City B was a metropolis of canals, bridges, and shining glass towers filled with those few that had earned a local home, following lifetimes of goodwill and selfless deeds on both Earth and Aurra—while others were the political elites or business executives. Many had the honor to work in or for the nearby capital City of A, keeping it running but unable to live there. They were a single tier below the top one percent of the one percent in Aurra, and for many, it wasn’t enough; for those people, life in B was like floating on a cloud but always clawing upwards towards heaven.

  On the subcontinent of Grandis, close to the equator and west of Mexico on Earth’s side, snowfall was rare. Today, in the midst of a mild winter and scattered storm clouds blowing in from the east, Mr. Camryde waited anxiously in a nearly empty expensive restaurant, filling the top floor of one of the City’s taller commerce towers. With mist and rain brushing the window next to him, he poured himself another glass of wine from the bottle that had been left on the table, his hand shaking as he did so.

  He set the glass back down before the rim reached his lips upon seeing Trinqit and Fordein walk in. The sole waiter still at work in an eatery that was once one of the City’s most exclusive bowed his head when they passed by. Arthur said nothing as the two sat down across from him, Fordein pouring himself some wine without asking first, and Trinqit placing her mechanical hand on the table and staring out the window.

  Indignant and barely containing his anger, Arthur muttered, “What the hell is going on? Where’s Will? He was supposed to be here.”

  “William is busy,” Trinqit replied. “The queen placed him on assignment to defend B, same situation as Fordein. The last chance for either of them to regain any of her trust…” She looked around to make sure no one was listening before adding, “Which we need a little longer.”

  “He was supposed to meet with me! What did he do to violate her faith in him, anyway? God damn it… It’s all falling apart.”

  “It’s classified,” Trinqit said. “I can’t even tell Fordein.”

  “Nothing’s falling apart, my friend,” Fordein said after a sip.

  “Oh, it isn’t?” Arthur snapped. “Our troops only just now arrived back on the continent, after the Angels already moved on from the coastal Cities. The Guard will fall, chaos will ensure, and, worst of all, I’ve just lost two daughters. One hates me, and the other is gone because your people failed to protect her. I know you didn’t see eye to eye, Jenera, but pretorians are supposed to have each other’s backs. You let her die in that school!”

  Trinqit crossed her arms, but tried her best not to anger him further, replying, “I’m sorry about Phisa. She had the potential to become one of the strongest pretorians who ever served. But the blame lies with Lenox and Quinlin, and, frankly, her… underestimating Garder.”

  “Nolland…” Arthur growled. “You tell William… If he’s here and the Angels do arrive in a few days, that if he wants me to help him further, he needs to bring me Garder, alive. That boy will suffer for what he’s done to my family. Or I’ll reveal everything about your plot. Good luck silencing me—if I disappear, I have documents full of secrets that will be unsealed.”

  Trinqit scowled. “You really don’t know who you’re threatening. I’ll pass on the message. I believe he’ll do what he can, since he still sees you as a valuable ally, but this sort of behavior won’t be tolerated once we take power. Given your recent loss, he may overlook the transgression. But don’t think you’ll ever order our apostle around again.”

  Arthur glowered at them, then gulped down some wine and eyed the pair of black-robed alchemagists that had escorted the two.

  “Why am I seeing these elites throughout the City all of a sudden?” he asked. “Are they supposed to be extra protection, or something… else?”

  “Pay them no mind, Mr. Camryde,” Fordein said. “But I would recommend that you and Risar remain in City A until the fighting here is over with. Go with the other evacuees, leave first thing in the morning.”

  Arthur poured himself the last of his wine and murmured, “My dear Phisa… I swear, I’ll make that rabid animal pay for what he…”

  He fell quiet when air raid sirens went off across the rainy skyline of glass monoliths. The three of them looked out of the window and across the towers to see anti-air fire on the horizon and small explosions lighting up the gray clouds, too distant for the sounds to hit their ears.

  “They’re here already,” Fordein grumbled and got to his feet. “The damn hasty devils. I have to report to my ship. Arthur, Ms. Trinqit will show you to the nearest fibrocator station. Take Risar and flee the City.”

  “You speak like it will be destroyed entirely!” Arthur exclaimed. “I thought it was the Angels that were meant to take devastating losses here!”

  “They will,” Fordein assured him. “This is where we all but destroy them. But if we want to prune them down to a still-effective minimal force, we will need to make a few sacrifices. Do as we say, and run, little senator.”

  With clasped hands, Milla watched and listened to the details coming from City B with full concentration, her heart beating a mile a minute. The signal wasn’t very clear or consistent, but the upper Angels were lucky to have any sort of situational awareness coming out of B at all. As Xavier led a squadron of slings full of breakers, Milla felt guilt on top of all her other emotions, for being safe deep in the burrow.

  “We’ve just entered B’s protection,” Xavier reported, his voice still weak and scratchy from his throat injury. “We will get suppression down, Commander. But there will likely be a very fluid situation on the way.”

  Understanding what he was saying—that she wasn’t in the best position to be the one giving orders on the fly—Milla replied, “Copy. Just watch out for any hidden anti-air emplacements. Resistance will be heavy.”

  “Our birds are packed full of deterrents. We can get to that rooftop suppression tower, even if we have to go through a swarm of missiles first.”

  The connection faded out again, and Milla fell back in her chair and wiped the sweat away before asking, “Dad, are we doing the right thing?”

  “In what regard?” he replied, his eyes scanning text feed updates on another screen. “If you’re worried about a major, risky assault on B, there’s no avoiding it. We’ll have to fight our way to the gate. And all of our information says that most of the inner City has been evacuated over the last week. Civilian casualties should be minimal.”

  “I know all of that, but I meant sending in an advance team without better cover. Suppression makes fighting back difficult, and it still feels wrong to risk so many of our people like this… And Xavier is…”

  “Milla, focus. The best thing we can do now is our job.”

  There was a knock on the command room door, and Hilden came in without waiting for a response. She looked worried about something, but Leovyn, under intense pressure as well, reacted by nearly snapping at her.

  “Hilden, this isn’t the time—”

  “I’m sorry, sir. The children just returned from the surface, but Temki wasn’t with them. They don’t know where he is.”

  “I’m sure that he just got distracted by something up in C,” Milla tried to assure her without turning away from her screen. “Get Pangs to check the lab—he likes to spend time with his animals.”

  “General, we did already. No sign of him. And… Garder is missing, as well. We’ve got the City police force on the lookout, but this has me really concerned. Given the history those two have shared…”

  Milla took pause, thought of the worst possible situation, and asked Mr. Holden over her headset, “Xavier, are Garder and Temki with you?”

  He replied with a nervous chuckle, “Are you serious, Commander? Of course not. Especially not Temki—not in a place like this.”

  “Can you please check your sling, thoroughly?” Xavier heard her respond, and the concern in her voice from thousands of miles away.

  From the co-pilot’s seat, he looked over his shoulder and into the troop carrier segment of the aircraft. Twelve Angels—his own Finx, Sieger, and Bryant among them—were mentally preparing themselves, checking their weapons, praying, or getting a few more seconds of rest with eyes closed. In none of those jump seats was there an old friend in need of help, or a young mind paradigm who wore glasses.

  “Yeah, they’re not here, Commander,” he reported back. “Milla, we’re starting to take anti-aircraft fire, but I’ll check with the other ships to see if they have any stowaways. Though I really don’t think they’re with us.”

  Milla let out a stress sigh before replying, “Copy. Be safe out there. Don’t spread it around, but I have a bad feeling about this one.”

  “I see the suppression tower on the horizon. Flares and avoidance techniques are working, and the skies are clear of enemy birds.”

  “That’s what worries me. It’s too quiet out there.”

  “Everyone is vigilant. Whatever they’re planning, they won’t take us by surprise. It won’t be like H all over again, if that’s what your—”

  “Sergeant,” the pilot interrupted him just after flares sent a nearby missile careening away, “the watch ship is reporting wizards on rooftops.”

  Xavier grabbed the binoculars from a hook and started looking for himself through the narrow windshield, asking, “How many?”

  “Over twenty so far, on the taller buildings. Black robes; elites.”

  “Lookouts? All of our birds have anti-alchemagi coating and we’re going too fast for most spells to hit us, anyway. They’ll only be a problem if they converge on us at the suppression tower.”

  “Something’s off,” the pilot said, and gave his gauges a tap. “These air speed and pressure readings can’t be right.”

  A moment later, the aircraft suddenly dropped over a hundred feet within seconds—the negative Gs briefly lifting everyone aboard off their seats. Xavier, a nervous flier, held onto his buckles for dear life.

  “The hell was that?” he exclaimed, irritating his healing larynx.

  Grasping the yoke firmly, the pilot replied, “Felt like a microburst. The other ships were hit, as well. Those wizards must be trying to crash us with powerful watairre alchemagi. It won’t work. Just hold on.”

  “Oh… God,” Xavier murmured, eyes transfixed at two o’ clock.

  “What do you see, sir? What is…” The pilot saw it as well: the top three floors of one of the glass and steel towers was being ripped apart into small, dangerous bits of shrapnel and sent into the air. “All aircraft, evasive maneuvers. They’re turning the buildings into a weapon.”

  Xavier added, “Maybe the whole City…”

  A vortex of dust and destruction was growing around the inner core of B, trapping dozens of slings, dropships, and interceptors in a two-mile-wide area of growing tornadic destruction. By the time the swirling air at the edge of the area of effect had uplifted enough particulates to became visible, it was too late to escape. Worst of all, the suppression tower was just past the vortex’s deadly barrier, and now out of reach.

  “Those outer winds are picking up,” the pilot reported to the other ships. “Looks like a cat-three hurricane already—and it’ll likely get worse. All birds, break away and cut your speed. That debris will tear us apart.”

  “Commander!” Xavier exclaimed into his headset after boosting the signal gain, now just hoping to hear any response at all. “Wizards have us trapped in a giant vortex. They’re throwing B at us. It must be a mass fusion of earth, iron, and wind spells. We can’t escape.”

  “Copy…” Milla came in faintly. “Try to take out the alchemagists. Otherwise, get on the ground. Don’t stay in the air with those conditions.”

  “It’s hitting us everywhere,” the pilot said as he fought harder with the controls. “Damn air speed and direction keeps changing.”

  Xavier watched as the top floors of another tower nearby came apart, its individual small pieces taking to the air like a swarm of locusts in a windstorm. Everything from shards of glass, twisted support beams, rivets, and office furniture were broken down as they were flung into the air with iron and earth alchemagi. Control was lost on some debris and it blew away to join the chaotic outer winds, but much of it was redirected right into a nearby sling ship. Accelerated by jet streams, the wreckage cut through the fast but lightly-armored aircraft, rending it into exploding shrapnel instantly.

  “We’re losing aircraft,” Xavier said to all of the pilots. “Interceptor and dropship gunners—focus on the casters. Ignore anti-air cannons and pick off the damn wizards before they kill us all.”

  “None of them can hold steady enough to get a shot on small targets in this mess,” the pilot warned. “Hold on, we’re going into a spin.”

  The dropships were larger, less agile, and more affected by winds, and they all began to rotate in the air uncontrollably. Two got shredded and turned into fireballs, and another crashed into a crumbling building. Then the sling ship in front of Xavier’s, which had fought hard to stay on course, fell from the sky after its rudder snapped off like a breaking twig.

  Knowing it could be them to next suffer that fate, the pilot had no choice but to slam onto his rudder pedals, doing everything in his power to stay aloft and out of a death tumble. Outside, every other vessel was being outright destroyed or brought down. Inside, the soldiers and breakers could only hold onto their buckles as they were pressed into the seats.

  Two of them weren’t strapped in at all.

  Hours earlier, Temki was enjoying the fresh air and a warm lunch with his friends at an outdoor café by C’s largest park. It was among the last open eateries in the City, its stall nestled among dozens of others that had closed up shop over the past seven years, what with the civilian population having diminished to a fraction of its original bustling numbers.

  “I hope the war does end in the next few days, just so we don’t have to talk about it anymore,” Norria said with a sigh at the table, and plaintively took another bite of her sandwich. “Even the word ‘war’ feels like it’s lost all its meaning. It’s just so hard to imagine it actually… ending.”

  “It won’t feel the same without Rivia here to see it,” Lechi lamented. “On Earth, you can say things like… ‘he’ll be looking down with a smile during our victory parade,’ or whatever, but we know he’s probably still stuck in a traffic jam in Hold, being pestered by his followers.”

  “Don’t feel so down, Lechi,” Brim said. “A lifetime’s a blink of an eye in the grand scheme. Next go around for us all, whether outed or after announcing it himself, everyone will know the person who was once the general. We’ll get together for a big reunion and talk about the old times.”

  “I can’t even begin to perceive your awareness of time’s passage, Brim,” Rhys told him. “You’re always bringing up how quickly life goes by, but a single year still feels infinitely long for me. And I only just got a brief taste of Earth back during our fight with Nish. Rayna here is still trying to convince me it’s not all a barren desert.”

  Rayna, in another one of her quiet moods, blushed a little and looked away as the others noticed Garder approaching them. He was out of uniform and unarmed, but seemed no less serious than usual.

  “Garder…” Lechi tepidly greeted him. Trying to be polite, she offered, “Would you like to join us for lunch? We have an extra voucher.”

  “I thought I heard that your right eye was golden now,” Rhys said brashly, while studying the vanguard lieutenant’s facial markings where his patch used to be. “But it just looks like you have heterochromia. That was a common ‘defect’ among my siblings. Is that what you were hiding?”

  “Rhys, stop being so rude,” Norria scolded him.

  “I’m just saying what’s on my mind.”

  “Caeden is resting,” Garder muttered.

  “But not… asleep, anymore, right?” Lechi asked timidly. “Word gets around the burrow. It’s not a big place. You know, you can always…”

  “No. I’m not talking about it.”

  Temki, who was always at least somewhat aware of Garder’s inner turmoil, shrunk in his seat and avoided eye contact.

  Against his friends’ wishes, Rhys spoke up again, “Hey, regardless of whatever you’re going through, I’m impressed you took down Phisa.”

  Garder only dignified the praise with a grunt. He then turned to Temki, perhaps the one kid at the table that had never been afraid of him. Cautious, yes, but with his ability to read intentions before someone acted on them, Temki had yet to sense any desire in Garder to harm friends or family, or put them in a dangerous situation.

  “Temki. Could I speak to you alone?” Garder asked him.

  Without hesitation, he nodded and got up to leave with the lieutenant, to the surprise of his friends. Garder was now known by most that were close to him as volatile, and Lechi was among the few people who thought that he should be restricted to the burrow for the time being.

  The two didn’t go far together. They stepped into the nearby park, and went to the rest area at the edge of its pond, where a steady breeze kept the long jacket on Garder flapping about.

  “What’s on your mind?” Temki asked after a minute of quiet between them. “You want to fight in B, don’t you?”

  “Are my thoughts that loud?”

  Temki exhaled, and continued as he cleaned his glasses, “It’s a jumbled mess up there that I bet most mind adepts couldn’t untangle anymore. Aurra’s systems might not even see you as an ordinary person at this point. Compared to Milla, you let Caeden… Well, you know what I want to say. But I can still pick up on your base desires. Your anger.”

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  “We turned that anger into success, didn’t we? Those first two years on the battlefield together… You turned my spells into ordnance, let us take out our enemies from the safety of the back lines.”

  “I don’t want to wax nostalgic about all the people I’ve helped you kill. I have some blood directly on my hands, too… It doesn’t get easier.”

  “I’m not here to ask you to go on a rampage with me.”

  “Good, because after what you did in M, I would hope that your bloodlust has been sated. You’ve been relieved of duty. How can you ask me to help you in any way now, knowing I’d also get in trouble?”

  Garder deflected, “Can you still mask perception?”

  “I mean… Yeah, I’ve only gotten better at it over the years. Is that what you want from me? To help you sneak around somewhere?”

  “I’m still in an advisory position, and I know Milla’s plan. She’s doing the logical thing, sending the breaker teams into B first to open it up for our invasion. But they’ll get wiped out. And Xavier’s among them.”

  “You can’t know that for sure.”

  “The queen wants to keep the fighting out of and away from the capital. B is the bastion of the Guard, the wall we aren’t meant to breach. The intel that there hasn’t been a buildup of defenses there just means that the Guard has something else planned, and are luring us in.”

  “Again, based on what? Why can’t you trust Milla’s decision to proceed? Didn’t all of the commanders agree with her assessment that it was best to go in now, before L’s forces arrive?”

  “Yes, but the breakers will need help. I should be out there.”

  “What can you do that they can’t?”

  Hesitantly, Garder replied, “I think you may be right about me. I’m close to being able to break providence; override suppression.”

  “But I’m not sure that’s possible. Verim was changed by Nish, but you’re just half apostle… Maybe, Garder, but what if you go out there and that theory is wrong? And you still haven’t given me the real reason you insist on doing this. I can tell your thoughts also dwell on Izae.”

  Garder huffed. “I wish you’d get out of my mind.”

  “I can’t help it. I pick up on thoughts like they’re coming from a radio station. She likes you, Garder, but… you act cold around her.”

  Knowing there was no point in lying around Temki, he said with a groan, “I do have a soft spot for her, but do you really think I’ve been in a state of mind to start a relationship? At any point in these last seven years?”

  “I think you push people away because you’re worried about losing them, hurting them, or being a burden. You don’t like what kind of person you’ve become, so you punish and isolate yourself. You’ve barely changed since I told you pretty much the same thing at the accords.”

  Garder looked at the ground and said nothing for a moment, before admitting, “I can’t lose anyone else. Xavier deserves to see the end of this war. Kamsa, Jeryn, Verim, and Rivia… The people of N, and even some of my own former teachers. I couldn’t keep going if there’s another. I don’t know if I’ll have any… self-preservation left.”

  Temki took a deep breath. “You’ve suffered greatly, Garder. But you aren’t alone in feeling all those losses. You must remember that.” He gave the idea some deliberation, then asked, “What do you have in mind?”

  “Xavier and his team are heading to the FOB outside of B in a half hour, using the Mezik L’s coordinate-based demirriage system. That’s the only means I have of getting out there, too. You hide the two of us from everyone, and then boost my abilities once we’re over B. When the fighting starts, there’s nothing they can do about us being aboard. I’ll take the blame and accept whatever punishment that results. But if we’re there together, we can take out any defenses or traps the Guard has in place. We can save all of those Angels from what is likely a suicide mission.”

  “This is just like in H. You always wanted to ‘save everyone,’ when that burden wasn’t on your shoulders. We both know it’s not even remotely in your power to do so. You might just make the situation worse.”

  “I have to try! I can’t hide in the burrow and wait for the report.”

  “Okay, Garder. Okay. You’re not used to asking for help, I get it. I don’t think it’s a good plan, but I do worry about what you might do if you feel like you didn’t try everything possible, in case the attack does go wrong. But you need to listen to my instructions, or this won’t work. This is a big gamble for me. You’re not the only one putting their life at risk.”

  “Temki…” Garder breathed out. “Thank you.”

  “Let me say goodbye to the others. We all wanted a day topside, but I’ll tell them I’m feeling tired and heading back down to rest. You go on ahead. I don’t want them to see us going together.”

  Garder gave him a small nod, and walked off.

  Temki hid something from everyone else. The truth was, while he loved his friends and grandmother, he had little desire to hold on too tightly to Aurra. Seeing war up close at a young age had affected him, but there was also the fact that this world had been in bad shape for years… and he often longed to be reborn on Earth and experience a full life there, which he’d been robbed of after a simple bad step into a busy street. He knew, even as a mind paradigm, that he wouldn’t retain his memories or likely be born anywhere near his parents or sisters. Yet, at least he’d be sharing the same air and sunlight that they soaked in every day.

  It wasn’t that he wanted to die, or was ready to. But he was more willing to take risks than anyone else in his group. His many mistakes aside, after all of the suffering that Garder had experienced, Temki believed that he deserved a chance to have something go his way for a change.

  So, he met him near the entrance of the burrow, not far from the elevator and in a corner that none of the many security cameras could see. Just like they had done when they worked together during the war’s early days, Garder gripped Temki’s right hand tightly to connect their minds.

  “You’re so cold…” Temki remarked. “Are you well, Garder?”

  “In the way you mean, yes. I’ve learned how to keep my body temperature lower. It helps me make ice, slightly faster.”

  “Ah, I see. By the way. Lechi already came back while we were in the park. She may be better at sensing my presence; we should avoid her.”

  Garder noticed Michael Reynolds approaching from down the hall, and asked Temki, “Is he going to see us? Are we hidden already?”

  “The moment our hands locked. But, remember, touch breaks the spell. He’ll act like he ran into us because he wasn’t watching where he was going. And…” Temki looked up at one of the security cameras. “The effect won’t work through a lens. If anyone’s watching on a screen, they’ll see us.”

  “Yes, yes. I know the rules. Though from what I’ve seen, they never have someone sitting around looking at the feed in the security room.”

  “There’s no way we can avoid all of them. Once they realize we’re missing and check the footage, they’ll realize where we went.”

  “Then we make sure that by then, we’re far from here.”

  Temki whispered, “You’re shaking, and your palm’s sweaty. You’re frightened of physical contact. You only hold my hand out of necessity.”

  “We don’t have time for this. Let’s get moving.”

  Temki, who knew the layout of the burrow better than Garder, led the way down the hall and toward the hangar. They still existed in every physical sense, yet no one but the most skilled mind adepts would be able to see them. The mental curtain that Temki was maintaining kept the two from being perceived by others in every way except for direct contact. It was a more powerful spell than a solar’s light-bending cloaking ability, but it did have greater weaknesses; for example, it only worked on other humans.

  Tanesh, who’d been sleeping in Lechi’s empty bunk, sniffed the air, whined, and came running up to the barracks’ open doorway when Temki and Garder stopped nearby to let several soldiers pass by. Wagging his tail, he looked up at Temki and panted, waiting for a pat on the head.

  “Not now, Tanesh,” Temki murmured and tried to shove the small dog back into the room with his leg. “Shoo, go back to bed.”

  “Back off, pooch,” Garder added in an impatient whisper.

  “Tanesh?” Lechi said upon suddenly appearing from around the hall corner, a biscuit from the mess hall in hand. Temki and Garder hugged the wall tightly as she went past, and watched as she picked up the pup and gave him a curious glance in her arms. “You staring at floating dust again?”

  The two steadily shuffled away as to not upset the dog, whose eyes never averted their gaze. Tanesh cocked his head, as if to wonder why they were being so sneaky—or why his master didn’t seem to see the pair.

  “You’re getting weird in your mid-years,” Lechi sighed, and followed the dog’s eyes straight to Garder and Temki.

  They reflexively froze in place as she seemed to question the space they occupied. She quietly pondered why some part of her wanted to believe someone was standing there—and squinted for just a moment before easing up and rubbing her eyes with the back of her wrist.

  “Must be seeing things. These dark hallways play tricks sometimes, don’t they? Come on. I grabbed you a treat.”

  Garder breathed out in relief as Lechi returned to her room with dog in hand, who could have easily followed them all the way to the hangar. Temki tugged at him, and they started moving again.

  They passed by the mess hall on the way, and Garder pulled back on Temki so that he could stop and briefly watch something else of note. Jeremi, slowly slurping away at soup, was with his dad and Tess at a table.

  Though they were too far away to make out most of a clearly one-sided conversation, it was obvious that Hekens was trying to reconnect with his son and Tess was acting as a mediator. While his dad must have simply been relieved to see him safe again, Jeremi wasn’t ready to open up.

  “I’m not going to talk about it,” Jeremi snapped, loudly enough for Garder and Temki to hear. “I just… I had to get out of that school.”

  The eavesdroppers continued on into the hangar, where Colt was busy on the Mezik’s narrow fins, calibrating the point-defense turrets while Xavier and his squad prepared to head out on the Mezik L. He was sharing some words with Milla and Leovyn, who were both stoic and unexpressive; a shared trait that showed up when they were nervous.

  Garder felt Temki’s grip loosen slightly. They looked at one another, and Garder noticed the glint of doubt in Temki’s eyes. He could easily drop the perception masking and turn Garder, who wouldn’t be able to summon any spells, over to the burrow. Even if he was able to bypass suppression, the local alchemagi dampening field was also present—and only paradigms like Temki had the ability to power through it.

  “Temki…” Garder murmured. “Don’t. Please.”

  The boy hesitated for a few seconds, before squeezing hard again and whispering, “I’m still going to help you.” He watched as Xavier’s team went into the Mezik L, adding, “But, Garder… You can’t hear me anymore, can you? I’ve been trying to speak telepathically to you this whole time, and you haven’t acknowledged it at all.”

  Garder huffed and admitted, “No. Milla tried, too. I’m so messed up that telepathy can’t reach me. It started after Vermer’s attack.”

  “I see… I hope you’re still rational enough to stay focused on what you’re trying to do: protecting Xavier and the others. And take down B’s suppression if they can’t. But don’t… cause unneeded destruction.”

  “I feel like I got out all my rage on Phisa. I’m not sure what’s left. I’m mostly just… tired. But if I get into a place like that again, I don’t…”

  “It’s okay. Just know that if I think you’re losing control, I will paralyze you with a neural shock. Looks like they’re heading out. Let’s go.”

  Part of him wishing that he could be as mature as Temki, Garder slipped through the Mezik L’s side hatch with the kid right before it closed, giving the troops enough time to get buckled in and out of their way. On the way inside, Garder had looked Milla in the eye. She felt a presence she couldn’t fully recognize, and did a double take in his direction before shrugging it off and walking away as the door was shut and locked.

  Temki and Garder slid past Izae, Xavier, Sieger, and Bryant on the walk to the back of the aircraft, where they clung onto the bird’s safety bars. Xavier’s team was quiet, their usual cordial pre-mission banter absent.

  “Point Arrow, this is Steel Bird,” Xidona said to the forward base outside B from the cockpit. “Awaiting coordinates with key… ‘butterfly’.”

  After some static on the radio, the other end replied with the coordinates, the numbers obfuscated by the key phrase Xidona had chosen. She quickly decoded the true numbers on a notepad, and punched them into the Mezik L’s unique demirriage system.

  Following an engine spool-up, the vessel warped across the world. The coordinates were so exact that she appeared only a foot or so over the ground in early morning sunlight, landing with a thud on her supports. The straps having fulfilled their brief purpose on the trip, everyone unbuckled themselves and left the ship once Xidona had unlocked the door. Temki and Garder were the last out, emerging into a large temporary base full of tents, grounded transport aircraft, soldiers preparing for the assault, and workers unloading materiel from their crates. Up above, the Amber Moth and Red Tenor guarded the skies, both airships moored as their pulley systems were kept busy moving supplies on and off their cargo decks.

  In the middle of everything was one of the Angels’ few heavy duty mobile sunspheres, projecting an umbrella of protection about a mile in diameter. As they had settled into a valley not normally shielded by life-giving light, the land was barren, and free of the color green—almost.

  “Sun lichen…” Temki observed a thin sheen of dull fuzz when he looked at a nearby rock moistened by recent light rain. “Tabi told me about this phenomenon. Bring a sun into a temperate area, dampen rock, and keep the lamp in place for about thirty-six hours. Lichen will bloom with surprising regularity. It’s almost like… Aurra is fertile, waiting to let nature in. If only it weren’t for the haze, destroying anything organic.”

  “Nature just abhors a vacuum,” Garder mumbled, his eyes on the sling ship that Xavier and his team were going to, where a dozen other soldiers were already waiting. After he and Temki got out of the way of some busy officers, Garder added, “I can’t go unarmed. Milla took both of my swords, and my storage disk, and stashed them away somewhere.”

  Temki looked over at the armory; a solid, fortified pre-fabricated building that was carried on airships and put together quickly at any FOB, asking, “Why not just take any sword you see lying around?”

  Garder noticed the requisitions officer for the day. Being his usual gruff and overly-serious self behind the counter was Braunwesh.

  “Not going to happen,” Garder told Temki. “Braunwesh makes, repairs, and keeps track of our weapons with more diligence than I’ve seen in anyone else. Everything has a number, and if something goes missing, he knows in minutes. And he has a say in operations. He once had us delay an operation for two hours and made us all look around for a missing dagger.”

  “Then… I can synthesize you something. But I need all of my power to do so. We’ll have to find a place to hide for a moment.”

  They went behind one of the tents still filled with unopened crates off to the side, where no one would see them. Garder let go of Temki’s hand, but he would need a minute to recover some of his mental stamina before creating a sword with nothing but his mind.

  “It isn’t easy to keep that going for so long.” Temki breathed deeply, while Garder stayed alert for any approaching footsteps. “Garder, tell me something. I know that you believe you were dragged into this war and felt obligated to keep fighting, but do you, or have you ever, actually believed in the cause? Do you care what happens to Aurra?”

  “Honestly… as if I have a choice not to be around you… I don’t think about it much. It’s more like, what else would I have been doing these last seven years? I hate judgment, but I didn’t share in all of Rivia’s idealism. Never really thought I could be in something that brings about change. So, I guess I just focus on my own small world, trying to do the best I can.”

  “You’re being truthful. You really do see things like that,” Temki murmured. “But what I see… is someone who is scared of the world, other people, your own emotions, and is reluctant to get help. You think the only way to prove anything to yourself and others is by killing—trying to avenge all those people you lost. But could you ever really be fulfilled?”

  Garder scowled. “Don’t lecture me. You’re not saying anything I haven’t already realized. I know I’m weak. But I have to keep fighting, to make it feel like I’m doing anything at all to make this war end sooner. And if I survive it, I just want to live alone, in peace.”

  “And shut out the world… right? Is that really the best thing for you? I’m not trying to talk you out of this, but after we’re past B, if we do in fact win soon, I believe you’ll have a reckoning. You’ll have to face what you’ve done and face the consequences. For your family’s sake, I hope you respect any punishment they may hand down, and learn how to forgive yourself. But if you die today… I doubt Milla will ever forgive you.”

  Garder had nothing else to say, and Temki could tell that his determination was unwavering. With a sigh, he closed his eyes, held out his hands, and pictured a basic blade in his mind. He would model it off of the way he saw an old friend at the moment; a reflection of his current outlook on life. Dark, twisted, and both honed and fragile.

  Glowing particles came to life in the air, swirling about as they combined into a tempered sword in a gun metal gray. It was thin and had the powerful curve of a scimitar, its cross-guard of a deep crimson. Once it finished forming, it plummeted towards the ground. Garder caught it by the grip before it landed and gave the mind-matter weapon a test swing.

  “It’s so light,” he remarked. “And it looks quite sharp.”

  “It’s as strong as any other synthesized weapon,” Temki said. “So, yes, precisely sharp… but not durable. I wouldn’t try to block with it.”

  “Usually, I’m too fast to have to worry about that.”

  “Just promise me something, as best you can,” Temki spoke up against the sounds of firing engines that filled the air. “Try to find some happiness again. And don’t let Caeden run your life. He isn’t you, and you don’t belong to him. I understand why you think you need to rely on his power, but he’s clearly a bad influence, and is making you miserable.”

  Garder looked at Temki, and gave him a nod. The kid didn’t know just how tangled up the two souls had become, and Garder didn’t think he could explain it. Had the mind paradigm been given a moment of quiet to delve deep into their shared psyche, he may have seen it for himself.

  Instead, with time running out, Temki settled for placing his trust in Garder one last time and extended his hand. Grateful that he was far more agreeable about helping him than Hekens had been, Garder took it into a firm grip, and again disappeared from the eyes of humanity.

  He reappeared in the back of the sling ship, attracting the attention of the strapped-in soldiers right away. To them, he may as well have been cloaked by a light spell. Surely it couldn’t be that he had simply gone unnoticed by everyone onboard for the duration of the flight.

  “G-Garder?” Izae exclaimed from her seat, as he and Temki made slow progress forward, gripping onto the safety bars as the aircraft shook violently. “H-how? How did you get onboard?”

  There were similar comments from the others, but there was no time to spare to answer them or offer any assurances. The pilot was trying everything he could to stay in the air as a massive, encircling tornado tore apart the City outside and threw debris into the fuselage.

  “Milla, we’re losing everyone out here!” Xavier said into his headset, as loudly as his gravelly voice could muster.

  If her reply came through, it was too faint for anyone to hear.

  Garder made it to the cockpit and placed a hand on his panicking friend’s shoulder. Startled, Xavier looked up, speechless at first.

  “Pilot, slow down as much as you can and open the door,” Garder instructed. “I’ll try to take out those alchemagists.”

  “What are you doing—”

  Garder cut off Xavier, “I’ll explain later. Just open the door so I can send out alchemagi. I’m here to save you.”

  “At this point, I won’t question it,” the pilot said and went for the door lever at his side, which he had to pull with all his strength.

  Managing to keep the ship flying at the same time, he got the door open against the heavy winds. The cabin was momentarily blasted by gusts before Garder could create a barrier of air pressure to keep them back. He grabbed a pair of goggles from above the door, strapped them on, and then held onto the doorframe with just a thumb and one finger—his other three were outstretched and ready to cast, as his left hand held Temki’s again.

  The sling was still moving fast and not at all stable, and the City had become a torrential mess of debris; Garder had underestimated just how difficult it would be to launch targeted spells in such conditions.

  Even so, he had to try. With his jacket fluttering in the now mild breeze, he used Temki’s amplification to almost effortlessly create distant bombs of air near a rooftop alchemagist he could just barely see. Taken by surprise, the enemy was thrown off the building, his black robes vanishing into the wind-lashed chaos below. But he was only one of dozens of spell-casters, sacrificing a segment of B to destroy a threat to local suppression.

  Garder fired off a maelstrom spell to generate a small twister of his own on another building, but his target reacted quickly, using iron control to peel apart and curl upward some of the rooftop. Doing so shielded him from the deadly spell that Garder was only able to maintain for a moment.

  “Can we go any slower?” he shouted over the wind. “I barely have time to say the words in my head before my targets are out of range!”

  “We’ll drop like a rock in these downdrafts if we lose anymore speed!” the pilot yelled back. “We can’t—ah, hold on everyone!”

  Temki yanked at Garder’s hand, getting him to face forward in time to see the building approaching through the windshield. He had just a second to brace himself and grip onto a safety bar as tightly as he could.

  Unable to get out of the way of the tower, at the last moment the pilot instead hit a rudder pedal to adjust the ship’s angle just enough to ram it through one of the large windows. The sling shattered the glass and kept going, barely able to fit into the large office space inside. With the bottom and top of the fuselage grinding against the floor and ceiling, resulting in momentum-killing friction that rained sparks in all directions, the pilot maxed out the engine in an attempt to push the aircraft to the other side.

  Smashing through work desks and crushing chairs under its belly, the sling plowed across the office and out the north end of the building, where it had lost too much speed to remain aloft. The full-throttle power brought it back up just a hundred feet from the ruined street and the bird took to the air again, but now she appeared to be heading straight for the edge of the vortex uncontrollably, where everyone would be shredded apart by shrapnel-filled winds moving at hundreds of miles an hour.

  “We need to turn!” Xavier exclaimed.

  “Rudder’s not responding!” the pilot called out, as he repeatedly slammed the pedals. “We must’ve lost it. I’ll try the ailerons, but slings have a sluggish yaw. Everyone, brace for impact!”

  “Garder!” Temki yelled as he tried to tug him away from the door. “We have to find some seats! We’re going to crash!”

  Feeling like the situation was hopeless, and he had been useless, Garder gazed out into the controlled hurricane as rooftops passed by. For a brief instant, he saw the suppression broadcast mast just outside of the gray swirling barrier. He could reach it with a major spell, and take care of the alchemagists maintaining the terrifying storm at the same time. As far as he knew, all of the other Angel aircraft had already gone down. Maybe there were survivors on the ground, but they couldn’t wait to find out. This would either be a total failure of an operation… or a pyrrhic victory.

  He raised three fingers again, and squeezed Temki’s hand harder.

  “Garder, what are you—”

  “It’ll be okay,” he murmured. “We’ll be safe inside. Boost me.”

  “A-are you… But the damage that will…”

  “I’m sorry. It’s the most we can do now.”

  Trying to push his worries aside, Temki rather listlessly did as he was asked. Within seconds, the air pressure changed and a mist began to form across the City. From the cockpit, the visibility was reduced even further, and Xavier became terrifyingly aware of what was coming.

  “Garder, no!” he cried out. “Don’t pressure bomb the—”

  Air and sound escaped the cabin, silencing the man Garder was hoping to save. Moments later, the sphere of compressed air expanded outward at tremendous speed to fill a wide vacuum across the badly damaged urban center, far faster and more destructive than the first time Garder had performed the technique on the icy hills outside of I.

  Aurra had seldom seen such power.

  “Replay that part again,” Milla told the operator in the burrow’s command center, unable to keep the fear out of her voice as her father nervously bit his thumb nearby. “What did Xavier say just before the transmission cut out? God… damn it, I can’t believe Garder…”

  The operator did everything he could to clean up the recording, and turned the volume up before replaying the words from his terminal. It was barely audible, but the two easily deciphered Xavier’s panicked remark.

  “He pressure-bombed B…” Leovyn murmured. “And Temki amplified it. Milla…” he turned to her, “what if there’s nothing left?”

  She only had to think about the Angels’ next move for a beat before replying, “We’re going to go see for ourselves. All of us.”