“Mommy… is Daddy going to be home soon?”

  Little Marcielle was wrapped tight in her blankets, her mother’s arms draped around her, holding her close. They had made it safely back home, but even though they were far from the epicenter of the attack, they weren’t completely untouched by its effects. The panic had spread like wildfire, rippling through the higher districts of the city. People scrambled to flee, to barricade their doors, to make sense of the horror that had unfolded in the Aurifex. Had Erelia not had her servants with her, she and Marcielle might have been trampled by the frantic crowds.

  “He will be, darling. He will.” She kissed her daughter’s forehead gently.

  She should have been in bed by now, but the horror of the day gripped her heart like a vice. Even within the safety of their home, unease settled over her like a heavy cloak. Thoughts rattled through her mind, invasive and unwelcomed. Just a few minutes of lingering and they would’ve joined those who had died. She did her best to push down that anxiety, she would remain calm so she could coo and coddle her daughter to sleep. Marcielles eyes were beginning to close, and Erelia took a quiet exhausted breath, more than anything she just wanted this day to be over, to be able to sleep herself, but as that moment of rest inched ever closer the silent night was shattered by a feverish knocking at the door.

  “Lia!”

  A voice, raspy and rugged called her name, over and over. More pounding. More urgency.

  “Lia! Let me in!”

  She recognized the raspy, rugged voice muffled through the window. Silently, she prayed as she slipped out of bed, hoping his yelling wouldn’t wake Marcielle. Down to the foyer she went. The closer she got, the louder the knocking became. The door shook as he rattled the knob, trying to force his way in. When she finally opened it, there he stood—Galvos, her brother—his face a mix of relief and exhaustion at the sight of her.

  “You’re so loud! Do you even know how late it is?” Erelia scolded, but before she could blink, Galvos burst through the doorway and wrapped her in his tightest embrace.

  “Galvos!” She could feel his worry in the way he held her.

  “You smell awful…” she muttered, relenting as she finally returned the gesture.

  “The whole city is a mess, I wanted to come earlier…” he said, slowly releasing her. His voice was heavy and worn. “We need to talk.”

  Erelia, despite the late hour, did her best to be a good host. Together, they sat in the dining room, where she had prepared a small bit of food and drink as Galvos settled at the table. His posture, his face, everything about him was etched with something she couldn’t quite discern. He looked worried, almost scared. It was unusual to see her brother like this. He’d always been so headstrong, never letting things eat at him. She admired him for it, which made the contrast all the more unsettling.

  “It’s nice of you to come check on us. If you want, you can stay the night—Marcy would love to see you.” She smiled, but now that he had settled into his seat, he was doing his best to avoid her gaze.

  “Aye, I’d love that, but…” He brought his elbows to the table, resting his mouth against his clasped fingers. “I can’t stay for long.”

  “Got another job already? Where you going this time? Bimos was a nice change of pace for you. It was nice knowing you wouldn’t be at sea for months.”

  “It’s gonna be a long one this time, Lia. Wanted to give ya a proper goodbye for once.”

  She tilted her head. Galvos was rarely one for sentiment.

  “You’re about as subtle as your stink. What’s wrong? Tell me.”

  Galvos took a moment before speaking, letting the warmth of his sister’s home cradle him. He loved coming here, to play with Marcy, to eat his sister’s cooking, to give Aurelio the business. More than ever he wanted to savour this. But the moment passed quickly. He knew it would be best if she heard what needed to be said from him. Before he could begin, the door in the foyer clicked open and heavy boots echoed down the hall. Dread brewed in Galvos’ chest at the sound, but delight sparked in Erelia’s as she called to her husband to join them in the dining room.

  “Aurelio! You’re finally home! Did you catch him?” Erelia greeted him with a kiss at the entrance to the dining room before they both joined Galvos at the table.

  “Yes, he was caught. There is more to uncover, but don’t worry, love.” Aurelio’s gaze drifted to his brother-in-law, and for once, he didn’t mind seeing him—at least now, he wouldn’t have to track him down. “Galvos, how’s your evening?”

  “Ever pleasant now that you’re here to keep us company,” Galvos scoffed, masking any trace of unease. He wouldn’t let Aurelio see him vulnerable, not the way he had with his sister.

  “Hm. Well, I’m glad you’re here.”

  Erelia let out a dramatic gasp. “Words I never thought I’d hear! I suppose even the worst days have their silver linings.” She smiled, but Galvos didn’t like what Aurelio was implying.

  Whatever he had planned to say to Erelia, he knew now it would either come from his own mouth or her husband’s. The last thing he wanted was for Aurelio to tell it all in front of them both.

  “Galvos and I, we’ve come to understand each other. I was actually planning to track him down tomorrow for a private talk.”

  “Don’t mind me, talk away!” Erelia beamed, practically giddy. She had always wanted the two most important men in her life to be close, to be friends. Finally, it seemed like her wish was coming true.

  “Yeah, we should keep this private.” Galvos met his sister’s eyes and saw her genuine happiness. It twisted his gut. “Hope you don’t mind, Lia.”

  Erelia shook her head. “I was about to sleep before you started yelling in our front yard. If I hear any arguing, though…” She shot them both a warning look. “I’ll be coming down to end it.”

  “It’ll be okay, Lia. Give Marcy a hug from me.”

  She gave her husband a final peck and wrapped Galvos in a brief hug before heading upstairs.

  As soon as she was gone, Galvos finally took a good look at Aurelio—no longer the loving husband, just a man carved from stone.

  “On the back of some poor fool in Bimos, correct?” Aurelio’s tone carried the weight of a father catching a child with their hand in the cookie jar.

  “That’s what you said, if I remember. Perhaps not verbatim.”

  Galvos’ face twisted into a scowl, offended at even the hint of the accusation.

  “I told you how it was, how I thought it to be. You think I’d let some fool get off my ship with something that dangerous?”

  “It’s not a thought, Galvos. It happened. Maybe you haven’t seen all the bodies yet—or the ones who barely made it out alive.”

  “Spit it out, you bastard.” Galvos’ voice rose with his temper. “Is this what you wanted to say? That I had a foot in this? You think I planned for that dumb bastard Ollie to kill all those people in the Aurifex? What? Were you gonna tell my sister I was a monster if I didn’t get here first? I know you’d love to get rid of me, to make her hate me—”

  “You need to lower your voice.”

  Aurelio placed his hand flat on the table. His tone was steady, but there was a weight behind it.

  Galvos had risen from his seat in his rant, looking ready to lunge across the table and strike Aurelio for even suggesting it. But there was a hesitation now, a crack in his fury, a creeping doubt twisting his gut.

  “None of my men…” Galvos stopped himself, jaw tight. His next words came slower, dragged down by guilt. “Besides that bastard Ollie, they know their place. They just want their families safe. If I’d known what he was planning… I’d have killed him myself.”

  Aurelio let Galvos stew in his own roiling emotions. He wanted him to feel like he was standing at the edge of losing everything. That was how you got a man like Galvos to listen.

  This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “You’re not entirely wrong,” Aurelio admitted, watching the tension coil in his brother-in-law’s shoulders. “This would be the perfect opportunity to excise you from my family’s life.”

  Galvos’ fists clenched, his fingers digging into the tablecloth.

  “You’re a self-righteous prick,” he growled. “I’ll never understand what my sister sees in you.”

  “This was your mistake, Galvos. And as much as I hate you, I’ve never stopped you from coming here, have I?” Aurelio’s tone remained measured, calm—like a man giving a lesson to a wayward child. “Even now, with all the authority I have, even after the atrocity your man committed… you should be grateful.”

  Galvos' jaw tightened. “Get on with it, prick. If you don’t want me gone, and you don’t want me dead, then what is it?”

  Aurelio produced a scroll and let it unfurl across the table.

  “You’ve got a heavy sin to pay penance for, but Onorus is merciful to his faithful,” he said, his voice steeped in mock piety. “And so shall I be, as his hand.”

  Galvos’ eyes scanned the parchment. Reports on the Aurifex. The Crucible. The chain of events laid out in cold, clinical ink. His name. His crew. And at the bottom, a series of sketched witness reports. Most were unfamiliar, but one caught his attention—a rough drawing of a passed-out, half naked man. Aurelio caught the shift in his face immediately. “You know them, then.”

  Galvos exhaled sharply through his nose. “Aye. That’s the muscle I told you about. And his brother too.”

  “Good. Saves us both time and effort.”

  Aurelio rolled the scroll back up with practiced ease.

  “Here’s my offer, Galvos. I’m going to ask you for something I know you’d normally refuse. And in return, you and your crew will be off the hook. I know you’re not the type to have schemed this sort of thing in the first place, no matter how much I wish you were.”

  “Ah, choke on it, you bastard.”

  Aurelio smirked. “Refuse if you want to, but don’t expect to set foot in Onoria again. My last act of mercy will be letting you sail out of the bay without sinking your ship.”

  He stood, placing a heavy hand on Galvos’ shoulder.

  “But do what I ask, and you can keep coming back. You’ll get to see your sister, watch your niece grow up.” He leaned in just enough to make sure Galvos felt the weight of his next words. “I’ll give you till morning. But if you refuse… don’t ever let me see you again. Your sister won’t stop me if I tell her how this played out.”

  Aurelio left without another word, leaving Galvos alone to think it over. It was a generous offer, but the worst part was knowing he wouldn’t find out the price until he had already agreed—and by then, it would be too late.

  “Damn it all.”

  He slumped back into his chair, his eye catching on his boots, crusted with dirt. He’d tracked the mess straight into his sister’s home. The sight unsettled him. A mess. That’s all he ever brought to the people he cared about. And now, another one was coming. He just didn’t know what kind yet.

  ?? ?? ??

  The bar was packed. Another day had gone by, but many of the patrons were still searching for those they had lost, clinging to the hope of reunion. Others came simply to avoid the guards. Their penchant for violence had grown—many sought revenge on those in the Dregs they could single out and beat within an inch of their lives. In retaliation, some guards had been attacked at their posts, beaten by mobs of foreigners who had either reached their breaking point or were looking for an opportunity to strip the Onorions of their coin and belongings.

  Callahan and Rowan had decided to spend the midday in Kiki’s yard, a little fenced-off area hidden away from the streets. Kiki didn’t usually allow patrons back there—she used it to store old crates and barrels of supplies that wouldn’t fit in the cellar. But Rowan had taken a liking to the space and managed to convince her to let him use it, promising he’d be careful not to destroy anything valuable. He stacked empty barrels for target practice, carried fully loaded crates of food and drink to keep his form fit, and occasionally treated the yard like his own personal training ground.

  Callahan, on the other hand, just liked the quiet. With the sun on his back, he would sit and read about different types of bindings, occasionally glancing up to watch Rowan beat barrels into oblivion. Today was a little different though, with all that had happened over the last few days, he was revaluating his role this journey he had found himself in.

  "Something nibbling at that brain of yours, Cal?" Rowan huffed, hoisting a barrel full of who-knows-what onto his shoulders as he powered through another squat. Callahan had been lost in thought, absentmindedly rolling one of the colorful orbs around in his palm—the unorthodox ammunition for Jubilee. After the two he had fired, and the one he’d dropped in the chase, he still had three blues strapped to his belt, along with a few others Grimmwald had stuffed into a bag for him. He wasn't sure what they all did yet, but testing them here in Kiki’s yard wasn’t an option. He needed to figure them out sooner rather than later.

  “The blue ones are a spectacle… definitely good for getting people’s attention. And the red one… well, that’s a flare. Could be useful if we ever find ourselves in a cave.” He emptied the rest of the orbs onto the table as gently as he could, watching as they rolled slightly before settling. “Hm… no green ones.” He clicked his tongue in disappointment at the memory of dropping his only green orb during the chase, but he pushed past it and focused on the remaining colors.

  "Two more blues… he gave me a lot of those. Three yellows—hmm, could be gas? Five reds, five whites, three purples, and…" He reached into the sack for the last one, but the moment his fingers wrapped around it, he hesitated. It was pitch black. Unlike the others, which were translucent and allowed their colorful contents to shimmer inside, this one was completely opaque. The glass felt the same, smooth and cool, but something about it unsettled him.

  "I don’t like you," he muttered, stuffing it back into the sack without further thought. If he ever planned to test them all, he might just leave that one out.

  "Cal! What are you doing?" Rowan called out again. His brother didn’t even look up at first, too lost in thought.

  "Oh, leave him alone, Rowan. He looks like he's having fun with his marbles," Nyve chimed in, her voice playful as ever. She was still keeping hidden but clearly enjoying herself while keeping an eye on Callahan.

  Rowan sauntered over and plopped down beside his brother, taking a look at the orbs scattered on the table. "So these things go into that, eh? And then—boom? Guess those Aurelans were lucky you didn’t end up explodin' them."

  Rowan had no clue how Jubilee actually worked—not that Callahan knew much more than him. Grimmwald had assured him it wasn’t a lethal weapon.

  "I pinged one in the head with a blue," Callahan said, "Dropped him flat on his face. They’re bouncy as hell—it just shot up into the sky and exploded like a firework."

  He tossed one to Rowan, who caught it with ease. His brother shook it around, rolled it across the table, turning it this way and that like he was trying to figure out how it worked.

  "Well, they’re pretty nifty," Rowan said, tossing it back. "It’s thanks to these things we found you, after all!"

  "We, huh?" Callahan scoffed. It was obvious by the way Rowan kept pulling at his hair that Nyve had been part of the rescue mission. He still didn’t know how he felt about that. He just wanted to keep quiet and hope she’d stay hidden.

  “You know her better than I do,” Rowan chuckled. “If she won’t listen to you, she sure as hell won’t listen to me.”

  Nyve, hiding in his hair, was about to burst out in her usual fae flair—but Callahan cut that thought short.

  “Wasn’t much use in the fight, though, was she? Should’ve stayed in the room. Last thing we need is more trouble down here.”

  Nyve immediately retreated. “Oh, for the love of Gywn, he’s still mad at me… ungrateful little—” Her stomping tantrum on Rowan’s scalp made him scratch at his head, trying to play it off.

  “So, what’s the plan anyhow, Cal?” Rowan asked, shifting the conversation.

  “Well… we should start with what to do with what we know. You said Galvos knows real important people, right? Maybe if we figure out who Morna is, we could tell them.”

  “Ah, that’s the tricky part.” Rowan leaned back against the crate. “We don’t know who she is, just a location, and that won’t do much. Lots of places to hide down here, Cal.”

  “Yeah… and I’m not too sure about outing what we know right away. They might think we know more than we actually do, and, well… that never works out well for anyone.”

  “Yup. Doubt you’d last a day in the torture chamber,” Rowan said with a grin. “Heard some real horror stories.”

  “And you’d do much better?”

  “Better than you. That’s all that matters.”

  Callahan sighed. “Another thing we gotta figure out is who the hell attacked us.”

  “Wanna place a bet?”

  “What, like on who we think it might be?”

  “Yeah, a wager! When we catch the bastard, it’ll be a little extra fun. You know, on top of beating the hell out of him.”

  “Eh… I’d rather not. But I do think we should start practicing more together—with my Bind.”

  Rowan patted him on the back. “Oh? You sure? You were always so worried about being found out, and now you wanna start showing it off?”

  “No, I don’t want to show it off again... I just need to get better. We could maybe do it out here? I don’t want to lose focus again. If I’m ever going to be useful, I need to figure out how to properly use this thing.”

  “Ah, look at you. Guilt’s written all over that sappy mug of yours.” Rowan smirked, shaking his head. “Would you just get over it already? Look—I’m fine, hair’s nice and full, and bein’ a Wailer wasn’t so bad. Bit of a headache, but that’s nothin’ new for me.”

  “It’s not just that, Rowan. I can’t keep busting up your armor with partial binds. You’re a lot safer when you’re fully transformed. And…” Callahan hesitated, then moved toward an old barrel Rowan never touched.

  Inside was a stack of books—some old, some ruined, all carefully stashed away.

  “I found something,” he said, laying out a half-ruined book.

  “Ah, you know I’m not much of a reader, Cal.” Rowan thumbed through the pages, his eyes glazing over the words. He did his best to look interested, though.

  “It’s one of Ma’s old stories. But this one’s written down—more detailed than how Grandpa ever told it to her.”

  “Really?” Rowan perked up at that. He might not like reading, but he loved their mother’s stories. “Which one is it?”

  “Torran’s tale… before he was—”

  “Torran?”

  Callahan barely had time to finish before Rowan and another voice—Nyve’s—spoke in tandem.

  “A book about my beloved Torran?” Nyve’s voice rang with excitement. “Oh, I wonder what they wrote! It must be wonderful! He was such a beautiful beast, a true warrior, the greatest of Gwyndadoraoralaeolye!” She rattled on, but Rowan wasn’t listening.

  “No more mire beasts, remember?” Rowan’s tone darkened.

  “I know,” Callahan said. “And I wouldn’t even be thinking about this if I didn’t think it was worth it. Wouldn’t have paid it any mind if you-know-who hadn’t shown up…”

  Rowan shook his head. “We can practice, but find a better focus, Cal.”

  “A better focus?!” Nyve’s voice rang indignantly in Rowan’s ear. “There’s no greater Lughari warrior in the living or dead worlds than Torran Torc! You could learn to be truly mighty, Rowan!”

  Her words fell on deaf ears. The air between the brothers turned heavy, a subject neither of them liked picking at.

  “I’m sorry,” Callahan muttered.

  Rowan exhaled. “I know you’ll find a good one, Cal. I trust you in the end—just, you know.”

  “Yeah. I do.”

  For a moment, silence settled between them, at least for Callahan. Rowan, on the other hand, still had Nyve in his ear, huffing and muttering about the lack of proper exaltation for Torran, someone she so deeply admired. The moment broke when Kiki’s voice rang out from the bar.

  “Boys! Rick’s got work for you!