NaNoWriMo Post the OH MY GOD IT'S FINISHED

Alexander and Sarah reached the transit station in only four minutes. Alexander walked up to the clerk.
“I need transport for two to the station on Quick Street,” he said.
“That’s five bronze pieces,” the clerk, a teenage boy, yawned.
Alexander reached into his pocket and pulled out his new key. Disbelief and embarrassment washed through him. There was a transit station attached to the Constabulary, but he’d completely forgotten.
He showed the clerk the key anyway, hoping his face didn’t reveal his irritation with himself. “Listen, I’m on official business. I need you to get me that transport, now.”
“Fine, fine,” the boy said, rolling his eyes. “You know, you have your own station over there, right?”
Alexander growled, and let a tiny fleck of lightning escape the air and ground itself in the boy’s desk. He squeaked and hurriedly sorted through his destination cards, finding the one he needed and handing it over. Alexander snidely thanked him and stalked into the main room, gesturing for Sarah to follow. They hurried to the single, lonely lamp circle, guarded by a middle-aged woman in Kosmima robes. Alexander handed the woman the card, and turned to Sarah. “You should go first. It’s your brother.” She nodded, and stepped into the circle. The Kosmima woman began giving her the safety speech. Alexander wanted to howl with frustration. Sometime during his scry, Sarah’s quiet desperation had leaked into him, and he was driven to find her brother. The Kosmima adept finally activated the circle, sending Sarah off with a bright flash. Alexander moved to follow, but the woman raised a hand to stop him.
“What?” he snarled.
“The crystals must cool,” she said icily. “We have no other circles. You must wait.”
Alexander tore at his hair, but forced himself not to berate the woman, who did show every sign of watching the circle intently, though whether she was trying to help out a person in need or get rid of an annoying customer, Alexander couldn’t say.
Finally, she motioned for him to step between the lamps. She began to give him the safety speech, and Alexander groaned with sheer impatience. The woman didn’t miss a beat, though her stormy expression answered Alexander’s earlier question.
He felt the familiar disorientation, the typical flare of white light, and the usual brief dizzy spell when he landed. He stepped out of the receptor circle and ran into a wall. He recoiled, startled, and realized he was back in the transit room of the Constabulary.
“Sarah?” he called, going through the closest door, which led to the departure room. “Sarah, are you here?” The room was occupied only by the Kosmima operative, who was actually an officer, not a member of the guild.
“You’re the first person I’ve seen all day,” the man told him. “Need to go somewhere?”
“Quick Street. And it needs to be fast,” Alexander said. Even though he’d dodged the pun out of long practice, the officer chuckled while he gestured for Alexander to walk into the lamp circle. With no time wasted, Alexander was warped across the town.
When he landed, he stumbled out of the circle, nausea gripping his guts. Sarah was waiting for him, concern on her face.
“What took you so long? What’s wrong?” she asked, putting a hand on Alexander’s shoulder.
“The woman sent me to the wrong station. Two jumps in a row make me sick,” he explained, keeping his words brief. “Devon was talking to the clerk in the entryway. She knows me, doesn’t like me. You talk to her.” Anger glinted in Sarah’s eyes, but she walked with Alexander to one of the benches near the door before going to accost the clerk.
Alexander felt heat rising up beneath him, and saw small mother-of-pearl strips in the floor. The heat eased his vicious cramps, and he found the focus to extend his hearing into the other room.
“Yes, he spoke to me, but when I explained I couldn’t send him to Port Nanfula, he charged out. If you’re his sister, why is he so keen to get away from you anyway?”
“That’s not really your business,” Sarah replied icily. “Do you know where he went?” Her tone sent a spike of fear deep into Alexander’s spine. He wouldn’t have been able to resist answering, for sure.
“He left. I felt someone use a lot of Petra power, and they headed off west, but I don’t know if that was him,” the girl answered, her voice slightly cowed.
Sarah thanked her coldly and walked back into the transit room to Alexander. “We lost him,” she said. He saw her fighting the tears that were welling up.
“Not quite,” he pointed out. “I know that sometime soon he’ll be at the top of some kind of tower. I didn’t recognize it, but there aren’t very many high places like that in Zydobe. Let’s go back to the Constabulary and see if anyone there has noticed anything strange.” He gave Sarah what he hoped was an encouraging smile, forced himself to stand, and they walked over to the lamp circles closest. At least his nausea was fading.

Devon woke, his head aching fiercely. He was lying on some kind of stone floor, but something was very wrong. He tried to pull in some strength, but he could only feel a whisper in the smooth blocks.
“Ah, you’re awake.” The voice belonged to a thin woman, seated casually next to him. Her legs dangled off the edge of the platform, and he suddenly noticed they were hundreds of feet in the air. “Don’t panic. Even if you fall off, there’s another platform under you,” the woman said, still gazing out over the ocean view. “Who are you, anyway?”
“Who wants to know?” he spat. He couldn’t pull in any strength from this stone, but he could use the Panida energy in his blood to ease the pain in his head.
“I suppose it doesn’t really matter.” She turned her head to glance at him. She had an astonishing amount of jewelry, all of cut and polished Kosmima gems. Devon could feel the power vibrating around her, despite his almost total lack of Kosmima ability. “We’ll just hold you up here until you die of exposure. Or maybe, if those quaking airships stop development, we’ll let you out. We’ll see.” The setting sun glinted off her blond hair, and dyed the fog bank stretching out under him a sullen red.
“What airships? Why are you going to murder me?” Devon asked, panic bubbling in his mind. “Where am I? Who are you?”
“If you don’t know, I’m certainly not going to tell you,” she laughed. “Are you trying to tell me you accidentally overheard us? Don’t waste my time. Just because you’re Terros doesn’t mean those upstarts couldn’t hire you to spy.”
“Spy on who?” Devon asked.
“Whom,” she corrected absently, as if she didn’t even realize she was doing it. “And you’re still doing it. Very dedicated of you.” She fiddled with one of her earrings, a pearl stud up on the top of her left ear, and rippled. With a silver sparkle, she morphed into a mirror image of Devon, complete with the nasty red mark on his forehead. “Even if that bitch detective saw me take you here, she’s going to see you walk out. No one knows where you are, and you’re not going to be drawing any power out from this stone. It’s been sculpted for so many years, you’d have to be Terros himself to affect it. Good luck with that.” With that cryptic well-wishing, she slipped over the edge. There was a soft thud, and before Devon could follow her, a soft screen of light sprang up around the platform, hemming him in. A touch confirmed its nature – a Kosmima gem-barrier.
He got to his feet and explored the platform. It was rather wide, and perfectly circular. There were two large stone walls to the east and west, blocking the majority of the view. The gem barrier was translucent up high, but grew more opaque closer to the stone platform, preventing him from looking down. He stared out, but he could only see the top of the fog bank, fifty feet below him.
He sank back down onto the stone, mortally sure he knew where he was. In a last ditch effort to preserve hope, he closed his eyes and let his map lore roll out passively, wanting to see an image of the area.
Sure enough, his lore confirmed his fear. He was at the top of one of the Zydobe Needles. His map lore couldn’t tell him which one, since unlike Port Nanfula, both Temples were identical. He would bet it was the Terros Needle, though, since the woman seemed to have blithely passed through all the layers of Temple security. The Eye was normally heavily restricted, and normal civilians were absolutely not allowed up here. He really was trapped.
He started trying to think of what he could do. There was no metal anywhere, and the woman hadn’t lied about the stone, so Petra would do him no good. There was no plant life up here, even moss or mold, and his feeble Panida couldn’t reach far enough to catch a seagull’s attention, and even if he could, he didn’t have Sarah’s ability to communicate with animals.
That left Kosmima. If he’d learned anything on his voyage here, it was that even a weakness could be refined and strengthened. He sat down next to the gem barrier and found one of the opals powering it. He stared at the shimmering white flake of crystal, sinking down into a trance and feeling the silvery energy inside the stone. He sent a tendril of his own energy into the stone, and met a glass wall that resisted him completely. He growled, and focused harder.

Alexander and Sarah walked into the Constabulary, weary and sick from the rapid jumps. Sarah’s Terros blessing made her a little more resistant to the ill effects, but she was still green. They nearly ran into Andrea, who was pacing wearily into her office.
“Cartwright! Ms. Knowles! Glad you’re here. Ms. Knowles, if you’ll wait for a moment, I need to speak to my detective,” she said, moderating her normal brusque tone, though whether that was for Sarah or out of tiredness Alexander couldn’t say. She held the door to her tiny office open for Alexander, who nodded and smiled at Sarah before entering. He took the chair and waited for Andrea to seat herself.
“We caught a break in the airship case,” she told him. “The men keeping an eye on Life Support intercepted a meeting. They apprehended three Kosmima guild members as well as Isaac.” She looked at Alexander, several emotions on her face. “They’re all in the jail on the top level.”
Alexander took in several deep breaths. Emotion ran wild inside him; grim satisfaction made his lips twist in a smirk, but sullen anger beat against his eyes like a heartbeat, and deep sorrow weighed down on his heart like a heavy blanket. “Were any of them hurt?” he finally asked.
“One of the guild members fought back, and had to be knocked out. But everyone else is fine. We haven’t started questioning them yet. I thought you might want to be there for it.”
Guilt added its own weight to the morass inside him. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting, I was helping Sarah.”
Andrea waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t worry about that, I want them to stew in their cells for some time. And there’s more going on in the city than just these airship attacks.” She paused, clearly searching for words. “And…you have authority to go in and speak to them on your own. Any time you want. You don’t need me with you.” She looked at him, awaiting his reaction.
Alexander tried to give her a casual smile. “Thanks. I might go up and talk to those guild members, see if I can get anything out of them.”
Andrea waited a beat, then seemed to realize Alexander wasn’t going to say anything else about Isaac. She nodded, and seemed to gather her usual hard boiled persona around herself before speaking again. “Go get Ms. Knowles, please. I need to speak with her as well, and you might as well stay since you’re involved.”
Alexander nodded, and stood, grateful to get a chance away from Andrea’s knowing eyes. She knew not to give him overt sympathy, but even her strange blend of realistic straight-shooting and sympathy awoke hurt and bitterness within him. He escaped her office, and after closing the door he leaned against the wall for a moment, closing his eyes and tilting his head back, trying to regain control over himself.
He heard footsteps, and a gentle hand touched his arm. “Are you all right?” It was Sarah. Alexander opened his eyes and saw her standing next to him, looking at him with concern. “You…look upset,” she said.
“I’m fine,” Alexander replied, shifting away from her touch with what he hoped was subtlety. “Chief Fields would like to speak with you. Go on in, please.” He pointed at the door he’d just left.
Sarah looked at him for a moment, concern in her eyes, but she went into Andrea’s office without a word. Alexander followed her, closing the door after him and leaning against it while Sarah sat down in the single chair.
“I think we’ve had a break in your case,” Andrea said, getting right down to business. “Miss Deen was last seen exiting the Kosmima Guildhouse carrying an unconscious person along with two of the other suspects in our investigation. I got a decent look and he seemed to match your description, Ms. Knowles.”
Alexander twisted the light coming from Andrea’s desk lantern into a handful of shadow, weaving a dim illusion of Devon’s face. Andrea peered at it, then nodded.
“I couldn’t follow them, but we’ve apprehended her two assistants and they’re awaiting questioning in our cells,” Andrea continued. “Alexander and I were about to head up there to get some information. You can come along with us, but I’m afraid you can’t speak to the prisoners with us. Or you could tell us where you’re staying and we’ll come to you with any information we get.”
Sarah’s face was set in a tight, angry expression. “I want to come with you. I’ve been looking for my brother for weeks, I don’t want to waste any more time.”
“I thought that might be how you would react,” Andrea said, a grim smile on her face. “All right, let’s get moving.” She stood, and motioned for Alexander and Sarah to exit the office. She extinguished her lantern and followed them out, locking the office door behind her.
They entered the Constabulary transit station. Andrea walked up to the attendant.
“We need to go to the jail,” she told him. The man nodded, and pulled a destination card out of a small drawer. Andrea walked into the lamp circle, and disappeared with a flash.
“So, why do we have to wait between each transit?” Alexander asked. “I’ve never been able to get an answer from a Kosmima guild member.”
The man smirked. “The fancy answer is that you have to ‘wait for the sympathetic vibrations to slow down, so as to prevent unnecessary detachment of necessary parts’,” he said, affecting a pretentious, snobby voice. “Which is a clean way of saying, if you transit too fast, your arm could come off. Or the topaz could crack.”
Alexander’s eyes widened. “No wonder they don’t tell laypeople,” he said. “No one would use transit stations.”
“Oh, the vibrations slow down pretty fast. Standard wait time is five minutes, but you’re basically safe after one,” the man assured him. “You ready to go?”
Alexander looked distrustfully at the lamps. “Are they safe?” His only answer was a sinister laugh. Alexander walked nervously into the circle, and was quickly overwhelmed by bright whiteness.
He arrived in a small room much like the one he’d left. Andrea was waiting for him, arms crossed and boot-clad feet tapping. Alexander walked out of the circle and over to her. Once he was out of the circle, she turned and exited through the only door in the room. Alexander followed, looking over his shoulder bemusedly.
They passed another officer serving as a Kosmima attendant. “A woman is about to arrive. Keep her here,” Andrea ordered as they passed. The attendant saluted. Alexander followed the chief’s determined stride, slightly reassured now that he knew Sarah wasn’t being completely abandoned.
Andrea led him through a doorway and down a flight of stairs. The further they went underground, the more skittish he felt. Being separated from open air was like going slowly blind. The air he was breathing was empty of any kind of vitality, suffocated by layers of stone. His vision dimmed and his hearing faded, and he started fidgeting, trying to distract himself from the awful feeling. The air grew colder, unnaturally so. Light came from small torches set in holders on the wall. Alexander was struck by a terrifying thought: what if the torches ate all the air underground? What if they were trapped down here and suffocated to death?
“Cartwright. Calm down,” Andrea spoke up suddenly. “I can feel you panicking from here. We’re barely underground. There are ventilation shafts. You’re not going to suffocate.”
Alexander took in a shuddering breath, and tried to keep his feelings under control. “How could you tell?” he asked.
Andrea snorted. “Every time I come down here with an Atmos person for the first time, they have the exact same reaction. You’d think they’d never been in a basement before.” She stopped suddenly, turning to a door in the wall to her right. She pressed her palm to its center, and closed her eyes. Pink light shimmered under her hand, and the wooden door silently swung open, letting a wash of foul, stale air into the stairwell. Alexander recoiled, coughing. The air smelled like pain, fear, and despair.
“It’s ugly in here, Cartwright,” Andrea said softly. “But it’s ugly because of years of imprisonment. No one in here has been tortured. They’re fed, given water, and they’re clean. You’re smelling decades of mistreatment, and it’ll take more decades before that goes away. Are you all right?”
Alexander nodded, and turned away from the door, inhaling deeply. Even the thin, dusty air of the stairwell was far preferable to the rancid atmosphere past that door. But he had to follow Andrea. He had to see the prisoners taken because of him. He had to see Isaac.
Andrea looked at him, gauging his ability to handle the room, then strode in. Alexander followed, steeling himself against every breath. Inside the door, a small hallway with iron-barred doorways stretched. There were three cells on each side. Andrea passed the first pair, and paused in front of the second. She touched the door on her right, which unlocked with a loud clank. She pushed the door open and walked in, beckoning for Alexander to follow. He did, closing the cage door behind himself.
The cell was not large, and with three people cramped was the best way to describe it. A small bed was the only furniture. Sitting on it was a young woman, her blue eyes wide and fearful in a pale face. She wore only a white shirt and dark pants, her Kosmima guild robes presumably confiscated when she was arrested. She was staring at Andrea in open fear, though she wasn’t cringing or trying to hide.
“What’s your name?” Andrea asked, no hint of how she felt in her voice, only calm detachment.
“Aimee,” the girl said softly.
“Aimee. You were arrested because of your involvement with a group guilty of attempted murder, attempted mass murder, and industrial sabotage,” Andrea said coolly. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” She stood with her feet somewhat apart, her arms crossed comfortably under her breasts.
The girl, who couldn’t be more than twenty years old, took in a deep breath. “We never murdered anyone!” she said defiantly. “We always had everyone near where the crashes would happen, so we could heal anyone that was injured! There were no deaths!”
Alexander’s eyebrows shot up and his eyes widened, but Andrea showed no reaction to this confession.
“That’s not what your companions say,” she said. “Want to give the truth another chance?”
“No! That is the truth!” Aimee said, defiance gone in the face of this apparent betrayal. “Ask anyone who was there! I healed several people at the first crash! Ask them!” Tears began to leak down her face. “I didn’t kill anyone! I only helped people!”
“And what about the airship operator who was shot and killed?” Andrea asked. Alexander barely stopped himself from doing a double take. He thought he had figured out what Andrea was doing.
“The…who? Who was shot?” Aimee asked, her voice wretchedly desperate. “I don’t know anything about that. I just know I was supposed to be on the docks so I could save people who weren’t smart enough to get out of the way. We were prepared for accidents!”
“Let’s say I believe you about that,” Andrea said, her voice dropping a degree or two. “Who makes the plans? Who is in charge? And don’t even think about lying to a Tranquilus adept,” she added, jerking her head at Alexander, who tried to look as intimidating as Andrea.
“I…you can’t…” Aimee stammered. She looked truly miserable, every scrap of her earlier attempts at courage wiped away by Andrea’s questioning, simple as it was. “Jenay Deen,” she admitted, slumping down on her bed. “She’s in charge of it all.”
Andrea nodded, satisfaction flitting briefly across her face. “You made the right choice, Aimee. Try not to cause any trouble, and maybe we can come to an understanding.” She turned, and motioned for Alexander to open the door, pointedly ignoring the way Aimee looked up, suddenly hopeful. Alexander tried the door, which was of course locked. Andrea made an impatient noise, and Alexander felt the handle under his hand shiver, and the door swung open. He stepped out, followed by Andrea, and let the heavy door swing shut.
“So now we know it’s Jenay,” Alexander said. Andrea shook her head.
“We need more than one young girl’s statement,” she said. “If all of them agree, then we’ll be somewhere. Let’s keep going. If you hear anything suspicious, signal me.” She waited for his nod, then opened the second door. Alexander wondered idly how she could open the doors with her blessing, but the Kosmima adepts inside could not. He followed Andrea in, then stopped dead.
Inside the cell was Isaac.
He couldn’t possibly have been in lockup for more than a few hours, but he looked horrible. A bruise covered most of his face, and his hair looked like part of it had been burned away. He was slumped against the far wall, sitting on the narrow bed, eyes closed. Alexander felt like his breath had been violently ripped from his lungs, and he had to fight down the urge to go sit next to Isaac and pour as much healing as he could over the bruises.
Andrea very conspicuously did not look at Alexander, and started immediately with her questions. “Isaac Bright,” she said. “Do you know why you’re here?”
Isaac waved dismissively at her without opening his eyes. “I was innocently tending my bar, and your thugs broke in, assaulted my patrons, and arrested me without any sort of evidence,” he said loftily. Alexander’s eyebrows shot up. Isaac was many things, but this noble aloofness was not one of them. Where had he come by this air of affectation? He wished they were aboveground, where he’d have a chance at hearing a lie, even through the fog.
Andrea snorted. “You know damn well that’s not true,” she replied scathingly. “Why don’t you just tell us what your part in this cabal is, so we can negotiate your release?”
Isaac sniffed haughtily and opened his eyes. He gazed at Andrea, and though Alexander was right there, he didn’t seem to notice his ex-lover’s presence. Alexander’s confusion grew; the last time he’d seen Isaac, the man had been distraught over his betrayal of Alexander. He couldn’t have gotten over that this quickly, surely?
“Cabal?” Isaac asked, lifting his chin and acting for all the world as if he was on the Council of Merchants in one of their grand chambers, and not beaten and bruised in a filthy cell. “I certainly don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Alexander perked up. Even through the dry, stale, abuse-laden air, he’d caught a quiver of…something. He stepped close to Andrea.
“Something’s not right,” he murmured. “There’s something wrong with him.” Andrea nodded, and made a broad gesture. Alexander glimpsed a brief sparkle of green and pink, and Isaac slumped further, deep asleep.
Alexander whistled. “How’d you pull that off?” he asked, impressed.
Andrea sniffed. “A woman never reveals her secrets,” she responded, before moving to examine Isaac more closely. When she came within a couple feet, there was a high-pitched whine, and a bright flash of light. Andrea was thrown back, her back slamming violently against the door. Alexander only felt the breeze of her passing, nothing more. He knelt quickly by her side, touching her face and hands, trying to see if she was injured. Before he could get a sense of what had happened, he heard Isaac’s voice.
“Alexander!” No longer the self-assured, pseudo-nobleman, Isaac’s voice sounded panicked and exhausted. Alexander looked over his shoulder, and his eyes widened in shock. Isaac was wreathed in a white flame, with orange flickers limning his face. He seemed to be mostly unable to move, but he could speak. “Alexander, Jenay’s after you! She knows you suspect her, and she—” His voice choked off as the orange light swirled around his throat. Alexander was caught, unwilling to leave Andrea’s side, but filled with the need to go to the man he had loved. The white fire – gemfire, Alexander realized – flared up, consuming Isaac. There was a low moan, and the whole conflagration vanished with a flash.
Alexander blinked and rubbed his eyes furiously, trying to clear his vision out. He kept one hand on Andrea, and sent a small, gentle pulse of Tranquilus power into her, all he could muster out of the barren air. As his vision cleared, he heard Isaac speak again, once more with the cool arrogance of authority.
“If you have nothing to ask me, please leave me be,” Alexander heard. His vision was stubbornly refusing to clear, clouds of acid green seared onto his vision in the shape of a man on fire. “I am quite weary and wish to rest.”
With a gasp, Andrea came to, sitting upright and knocking Alexander off balance. He sprawled out, bracing himself on the floor, even though it was disgustingly slimy to the touch. He couldn’t help but think that he would never be able to wear these pants again. That thought was immediately replaced by an overwhelming need to know what was happening to Isaac.
“What happened?” Andrea asked, echoing his thoughts. “I put him to sleep – then what?”
“There was some kind of reaction. It knocked you out,” Alexander explained. He got to his feet, and went to rub his eyes again, then hesitated, not wanting to touch his face with hands that now felt criminally disgusting. “Isaac, are you still awake?”
“You know, I really prefer when people who don’t know me address me as Sir Bright,” Isaac drawled. “Didn’t I mention I was weary? You can find the door on your own, I’m sure.”
“Terros’s Balls,” Andrea swore. “Is he always like this? How could you stand it?”
Alexander shook his head. “He’s under some kind of influence. While you were out, he was…on fire? Kind of? It was so bright, I still can’t see,” he grumbled, trying to massage his eyes with his sleeve, hoping it was unsoiled.
“That seems ludicrous, even for someone as common as you,” Isaac commented.
“Keep your mouth shut, Bright,” Andrea snapped. “Cartwright. He was on fire, then what?”
Alexander paused for a moment, stunned that Andrea would accept such a ridiculous tale without even a moment of disbelief, then continued. “For a second, it was like I was talking to the real Isaac. He warned me about Jenay, that she was on to us, then it was like something tried to shut him up, and then he turned back into this...person,” he finished. His vision was starting to clear a little bit, and he could see Andrea peering at Isaac, from a safe distance away. Isaac seemed to be staring off into the distance, a peculiarly distant look on his features.
“I see,” Andrea breathed. “Which do you trust?”
Alexander looked at Andrea, puzzled. “What do you mean?”
“I think he’s been seriously rubydazzled, and then had someone put a Panida emotional block on him. I’ve seen this before, and what’s weird about it is the personality types that emerge have nothing to do with which one is lying,” she explained. “Just because this Isaac is a pompous ass doesn’t mean he’s less trustworthy. Hey, Lord Huffington,” she said suddenly, raising her voice. “Is Jenay Deen a murdering bitch?”
Isaac’s expression suddenly animated, and he spoke. “Mademoiselle Deen is a paragon of moral virtue, something which you, young lady, clearly do not understand,” he said, managing to stare down his nose at Andrea despite the difference in their elevation. When she didn’t respond, his face lost the haughty cast and returned to that strange distance.
“See? It’s not that his personality has been erased, it’s just temporarily suppressed,” Andrea explained. “When I put him under, it must have let the real Isaac’s personality surface. But he’s still the same person, with the same memories. One of them is lying, but it’s not as simple as ‘which one is nicer’.” She shrugged. “You know him best. Which can we trust? I can probably bring up the other Isaac one more time, but I’d rather keep that to a minimum.”
Alexander looked from Isaac to Andrea a few times, startled. “Wait, I have to decide which one is telling the truth?”
“You’re the Tranquilus adept,” Andrea said dryly. “Not to mention you’ve been living with him. Should be simple!”
Alexander covered his face with his hands, then recoiled as the stench on them assaulted his nose, and spat viciously, making sure nothing had gotten in his mouth. He thought back to the few words the other Isaac had managed to get out. He hadn’t heard anything to indicate a lie, or a truth. And there’d been a subtle shiver around Pompous Ass Isaac’s voice, but he couldn’t say what it meant. The air down here was too suffocated. He had to go with his gut.
He closed his eyes, and all the feelings he’d been trying to avoid came crashing down on him. Despair, anger, loneliness, regret, depression, bitterness. The time he’d been apart from Isaac had done nothing to lessen how hurt he was. He felt it like a burn in his chest, a fist around his heart. His eyes started to fill with tears as he let all the emotions he’d been holding at arm’s length wash through him. He couldn’t help the way his breath started to hitch, and though he tried he couldn’t stop the tears that began to streak down his face.
“Oh, Lord, is he really crying?” Isaac asked, disgusted. The words struck Alexander, shocking him out of his destructive spiral. He took deep breaths, trying to ignore the filthiness of the air, and got himself under control. He turned to look at Isaac, his vision finally clear of the disturbing afterimages.
“Did you love me?” he asked clearly, his voice wobbling a little. “Was it real?”
“Love a little screwy pansy boy like you?” Isaac responded. “Why would I ever waste my time?”
Again, the pressure in Alexander’s chest didn’t change. He turned to look at Andrea. “It’s the other one,” he said. “This one’s a liar.”
Andrea smiled gently, touched Alexander’s shoulder for a moment, then turned to leave. Alexander followed her, and forced himself not to look over his shoulder before closing the door behind him.
“So the stories corroborate,” Andrea mused. “Jenay Deen is the leader of this ring of saboteurs. We just need to track her down and arrest her. Do we have any idea where she is?”
Alexander shook his head. He reached up to push hair out of his eyes, but recoiled when he saw his disgusting hands. “I think the only thing we have is that you last saw her in the Terros Needle with Devon. And that you weren’t able to get in at all.”
A wicked smile spread across Andrea’s face. “I think I can get us in. Follow me.”
She opened the door to the main staircase, and Alexander walked out into comparatively clean air with a huge sigh of relief. He believed Andrea when she said that the holding cells were no longer used for torture, but he doubted the stink of pain and fear would ever leave that underground room.
Andrea led them back up into the lobby of the transit station, where Sarah was waiting with poorly-disguised impatience. She sprang up out of the uncomfortable-looking chair as soon as she saw them and strode over, clearly intent on demanding an explanation. Andrea cut her off, holding up her hands placatingly.
“Miss Knowles, we have collected the witnesses’ statements and we have a plan to rescue your brother,” she said, before Sarah could get a word out. Alexander’s eyebrows shot up, and he opened his mouth to ask what that plan was, since he hadn’t heard anything about it, but Andrea continued on. “We’ll need your help with some of the execution. Are you available tonight?”
Sarah’s face morphed from resolution to grim excitement. “Just let me know what you need,” she said. Andrea smiled wickedly, again, and reached out to shake the woman’s hand. She glanced over her shoulder at Alexander, and asked “You’re pretty good with your Algidus, right?”
Alexander had a sudden feeling that he would learn to hate that wicked smile.

Devon sprawled on his back, exhausted. He hadn’t been able to turn off any of the opals or emeralds creating the barrier. He’d succeeded in making a mother-of-pearl disc heat up so that it scorched the stone around it, but any of the gems already in use were untouchable. He lay back, wondering if he was really going to die up here. It seemed awfully harsh for overhearing a conversation. He didn’t even know what they had been talking about!
Night had fallen in earnest, and the stars were twinkling brightly, especially since the fog smothered all the city lights. The constellations were different here on the southern side of the world. He didn’t recognize any of them, and was overwhelmed with the need to see Panida the Hunter, or Algidus the Scales, or even Petra the Farmer, though that constellation was made of mostly dim stars. Which had always irked him, now that he thought about it.
He heard a scraping sound, and got to his feet. He pulled on the stone platform, reasoning even a tiny particle of extra strength was better than none. The gem barrier went down, and Devon charged for the edge. A flash of light and a burst of force flung him back, and he landed on his side. The blond woman stepped up onto the platform, decked out in gems of every color and wreathed in shifting, multicolored gemfire.
“I wanted to come tell you, we decided not to let you die of exposure up here,” she said. “Terros might get angry at us. We’re just going to kill you instead.”
“I thought you were trying to avoid deaths!” Devon said, focusing every fragment of energy he had on the diamond next to the woman’s foot, though he resolutely looked her in the eye. “You’ve done nothing illegal yet, don’t start now!”
“We don’t want to kill anyone from Zydobe. But Nanfulans? Your city is in ruins. No one cares about you. I doubt anyone will even notice.” She smiled and wiggled her fingers. A ruby ring flashed, and the world spun around Devon, sending him to his knees. “And stop trying to hit me with a diamondlight. You’re pathetic at it.”
He forced himself to look at her, though his vision swam with the effects of the rubydazzle. “Kill me then. But someone will notice, I promise.”
She smiled coldly, and unbuttoned her coat to reveal a huge diamond on a golden chain. “We’ll deal with that then, I suppose,” she said. The diamond began to glitter with light as she focused her power into a killing beam.

Alexander stood at the base of the Terros Needle. “Are you sure this will work?”
“If I were a man, I’d be freezing my balls off, so yes,” Andrea snapped. “Stop dithering and climb!”
Wrapped in fog, Alexander placed his bare hand on the stone. Cold bit into his flesh, and rather than ignoring it, Alexander took the freezing energy and invested his hand with it. He lifted a foot and braced it against the stone, doing the same thing. He pushed up, and his hand and foot stuck to the stone, just as Andrea had claimed they would.
“All right, now get yourself some height so I can pull this line taut,” Andrea said. She’d given Alexander a harness with a strong, but light line attached. Somehow, he was going to pull her and Sarah to the top of the Needle.
Alexander climbed up carefully, detaching and reestablishing his hand- and footholds on the icy stone. Andrea hadn’t divulged how she’d learned this technique, citing only that she “had a past”.
“All right, hold it!” she called, pitching her voice low so that it didn’t carry. “Sarah, got your staff?”
Sarah hefted the dark wooden pole. Andrea swore Fytevo would let them change their weight as long as they had ebony poles. Alexander hoped it would work, because he definitely couldn’t lift the both of them.
“All right, Cartwright. Keep going. You can’t get all the way up to the Eye, so just get us as high as you can before you go in a window or something,” Andrea told him.
Alexander didn’t reply, and just focused on climbing. HE felt a slight tug as Andrea braced against the tower and started following him up, but he didn’t feel like he was carrying any extra weight at all. As he climbed higher, he started enjoying himself. This was almost exciting, and Andrea was a Constabulary chief – they couldn’t be arrested, surely.
The tug when Sarah began climbing was quite a bit heavier, though not enough to cause Alexander problems. He grunted in surprise, which Andrea heard. She started calling instructions down to Sarah, and the strain on the rope eased slowly as the woman grew more confident in her ability to reduce her weight.
Alexander began to get nervous as they got higher. He reached out into the fog and drew it closer, even though he knew no one was likely to see them from the ground. Sparks of electricity flickered in the air around them as the fog reacted to his manipulation. He swore silently, fully tired of this stupid reaction to the airship crash.
“Cartwright!” Andrea called. “You doing all right?”
“Good enough,” he called back, fastening his hand to the Needle. Each time he moved a limb, he was very careful to ensure the grip was secure. The work was getting easier with practice, and he began to feel a calm descend over him, the motions growing meditative.
He reached up again, and his fingers met open air. For a second, his mind was swamped with panic. He explored with his hand, and realized he’d found a window.
“Is this Needle supposed to have windows?” he asked, keeping his voice as low as he could.
“Aye. The monks don’t, but there are parts of the Needle where the poor and homeless live, and they get fresh air and sunlight,” Andrea replied. “Did you find one?”
Alexander started to reply, when the Needle shuddered. He squeezed the window ledge with his free hand and fear flared in his other limbs, strengthening their fastenings to the stone. At least, they strengthened until the stone began to heat up.
“Cartwright!” Andrea barked, forgetting stealth. “Get us inside, now!”
He surged upward, detaching foot and pushing up hard. The window was shuttered, but not glassed over, and the shutteres weren’t fastened, opening easily to his push. He flung himself inside, getting halfway into the window just as the stone became so warm his Algidus was eaten completely away. He wriggled and pushed the rest of his body into the room, drawing the fog in after him and trying as hard as he could to muffle the sound he made with Algidus and Ventus powers.
Once he was fully inside the room, which was almost totally dark, he turned and began pulling on the line. He made sure to keep his pulls steady and slow; he didn’t want either of the women to lose their grip. Soon, Andrea was nimbly clearing the window. She started helping him, and in a moment the three of them were all safely inside.
“Where are we?” Alexander hissed.
“I think this is a storeroom,” Andrea replied. “No idea why it has a window, though.”
“There aren’t any people within about thirty feet,” Sarah said softly. “We’re nearly two-thirds up the Needle. Devon is above us. I think he’s in the Eye itself, but I can’t be certain.”
“Damn, Panida is useful,” Andrea said, impressed. “All right, let’s go. Cartwright, how good are you at stealth inside a building?”
“I’ve never had to do it,” Alexander replied. “It’s pretty warm in here. Why is the Needle heating up like this?”
“No idea. I try to avoid this place,” Andrea replied. “Let’s go. Do whatever you can to be unnoticed. Sarah, you get spooked for any reason, let us know.” She made eye contact with both of them and gave them an encouraging nod, then turned to leave the room, lit only by the faint moonlight coming in through the window.
She led the way, slowly easing open the door. Her artificially dark hair and nondescript clothes blended in well against the stone of the hallways, but she was still perfectly visible with no vegetation to hide her.
Sarah had attempted to change her coloring, but her inferior Fytevo powers had only let her manage a slight duskiness of skin and removed the glossiness of her black hair. She wasn’t as quiet as Andrea, either, but her face was set with the determination to do whatever it took to save her brother.
Alexander had very little to work with. The inside of the tower was warm, though he saw no fires or mother-of-pearl strips. He couldn’t keep a fog cloud around them, of course. He tested the air, and found a smattering of Tranquilus energy. He collected what he could find, and drew shadows over the three of them. The hallways were already dark, and the meager shadow he could manipulate only hid them a little, but if he’d learned nothing from Joachim, it was that every little bit helped.
They progressed slowly down the hallway. Sarah followed Alexander, and Andrea led the way. They crept down the hallway until they reached a spiral staircase lit by torches. The light source deepened the shadow disguise Alexander had woven. As long as they stayed close to a wall, they would remain unnoticed.
“Sarah, any ideas?” Andrea asked softly.
“This staircase goes up most of the way to the Eye,” Sarah replied. “There’s a more central staircase. I can’t tell how to get to it from this far away, though.”
Alexander took a moment to wish he had any kind of travel lore. Even his windreading was pathetic. It would be nice not to have to rely on even someone as competent as Andrea.
The normally-blonde woman led them up the stairs. Alexander’s excitement was morphing into a mixture of tension and dread. His palms were sweating, and he had to keep wiping them on his coat. He tried to push his hearing out, but inside the Needle it was all he could do to maintain their shadow covering.
They climbed for some time, not daring to make any sounds. The higher they got, the warmer it got. Alexander was grateful, since the heat soaked into his legs and eased the burn of exertion.
Abruptly, he felt the energy in the air flip. The oppressing feel of turbulence that he’d felt against his skin for days vanished, replaced by the gentle sunlight-esque sensation of Tranquilus energy. He grinned, and focused on the light all around them. Their shadow cloak vanished, leaving them exposed for a moment before Alexander’s illusion settled in, rendering them effectively invisible. He could see Andrea as a blur in the air before him, and he heard Sarah gasp as he vanished from her sight, but he was sure she could still sense them as they climbed.
They reached a landing, and he saw Andrea’s blur pause. He altered his illusion, and revealed the three of them to each other. It was much easier to keep them separate while moving, but if they were pausing he could keep a larger cloak stable.
“All of a sudden, we’ve got invisibility, Cartwright?” Andrea asked.
“We must be above the fog,” Alexander replied. “And keep your voice down, I can’t do anything about sound. Too warm.”
“Devon’s very close, and he’s really afraid,” Sarah blurted. “I think someone’s with him. We have to hurry.”
Andrea nodded, but before they could move on they heard voices. She signaled them to press against the wall, and Alexander focused on his illusion, making certain there were no flaws or seams in it. Weirdly, his heart slowed, and he felt a strange, sleepy sense of complacency.
Two men, both wearing Kosmima guild dress, came from the stairs above them.
“Jenay is really vicious if she’s really going to kill that guy,” one remarked. “I still think we should just rubydazzle him ‘til he doesn’t know his own name and ship him off to Aethros or Helvinac. He won’t be a problem anymore.”
Alexander heard Sarah suck in a quiet breath, and he felt a spike of panic before that blanket of complacency reasserted itself.
“I don’t really care,” the second man said as they passed the trio. “She’s the one in charge. She does something as stupid as murder a random guy who happened to overhear something, she’ll get locked up and maybe one of us can take over.”
The two continued downward. As soon as they were out of earshot, Andrea turned to face Alexander and Sarah.
“WE need to hurry,” she whispered. “Sarah, direction?”
“Follow me,” she said, stepping forward and out of Alexander’s illusion. He reached out to stop her, but he was too slow.
“I think I left it up in the - ” a voice said as the two men came back up around the curve of the staircase. They saw Sarah, and everyone froze.
“Who are you?” one asked. Sarah’s face contorted, and she threw one hand forward. There was a scarlet flash, and both Kosmima men staggered. One recovered fairly quickly and mad ea gesture that Alexander knew would end badly.
Andrea exploded into action, streaking forward in a gray-and-green blur. She struck the first man with her staff, knocking ihm down the stairs into the other, who was barely getting to his feet.
“Let’s go,” Andrea snapped. “Sarah, lead the way!”
Sarah nodded, and turned to open a door Alexander hadn’t even noticed. They charged through it and into a hallway. Sarah led the way, toward a pair of ornate doors at the end, doors that mirrored the ones at the entrance to the Atmos Needle. Alexander didn’t recognize the deities depicted on the wooden panels, but he assumed they were the aspects of Terros. He had a brief burst of wonder that he was so ignorant about half of his religion, but he quickly dismissed that and focused on keeping up with Sarah and Andrea, who were outstripping him easily.
Before they reached the great doors, Alexander heard a man shout “Halt!” and a sparkling green sheet of light sprang up in front of them.
Andrea didn’t pause. Green and pink light gathered around her fists, and she drove her ebony staff into the light, shattering it with a great flash and roar of sound.
“You two go ahead,” she ordered, pointing. “I’ll hold these off!” Alexander looked back and saw a group of Kosmima men and women headed toward them. Andrea didn’t pause for discussion, she just streaked away.
Sarah nodded intently, and continued, shoving open the wooden doors with surprising strength. They opened on a stone staircase that narrowed as it ascended. They ran up the stairs, Alexander frantically extending his hearing, hoping to catch a warning before anyone else ambushed them.
Before the staircase grew too narrow for two to climb it astride, there was a landing with a simple wooden door. Sarah pushed it open, and cold air washe din, sending goose bumps all over Alexander’s arms. They exited into what Alexander realized had to be the Eye.
They stood in front of a great bowl, perhaps twenty feet across, filled with gemstones. They shimmered with spectral light. Floating a few feet above their heads was a stone platform, the bottom of which matched the bowl perfectly, down to the gemstone coating. On the rim of the platform, a woman with short blonde hair stood. Alexander realized it was Jenay.
“Kill me, then. But someone will notice, I promise,” Alexander heard. It was a male voice, and it sounded like it was someone close to his own age.
“We’ll deal with that, then, I suppose,” Jenay replied, her voice confirming Alexander’s suspicions of her identity. He saw brilliant white light begin to radiate from her. Without stopping to think, he drew on the cold air and shoved her with a wave of force, then leapt toward the floating platform, following with a push on himself to give him extra height.

Jenay’s gemfire resolved into a ball between her hands, and she put a foot back and started to throw it forward Devon. He flared every ounce of energy he had, drawing strength from his feet, shoving out the stone to knock Jenay off-balance, blasting emotions at her, invoking the gems studded in the platform, even commanding the cotton of her robes to twist and capture her. He dove to the side as he desperately emitted pulses of power, praying fervently to Terros that she’d somehow miss.
He felt his blessings slide across the platform, failing to stick to anything. The gemstones on the platform repelled his frantic attempts to pull out power, and the stone of the platform resolutely withstood his attempt to make it heave and roll. His attempt at wresting control of Jenay’s clothing diffused harmlessly, breaking up against the exertion of her own blessing. As he slid across the platform, he closed his eyes and waited for the diamondlight to disintegrate him.
There was a bright flash of light, a high-pitched scream, and a heavy thud. No pain, no sudden darkness, no tunnel. Devon lifted his head and looked around from his sprawl. None of his last-second attempts to stop her had worked. So why had she missed?
When his vision cleared, he saw a third figure. A man in a billowing coat stood between him and Jenay, an icily indigo aura flickering around him, like frozen flames. Jenay, who was levering herself up from her own sprawl, had hatred written all over her face.
“You interfering bastard!” she spat. “Why do you always have to stick your nose in my business?” Faster than Devon could believe, she gathered a bolt of diamondlight and hurled it at the man. Astonishingly, the huge pendant she wore was still intact; the faster a gem was forced to manifest direct power, the more likely it was to crack and shatter. Jenay must be a master gemsmith to be able to throw around manifestations like that.
The man swung both his hands forward, sky blue fire swirling around him, forming a disc of light centered on his hands that deflected the diamondlight. His shield immediately dispersed into a shimmer of sparkling lights, but he stood easily and looked like he could easily handle whatever Jenay threw at him.
“Where do you get off, accusing me of interfering?” the man demanded. “You stole my boyfriend! You kidnapped Devon! You’re committing mass sabotage and attempting mass murder!” Violet light gathered in his hands, and Devon watched, transfixed. How did this man know his name?
Quick as lightning, Jenay drew on every diamond she had, as well as all the ones she could reach on the platform. The Eye blazed into white light as she focused all the power into the single clear gem on her pendant. White fire burned in its depths, and a beam of pure, destructive light thick as a man’s arm lanced directly toward the man.
He shed the violet power he’d gathered and erected a shield in a blink. The Kosmima attack shattered the thin blue disc after a few moments, but that tiny amount of time was just enough for the man to make a more thorough protection. The white beam struck the more substantial globe of blue light and bored inwards, forcing the globe to bow in. The man braced himself, and his body began to subtly change. His Tranquilus mark shone brilliantly, visible even through his heavy coat. His hair flew backward, as if he was standing in a heavy gale, and began to shift from dark blond to silvery-white. His eyes shone with cold blue light, and his clothes began to alter, melting into a white and blue silk outfit, one that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a Zydobean tavern, except that it was a woman’s outfit. Devon couldn’t help but notice that the mans’ now-exposed stomach was lean and attractive. He jerked his head over to look at the Kosmima woman who was trying to kill him.
She was now standing, holding what looked like a tiny suni n her hands as she continued to throw huge amounts of energy at his rescuer. She too had begun to change, her clothes shifting into the white-and-silver vest, shirt, and pants Kosmima was always depicted wearing, and her short blond hair had turned dark as midnight, though the pale silver aura limning her body gave it an unearthly luster, matched by the molten silver of her eyes.
“Kosmima, darling,” the man said, his voice peculiarly overlaid by a deep, regal woman’s. “How long it has been.”
“You’re on my home land, Tranquilus,” Jenay snapped back, a pleasant baritone layered over her hate-filled words. “You should get out before you’re injured.”
Devon stared, completely flummoxed. Jenay’s voice was strident and threatening, promising grievous violence, but the man’s voice was almost jovial, like an old friend telling an even older joke.
“My disciple here appears to be defending the helpless,” the once-blond man replied, the queenly voice speaking through him sounding patient but unamused. “Why are you assisting this murder?” The coruscating energy between the two figures was still bright and violent, and the voices of Jenay and the other man were beginning to sound hoarse and exhausted, but the new voices seemed completely unaware of the deadly struggle they had interrupted.
“It’s not murder without a trial, Tranquilus,” two voices said, one hissing and triumphant, the other droll and dry. “You started this intervention, you know.”
Sky blue light swirled around the man, or goddess, or whatever he had become, and the incandescent beam was shoved backward, stray power leaking out in gobs over the bowl of the shield, flying out into the night sky. “Then shall we both withdraw?”
“Agreed.”
With a flash, both figures blazed, then all the light on the platform went out, leaving only the meager shining of the stars. Devon continued to stare, thoughts completely stilled in shock.
Jenay stood there, frozen, hand still extended. The blond man was similarly still, hands raised in a defensive gesture. Devon thought wildly that he should do something, but his only thought was to shove Jenay off the platform, and the thought of murder just froze him up again.
Suddenly, both of them sprang to life. Jenay hurled a hasty blast, which the man again deflected. This time, the white gout of light rebounded directly back at Jenay. It swirled around her, taking on an amber-gold hue. She opened her mouth in a silent scream and vanished, leaving nothing.


Alexander stared, bewildered and stunned. He’d barely managed to erect a shield before Jenay’s hugely powerful diamondlight had turned him into ash. It shouldn’t have been nearly strong enough to rebound an attack like that. And something seemed off about the fight; the sequence of events didn’t add up. He didn’t know why, but something felt very odd.
“Alexander!”
He turned toward the voice. Who was it? His mind felt slow, like each thought was climbing through gelatin.
“Sarah!”
Alexander turned slowly. A young man was lying on the stone floor. They were in the Eye of the Needle, the Terros temple. Why was he here?
“Sarah, can you hear me?” the young man cried. He was sprawled on the ground, and didn’t seem to be able to get up. He crawled toward the edge of the platform.
Maybe I should keep him from falling, Alexander thought. A few seconds later, like a jolt of adrenaline, he realized that Devon might fall.
Devon? Who is Devon? He shook his head, exhaling forcefully, and moved to kneel next to Devon. The young man. Sarah’s brother.
“Devon, is that you?” Sarah cried, her voice heartbreakingly relieved. A rush of recognition flooded Alexander as he put his hands on Devon’s shoulders, keeping him stable.
He didn’t seem to be mind, using Alexander’s support to force himself up to his knees. “Sarah, I’m all right! Are you okay? What are you doing here?”
Everything was coming back to him. Sarah’s impassioned requests, Andrea’s surprising talents at skulkery and sneaking, their harrowing climb up the Needle and the chase –
Andrea!
“Sarah, what happened to Andrea?” Alexander called, his first words since confronting Jenay. His voice rasped and hurt. “Are you alone?”
He forced himself to look over the edge, clutching to Devon as much as Devon was holding onto him. His right hand slipped down from Devon’s shoulder to settle around his waist, and the smaller man leaned into him. The closer they got to each other, the stronger and more lucid Alexander felt.
Sarah was still standing in front of the doors to the main temple, which were still open wide. Her face lit up when she saw the two of them peering over the edge of the platform.
“She hasn’t come up yet. I think she might be in trouble,” Sarah called, though her joyous expression didn’t match her grave words. “Why don’t you two come down so we can go help her?”
Alexander thought that was an excellent idea. He looked at Devon, who was shivering and pressing himself close to Alexander. His blue eyes had the tell-tale sheen and rapid twitching of a rubydazzle. Jenay must have hit him with it before Alexander’s intervention. He probably haddn’t been in great shape to begin with, but rubydazzling was a compounding effect, getting worse with each affliction.
Alexander wrapped his arms securely around Devon, who hummed and squeezed even closer. Alexander couldn’t help but smile. He slowly stood, murmuring softly to keep Devon calm, before drawing energy from the cold air. He wrapped them in a layer of Algidus, and stepped forward off the platform. Fear sent his heart into his throat, and Devon made a terrifyingly small squeak, but his blessing slowed the ten-foot drop and they landed easily. When he released the force, heat billowed away from him, reacting to the energy he’d spent.
“Devon, are you all right?” Sarah asked, rushing over to take Devon. He happily transferred his grip to his sister, and started talking. His voice was slurred, and his words came out a little hard to understand, but he seemed lucid.
“Sarah, how did get here you?” he asked, patting her worriedly. Alexander felt a wave of calm lassitude abruptly swamp him. When Devon’s frantic motions slowed, he realized that the odd waves of emotion and sensation were coming from Sarah. She must be quite an accomplished Panida, he thought, impressed as Andrea had been.
His eyes widened, and the stupor crashed. “Andrea!” he blurted. “We have to help her!”
Sarah nodded. She slid her arm around devon, but though she was a little taller than him, she was slight and buckled slightly under his weight. When Alexander moved to help, she shook her head.
“You’re better in a fight than me,” she said. “I can handle this.”
Alexander met her eyes, then started into the Temple. They hurried through the doors and started down the narrow steps. What had been barely wide enough for two to climb was nearly unmanageable for two plus an unstable third, and their progress was slow, but Alexander refused to abandon the siblings. After a few agonizing minutes, they heard a heavy impact, and light flooded the stairwell as the doors at the base burst open.
“Go!” Sarah urged him. “We’ll be fine!”
Alexander looked at them, then took off. The last four steps vanished under his long legs, and he was quickly in the hall where they’d left Andrea.
He paused, shocked. Three bodies lay on the floor before him, unconscious. There was a large man dressed in the same Kosmima garb as the casualties, standing with his back to Alexander and holding a swirling ball of gemfire in his hands.
“I don’t care if you’re the Queen of Larne, this is sacred ground and you will not trespass onto the Eye!” the man bellowed. “One more step and I’ll lay you out, don’t think I won’t!”
Alexander moved silently to the right, and saw Andrea standing about ten feet in front of the man. Her hair was in disarray, her clothes had burn marks, and her staff was at least a foot shorter, with a jagged, pointy end where it must have been shattered. Her sleeves were rolled back, revealing bracelets set with two emeralds and two opals each. Alexander guessed they were defensive, and wondered how much Kosmima power Andrea had access to.
She hefted her staff, sliding it across her shoulders. She draped her wrists over it, letting her fingers dangle, though she pressed her thumb and ring finger together on both hands.
“I am lawfully in pursuit of Jenay Deen, wanted for attempted murder, attempted sabotage, kidnapping, and just being a giant bitch,” she said. “Even if there were three of you–” she tapped her thumb and finger together several times. “–you wouldn’t have the authority to stop me.” She flicked her fingers together, and her expression became distinctly frustrated.
With a start, Alexander realized what she wanted. He sucked in power, and sent three bursts of it into the hallway. In a blur, Andrea vanished, and suddenly there were four of her, equally spaced before the Kosmima guard.
He reacted remarkably quickly, hurling his gemfire at one of the illusions. Alexander expended a little more power, and the image burst into flames and fell to the ground. Andrea provided a scream, and the three remaining copies, one the real thing and the other two bound to mimic her actions, darted forward.
Alexander barely had time to note she wasn’t using her enhanced speed before the man roared and bursts of white light began erupting all around the hallway. Alexander instantly put up a paper thin shield, just enough to warn him if one of the explosions was going to hit him, and gestured for Andrea to come to him. She changed course, running around the giant man. One of her copies tried to run through him, and dissolved into sky blue sparkles. The man jumped, and the white bursts of light faltered, giving Andrea enough time to slide next to Alexander, crashing through his thin shield with only a brief snag. Once she was close enough, he emitted a pulse of Tranquilus, making a dome of translucent blue that was much stronger.
The man whirled to face them, his face dark with rage. He lifted his right hand, adorned with a large ruby ring , and made a peculiar gesture with his left hand.
“Alexander!”
All their heads turned to see Sarah and Devon staggering into the hall. Alexander looked back at the huge man, and saw the decision in the rage-darkened eyes.
Alexander dropped his shield and pelted toward Sarah as fast as he could, while the man swung his body around to aim the ring at her. Her eyes grew wide, and her mouth opened in a silent scream. Scarlet light burst to life around her, and she shoved Devon toward Alexander.
He wasn’t moving fast enough. He didn’t dare turn his head, but he knew the man had unleashed a rubydazzle, powered by a Kosmima adept, standing in the heart of the Terros Needle. He took a deep breath, and pulled as hard as he could on all the Tranquilus energy he could reach, letting it explode out of his pores, not bothering to shape it.
He crashed into Devon just before the world went scarlet.

Devon opened his eyes. He was in a white room, in a bed. He couldn’t move; every time he tried, exhaustion washed through him, dragging on his eyelids. He instinctively reached out to the earth, and a welcome current of strength filtered into him, though it was weak and diluted by his lack of contact with and distance from the ground.
Abruptly, he realized he was not alone in the bed. He turned his head, and saw only a head covered in long, shaggy, dark blond hair, and a silver of neck. The rest was swathed in thick blankets.
They weren’t sharing blankets, he noticed, and a quick check made him pretty sure he hadn’t shared anything else. He tried to think of why he was in a strange bed with a strange man, and came up with a blank. The last thing he remembered was coming home after a run-heavy day and a quick drink in Sarah’s bar. While he had certainly woken up with strange men before, he usually remembered the sequence of events beforehand.
A door opened, and Devon tried to sit up, but even with the current of power he was drawing he could barely prop up on his elbows. He saw that Sarah was sitting in a chair, asleep, and there was another woman next to her, short with blonde hair. She perked up as a man with dark hair and a green tunic came into the room.
“Devon, I see you’re awake,” the man said, nodding to the blonde woman. “How do you feel?”
“Mostly I’m…” he started, before a violent coughing fit seized him. He lifted a hand to his mouth, but his other arm buckled and he collapsed, sprawling on top of the man next to him.
As soon as their bodies touched, his coughing eased. He struggled to keep his weight off the man, but the green-clad man had moved around the bed and grabbed his wrist, pressing his palm against the man’s very warm neck.
“You win, Andrea,” he commented. “Proximity does ease the symptoms.”
“I saw them get injured, Duane,” the blonde woman said scornfully. “I may not be a Kosmima adept, but I recognize a life force curse when I see one. Nasty mix, Kosmima and Panida.”
“Can someone please explain what’s going on?” Devon asked plaintively.
The green-clad man, Duane, smiled encouragingly at him. “When you were escaping the Terros Needle, you were stopped by a Kosmima enforcer–”
“Oaf of a man, throwing around power he doesn’t understand,” Andrea, the blonde woman, said scathingly, not even bothering to lower her voice.
“–doing his duty as he saw fit,” Duane continued calmly. “It certainly looked like the Needle was under attack, and there are protocols to be followed in such an event. You were caught in the crossfire, and a very nasty combination of Terros blessings has bound your life force to Mr. Cartwright’s, here.” He gestured at the blond man, whose neck Devon was still touching.
“My…what? Life force? Do you mean our blessings?” Devon asked.
“That’s part of it, certainly,” Duane answered. “I certainly can’t say this is my specialty, since I’m a physician and not a blessing healer, but from what I’ve read and what Andrea has told me, there’s actually a curse attached to each of your auras. Somehow, when you combine auras the curses are less malignant.” He shook his head. “No one in Zydobe is an expert on this sort of thing. Panida curses aren’t practiced much anymore, and because of the situation in Port Nanfula, it’s very difficult to get any sort of communication through to High Temple of Terros in Larne.”
“Wait, we’re not in Port Nanfula?” Devon asked, his voice squeaking with panic. “What am I doing in Zydobe?”
“You disappeared,” Sarah said, her voice sleepy. Devon turned to look at her, and saw how tired and wan she looked. “You went on a run to deliver messages to several government officials, and you disappeared. Three days later, a pirate fleet from the Felda Archipelago besieged our harbor. The navy wasn’t warned at all, and the city’s still under attack now. The pirates are incredibly well-armed and organized, and rumor is that the government has been overthrown from the inside.” She looked at him, an old weariness that he recognized in her eyes. “I barely had warning before the transit stations were all shut down completely. I asked a friend to scry for you, and she told me you’d be in Zydobe. So I put Amber in charge of the inn, got the last transit over here, and I’ve been looking for you ever since.”
Devon tried to reach out to Sarah, but even pulling away from Alexander that far sent him into a coughing fit. He flopped down into the bed, burrowing as close to the other man’s sleeping form as he could while keeping blankets between them.
“So since Port Nanfula is the main link between Aranda and Daentse, communication between the continents must be completely wrecked,” he said, once he got the coughing under control.
“That’s about right,” Andrea said. “And until Port Nanfula fights off this siege, it’s only going to get worse. Zydobe is talking about sending support troops to help, and I’ve heard that similar talks are going on in Aethros and Wentra.”
“More importantly,” Duane said, cutting off Andrea, who sounded like she was winding up for a political rant. “We need to get you two into better shape. I don’t think you know each other well to spend the rest of your lives in each others’ arms.”
Devon couldn’t stop the deep blush that spread over his face, and Sarah’s sudden attack of giggles didn’t help. “Do you know how long that will take?” he asked.
Duane shrugged. “It depends on when we can get correspondence from Larne, and how strong the original curse was. For now, we think we have halted its growth, so at least it isn’t getting worse.”
“We just have to focus on getting you recovered. We don’t even know what you went through between vanishing in Port Nanfula and us rescuing you here,” Sarah said. “So you just try and rest and help the physicians and healers.”
Devon settled back in the bed, making sure to stay close to Alexander, and tried not to think of his home being destroyed in a land-sea battle.

On an island far out to sea…

Most storms on the open ocean migrated directly toward the First Storm and were sucked into it. Occasionally, one would be spat out and rampage across the surface of the sea until it hit land and could vent its rage on forests, or plains, or cities.
This storm was somewhat different. It remained stationary, hovering malevolently above a solitary island. As it built speed and rotation, incandescent white light flared in its center. Like lightning, this light was accompanied by enormous roars as the air protested being rent by the intense power, but unlike lightning, the light did not flash and fade. Instead, it built in strength, seeming almost as if it was powered by the storm. The clouds deepened into angry blacks and ugly greens, swirling violently around the now-constant glare of energy in the center of the maelstrom.
With a final shriek of protest, the storm burst into dazzling, eye-burning light and a column of pure energy blasted down into the center of the island. There was an enormous explosion of pure force, and a dome of scintillating white power rolled out from the epicenter of the reaction. From hundreds of miles away, the night was filled with light, and sailors prayed fervently that their ships be spared from what must surely be the wrath of Ventus.
On this solitary island, the landscape was surprisingly unaffected by the outpouring of power. The storm, its fury spent, was quickly breaking down into innocent-looking clouds. The moon and stars showed their faces, no longer cowed by the incredible fury.
On the island’s beach, far enough in that the ocean couldn’t reach, a figure lay. Shards of topaz and agate lay on the ground around her, and her fine blonde hair was cut very short. Her clothing was reduced to charred rags, and her eyes stared up at the sky, filled with the promise of revenge.