand over his mouth. "Please say yes, oh god, please say yes." The woman shaded her face with her hand and looked around the town, laughing fetchingly. It did fetching things with her bosom as well. As in, it fetched the attention and didn't let it go again. Ezra found himself smiling stupidly and pulled himself away from the scope, breathing heavily.

"Men," Sarah muttered as she took charge of the railgun. She let out a soft gasp. "Well... maybe I can't blame you, this time."

Ezra grabbed his canteen and took a long drink, still haunted by gleaming golden ringlets spilling over smooth, gorgeous shoulders, burnt red highlights throwing back glimmers from the sun. And none of it had compared to her face... cheeks slightly flushed, luscious lips smiling with deliberate wickedness. Those captivating golden eyes with tiny emerald flecks, practically burning with a sensuality that... Ezra swallowed and dumped the remaining contents of the canteen over his head. It helped, a little.

"I wanna be a Besmirched," Mat whimpered miserably, "if it means I get besmirched by her." He shook his head in wonder. "If the Chancellor looked like that, I'd never want to leave Sanctuary."

"You and me both," Sarah murmured. Ezra gaped at Sarah. Mat eyed her appraisingly. Her head shot up as she realized what she had said, then her eyes narrowed into a defensive look. "What? She's really hot." Sarah shrugged and settled her eye back to the scope.

A velvety voice purred through their communicators. "Mmmm, I smell jasmine tea. Bert, darling, you remembered." She even sounds hot. Damn it all. Ezra desperately wished for more water.

He inched up to watch the scene below them unfold. A chill wind gusted through the bell tower. Ah, Ezra thought, probably why the conspirators didn't pick this for a sniping location. From up here, however, they could see everything play out.

Valerie Estavon and her two cowled shadows walked to the cleanest table in the tavern, as expected. Men with bows crept along rooftops, staying low and out of sight from below. The fire-kissed took a seat, robed figures flanking her, as the gangly teenager Jeremiah carefully brought her a steaming pot of tea. How he managed to make it to her without killing himself was a mystery to Ezra, as the boy was clearly at once smitten and terrified out of his mind. Val must have smiled at him or something as he retreated, because he tripped over two chairs and a table while backing away. Her guard spread out in a semi-circle facing out from the tavern.

None of them saw the bartender pull a loaded crossbow from behind the bar and level it on Val. "Freedom!" he roared as the arrow flew, straight and true.

"Freedom!" echoed the twenty men on the rooftops, loosing their arrows at precisely the same moment.

"Freedom!" cried every single person milling about in the square as they all drew steel, some falling upon the shocked guardsmen, others hurling missiles at Val's exposed back.

The elementalist took a calm sip of her tea. One of the cloaked figures raised a hand, and the air went still. So did every projectile in flight.

The other dark silhouette threw back his cowl, revealing delicate features etched with fine, silver scars. He looked around impassively, then brought up both arms. Heavy sleeves fell back as his scarred hands lifted, like a maestro conducting an invisible orchestra. His hands flickered, and chaos consumed the little town.

#  Chapter 48

## You Are Not Prepared

A whirlwind whipped into existence, centered on Val and her wind-scarred minions. Arrows, daggers and axes were thrown into a frenzied blur of motion, slicing through people and walls alike. The wind tugged the cowl free from the other wind-scarred, revealing a young woman's face. Ezra squinted. In fact, from up here, the two of them almost looked like...

"Twins," Sarah muttered in disbelief. "A matching pair of scarred twins in her pocket the whole time." She began to fiddle with the scope. "Hold on, I'll try to get audio from inside their windstorm."

Ezra saw Val reach up to catch her hair as it blew wildly around her head. "Kiril," she said in sharp reprimand.

The wind elementalist glanced back toward the seated woman. "Apologies, lady," he said softly, never letting the air that danced around him waver in its intensity. A rebel who had managed to slip through the ring of guards was abruptly caught up in his working and hammered through a pile of firewood. Within the insanely whirling funnel of air, however, the breeze died down until Val's hair was barely fluttering. She took another sip of tea, seemingly oblivious of the chaos and carnage taking place around her.

"Kirin," the male wind-scarred, Kiril, murmured in his soft voice. "Archers on the rooftops."

"Busy," his twin chimed lightheartedly. Her hands moved in elaborate motions, swirling as if holding a large ball before her, pulling it to the side. With a smooth flick of her wrists she extended both arms toward the back of the tavern, where Ernest had taken cover behind the bar. A pressurized blast of air exploded through the room, catching tables, chairs, the bar, and the bartender in a wall of force and fury. The back of the little tavern erupted in a rain of torn and splintered wreckage as the barkeep bounced a few times then landed in a boneless heap. The wind-scarred woman nodded in satisfaction, then sang out, "Rooftops you say, brother dearest?" Kiril paid her no mind and she laughed a musical laugh, her hands gathering the wind for another strike.

Ezra watched as an archer took careful aim and managed to hit one of the guardsmen, only to be swatted from his post on the roof in an explosion of cracked tiles and irresistible force as Kirin's attack dented the building beneath his feet.

"Blight and thunder," Mat whispered in shock as the chatter of automatic weapon fire began to ring through the town square. The small army Val had brought with her formed up, using their superior weapons and training to brutally turn the tide of the sortie outside the twisting wall of wind. Ezra counted two of them on the ground, not moving. Another one was grimly pulling an arrow from his leg, murder in his eyes.

And still the townspeople fought, madly trying to make it through the guards. Those few who did were flicked away by concentrated blasts of air or torn from their feet mere steps from the fire-kissed's back and tossed around like toys. Val poured herself another cup of jasmine tea, holding it up to her nose and inhaling the scent serenely.

Something was nagging at the back of Ezra's mind. "Um... why are their guns working?" He turned to Mat, who looked at him in surprise, then narrowed his eyes at the courtyard.

"I don't know," Sarah hissed between gritted teeth, furious. "They shouldn't be. It doesn't make any sense." She slammed a fist down next to her as one of the men who had tailed her and Mat was gunned down mercilessly.

"It's gotta be because the fire-kissed is so blighted calm," Mat said slowly. "That was probably the whole point of this." He clenched his fist tightly. "Those guns look brand new. I bet this whole thing was a setup so that the little kissed princess down there could see how well her Sanctuary-made firearms work when she's around."

"Thundering hell. Get out of there, kid," Sarah whispered softly. Ezra turned back toward the three elementalists, and watched as Jeremiah made his uncoordinated way out from under a table, inside the circle of calm. He looked around shakily, and then miraculously pulled up a cocked and loaded crossbow from the tangled mess of furniture. Kirin trilled out a merry laugh and rounded on him, only to come up short as Val raised one hand, setting her steaming cup down carefully.

"Oh, don't be like that," the fire-kissed pouted at the terrified young man, velvety voice caressing the words. "Wouldn't you rather come join me for a nice little... chat?" Ezra gulped as the promises implicit in that enticing voice pricked the ears of his inner neanderthal and set it beating its chest.

"I-I don't have nothin' to s-say to you." The crossbow waved wildly as Jeremiah trembled in fear. "Nothin at all!"

Val made a fascinating little sigh of disappointment. "I was so hoping you and I might be friends. Come, sit," she cooed. "Tell me about the fire-kissed who burned this valley to the ground. I should very much like to meet someone like that." She tossed her hair and cocked her head toward the boy, arching her back ever-so-slightly. Ezra could imagine it having a devastating effect on someone in front of her. "Wouldn't you like to tell me?"

The crossbow stopped wavering and settled on Val's heart. "You won't lay a finger on Stephen, you blighted witch," the awkward teenager whispered fiercely. The weapon twanged as the arrow shot forward.

And exploded in a burst of flame.

"The arrowhead," Sarah gasped as something tumbled free from the cloud of fire that had been a crossbow. It bounced once on the table in front of Val. There was a distinct clink as it hit the cup of tea. The steaming cup tipped, wobbled on its edge, then fell, spilling the hot liquid across the little table.

And directly into the fire-kissed's lap.

Val gasped, pushing away from the table and looking down at her dress in disbelief. "How dare you!" Her voice rang with pure outrage. Jeremiah stumbled to his feet, hands and face burnt and blistering. He leaped over a fallen chair and started running for all he was worth.

He managed to take two steps.

A pillar of white hot flame shot up where the gangly teenager had stood, bathing the embattled town in heat and light. Mat and Ezra were forced to step back, shielding their faces, as Sarah cursed and jerked away from the scope. The fire burned for a heartbeat then vanished, leaving a blackened circle and nothing else. Everything went silent and still.

"Bad things happen," Mat almost prayed, fear etched in his face as he stared down at the golden elementalist.

The sounds of fighting were quickly replaced with screams as the townspeople began to run for their lives. Ezra looked on in horror as the guards lifted their guns, lining up shots on the fleeing people. A trigger was pulled, accompanied by a loud clicking sound but no bullets. The guard holding it looked down at his weapon in confusion as his neighbor's gun exploded, tearing into the face and arm of the man who had tried to fire it, eliciting shrieks of pain as he fell to the ground.

Through the scope's audio beam the team heard Val snarl as she gestured absentmindedly toward the ravaged guard. He went up in a ball of fire, leaving only blackened bones behind. The rest came suddenly to attention, although several dropped their weapons in the process. "Kiril, Kirin, round them up," Val shouted to the two wind-scarred. Mat pushed Ezra to the ground as one of them took to the air after the faster villagers. "Check the blighted houses," the Besmirched screamed at the guards. "I want all of them out here, now!"

The surviving townsfolk were pulled, prodded, or dragged into the town square in a frenzy of activity, lined up, and pushed to their knees before Valerie Estavon. Sarah eased back into position with the railgun, and the fire-kissed's voice abruptly sounded in their ears. "–and I don't want to spend any more time in it than I have to," her previous throaty purr had given way to an authoritative voice as she paced before the assembled town. "So, I'm going to ask you a question. You will answer it quickly and honestly, and I will let you all live." She stepped up to a battered man at one end of the line. Ezra recognized him even from a distance as Ernest, the barkeep, bloodied and bruised but somehow still alive. Val stroked the side of his face in an almost soothing gesture. Her fingers slid around the back of his neck and tangled playfully in his hair. "Where is the fire-kissed?" she cooed.

Ernest wobbled a bit and coughed. Val's fingers tightened in his hair, pulling his head back sharply. "Where is the fire-kissed?" Val repeated more slowly.

The beaten man spit at her, only to have his act of defiance caught by the wind and thrown back in his face. Val let his head drop and began walking to the next person in line. As she did, tendrils of flame wrapped around the broken man. He screamed and thrashed, trying to escape, but the fire continued to slither over his flesh like a burning serpent. As his cries became more and more desperate and his voice cracked in terror, the elementalist grabbed the chin of the old woman Stephen had helped, pulling her face around roughly. "Where is the fire-kissed?" she asked again in the same maddeningly gentle tone.

Ezra felt his fingernails bite into the palm of his hand, arms shaking in anger.

"Whazzat... wha's goin' on," Stephen slurred as he startled awake, bound legs kicking weakly.

Val's head snapped around, her golden eyes fixing directly on the bell tower.

#  Chapter 49

## Complications

"Taking the shot," Sarah murmured. The railgun made an odd zapping sound as it kicked back into her shoulder. Both wind-scarred thrust their hands out and the bolt slowed to a stop a scant few centimeters from the fire-kissed's face. A tiny spark of electricity licking out from it to sting her nose.

The beautiful woman stumbled back in shock, staring at the thin piece of metal for a brief instant before it rocketed away, spinning back toward the team on a wave of air. Mat pulled Sarah back from the edge, as the shot clipped the stone arch of the tower, sending out a shower of sparks and broken stone. It ricocheted into the bell, letting out a responding tone as it bounced harmlessly away.

"What is that?" Stephen yelled over the bell's deep gong as it swung back and rung in earnest.

"Ezra! Get us out of here!" Mat shouted, blood welling up along his cheek where a flying shard of rock had cut him. Ezra fumbled with his controller, coordinates already set for their jump to safety. Sarah leaned back to scoop up the weapons she had left on the floor, hands shaking. The portal materialized around them, and Ezra thought he might have seen the flash of a black robe cresting the tower before the scene was replaced with the cool quiet of the cave, their skiff idling a few meters away.

Ezra took a deep, shaky breath as he tried to get his heart rate back under control. Sarah let out a breathless laugh and swept him into a fierce hug, kissing him hard on the cheek before grabbing Mat and pulling him over too. Her laughter turned to sobs after a few seconds, then she let go and waved them both away, wiping her eyes. "I think," she said, swaying on her feet a little, voice exhausted, "that we should get out of here."

Mat stared at her for a few moments in silence, then burst out laughing, deep and rich. Sarah's face quirked as she tried to hold her own laughter in, but it still spilled forth, merry and delighted, a celebration of life. Ezra looked at the two of them like they were crazy, but the smile on his face quickly evolved into a few chuckles, and it wasn't long before he was wiping tears of relief from his own eyes. They all took a few moments to catch their breath then mounted up on the skiff, Mat navigating them back out of the cavern.

"By the way, Hawkins," Sarah said, eyes dancing. "You should really be careful with how much time you spend in the sun, especially after ill-advised swims in freezing pools of muck. You've got a fever again."

"Blight and thunder," Mat exclaimed, swerving and narrowly missing a rock before he straightened out. "Again? I swear, Ezra, you're the most delicate Legacy pansy I've ever heard of. And thanks to your brilliant plan, we're out of fever reducers, so if you get heat-stroke and pass out on me, I will personally help Sarah dunk you in waterworks until you're the color of puke."

"I keep everything we need right here." She tapped a storage compartment with her foot.

"Ha, ha, guys," Ezra said sarcastically, still smiling. "But it's no big deal. I mean, I've been sweating since the first night we were here. Once we get out of this blighted valley from hell and find someplace cooler, I'll be fine."

"Yeah," Mat snorted, "someplace cooler. Like after we got rained on for two straight days. You were doing great then."

Ezra searched around for something to throw at Mat, then started patting himself down in panic. "Oh no," he moaned. "I lost the book."

"Book?" Sarah asked.

"The Will of the Elements. And only three days after I got it too." Ezra groaned. "Gal's gonna kill me."

Sarah burst out laughing again as the mouth of the cavern yawned into view. "It's really not that funny, Sarah." Ezra scowled at her.

"No, it's not that," she gasped. "It's... just imagine the look on that fire-kissed bitch's face when she gets to the top of that tower and finds another fire-kissed, all tied up, with an old copy of the thunder-struck holy book."

Mat chuckled along with Sarah. Ezra really tried to be upset, but the image of the enraged Besmirched puzzling over the nonsense scene was just too much. He couldn't help but smile as they came back out into the afternoon sunlight.

==

They were forced to go about a hundred klicks in the wrong direction as they spent the rest of the day dodging two small black shadows that swooped back and forth across the valley, blocking the way they had come.

"We should be able to turn off once we get clear of those mountains to the north and head for the portal in the Faringway Hills." Mat scratched his stubble, looking the map over critically. "At least this way we won't be hunted by insane fire-kissed hotties and creepy wind-scarred twins. Still got a good three hundred klicks until we're in range to get a transmission through so the Guild knows we're coming, though. Unless..." He cocked an eyebrow at Ezra, nodding to the wormhole controller.

Ezra shook his head. "No way, it'll suck this thing dry and probably won't even engage a port for more than a split second. Plus, we'd have to leave the skiff behind, and I'm done getting yelled at for recklessly endangering Sanctuary."

"Yeah, I figured," Mat sighed, rubbing his head.

Sarah eased them along a narrow gully carved out by a little creek. The fire's ravages had suddenly vanished, leaving untouched ground all around them. Ezra wondered idly if it had been caused by a fire-kissed after all, from the way it seemed to have been directed down the valley toward the Helena. They'd started sweeping the area every few kilometers for any unusual heat sources as soon as they cleared the last of the blackened earth. So far, nothing had come up.

Ezra glanced at the maps. "So what's in the Faringway Hills?"

"Meteoric iron," Sarah said. "Lots of it. Or at least there was. Used to be a regular hot-spot of activity. The Besmirched were so keen to get their hands on the stuff that they took certain... liberties to encourage local cooperation. The Guild had a team out here at least once every other week dealing with one thing or another. Solid little city, Faringway. We have more friendly contacts there than on the rest of the continent combined."

"Some big-shot earth-crowned eventually came out there and settled it up for them. The town got a small fortune, and the crowned pulled about a hundred tons of the stuff out of the ground for the Besmirched and sent them on their way." He gave Sarah a very direct look. "We're not stopping there, Sarah."

"But... but Hawkins has never tried Black Crater triple malt!" Sarah protested. "We can't go past Faringway without stopping by to see old Lou. She'd never let us hear the end of it, and it's been ages, Mat." Her tone turned pleading. "Please? Just five minutes, for old time's sake."

"You can get Blair to send us out there some other time. We don't have to go within a fifty klicks of the place, so we won't, not while we've got information this hot."

Sarah grumbled for the next few hours. Daylight faded and the lightly wooded terrain became increasingly littered with rocks and boulders. They skirted around a small mountain that gave way to a flat plain. Off in the distance, like some giant's graveyard, huge rectangular shapes, some leaning at odd angles, stood out against the twilight sky.

"What is that?" Ezra asked in a hushed voice.

"One of the old cities," Mat said reverently. "From back before the war."

"Do you know which one it is?" Ezra's eyes were still glued to the bizarre skyline, black against deep purple. "Have you ever explored one?"

Mat shook his head. "We don't really go near them. No one does. Something about them just feels... wrong." He shivered and pulled his coat around him more tightly. "Anyways, we should be close enough to send a message through to Sanctuary now. Ezra, care to do the honors?"

Ezra connected to the skiff's net and broadcast a quantum tunneling message to the location of the wormhole. The message would find the connection path, made more obvious due to frequent use, and transmit the information back to Sanctuary instantaneously. "Um, this is Ezra Hawkins from research team eleven, calling home. Come in home." He waited for the response.

It didn't come.

#  Chapter 50

## Static On the Wind

Mat frowned at the display. "That's weird... here, Ezra hand it over, you probably did it wrong." Ezra shrugged and transferred the communication interface to Mat. "Attention Sanctuary, come in Sanctuary. Research team eleven requesting information, over." They stared at the interface in silence for several minutes.

"There might be... a mountain or something in the way." Mat said doubtfully. "Or... I don't know, some kind of anti-wormhole thing blocking communication?" He turned hopeful eyes to Ezra.

"Um... well, I mean, all matter has some quantum uncertainty..." Ezra began cautiously. Mat's face fell, and Ezra hurried to amend, "But of course, it could cancel itself out! There are practically an infinite number of possible pathways between any two points in space that wouldn't support a wormhole, so it's not... terribly surprising that the transmission would fail..." Ezra intentionally failed to add that there were also a limitless number of paths that would work just fine.

"Right," Mat said a little more steadily, slapping his knee. "So we just wait a little while and try again, no problem." Ezra nodded slowly, worry gnawing at his stomach.

They tried making contact again every five minutes for the next two hours. Finally, Mat dismissed the terminal in frustration. "Why don't they answer?" he growled. "We're within a few klicks of the portal, but without a connection to Sanctuary we can't even tell exactly where it is." He peered out into the gathering darkness, scowling up at the light cloud cover. "We may as well stop here," he called over to Sarah. "We can look around for some landmarks in the morning." Sarah nodded woodenly and began reducing their speed.

"Wait!" Ezra said, pulling out his wormhole device. "I know it's not perfect, but my controller already finds the best quantum tunneling location when it creates a portal, so if I slow the process down so we can watch it happen..." The holographic display lit up with data, mapping out the best places to begin a wormhole and telling him nothing useful. He frowned at it, then slapped himself in the forehead, "Of course, it would help if I expanded the range of the sample data. Then we can use it to track areas of higher quantum uncertainty, and using a regression mapping algorithm I should be able to–"

"Hawkins, try again, this time like you're talking to people who don't have degrees in wormhole travel." Sarah sounded tired and grumpy.

"Yeah, man, slow down," Mat said. "I thought you said you couldn't create another usable wormhole from the skiff's remaining power supply."

Ezra blinked at him, then shook his head. "No, I'm not trying to... ugh, okay, listen: wormhole creation 101. When a portal is formed, it's created using the path where the most quantum tunneling has occurred, right?" He looked expectantly at his teammates. Mat shrugged. The controls of the skiff creaked under Sarah's hands. "Right," he continued, "and repeated wormholes make those connections stronger, because we're artificially creating more pathways between the two points. So what I'm going to do is..." Ezra's hands flew as he adjusted the settings on the controller, then linked it into the skiffs network and sat back, looking smug. A wavy line displayed, meandering in a definite direction off to the northwest. "Map out a path of increasing quantum uncertainty density, which should lead us back to the wormhole." He frowned a little. "In theory, at least. This is kind of like using a mass spectrometer to approximate a dog's nose."

Mat and Sarah exchanged looks. "Well, better than what we had five minutes ago. Way to step up, Ezra." Mat clapped him on the shoulder, then went back to scanning the landscape.

The skiff slowly followed the path Ezra had indicated, until Sarah barked out a laugh. "There! I recognize those blighted rocks. They look just like Blair's forehead when he frowns." She elbowed Mat in the side. "Remember that time that we were walking back to the port and playing that drinking game? I got you and Rob so good with that one." Sarah froze for a moment, then blinked slowly. "So good," she whispered, looking back toward the cusp of rocks. An uneasy silence settled over the skiff.

"I hope the townspeople are all right," Ezra said softly. "Stephen too."

Mat looked at him miserably, then rolled a shoulder in a halfhearted shrug. "Well... the villagers probably made it through okay. The ones that were..." He coughed and cleared his throat. "She really only seemed interested in finding the other fire-kissed, you know? She didn't give a blighted damn about the rest of them. As for Stephen... well..." Mat sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Bad things happen. You just gotta roll with the punches. I mean, at least he got carried off by a really, really sexy lady, right? And he's a fire-kissed, so they won't do anything too bad to him..."

Ezra was about to say something when Sarah cried out, "It's here! Just over that ridge!" The skiff picked up speed as she hurried them toward the wormhole home. They crested the hill, headlights turned on to get a view of the area, and Ezra looked around expectantly, trying to spot the portal rods.

He found them fairly easily, all things considered. Of course, they were in about twenty pieces, and scattered around several blackened patches of stone. Oh, and still sparking, as it they had been recently overloaded.

Or struck by lightning.

Mat stared at the ruined wormhole devices, then mechanically called up the communication interface. "Sanctuary," he whispered. "Sanctuary, this is research team eleven. The portal rods at our location are not functional, and our skiff will die before we can make it to an alternate spot. Sanctuary, please respond." The trailing end of his communication was met with ominous static.

He glanced back at Ezra as Sarah rested her head lightly against the skiff's forward paneling.

"Hello?" the communicator crackled to life. "Is there some... –stening?"

Mat grabbed the open terminal, smiling broadly. "Sanctuary? Come again, you're breaking up. We have some interference out here from–"

"–under-struck. Need immedia–" Static cut through the transmission for a several seconds. "–mhole was destroyed. Repeat, we were ambush..." Ezra sat bolt upright, eyes glued to the communicator.

"Mat, that's not Sanctuary," he said, voice remote. "That's Gal."

#  Chapter 51

## Reunions

"Bighted thundering hell," Mat swore loudly. "This is not what we need right now!"

Ezra sat staring forward, thinking furiously. "We should... we have to go out there after them."

"Hawkins, believe me, I want to help Gal and her team just as much as you do," Sarah said, voice calm. "But you can't let emotion cloud your judgment. We are in no position to fight a thunder-struck. We should find a place to hide and try to make contact with Gal's team, but right now we have information that the Guild, maybe even all of Sanctuary needs to survive. We need to play it safe."

"No, listen," Ezra said quickly. "You're right, we aren't prepared to fight a thunder-struck right now. But they are." He pointed emphatically at the silent console. "Also, any thunder-struck in the area clearly knows where the wormhole was. They'll be blocking us in, killing transmissions. It's their standard modus operandi once they know the Guild is involved. I've also read mission reports that suggested they can track any transmissions we try to send, blocked or not. Which means that they're probably heading here right now, so we need to leave." He raised a finger into the air. "And, the only skiff that could possibly get us out of this mess is currently in the possession of Gal and the rest of combat team thirty two."

Sarah blinked at him a few times, then looked helplessly at Mat. "I'm with Ezra on this one," he said, wearing a feral grin. "Plus we owe those strucking bastards for Rob."

Sarah's mouth hardened into a thin line, but she nodded and began running diagnostics on the origination point for Gal's transmission. "They must be out in the hills, holed up somewhere... probably underground." She shook her head. "I can get us close, but it's still going to be tough to pinpoint them."

"Let's get started then," Mat said with a grim eagerness. He began rooting around in their gear. "I'm pretty sure I grabbed a bandolier of non-conductive bolts for the manual bolt throwers. Ah ha!" He pulled out his prize and began removing the metal darts from two hand-sized weapons. Sarah held out her hand and he slapped one of them into it, fully loaded. She checked it, grunting in approval, then began pulling out various dart guns and crossbows which had been secreted on her person, tossing them to the floor. Ezra looked over to find Mat doing the same and started to unbuckle his sword. "No," Mat stopped him with a word. "The hilts are non-conductive, and the blades are only semi-conductors. Plus, if you're close enough to have a chance to use it, you're gonna want it."

Ezra nodded slowly. "Anything else I should know about what they can do? I mean, I've read the mission reports, and a couple of squads noted that some thunder-struck can even discern electrical impulses from the human body at a short range, do I need to cover up, or... I don't know, hide near conductive metals?"

"Those are definitely the exceptions, Hawkins," Sarah snorted. "One thing you should be aware of is the way that they think. A thunder-struck is a lunatic. They are absolutely convinced that they are in the right, that there's some god watching over them. That said, they know what can shut them down. Most have very little control over what they do. They're always on, all the time, and you can get them to shock themselves without too much trouble. A thunder-struck will usually run if it's raining, or if there's too much metal in the ground, but..."

"Hoover," Mat said, checking over a little bolt-thrower.

Sarah nodded. "The more powerful ones can turn off their ambient electricity, the halo that marks them. Those ones are bad, but they still can't fight effectively if you give their currents somewhere better to go. Once, in a little town named Hoover, we ran into this Daughter of Lightning." Sarah paused as she guided the skiff through a small ravine. "She didn't look like anything special, but we managed to take out a bridge and drop her into this lake. I don't think..." She shook her head.

"She performed electrolysis on the spot," Mat said softly. "We had to shut down all our communications and run, weapons and skiff dark. She had been playing us the whole time, was listening in on our chatter... we high-tailed it back home and got three other teams involved, and she still went down hard." He gave Ezra a sickly smile. "So keep your guard up, no matter what."

Ezra met Mat's eyes and nodded seriously, going over everything he'd read about thunder-struck as the landscape drifted past.

As they skimmed toward their destination, Mat pulled the railgun's scope off and began scanning the area, switching between night and thermal vision. Ezra glanced around nervously. A few moments later Mat hooted in triumph. "I see her! Over there, half a kilometer, at the ridge of the crater!" Ezra squinted in the direction Mat had indicated and saw a dark shape rise to its feet. A cloud passed from in front of the moon, illuminating Gal, adorably spunky haircut bobbing as she ran toward them, arms waving. Ezra frowned, it almost looked like she was waving them away...

"–away!" her voice came through their communicators as Mat activated the audio beam. "You have to get away from here! They can track your communicators!"

The hair on the back of Ezra's arm started to raise, and it took him a confused moment to realize that it wasn't in fear. Sarah slapped at the back of her neck. "Mat," she snapped, jumping to her feet, then spinning and kicking Ezra hard in the chest. And straight over the side of the skiff. She and Mat were diving after him before he hit the ground.

It was not a moment too soon. Lightning arced from the clear sky, transfixing the skiff as thunder crashed through the quiet night. The little ship began veering wildly as it was struck again and again. The air crackled and buzzed as the skiff clipped the edge of the crater, tumbling out of sight. Several heartbeats later, it exploded with a brilliant flash of light and heat. Gal reached them and groaned. "No no no. No!" she screamed. "That was our chance! Why didn't you come like we told–" Her eyes widened as she recognized Ezra. "Ezzy?" she squeaked. "But... why would they send out a research..." She trailed off as she took in their travel stained appearance and lack of any significant weaponry. "Oh... oh no. They didn't send you. But that means that you were out here..."

"We had a bad encounter with some fire-kissed and wind-scarred back in Helena," Mat said gravely. "Couldn't get back to our wormhole home, so we headed this way. Any port in a storm."

Gal grabbed Ezra in a fierce hug, then quickly pulled his communicator from behind his ear and crushed it. "Oh, but this is perfect!" she said suddenly. "You'll have a set of rods! You can set them up and we can get the hell out of here!" Gal's laugh was sudden and nearly infectious as she threw her arms around Ezra's neck and kissed him hard.

Ezra placed his hands on her hips and slowly pulled her away. She gave him a questioning look. "Gal, we... we don't have any. I'm sorry."

The spunky girl looked briefly crestfallen, then her face resolved into a tight little smile. "Well, at least you're here. We'll figure something out, even if it means walking to the nearest port." She smiled brightly at Sarah, hand tapping Ezra's shoulder. "The beasts of burden here can carry us lovely ladies."

Sarah smiled a little at that, and Mat chuckled under his breath. Gal nodded her head back toward where she had been waiting. "Come on, you two can lug my stuff for me. Seb's waiting back at our lair."

#  Chapter 52

## There's No Lair Like Home

"Lair, huh?" Sarah looked around the little cave skeptically. "I bet Seb made you call it that, didn't he, Gal?"

Sebastian had been drinking from a shallow pool in the floor when he heard them enter the room, letting out a laugh of joy and sweeping Sarah into a hug before energetically pumping Mat and Ezra's hands. "I thought we were lost out here, and now here you guys are, sneaking in at the dead of night. You have no idea how happy I am to see you all."

"Seb," Gal said gently, "they're not the rescue team."

"Oh... well, if you can't be with the ones you want, want the ones you're with, right?" He chuckled then shot Ezra and Gal a mock-serious glare. "Except you two. What are the blighted odds of that."

"Oh man," Mat exclaimed excitedly. "You guys still have a power generator!"

"Yeah," Seb glanced over his shoulder to where the battered generator was humming away over by the cave's wall. "What about it?"

"Ezra, the wormhole controller! Get us out of here, man!" Mat was grinning from ear to ear.

Seb gave Ezra a dumbfounded look as Gal nearly tackled him in another hug. He smiled broadly and reached into his jacket... and found nothing.

He frantically patted at his jacket, then groaned in disbelief. "We used it to find the portal back to Sanctuary. It was on the skiff when..." There was no way the delicate piece of machinery had survived the crash.

"Can you build another one?" Sebastian asked eagerly.

Ezra gave him an incredulous look. "You don't have to answer that, Hawkins," Sarah drawled. "We all know Seb's an idiot."

"But we could try to go back for it," Mat said quietly. Ezra looked Mat in the eyes and saw a reflection of his own thoughts, but nodded anyways. What they needed right now was hope, and it was shaped like the wormhole controller.

"I don't know," Gal said with a frown. "It won't be safe to wander out there just yet. They've been hunting us for a few days now, and they got pretty close out there with the skiff."

"We could get help from town," Sarah said. "Lou owes me a good turn from the last time-"

Sebastion shook his head sadly. "Lou's dead, Sarah. There's no-one left to help. The blighted thunder-struck got them all."

"What?" Sarah's face went pale. "Everyone? How could they have..." She suddenly whipped her head around, scanning the cave. "Where's Xavier?" Gal and Sebastion remained silent, staring at the floor. "What happened?"

"Five days ago," Sebastion began slowly. "God, has it already been five days? We were sent out here looking for a fire-kissed. Figured that the Besmirched had run out of iron or something and had come back for more. So we got here and I set up as spotter but, I mean... it didn't seem like we needed one. It's Faringway, for thunder's sake," he spat.

"Xavier and I went in, doing the traveling performers bit," Gal continued softly. "I was juggling and he was tumbling. They all started clapping and circled around us..."

"Everything looked fine," Seb said bitterly. "We couldn't have known."

Gal nodded. "They went from appreciative audience to angry mob in a heartbeat... I got lucky. It turns out big, burly men aren't so tough when you nut 'em with a flaming torch."

Mat and Ezra both flinched a little and Seb laughed darkly. "Our little Doe was a regular whirling dervish; they were only too glad to let her go. I covered her as she made it out. Then our skiff went offline and I heard my railgun begin to hum... I remembered the talk Blair gave us about using them when a thunder-struck was around, and threw the strucking thing as hard as I could." He chuckled to himself. "I think it blinded the elementalist bastard who was sneaking up behind me when the capacitors went up. I slit his throat and ran like hell."

"We met up at our secondary spotting point," Gal picked up the story. "Took inventory, then got close enough to town to see what we could do for Xavier." She shook her head. "They had him tied to a stake, and a thunder-struck was standing over him, giving this speech about how soon Lightning would smite the unfaithful, that the days of the Forbidden City were numbered. Then he told Xavier to repent." The corners of her mouth turned up in a sad little smile. "And oh, he repented. He repented for doing the thunder-struck's mom nine ways from Sunday in excruciating detail. He asked if anyone had a sister, so he could repent about them too. He leered up at the sparky prick, just daring him to do it, and the blighted struck called lightning down on his head..."

Sebastian laughed mirthlessly. "...and blew himself and half the town to kingdom come. Xavier used to complain about how it wasn't fair that they all got to blow up when they died, while we had to eat it quietly like normal people. The lunatic must've been packing some serious volatiles, and while he was tumbling too. The blast left a crater in the town inches deep. After that, we ran. The portal was already blown, so we went to ground. Gal found us this cave, with a bunch of nice metal deposits running throughout it that should limit what a struck can throw around without grounding himself out." He nodded to the little pond. "Fresh water, too, fed by an underground current. We scavenged what we could from our skiff the next night; apparently no-one out there was willing to go near it. I set up a potential power grid like you showed me, Mat, to power the lights and listen for friendly chatter."

"And the crème de la crème," Gal announced with a flourish. "Enough explosives to bring down the mouth of the tunnel leading in, with a remote trigger. The cave system behind us is massive, but we found an exit under a bunch of foliage next to a little river, in case we need to rabbit." She smiled broadly. "Better than home."

"We should really get back to the skiff," Ezra said softly, looking around. "The sooner the better. We have... information that needs to get back to Sanctuary right away... and that controller is our only practical way out of this. If it's there, and they take it or destroy it..."

Sebastian looked at Gal. "I'd rather wait until tomorrow night, but if we're going to do this, we better do it now," she said. "We won't have a chance in broad daylight, and we'll be pushing dawn as it is."

Ezra nodded. "Let's get moving then."

==

"It shouldn't have been this easy," Gal whispered as they crawled to the edge of the crater. The sky was just beginning to brighten with early morning sunlight, making the shadows of the crater all that much darker. "There's no way they'd just let us have this thing."

"Even thunder-struck have to sleep sometimes." Sebastian pushed himself into a crouch. "Don't borrow trouble, Doe."

Sarah checked her bolt-thrower. "Okay, here's the plan: Mat and Seb make a run for the skiff. Gal and I will cover you from here. Ezra, stay out of the way."

"I'll need to disconnect the wormhole controller if it's intact," Ezra whispered urgently. "If there's a power surge and it isn't disconnected properly, it could short something out. We do not want to go messing around with wormholes using a damaged system."

"Ugh, fine. Ezra you can go along with them–"

"I'm going too," Gal said resolutely. "Seb's a better shot anyways."

Sebastian looked like he was about to argue, then shook his head, holding out his hand for the weapon. "Fine. You better keep them in one piece, Doe."

"Even Mat?" she protested.

"Just try to keep up, Doe-girl," Mat teased.

"On my mark," Sarah was already scanning the area, weapon held ready. "Three."

"Sword," Gal demanded, holding a hand out to Ezra.

He blinked at her. "But I–"

"Two." Sarah sounded slightly amused. Gal cleared her throat and looked expectantly at Ezra. He grumbled, but unsheathed his sword and handed it over.

"One." Gal flicked the sword through a few rapid figures, testing the balance. Ezra's body tensed, eyes focused on the crashed skiff.

"Mark."

#  Chapter 53

## From a Clear Blue Sky

Mat and Gal exploded from their cover. Ezra was shocked to find himself keeping pace with them. I guess all that training paid off, he thought as the thin layer of black gravel crunched under his feet. Thirty meters. Twenty. Ten. He could smell the smoke and see where a bolt of lightning had hit the skiff's plating, melting a hole clean through. Then they were upon it.

Ezra coughed, covering his mouth against the smoke as he vaulted over the side and rapidly searched the front console for the wormhole controller. Sarah shouted something from behind them, and Ezra glanced up.

Two thunder-struck emerged from behind the crater's lip, directly opposite where they had come from. The morning light briefly dimmed as a cloud passed before the sun, but Ezra could still clearly make out the Son and Daughter of Lightning, flickering halos of electricity illuminating their faces. A tiny, strong hand clamped around his upper arm and yanked him back behind the cover of the fallen skiff just as the first stroke of lightning fell. Ezra yelped as the blast pushed the skiff into his back, nearly knocking him over. A second bolt struck to their right, throwing up chunks of loose earth and searing a line across Ezra's vision.

Fingers of lightning flashed out above his head, hammering the crater where Sarah had been standing.

"Did you get it?" Mat yelled over the deafening thunderclaps that accompanied every strike.

Ezra shook his head. "It wasn't there, but it wasn't destroyed either! The console was off, it must have fallen out!"

"Blighted hell," Mat cursed as Ezra peeked through the hole in the skiff. The Daughter of Lightning was standing on the crater's edge, pointing imperiously at the skiff as bolt after bolt of lightning fell around them. Her partner was limping, and Ezra saw him pull a bloody dart from his leg, tossing it aside as he loosed a fresh volley of lightning toward Sarah's hiding place and continued stalking toward the skiff.

"Okay, one of them is almost here, what are we going to do?" Ezra glanced back and forth between the combat veterans. Mat nodded and drew his sword, staying low as he moved to the far side of the skiff. Another bolt struck a few feet from Gal and Ezra, hurling them apart. Gal fell into the wounded thunder-struck's line of sight, and he snarled as his hand extended toward her. Mat yelled and rounded the skiff, sword gliding up a textbook lunge. The struck saw him coming and adjusted his aim, catching the blade in a flickering cage of electricity. The sword was wrenched up into the air, pulling Mat off the ground as he held on for dear life, unwilling to surrender his weapon.

The Daughter of Lightning oriented on Gal, smiling cruelly and lifting her arm, sending streamers of lightning up into the clouds as she prepared her strike. She never saw Sebastian coming. His bolt-thrower hummed as it sent its deadly payload through her temple, dropping her instantly.

"No!" the Son screamed, releasing Mat and reaching for his partner. Her lifeless body arched as a tremendous bolt of lightning leapt up from it, blinding Ezra as he dove back behind the skiff. The air sizzled as the death spark answered the will of the Son of Lightning. He drove his fist into the ground and sent Mat, Gal, and even the skiff flying in a concussive wave. Ezra watched as the ship tumbled lazily over his head, dropping its contents all around him. Then he was alone with the thunder-struck. Power crackled madly through the air, buzzing and popping. The Son of Lightning held up a palm and electricity leaped to obey, coalescing into a ball that floated just above his hand. There was murder in his eyes.

Ezra scrambled away from him. I'm going to die, some part of his brain noted with clinical detachment, there is absolutely no way I can survive this. His hand bumped into something small and round, and he glanced at the broken storage unit behind him. Oh, that's good, another part of his brain chuckled, do that.

Ezra's fist closed on the lightly glowing orb. He rolled to the side and hurled the little globe at the thunder-struck. The elementalist's eyes flickered to the projectile and, from the writhing sphere of energy in his hand, a veritable blade of light flashed out. It sliced the waterwork in half, spraying luminous blue liquid everywhere. The Son's eyes bulged as he abruptly powered down, killing the electrical currents that crackled around him. He stared down at himself in confusion. "Wait," he said, picking at his clothing, "this isn't water. What do you–"

Ezra slammed the top of the containment unit into the man's head. Then he hit him several more times, just for good measure. He stood there panting, lid held poised and eyes glued to the man lying senseless at his feet. He nearly jumped out of his skin when Gal rested a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Whoa, settle down. I think you got him, Ezzy." Ezra let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and deflated a bit, improvised weapon falling from his limp fingers. "Next time," Gal said, eyes dancing, "I'm letting you keep the sword."

==

"Okay, I understand that because we couldn't find the wormhole thingy, we decided to get back to the cave and try to make a new plan. There's just one thing I'm unclear on: remind me again why we're keeping this one alive?" Sebastian muttered as he secured a pair of cables to the bottom of the little pool in their cave. "I'm nearly certain that he wouldn't have given a blighted damn about us."

"Because someone's been leaking information about the Guild's movements to these strucking bastards," Sarah grunted as she and Mat dumped the still unconscious man into the pool and began securing his arms and legs with the heavy metal cables they had retrieved from the skiff. "And it's past time that we got some answers."

Mat peeled back the thunder-struck's eyelid. "We're not getting them this morning," he said. "I don't have anything on me to get him up, so we're just going to have to wait it out." He shook his head. "Did you have to go all barbarian on the guy, Ezra?"

"Sorry, Mat." Ezra winced as Gal pulled a makeshift bandage tight over a gash on his arm that he hadn't even felt happen. "The next time a crazy guy carrying a ball of lightning tries to kill me, I'll take a moment to consider the greater strategic value of only mostly incapacitating him."

"Well," Gal said, sitting back to admire her work. "I guess that means that we all get to sleep before a fun afternoon of interrogation?"

"With the added possibility of some mild torture," Mat growled. "I'll take first watch, you all get some rest."

"Wake us if he does anything funny," Sebastian yawned. "Like breathing too much."

Sarah checked the restraints again, then nodded and stalked over to a wall, sitting back against it and closing her eyes.

"Come on, Ezzy," Gal grabbed his hand and pulled him deeper into the cavern. They wandered through several twists and turns. "This place is more a maze than anything else. You'd be amazed how fast you can get out of earshot in here."

"That's... nice?" Ezra looked around in the rapidly darkening cave. "Shouldn't we try to stay close, in case something happens or he wakes–"

Gal pushed Ezra against the wall with a growl, pressing her body to him, lips cool and delicious on his mouth. She trailed a line of chilly kisses along his jaw. "You're so warm," she breathed into his ear, "I think I like that." She gently nipped his neck as her lips continued exploring him.

"Gal," he gasped as his hands wrapped around her sweetly curved waist of their own accord. "What are you–"

"That image," she purred, nuzzling his neck. "You, charging the thunder-struck with nothing but a waterwork." A shiver ran through her body. "Sarah said you were too brave for your own good, but I didn't know it would be so hot." Her nails left little thrills of sensation across his shoulder as her leg wound its way away around his.

Ezra tried to get his thoughts in order. He was pretty sure they were supposed to be doing something, but just couldn't remember what...

Her leg hooked behind his knee, forcing him to slide down the wall, easing their way to the floor. Gal straddled him. She shifted her hips maddeningly, grinding against him, and thinking became the last thing on his mind. Her eyes glimmered triumphantly in the darkness, swallowing him up in their depths as her lips curled into a knowing smile. She leaned down, all liquid grace, and pressed another soft kiss to his lips, hunger burning through it. Lithe and supple, Gal's body writhed sensuously against his, her wicked little mouth slowly tracing its way over his flesh. Every breath was a half heard sigh, a physical thing, tickling and arousing as her clever hands deftly removed the clothing between them.

Ezra lost himself, knowing nothing but the feel of her, the smell of her, the taste of her.

#  Chapter 54

## Was It Good for You Too

Ezra woke gently, feeling better than he could ever remember feeling. He glanced around. It was still dark? Oh, he was in a cave. So that was a rock digging into his back. In fact, now that he thought about it, his body was awash with aches and pains, so why did he feel so–

Gal stirred pleasantly beside him. "Mmm, you really are just so warm..." She yawned and stretched, body shifting sinuously. "A girl could get used to this." Oh, he thought in a happy haze, that's why.

She sighed and snuggled closer for a few moments, then slapped his chest lightly and rolled away. "Come on, get dressed," she said, clothes rustling in the darkness. "We should make a token appearance before they start really laying into him."

His eyes flew open as the events of earlier in the day came back to him. "Oh," he gasped, looking around for his pants. "Was it okay that we... um..."

"Well," Gal's voice was muffled as she pulled a shirt over her head. "You could use a little practice, but we can work on that later."

Ezra blushed furiously, dropping his shoe and knocking his head against the rock wall as he tripped over his own foot. Gal laughed richly. He could make out the shadow of her hips swaying as she started back toward the others. "Come on, Ezzy, let's get back to the real world."

Ezra felt a brief chill go down his spine, and peered back into the darkness further on in the tunnel. Not seeing anything, he shook his head and followed after Gal's echoing laughter.

==

"And what have you two been doing?" Sebastian asked, waggling his eyebrows as Gal and Ezra rejoined the group. "Aside from dodging your turns on watch."

"I was showing Ezra how a woman claims what she wants," Gal replied lightly.

Ezra blushed and mumbled something incoherent. Mat laughed and clapped him on the back as Sarah rolled her eyes. Sebastian smiled, then turned his gaze to the elementalist still chained to the floor. "'Bout time we woke him up. Hope you're not too tired, Doe."

"Oh, I'm always up for more," Gal stared at Ezra, licking her lips. He blushed harder, grabbing a canteen from Mat and quickly taking a drink.

Mat chuckled as he took the canteen back, then casually walked over and dumped the contents on the thunder-struck's head. The man woke up with a sputter, looking around blearily. Mat tossed the water container aside and cracked his knuckles. "What's your name, sparky?"

"What? Where... where am..."

Mat kicked him in the stomach, eyes hard. "I asked for your name."

Low, broken laughter wheezed from the Son of Lightning. "That's right," he coughed. "Now I remember." Electricity formed a halo around his head as the man suddenly pulled against his restraints. He screamed and went stiff, the water and metal conducting the lightning right back into him. He fell to his side, panting, his body steaming from where he lay, half submerged in the little pool. Mat looked on with an air of calm as Sarah handed him a fresh canteen, which he proceeded to dispassionately empty on the thunder-struck.

"Now listen, sparky," Mat said as he squatted down, still pouring water over the Son's head. "This doesn't have to be hard. You tell us what we want to know, and we'll leave you here. Maybe someone comes to get you, maybe someone doesn't. It's a better deal than you'll get if we stick around." He let the canteen fall straight onto the other man's face, sending it bouncing and rolling away. "So, what's your name?"

The thunder-struck wheezed out a weak laugh, "And I will be delivered from mine enemies, and see them cast down into the pit, that all may know the glory of–"

"Suit yourself." Mat grabbed the captive's head and slammed it against the stone floor, then stood and began kicking him.

Sebastion and Sarah rushed forward and grabbed his arms, pulling him back before he could land a third blow. "They were my friends you bastard!" Mat yelled. Gal jumped forward, thrusting her hands against his chest, glaring at him.

"Whoa, hey!" Ezra glanced down at the Son of Lightning, who was lying on his side, trying to curl into a ball, still laughing hoarsely.

"I'm cool," Mat said, shrugging his shoulders and taking a few steps back. "It's just... bad things happen." He paced over to a wall and punched it. "Bad things happen," he whispered to himself, haunted eyes glued to the wall.

Ezra eyed him warily, then turned to the thunder-struck. "Listen, we need to know: how did you know that we'd be here? Who told you?"

The Son of Lightning made his way painfully back to his knees, and gave Ezra a mad grin. "The Voice of Thunder hears all," he rasped. "You cannot stand against us. Lightning speaks, giving us the words you send through air. He bids us, His chosen, to hunt the blasphemers to the ends of the earth."

Ezra looked around, worried. "You're intercepting our communications?"

"You, who would dare to use the gifts of Lightning from the seat of His very throne." The elementalist's voice grew stronger as he spoke. "Your time is short upon this world. Lightning has made known His will, that those who would sin against Him and corrupt His gifts shall fall beneath His hand. Repent and be judged! Let the purifying will of the heavens burn away your unworthiness, that you too might know the majesty of the Great One!"

This was fast devolving into a sermon. Ezra sighed and shook his head. "What about whatever the other guy in town was talking about? The end of the Forbidden City or something?"

A maniacal gleam shone through the Son's eyes, his pupils dilating. "The great work of the Children. Even as we bring down your warriors in the field, the way is prepared by our Father. We know of your doors in the air. We know of your lifeless beasts of burden and your perverted mockeries of the chosen that spit fire and lightning and earth." His grin grew, nothing but teeth, as his eyes burned with an insane intensity. "And most of all, we know of your castle in the sky. We shall reach our hands up unto the heavens and bind it to the will of our Lord."

"And we shall bring it down upon your heads."

#  Chapter 55

## Imagine Meeting You Here

Ezra stared at the obviously unstable man before him. He turned back to the rest of the group. "Castle in the sky? What does that..." Ezra trailed off, his brain putting together the pieces. Doors in the air... wormholes? Lifeless beasts of burden, that must be skiffs. He supposed that modern weaponry would seem to be their means of imitating the power of elementalists. And so the castle in the sky... "The space station," he whispered in horror. "They're going to crash the space station into Sanctuary." He glanced at Mat and Sarah, their eyes widened with understanding. "Can they do that?"

Mat bit his lip, then wiggled his hand uncertainly. "Thunder-struck have worked together to do big things before. Their largest churches are all made almost entirely from metal that they've magnetized to hold. It's impressive stuff. But... they'd need some way to reach up that far... air is an insulator, so it would be working against them the whole way..."

Sarah shrugged. "They'd probably have to use the space elevator, but the carbon pico-tubes it's made of don't conduct electricity. Doubtful."

Ezra got a sinking feeling in his stomach, remembering... "It's happened before, though," he said quietly. "It was an electrical discharge from the space elevator that destroyed the Millennial Legacy. I saw it happen."

"What?" Sarah's eyes snapped to him. "You mean you actually saw a current ride the elevator?" Ezra nodded mutely. "And you never told anyone? No, no I doubt they would have believed you in any case..." Sarah's eyes squeezed shut. "That's... that could be bad."

"Maybe you'd like to explain it to the rest of us?" Sebastian prompted.

"It's..." Sarah ran a hand over her hair, collecting her thoughts. "Okay, look, about a hundred and twenty years ago, my great grandmother theorized that, after sufficiently long exposure – say a few hundred years – to a sufficiently cold environment – such as space – the chemical make-up of our super solids would undergo a subtle shift, allowing for, among other things, conductivity. She wanted us to tear down the space elevator and replace it. But the Chancellor killed the project, saying it was a blatant power grab in the face of emerging wormhole technology. So... yes, it's possible, if they start high enough in the atmosphere."

"The space station's made almost entirely of ionizable solids too," Mat said, stroking his stubble in thought. "It had to be, to get all the pieces up there and in place efficiently. Get enough thunder-struck behind that... yeah, if they can reach it, they could pull it down. Wouldn't even be especially hard, at the point."

"Uh... this sounds kinda big, you guys," Gal said. "We should probably let someone know about this... like, as soon as we can."

Ezra nodded emphatically. "We better find out what else he knows," he jerked his head back toward the struck, who had begun laughing to himself again. "Any information is better than what we have." He turned and stalked back to the Son of Lightning, setting his jaw. "Now listen you." Ezra reached out to grab the man's shirt, intending to pull him up painfully against the cables. A spark of static jumped out and bit his finger. "Ow!" He stuck his finger in his mouth, scowling, then looked closely at the softly glowing man. His hair was dry. So were his clothes. In fact, he was only sitting in about a half centimeter of water, and the little liquid that remained was rapidly retreating along two small streams toward the back of the cavern.

"Water-seer!" Ezra yelled, stumbling back from their captive. The water left in the pool surged forward, wrapping around his foot and freezing solid. He stared at it in disbelief.

A blue-gray blur darted from the shadowed recesses at the back of the cave, a shimmering tail of liquid streaming out lazily in the water-seer's wake. Sarah yelped and took cover just inside the main tunnel leading into the lair, dropping to a knee and lining up a shot. The thunder-struck turned and glared at Mat, gritting his teeth. Gal tackled Ezra's teammate, knocking the two of them into Sarah as a bolt of electricity leaped from the Son's forehead, sizzling into the rock where Mat had been standing. The three of them fell out of sight, tumbling down the hallway leading out. The thunder-struck, still bound with conductive metal and sitting in a small puddle, jerked violently and bit back a cry of pain.

Sebastian moved fast. In the blink of an eye he had charged past Ezra, kicking the struck in the head and leveling his bolt-thrower on the seer. His shot flew true, only to be caught at the last second by a stream of water as his target bobbed and wove toward them. Seb was already reloading and preparing another round when a blast of water caught his hand and froze the weapon solid.

He took a swing at his opponent, but the water-seer smoothly danced under his arm, so swift and graceful that he could have been standing still. One hand flashed to his hip as the other blurred toward his throat, twisting upwards, and suddenly Sebastian was flying toward the ceiling. He hit with bone shattering force and plummeted to the ground, lifeless.

Ezra's body reacted before he could think. His sword flashed out, arcing in a deadly slash the instant the seer came in range. He may as well have been swinging a pillow. The seer skipped away lightly, one hand sweeping out to fluidly re-direct the sword's tip to the floor as the other gestured toward the ice currently binding the bolt-thrower. The frozen water flowed away from the weapon it held captive, catching Ezra's blade and anchoring it immovably to solid stone. Freed from the ice's grasp, Sebastian's hand fell open, the small crossbow dropping free, less than a meter away. Ezra released the sword and desperately lunged for the weapon just as two cool fingers pressed lightly to his throat. His body went rigid. He couldn't breathe. The ice around his foot melted away as the seer effortlessly lifted him, turning him around.

"Well now," purred a soft, feminine voice. "This is a surprise." Her free hand moved to lift away her deep hood. Glossy black hair spilled out to frame a lovely face; smooth, copper colored skin, marred only by three small, artfully arranged scars; stars resting above eyes like the ocean on a cloudless night. Ezra's heart dropped as he tried to speak. Or maybe scream.

"Hello, boy," Ariella said gently. "I hope you remember me."

#  Chapter 56

## Heroic Last Stands

The seer frowned, and Ezra could breathe again. "Ariella," he croaked, "you're looking well."

"Ah," the water-seer smiled serenely, "good, you do remember. And I adore wit. Please try to hold on to that as long as possible. It makes things so much more enjoyable, in the long run."

Ezra gulped. Note to self: stop trying to be clever. "How did you find me?"

"The will of the Mother. I heard of a disturbance in Faringway from an apprentice on his pilgrimage through the Midland Heights. It was not far out of my way, so I thought to investigate. Several of the villagers were happy to point me to where the Children of Lightning were hunting warriors from the Forbidden City." She shrugged her shoulders. "I had never hoped it would be you. But, where Water is willing, fate shows the way."

Ezra's eyes darted to where Sebastion lay. The young man's neck was twisted at the wrong angle, his arms and legs splayed bonelessly around him. He was obviously dead. The seer had killed him with no more effort than it took Ezra to draw a sword, and here she was talking about fate in that soft, gentle voice, as if to a child. She was a psychopath. He had pissed off a murderous, psychopathic water-seer assassin, who... Ezra blinked as Sarah's words echoed in his head. His tongue felt around inside his mouth, and he bared his teeth into something that might have been a grin.

"Release me," the thunder-struck hissed. "That I might take my vengeance upon these unworthy demons."

Ariella ignored him, tilting her head curiously at Ezra. "Oh? Have you found something that amuses you, boy?"

Ezra met her gaze and held it, letting out a low, mirthless chuckle as he did. "Why yes, lady seer," he answered, eyes never wavering. "I believe I have."

At that moment, Gal darted into the room from the tunnel leading out, barreling toward them and snarling, "Get your hands off him, you witch!" Ariella noted the swiftly approaching girl and rolled her wrist almost negligently, calling the water from Ezra's sword to form a blade of her own at her fingertips. Ezra bit down hard, activating the cap over his back tooth and hoping that it worked. An odd, prickling sensation passed through his body, like the one he had felt when he passed through the Sanctuary shield, only somehow in reverse. Probably because I'm entering a field instead of exiting one, some analytical part of his mind noted. He fell to the floor, the water-seer's grip on him suddenly released. Dropping to a crouch, his fingers closed on the hilt of his sword just as the liquid flowing from the seer's fingers splashed to the rock below.

The world seemed to slow down, focusing into a few, brilliant moments. Ezra saw the look of confusion on Ariella's face just as a bolt from Sarah's weapon impacted her shoulder. He felt the reassuring weight of his sword extending from his hand as he lunged forward, aiming at her heart. He felt the blade part her heavy robe, slicing upwards, biting into the soft flesh beneath.

But the water-seer was better trained than that. She spun with the motion of Sarah's attack, back hunching forward as she re-oriented her body, changing a fatal lunge into a painful slice drawn across her belly. Ariella's face contorted in pain, rage and, yes, a little fear as she landed awkwardly, stumbling away from Ezra. Blood welled up along the cut, seeping out to stain her beautifully patterned clothing as she fell back. Suddenly the world returned to its normal speed. Out of the corner of his eye, Ezra caught a glimpse of Gal sliding past Sebastian's lifeless form, scooping up the fallen bolt-thrower and letting fly at the downed seer. The elementalist's hand shot up instinctively to cover her neck and face.

And the water on the floor came with it, catching and holding the bolt.

Gal grabbed Ezra with her free hand, yanking him back toward the mouth of the cavern even as she skidded to a halt. They ran for all they were worth as Ariella screamed curses after them. Scrambling behind the wall, Ezra was caught by Sarah as Gal dropped into a shooter's stance, deftly reloading her weapon and holding it at the ready. "Steady," Sarah hissed at him. "We've got you." Her eyes darted to Gal. "Sebastian?"

Gal blinked hard and shook her head. Mat was lying against the wall, looking dazed, one hand held to his forehead. There was a little blood dripping through his fingers, a matching spot on the tunnel wall next to him. Ezra sheathed his sword shakily.

"Right," Sarah began, exhaling heavily, "we need to grab Mat and get out of here, try to lose them in the–"

A harsh, grinding sound cut her off. Gal shot them a warning glance then peeked around the corner. She pulled her head back almost immediately as a stroke of lightning crackled past. "She's sawing at the cables. Letting the strucking Son of Lightning up."

"Blighted thunder," Sarah cursed, voice weak. "And it's broad daylight outside. Getting away from the seer would have been hard enough, but the two of them..." Sarah trailed off, looking worriedly at Mat and Ezra. Her gaze touched on Gal and she narrowed her eyes. "Gal, what are you... no, don't you dare. Don't even think about it."

Gal was staring intently at something sitting just along the wall, barely visible around the corner. She licked her lips and nodded once, sharply, to herself. Spinning around, she grabbed Ezra and pulled him into a mind-blowing kiss. The heat of it, the burning passion, left him feeling weak in the knees. "Whoa," he breathed as she let go, unsheathing his sword and pulling it with her as she did. Her eyes flickered over his shoulder toward Sarah, a pleading look in them.

"I love you, Ezra Hawkins," Gal whispered fiercely. She shoved him in the chest, hard, then twirled and raced back into the room, diving and rolling past forks of lightning that couldn't quite touch her. Sarah's hand closed around his bicep like a steel clamp, pulling him backwards. A sharp twang sounded, the cables parting, and the thunder-struck let out a roar of triumph. Ezra reached a hand out toward Gal, confused, as he was forced relentlessly away, further down the tunnel. Gal reached the remote triggering device and hit it, turning back to smile heartrendingly at Ezra before raising the sword and bolt-thrower in defiance and leaping out of sight, toward the center of the room. The charges went off in a deafening tsunami of sound and force, flattening Ezra and his teammates to the ground as tons of stone fell, sealing the mouth of the cavern mere meters from where they sat.

Ezra blinked at the wall of rock in horror, the taste of Gal still burning on his lips. No, no that couldn't... not Gal. Oh please, not her. He turned on Sarah, eyes blazing in fury. She was stooped, supporting Mat's weight, eyes shining as tears glistened down her face. "I'm so sorry, Ezra," she whispered, choking as a sob wracked her body. "Please, please I need your help. I can't carry him alone, and w-we, we have to run. Please, Ezra, I'm sorry, please help me."

Ezra's anger left him. He felt viciously tired and horribly, horribly alone. No wonder Sarah is always so bitter, he thought. If she's been living with this feeling all along... it's amazing she can operate at all. He swallowed hard, straightening his spine and lifting his chin. His team needed him. There would be time to mourn later. He nodded and got a shoulder under Mat, lifting him and helping Sarah lead him forward one slow, shuffling step at a time.

Before they had gotten out of sight of the rock slide, they heard the sounds of explosive impacts from the far side, regular and chilling. They urged Mat to greater speed, glancing fearfully over their shoulders as the thumps of their enemies' power echoed after them. After a minute or two, they had gotten out of range of the noises, which was almost worse. By the time they reached the sunlit entrance to the cave, Mat was moving under his own power, if delicately.

Sarah scanned the area, holding her bolt-thrower low as she reloaded. "We need to get behind that ridge up ahead," she said, nodding toward of the lip of another crater. "I remember seeing another tunnel there. They'll expect us to turn left or right, to try and skirt the mountain then head to the forest. We can hole up for now, then double back into the cave system once we're clear. We stay out of sight, only drink water from containers, and keep quiet for a few days, then we can try to strike out for another portal."

Mat rubbed at his head and nodded gingerly. "Yeah, I... that sounds like a plan. Man, my head is throbbing." He squinted down at his hand. "Is that my blood? And why is the sun so bright?"

"He gonna be okay?" Ezra asked as they set off for the ridge at a gentle jog, to accommodate Mat.

Sarah let out a nervous laugh as they reached the ridge. "Yeah, if he can focus enough to complain, he'll be just fine. It's when Mat goes quiet that you really have to–"

The bolt-thrower clattered to the ground. Ezra turned to see Sarah, back arched in pain, as a bolt of lightning transfixed her chest.

#  Chapter 57

## For a Job Well Done

Sarah fell to the ground, body jerking in little convulsions. Mat screamed something as he pulled her further over the ridge, grabbing the bolt-thrower and taking up a defensive crouch over her body. Another bolt of lightning flashed from somewhere inside the cave, crackling through the air above them.

"No." Ezra felt numb, staring at his teammate's body. "Not like this... not like this."

Mat glared back at the cave, then turned to Ezra, eyes haunted. "Listen, Ezra, we're not going to be able to move her safely. I'm still too out of it. I need you to run. Get as far away from here as you can. Try to make contact with the Guild, try..." Mat swallowed and shook his head, as if to clear it. "I don't know, just try something."

Ezra stared at Mat, not believing what he was hearing. Run off on his own, leave them behind? He quickly scanned the land around them. Rock and dirt, everywhere. There was no way. He couldn't outrun the seer, even if he somehow managed to avoid getting fried by the thunder-struck. Another bolt of lightning buzzed out from the cave, flickering overhead.

And a quiet, child-like voice behind them said, "She doesn't look so good."

Mat and Ezra spun toward the voice, their faces masks of shock and disbelief. There, sitting calmly on the lip of the crater just behind them, was a little boy. His skin was as black as a moonless night. His eyes were a light, hazel brown. A mess of tight, wiry curls adorned his head. He looked questioningly at Ezra. "I don't think you're going to get out of this," he stated, almost sadly, completely ignoring the bolt of lightning that sizzled by not ten centimeters from his head.

"Ezra," Mat said shakily, "I think I may have hit my head harder than I thought." He paused, as if carefully considering his next words. "Why is there a little kid out here commenting on our escape?"

"I..." Ezra began, not knowing what to say. There was something so familiar about the boy, as if he'd seen him somewhere before. Ezra's mind worked furiously, trying to place the face. The little boy smiled broadly, white teeth gleaming in the afternoon light, and it clicked into place. Southedge. The boy who stood on the weather vane and then disappeared... it was him. Another memory jumped out: Helena, the little boy who had run into Mat, then turned and grinned... it was exactly the same smile. Ezra stared in open-mouthed amazement.

"But you know what would be really great?" the kid asked, eyes gleaming mischievously. "If you escaped." The wind picked up and something hit the ground at Ezra's feet. He and Mat looked down. There was the wormhole controller, completely undamaged. Ezra reached for it, hands shaking. It was real. He flicked it on, and watched in amazement as the display came to life. "How?" he whispered eyes looking up to the little boy, but finding only air where he had sat.

Mat gaped at the lip of the crater, then whipped his head back and forth, eyes searching. "Must've hit it really hard," he muttered. "Couldn't have been–"

He was interrupted as another fork of lightning exploded into the far side of ridge, kicking up a cloud of dirt and stone. The water-seer darted out of the cave, stopping to scan the area until her all blue eyes settled on them. Ezra could see the fierce satisfaction written on her face as she leaped into a sprint, smoother and faster than he would ever be able to manage. "Maybe now isn't the time to worry about it," Mat said quickly. "Ezra, you might want to get that thing working fast, or I doubt we'll have a chance to regret it."

Ezra was already working. He jumped back to the first coordinates in his log, drew power from the matrix that stretched out from the generator within the cavern, and connected the wormhole. The black rock and gravel underfoot was replaced with smooth, hard stone. The scene before them vanished, leaving a breathtaking view that had captivated Ezra so long ago in its place. Ezra grabbed Mat and Sarah, heaving them back into the cool, rocky side of the mountain behind them and disconnecting the wormhole as soon as they were clear. He let out the breath he had been holding in as a tiny laugh of relief, turning to look up at the overcast sky.

Mat swung his head around, trying and failing to figure out where they had ended up. "Where are... Ezra, where did you take us?"

Ezra gulped down his laughter, wiping at his eyes as all of the turbulent emotions of the day came crashing down on him, leaving him mentally and physically exhausted. "I didn't have any locations inside Sanctuary programmed in. I mean, I know them, mostly, but throwing a port to an existing terminal that's in range of my sensors is one thing. Picking out exactly the right coordinates is something else entirely. So I used one I knew would work." He gestured toward the gently swaying grass in the field far below, the line of trees off in the distance. "This is the first place I ever went outside of Sanctuary. The place where it all began."

"I don't see how this helps us..."

Ezra shook his head. "I can hack into any wormhole connection in the city from where we are. Jack a little power, and I can drop us anywhere in–"

"You should have seen her face!" a merry voice interrupted him, laughter bubbling through it. Just on the edge of the of the rocky shelf, the dark little boy stood looking out at the world. He turned to the team, enormous grin on his face, eyes dancing. "She screamed and screamed. Oh, it was priceless." He let out a long, delighted laugh.

Ezra found himself on his feet, wormhole controller gripped tightly in his hands as if it were a sword. How had the kid followed them? They were thousands and thousands of kilometers away... it didn't make any sense.

"It was all just fantastic. You know, I really worried when you decided to strike out from Helena. I thought that maybe the adventure was over," the kid continued, completely ignoring Ezra's reaction. "But then, there was more! You three, you're my favorites. Everywhere you go, it's always an adventure!" He vanished, and his voice suddenly coming from the far side of the ledge, where he threw a punch into the air. "Action!" Again he disappeared, reappearing behind Ezra. "Mystery!" Next he had his arm over Mat's shoulder. "And a little lusty romance," he snickered as he poked Mat in the side. Suddenly he stood back on the cliff's edge, arms spread wide. "The best I've seen in decades!"

Ezra's mind was whirling, trying to put things together. "Who... what are you?" he whispered.

Something changed in the little boy's expression. The smile altered slightly, no longer that of a pleased child, but something more... sinister, more knowing. The gleam faded from his eyes, replaced with something unreadable, unknowable, calculating and, above all, ancient. Those eyes were older than the stones behind their feet, old as the sky and the moon and the wind. "Ah yes," he said softly. "And you even spotted me, twice for that matter." He chuckled, a sound so filled with knowing intrigue that it could never come from a child. "Go on," he urged, "figure it out. I love it when your kind gets clever."

It clicked in Ezra's head. The book, The Will of the Elements. "Clever Wind," he breathed in disbelief, "swiftest of the Elements."

Wind threw back his head and laughed, clapping his hands with child-like joy. As he did so, he drifted off the ground, away from the ledge, until he was floating over open space. "You can't believe everything you read in Lightning's little book, though. After all," he sniffed, "I'm at least two hundred years older than him."

Ezra's mind was racing, trying to catch up to the ramifications. The Elements, physical personifications of nature... they were real. So Fire had really come to Stephen in the night. Earth had literally crowned Gaav. And what Wind had said... he had just implied that he was old, older than any record they had in Sanctuary. What kinds of questions could he answer? What light could he shine on...

Something tickled at the back of Ezra's mind, some question he'd been carrying with him. Mat's words echoed in his head: When man controls nature, every disaster in man-made. "It was you." He looked at the floating boy in horror. "Southedge. Helena. You killed the village elders. You made that firestorm, you tried to destroy the city. That's why there wasn't a wind-scarred, or a fire-kissed, because it was you, the whole time."

Wind gave Ezra a crocodile smile, eyes glittering maliciously. "Oh very good. I was afraid that you might not notice my hand in things. Did you like those two? I personally thought that giving the little knife-scarred piece of mortal trash something to take credit for was inspired. And using fire to ravage that pathetic valley, what did you think of that? Forcing the tart to pick someone in a hurry. She's so good about following the Pact and never interfering directly. And it pinned the blame on him so nicely in the process. You should hear him scream; Val is a genius when it comes to breaking a man. I love watching her work."

"Why?" Ezra croaked. "All those people. Why would you..."

"I was bored," Wind shrugged, looking for all the world like a kid trying to amuse himself with whatever was at hand. "I can only watch you grubs running around for so long before I have to do something, or I'll simply go out of my mind with–"

Something flickered past Ezra's ear, and one of Sarah's wicked daggers sprouted from Wind's left eye. His head jerked back sharply, and he tumbled out of sight. Ezra shot a startled glance back at Sarah, who was gritting her teeth against her obvious agony as she tried to get her other knife out.

Then that sinister, delighted laugh rolled up from below. The boy floated back into view, plucking the knife from his eye and toying with it absently. He wasn't bleeding. He wasn't even hurt. "Insolence!" he cried out, a merry peal of laughter accompanying the word. "I adore insolence! Do you know how long it's been since anyone has dared to be insolent with me?" His eyes narrowed on Sarah's prone form, his voice becoming quiet, dangerous. "I think that deserves a reward."

The wind on the little plateau picked up suddenly, throwing Mat and Ezra back against the wall and pinning them there. Sarah let out a gasp as she was lifted from the stone in a tiny whirlwind, hovering a few centimeters off the ground. Wind regarded her thoughtfully, knife tapping his chin. His free hand flicked at the wrist, and a long, smooth cut curled its way across Sarah's forehead, around her terrified eyes, splitting into elegant, fractal-like spirals as it traced its way over her body. Delicate whirls of crimson stood out against her pale flesh, only to be covered by a sheet of blood flowing from the impossibly fine cuts above.

She began to scream.

#  Chapter 58

## The Big Man Himself

"Sarah!" Mat cried hoarsely over the rush of wind. Her body began to slowly turn as the cuts worked their way around, shredding her clothing as graceful patterns etched their way into her skin. "Let her go!"

Wind didn't respond. He just continued staring at Sarah, an artist focused on his work. Ezra struggled against the invisible bonds of air holding him in place. If he could just load his wormhole hacking program, maybe... just maybe. He winced as Sarah ran out of air, her scream dying off. She took a ragged breath and began anew. It seemed to go on forever. Mat somehow managed to get the bolt-thrower aimed at the immortal child. The dart launched out, and passed through the boy as if he wasn't there at all. He may as well have not been, for all that he noticed. Finally, Wind nodded and they abruptly fell free. "Done," he sang out.

Ezra didn't care. He leaped toward Mat and Sarah, activating a portal as he went. It didn't matter where they ended up; anywhere was better than here. The sound of Wind's laughter followed them as the mountainside was replaced with a perfectly cultivated lawn. Ezra killed the wormhole, eyes darting around. The university plaza. Inside Sanctuary. He let out a sigh of relief. They were safe, at last.

The DOLT agent on duty at the university port station gave them a look of startled terror. Someone screamed. Ezra looked down. Sarah's blood was everywhere. She lay listless on the smooth surface of the terminal's floor, breath coming rapidly, tiny whimpers of pain escaping her lips. As he was tackled to the ground by an officer of the law, Ezra considered the possibility that he just might have a difficult time explaining all of this.

==

"It's over now, you Legacy piece of garbage."

Ezra sighed, rolling his eyes toward the door. Back in the interrogation room, again. With Jeffries, naturally.

"I knew you were sick," Jeffries spat, "but cutting up the Hughes girl like that? They're going to give me a freaking medal, Hawkins. We've had a warrant out for your arrest, but of course, you know that. Assaulting two officers, impeding an investigation, and now this. I don't know how you've avoided us for the past week, don't know where you were hiding... but this is it, game over. Your accomplice has already told us everything. The best you can hope for is life behind bars, but only if you come clean right here, right now." Jeffries tapped the table for emphasis.

Ezra looked at him in amusement. He knew that the man was doing his very best to be as intimidating as possible, but he just couldn't bring himself to even feign fear. Compared to the last few hours, Jeffries was more of an annoying insect than anything else. If you can't burn me to cinders, flay me to the bone, or stop my heart with your mind, Ezra yawned, you really just aren't that scary.

"Gonna play it like that, huh? Tough guy, trying to be all macho and silent," Jeffries chuckled as he shook his head. "Ezra, Ezra, Ezra. What would your parents say if they could see you now?"

Ezra grinned at the obvious attempt to get a rise out of him. He snorted, trying to hold it in. Then Jeffries scowled and opened his mouth to launch into another angry tirade. That was it, the last straw. Ezra burst out laughing, laughing himself breathless at the impotent man. He pounded the table as Jeffries fumed at him. One look at the enraged officer was enough to send him into a fresh bout of merriment. Jeffries growled something under his breath as he stormed out of the room.

Ezra's laughter slowly died out. He remembered the last time Jeffries had been sent storming from the room. Mr. Blair, and his offer that had started all of this. He remembered Gal, and sobered immediately. Gal, with her playful smile and teasing manner. Gal, wearing those ridiculous sunglasses, looking smug as a cat in the sun. Gal, who had loved him, even if he hadn't really known it, loved him so much that she was willing to die to save his life. It had always seemed like she was playing a game, just an idle way to pass the time. He blinked at the tears that stung his eyes.

The door to the room slid open. Ezra looked up, expecting Jeffries or, if he was lucky, Mr. Blair. Instead, a distinguished older man stepped into the room, flanked by two efficiently dangerous looking men in black suits. The elderly man was fit, his full head of hair a stately silver and matched by a neatly trimmed beard. His eyes were a faded gray, like a cloudy day threatening to burst into sunlight. He looked grandfatherly, smile lines wrinkling his face as he saw Ezra, who abruptly came to his feet.

"Mr. Chancellor, sir," Ezra stammered out, stunned mind reeling. Why was the leader of Sanctuary here? What did it mean?

"Please, Ezra." The man gave him a reproachful look. "None of that here." Ezra's eyes bulged as the Chancellor set the wormhole controller that the DOLT officers had confiscated gently on the table. "Not after everything you've done for us." He took a seat and gestured for Ezra to sit as well. The guards stayed at attention by the door.

"I, uh... yes sir," Ezra gulped. Was he talking about the Guild? "Sir, um... if you don't mind my asking, what are you doing here?" Ezra winced, realizing how presumptuous the question sounded the moment it left his lips.

"Well, young man, I understand that you and your friends had a bit of an adventure," the Chancellor said. "And I just wanted to assure you that I'm doing everything in my power to help you in this time of trouble. I've spoken with your friend, Mr. Matanane, and while he is still suffering from some minor head trauma, he was able to give me a reasonable accounting of what happened out there."

Ezra blinked at this. Normally, mission reports were only given to Mr. Blair, directly. He supposed that the Chancellor of all Sanctuary was high enough on the food chain to merit hearing them first-hand himself, but still...

"And let me just say," genuine compassion filled the man's voice as he continued, "that I am so sorry for your loss. Galois Doe will be sorely missed in the trying times ahead."

Ezra stared ahead blankly as a fresh wave of sorrow and guilt washed over him. He woodenly nodded his thanks to the Chancellor.

"I hate to see young people like yourself drawn into this war. It's a cruel, vicious fate that has led us here, but your people need you, son. They need your strength and resolve." His regal head shook sadly. "I've tried my best to make things better, done everything I could, but it's just never enough."

Ezra swallowed, summoning up the courage to speak. "Sir, you're right. I don't know how much Mat told you, but the thunder-struck are at war with us. They've been intercepting our communications and sending out teams of their own to ambush us in the field. They–"

The Chancellor waved his hand dismissively. "Not just them, Ezra. Everyone out there. All of the elementalists, every single one. And they're not even the worst, oh no. The people, Ezra, the ones who betrayed us for nothing at all, not even the blessings of their dark gods. Think of what they did to your friends, your allies. Make no mistake, they are our enemy."

Ezra came up short at this. That wasn't what he meant. He continued carefully, glancing at the guards. "Well, that may true, sir. However, the thunder-struck are preparing something. Something big. We need to come up with a way to deal with their plans, or else Sanctuary could be destroyed."

The elderly man nodded. "Yes, and I'm very proud of you and your teammates for discovering this plot. I have to say, it presents us with some unique opportunities."

"Opport... sir, I'm not sure that I follow."

The Chancellor smiled benevolently at Ezra. "You know, ever since your parents died, I've always thought of you as a son." Ezra raised an eyebrow at that. Certainly, he had met with the Chancellor a few times, but he wouldn't exactly say that they had a familial rapport. The man must have taken his raised eyebrow as an unspoken question, and answered what he thought Ezra was asking. "Mr. Hawkins, do you know my family's Legacy? It's true that we've always been in charge of the operation of Sanctuary, even from the beginning, but do you know how we got there?"

Ezra shook his head mutely.

"My forefathers were the leaders of the first and last line of defense against the Elements, back when it was only the five of them, terrorizing the world at their whims." He rose and began pacing the tiny room. "We've always remembered, you see. Remembered our ancient enemy, remembered the people who just gave up, who refused to answer the call to fight back and reclaim our planet. They are nothing more than corroborators, Ezra, willingly allowing the Elements and their minions to conquer and dominate the world." He shook his head in frustration. "I've tried to convince Mr. Blair that we need to be more proactive, really take the offensive, but he never listens." He sighed, then smiled slyly. "But they don't remember us, do they? Give them a little time, and they start fighting amongst themselves." The Chancellor tapped a finger to the side of his nose, smile growing. "And that's why we've been arming them. Give them weapons, point them at each other, and they do our work for us. It's the best we've been able to do, but it's never been enough. But now, with this plot that they've hatched to pull down the space station..."

Ezra felt his heart drop to his feet. Oh no.

The Chancellor grinned sharply. "Now, we finally have the means to strike back."

#  Chapter 59

## Hobbies

"You see, we've been thinking too small. Not looking at the bigger picture, as it were," the Chancellor continued vigorously. "You, of course, know what it's like to lose a loved one at the hands of those monsters. And yet we've always focused on trying to cripple their infrastructure. But I can see it clearly now: our enemy is more than just the people out there, wallowing in their filth on this miserable, backwater planet." His eyes gleamed as he came a stop, resting a hand on the chair beside him. "Our enemy is the planet itself. The planet that raised up the Elements against us, the planet that cast us down, condemned us to this mockery of an existence a thousand years ago. And now, those thunder-struck fools are going to do our job for us. They're going to help us kill the planet."

Ezra stared at the man in front of him, his sense of horror mounting with every word. Kill the planet? Well, certainly, dropping the space station into the upper atmosphere would wreak havoc on the Earth's ecosystem. Never mind the impact, which would be like a massive meteor and could easily trigger an ice age all it's own. Just the air compression of something that large would create an almost unbelievable amount of heat. It would sear away all life, turn the world into an oven. "But, sir, um," he tried to phrase this as delicately as he could. "We live on the planet."

The Chancellor chuckled. "You see? You're not thinking big enough. The Sanctuary shield, boy! It will protect us, only in earnest now. Certainly, it won't last forever, but we can finally give up on this world, free ourselves to explore the cosmos and colonize new worlds. Think of it! Our planet gave up on us; it's past time that we gave up on it."

Ezra nodded slowly, watching the man across the table from him carefully. The Chancellor was clearly insane. In fact, Ezra considered, I seem to be running into far too many insane people recently. Is that a reflection on my own sanity?

"But of course, we're going to need your help." The crazy man gazed off into the distance, his voice passionate. "Can I count on you, young man, to do what must be done? I know it's a terrible price to pay, all those people in the space station, but we cannot afford to tip our hand. In every war there are casualties, like your Miss Doe. We can bring this war to an end, finally, after a thousand years. We can stop the suffering. We can make those lives mean something. They will become martyrs for our cause, and spur the Legacy houses into a united front as we leap from our treacherous world to claim humanity's destiny. " He looked at Ezra expectantly.

Ezra realized the Chancellor was waiting for an answer. He cleared his throat. "Well, sir... you know that I always have Sanctuary's best interests at heart."

"I'm glad to hear you say that, son." A smile split the old man's face. "We've already begun work on rockets that will catch the station and carry it through the atmosphere to impact somewhere safe. Even bring it down ourselves, if it comes to that. This is an exciting time to be alive." He strode energetically to the door, then turned back to Ezra. "Are you ready to change the world, my boy?"

Ezra panicked for a moment. He needed more time, he had to think of something. "If you wouldn't mind, sir..." What would he believe? Think Ezra, think! His eyes flitted to the controller in the middle of the table, and he got an idea. "I just need a, uh, moment to myself. To mourn the loss of Miss Doe, sir."

The grandfatherly look came back. "Of course, take all the time you need. We'll be right here, just outside the door, when you're ready." He and his guards paced from the room, the door whispering shut behind them.

The instant they were gone, Ezra grabbed the controller and dialed home to his lab, frantically making a mental checklist of the things he would need. He hacked a connection, stole the power, and vanished from the little interrogation room.

==

"Where is it?" Ezra growled under his breath. He had torn his room apart, but the mission reports were no-where to be found. "I know I left them right here." He kicked at the chair in frustration, bumping something on the far side.

A dim light shone, and a quiet voice brightly chirped, "Hi! I'm having the most amazing Founder's Day..." Ezra gasped as memories hit him like a truck. He carefully moved the chair and pulled up the holo-cam, his eyes coming to rest on Gal's elfin face flirting with the camera. A lump formed in his throat as he watched her whole performance.

He stayed that way for several minutes, then very gently removed the data card from the camera, tucking it safely into a pocket. He took a deep breath and shook his head, glancing around the room forlornly.

"–and let us know if you see him," the Chancellor's voice sounded outside the room. Ezra froze. "We're very worried about his mental condition, after what he did to that poor Hughes girl." He was getting closer!

"Of course, sir," Kirsten O'Donnell's tone sent a warning shiver down Ezra's spine. She sounded like the perfect subordinate, competent and used to being trusted. Ezra's heart sank as he scanned the room for some place to hide. "I will keep my eyes open for Mr. Hawkins."

Too late! The door to his room opened, and Kirsten stood there, looking poised, a vision of executive efficiency and style. The Chancellor's richly cultured voice flowed from a translucent display in front of her. "Of course you will, Miss O'Donnell." His tone was that of a man just reminding himself of something he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt. "We all know what a dedicated and loyal worker you are."

"Yes, sir," Kirsten answered softly, brilliant emerald eyes fixed on Ezra. "Without dedication and loyalty, where would we be?" The call ended as the screen disappeared.

"So." Ezra lifted his chin and tried to look as if he wasn't ready to wet himself. "This is how it ends."

Kirsten's eyes flashed dangerously as she closed the gap between them and slapped Ezra across the face. He blinked away tears from the stinging impact, then turned to face his secretary just as she gathered him into a fierce hug. "I was so worried," she whispered. "First the warrant, then you were gone without a trace, and everyone who might know where you were was gone. Now this business with Sarah Hughes." She stepped back and looked him directly in the eyes. "Tell me where you've been," she demanded, then produced the missing data sheet seemingly from thin air. "And explain to me what this thing that no-one can read or even begin to decrypt is."

Ezra gulped. He was getting an awful lot of mixed messages here. Better stick with tragic hero. "I can't do that, Miss O'Donnell. You'll just have to turn me in, like your boss told you to."

Ezra could almost feel the heat of her sudden anger. She shoved the data sheet into his stomach, staggering him, then punched him across the jaw, hard. His head spun as he fell to the floor. Kirsten began to curse as she shook her hand, bringing it to her mouth to delicately suck on one the knuckles. Still she trembled with fury, glaring down at Ezra. "Don't you ever imply that I would turn on this house," she hissed at him.

"But I thought... the Chancellor..."

"Ezra," she interrupted him curtly, taking a deep breath as she forced herself to calm down. "Let me tell you a little story. There was once a girl who fell in love with politics. Her parents were scientists; nothing special, just lab grunts, but they loved their little girl and did everything they could to support her. But one horrible day, there was an accident in their lab. Both of the girl's parents were killed, and she was left alone, an orphan. She knew the law. The Legacy house responsible for the lab would pay her a stipend, and she would become a ward of the city. Her family was gone, her dreams of politics were ended, her life was over." Tears welled up, making Kirsten's eyes sparkle, beautiful and heart-wrenching. "Then the little girl was invited to the greatest Legacy house of them all. And the wonderful people there... they sat down with her and told her how sorry they were, how they wanted her to know that she wasn't alone. They asked her what she wanted, and she told them. The very next day she was transferred to the Special Division training program. Everything was paid for. The girl worked and worked until she was the very best." Tears began to stream down her face, but she pressed on as if she didn't notice. "Then another horrible day arrived. The wonderful Legacy people died, and their only son was left alone. The girl requested to work with him. To help him. She knew what she was supposed to do, what she had been trained to do. Subvert the family, attach it to a house loyal to the Chancellor, and build the government's power base. But she never did that. She worked and she slaved and she did everything she could to help the boy grow into a man his wonderful parents would be proud of. She gave everything she had for the family that had given everything to her. That little girl would never betray them."

Ezra was humbled by the passion of Kirsten's words, by the intensity behind them, giving him a glimpse into what made her who she was. Years of trying to groom him to be a man others would envy, to make the Hawkins Legacy the greatest there ever was or ever would be. And here he was, wanted by the Department of Ordinances, by the Chancellor himself, accused of horribly mutilating another human being, bringing shame and disgrace upon everything his parents had built.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered. "Kirsten, I'm so sorry that I doubted you. I know that I'm not... what you wish I was. But I promise you, I am doing everything in my power to do what's right. Please believe me when I say that I can't tell you what that is right now. I swear upon the memory of my parents that one day I will explain everything to you, but right now I just don't have time." He swallowed and looked down at the data sheet. "I need to find Mat, and I need to find Sarah, and we need to get somewhere safe. I wish I could tell you more."

Kirsten studied his face for nearly a minute, then nodded and pulled up her net interface. "Mr. Matanane left a message for you. He said that he had been released with a clean bill of health and would be training, if you wanted to meet up with him."

Ezra thought about what that meant for a moment, then asked, "What were his exact words?"

Kirsten deftly pulled up a screen. "'Dearest Kirsten, light of my life and fondest hope of my heart, I must apologize for my recent absence and hope to find you in–'"

Ezra cleared his throat. Stupid Mat. "You can skip that part, Miss O'Donnell. The part about training, though..."

Her lips quirked up slightly as she scanned the rest of the message. "Ah, here it is. 'I will be training in various and sundry locations, should you wish to join me.' That's all it says."

Ezra nodded confidently. "Thank you, Kirsten. I... will be going away for a little while. You won't be able to reach me, but I hope that I'll be able to find some way of contacting you." He called up a set of documents he had prepared for this occasion. He'd planned to give them to Mr. Blair, but now... "Until I return, I am naming you the caretaker of my family's Legacy." Kirsten's gasped, eyes fixing on Ezra as he made the documents official. "You will have full access to everything, to be used at your sole discretion. In the event that I do not return, I trust you to see to the disposition of the family's assets and data banks. Please act as you see fit, Miss O'Donnell."

"I... that..." Her eyes rounded with genuine fear. "Where will you... no, you're not telling me that. Damn you, Ezra James Hawkins." She spun on a heel, pulled up a new terminal, and began entering data furiously. Pausing just outside the room, she turned her head, displaying a lovely profile. "Will that be all, Mr. Hawkins?"

Ezra gave her a sad little smile and nodded. The door slid closed, and Ezra went back to work.

#  Chapter 60

## The Road Goes Ever On

"And she just let you leave?" Mat asked incredulously as he scanned a set of consoles in front of him. "No passionate good-bye kiss or anything?"

Ezra smiled wryly at Mat. "If she'd tried it, I'm pretty sure I would have died from the shock."

"Wasted opportunity there, man," Mat shook his head. "Blight and thunder, I can't believe the Chancellor was in on it the whole time. And there I was, just giving him what he needed to know. He deserves that strucking Besmirched princess he's in bed with." He paused for a moment and the corners of his mouth ticked up. "Well, you know, if she was ugly."

A soft noise sounded from outside the room they had appropriated, and Ezra whirled toward the door, leveling a gun on it. The footsteps passed by and he relaxed a little. "How much longer, Mat?"

"It's not like circumventing hospital data security is my specialty, Ezra," he scowled. "It'll be done when it's done."

Ezra nodded, checking his wormhole device again. "I just hate to think about what kind of twisted experiments they could be performing on Sarah. We practically handed the Chancellor a captive wind-scarred, and he's not going to pass up something like that just because she only got that way by fighting against Wind himself as best she could."

"I know, I know. I just... got it! Room five seventeen, the coordinates should be... there! You get that?"

Ezra punched in the coordinates for the hospital room. Just as he was about to engage the wormhole, the door slid open. Mat and Ezra responded immediately, guns coming to bear on the intruder with trained precision. Mr. Blair stepped into the room, seemingly unconcerned. The door whisked closed behind him. "Mr. Hawkins, Mr. Matanane," he said severely. "Explain yourselves at once."

Ezra glanced at Mat, who nodded to him. "Well, sir, we came across some... rather interesting information in our last field mission, from which we have just returned."

"Yes, yes," Mr. Blair motioned irritably. "I've already read Mr. Matanane's mission report. I imagine you've found the answer to your question about where the elementalists come from, Mr. Hawkins. What I am wondering, gentlemen, is what you are doing right now in one of my away team staging areas armed to the teeth and hacking your way through Sanctuary hospital security."

Ezra swallowed at the lump in his throat. "Sir, it's... the Chancellor. He came to my interrogation room." Mr. Blair's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "He has all of the information about the last mission. Sir, he's the one who has been supplying the Besmirched with weapons. He plans to use the thunder-struck attack on the space station to end life outside Sanctuary, then leave the planet behind. We have to stop him, sir. And we have to stop the Children of Lightning too." He looked at Mr. Blair defiantly. "I don't think that you're with him, sir, but I can't let you stop us. They have Sarah, and we're getting her out."

Mr. Blair crossed his arms and drummed his fingers for a handful of seconds. "Well, I always knew that this was a possibility. The Chancellor has long pressed for a stronger field presence, and less regulation on the use of extreme force. The Millennial Legacy project was his idea, you know. A step toward space expansion that was," he glanced apologetically toward Ezra and cleared his throat, "prematurely terminated. All right then agents, if it wouldn't be too much trouble, please, tell me your plan. Will you try to assassinate the Chancellor himself, then launch a campaign of destruction against the strong points of the Children of Lightning?"

"Uh..." Mat shuffled his feet sheepishly. "We... hadn't thought quite that far ahead yet, sir."

Mr. Blair smiled slightly. "If you wouldn't mind, I do have a few thoughts on a suitable course of action for an event such as this. It's important to note that this problem is a bit larger than the Guild of Sundry is equipped to deal with. Your first steps should be securing outside help. You will at the very least need to gather a talented group of wind-scarred and fire-kissed to mitigate any potential damages should the worst case scenario come to pass. I am not personally acquainted with Miss Valerie Estavon, however judging from your report, you may wish to approach the Beloved on the fire-kissed front." He pulled up a net interface and typed in a few commands. "They are based in the city of Blessing. We've never had a chance to get very close, so proceed with the utmost caution. Go to the city of Eastpoint and make contact with a group called The Eye, they may be able to supply you with the wind-scarred you will need. Tell them that I sent you, and try to keep an open mind. They are not exactly the most... reputable group of individuals. After that, you'll just have to play it by ear."

Mr. Blair opened a new screen and frowned at it slightly. "I've taken the liberty of preparing a long-range skiff for your travel needs. With consideration to the usefulness that your controller displayed, Mr. Hawkins, I've supplied several over-sized power generators, along with solar, wind and hydroelectric recharging capacities. It will be waiting, unguarded, in the hangar bay. And for the love of all things holy and some that are not, do not return to Sanctuary until this situation has resolved itself. I cannot protect you from the Chancellor within this city." He came to attention, and saluted sharply. "Good hunting, Agent Matanane, Agent Hawkins. Give my regards to Agent Hughes." With that, he turned and left the room.

"Well..." Ezra stared at the closed door for several seconds. "That was... entirely more helpful than I expected."

"I wish more people would surprise us like that," Mat agreed. His eyes flitted to his private time display. "We should get moving. The sooner we get Sarah out, the better."

"Right," Ezra connected the wormhole, and the sudden antiseptic scent of the hospital filled his nose.

Mat's mouth quirked. "Smells kinda like home," he said wistfully.

Sarah was a mess. The blood had been cleaned up, and she was dressed in a hospital gown, but every inch of exposed skin was still a hideous pattern of rent flesh, whorls of red cutting through her fair complexion. Mat checked the various displays monitoring her health, then nodded. "Nothing wrong with her, other than... you know. She's not on any kind of life-support, just a mild sedative to help with the pain and keep her sleeping. I should be able to..." He fiddled with a display, then pulled out a small syringe. With practiced movements, he gave her the injection and disposed of the used needle.

Sarah's eyes fluttered open a few seconds later, and Ezra clamped a hand down on over her mouth. She grimaced in pain and shot him a hateful glare, then tapped his hand lightly. "Sorry," Ezra whispered, drawing his hand away.

She punched him in the arm and winced as her hand struck. "Where are we?" she asked, then glanced down at her arms and froze in horror. "Oh god," she breathed. "Am I... I'm one of them now, aren't I?"

"Sarah?" Mat caught her eyes, which were beginning to well up with tears. "I need you to listen me, this is important." He quickly explained about the Chancellor, the guns and the space station, and Mr. Blair's assignment for their team. Ezra listened at the door for anyone approaching. "We're not leaving you here Sarah. You're coming with us, one way or another. We're a team."

Sarah cursed as a stray tear fell, salty water hitting one of her cuts. She blinked her eyes clear and nodded to Mat, who quickly began modifying the consoles around her. "I think I can give us a little time, if I can loop the data from your vitals for the last few hours and then we–"

"Shh," Ezra hissed. "Someone's coming!"

From the hallway outside, Ezra heard a pair of footsteps approaching. "I just don't understand it, Mr. Chancellor." A doctor's voice was muffled by the door. "It's almost like there's something flowing through the cuts that's keeping us from healing them properly. I'm afraid that the girl is going to have some fairly serious scarring over her entire body."

"Well," the Chancellor's kind, grandfatherly voice intoned, "I know you're doing the very best you can. I'll have my private physicians take over the poor girl's care. You just leave everything to me."

Ezra's eyes widened as he searched for the door's locking mechanism. He hit it, and immediately turned his attention to the wormhole controller, scanning the Guild of Sundry area for the deepest and furthest port – the one that should be the hangar bay. "No time," he muttered to Mat and Sarah. "The Chancellor is right outside the door."

"That's odd..." The doctor's voice trailed off. "This door shouldn't be locked. Hold on, let me pull up the access code."

A shuffling noise came through the closed door, followed by a heavy pounding. "Ezra Hawkins." The Chancellor's voice was stern. "I know you're in there. Just come out now and I promise, no harm will come to you or your friends."

Ezra ignored him. The wormhole engaged and the trio left the hospital, the Chancellor, and Sanctuary behind.

# About the Author

## That Wasn't an Ending, You Jerk

Sky Luke Corbelli is probably a bad person. I mean, seriously, did you see how he ended the book? What a jerk.

He lives in sunny California with his beautiful wife, writing code, playing chess, reading, swimming, and generally wasting time whenever possible. He grew up at the San Francisco Zoo, where he tried to set some kind of record for being bitten, scratched, constricted, quilled, footed, or otherwise assaulted by more animals than most people could shake a stick at. Sometimes he climbs mountains. More often he plays video games.

Oh, and he would also like to thank you for taking a chance on an indie author. He knows there's lots of stuff to read out there and is honestly thrilled that you decided to read what he wrote. He sincerely hopes that you enjoyed the beginning of his little story and looks forward to sharing the rest with you. You should be able to find it wherever ebooks are sold. You know, if you're into that kind of thing...

You can find whatever else might be going through his head at his website (www.skylukecorbelli.blogspot.com). Sometimes he even updates it! Feel free to stop by and tell him what you thought about the book, he'd love to hear from you.

Last, but not least, turn the page to get a look at The Will of the Elements, Book 2: Water-Seer.

## Burning to Please

"I'm tired of going over this," Valerie Estavon rolled her eyes and tossed her idly curling hair in irritation. "There was barely enough time after the attack for anyone to reach the door, much less escape. So I'm going to ask you again; who tried to kill me and where did they go?"

Stephen cringed. It was going to be one of those days. "I swear to the Mother and all the Elements, I've told you everything I know!" His voice cracked in fear. "There were three of them. They knocked me out. When I woke up, they asked me some questions about the fire. That's all I remember, you have to believe me!"

He cast a desperate look at the gorgeous fire-kissed, leader of the Besmirched, a woman with power beyond his understanding, and winced. She was toying with one of the knives that Velor had set out. That was never a good sign. He tried to gulp down his perfectly rational fear and bulled ahead. "I-it's just like I said. I hadn't recovered from being kicked in the head, and I didn't see everything clearly, b-but the three of them just huddled together and then they were gone."

"Stephen, honestly," Val chided him, the flickering light from the torches playing shadow games across her fair features. "The story about a door in the air? Again?" She shook her head, pursing her perfect lips. With a sigh, Val glanced up at the early morning light that shone in through a window high on the wall. Stephen felt the delicate brush her power as the torches dimmed, letting in more natural light. From outside, the clanks and whirs of the city of Eastpoint waking up to a new day began to fill the air.

Stephen's eyes darted around the room. No no no, the shadows are all wrong. Panic fluttered in his stomach as he carefully tried to judge the time by the light from outside, from the way it hit the rough stone walls of the little room. I need more time, then maybe it won't last quite as long. He shook his head against the thought, casting a mournful glance at the restraints around his wrists. If I can't keep her attention, she's going to–

"I'm very disappointed in you, Stephen. A month and a half in my care, and still we have nothing to show for it." Val made a disapproving sound as she played with the gleaming knife. "After what you did back in Helena, I really expected so much more." She held out the wicked little blade, sighing again.

A man stepped out from the shadows, taking the knife with a small bow, his cadaverous face stretching into a smile. Velor, Stephen thought, trying to inch away from him. The man caressed the dagger, long, spindly fingers tracing the length of the blade as he waited patiently for the inevitable.

"No, wait!" Stephen cried out, forcing himself to look away from the man. I have to pretend like he isn't there, he thought desperately, wracking his brain for something to keep Val's attention. As long as she's interested, she won't let him– No! Don't remember that! Can't remember... "I-I've just remembered! They, um, they were upset about something. Yes! Something that they saw when they were watching your procession. And... and the dark one, he called the girl... Susan, no, Sally... Sarah!"

He licked his lips, eyes darting to the tray of meticulously arranged tools. Don't think about those. He looked up into Val's golden eyes, pleading. I just need to keep her talking, his mind raced for something to say. Sooner or later, she'll leave, and the longer she talks, the less time she has for me. "H-he wanted the girl to see something. And... and, I don't know, I remember something about a sanctuary or weapons–"

"Velor, I'm afraid that's all we'll get out of him today." Val shook her head sadly, cutting him off. Stephen's face paled as he tried to think of something, anything that would keep her attention. "I just don't know what to do with you, Stephen. I've tried everything." She took a dainty step around the table and gently caressed his face.

"P-please," he whimpered, staring into her eyes. "I don't know what you want from me."

"Just the truth, dear one," the elementalist cooed, brushing a stray lock of hair back from his face. "I want know what you saw, and I want to know why you're holding back." She smiled winsomely at him, then continued, in exactly the same tone of voice. "Velor, please start with something hot. Maybe if we give him a bit to build on, he'll show us something new."

"No no no, please," Stephen struggled against the bonds on his arms and legs as Val backed away, an apologetic smile on her lips. He watched in horror as the knife began glowing a dull, sullen orange in Velor's hand. In desperation, he called to the heat in the room, tried to fight back, to get free, anything. Val's will clamped down on his attempt like a vise, stopping him cold.

"Yes, that's good," Val encouraged him. "Just show me a glimmer of the power that burned out that little valley, and I promise that I'll take you back to my bed, just like when we started." She glanced at the window again and pouted fetchingly. "No gag today, Velor. It's so nice outside." Valerie Estavon sighed, eyes returning to Stephen. "I want everyone to hear his lovely voice."
