Their trek back to the Spectres was the opposite of their walk away. Where Mhell had been cheerful and upbeat the first time, now she was quite subdued and quiet. The energetic aura of playfulness had turned into a fetid cloud of murky thoughts. Riven wasn’t sure what to think. Deathless turned back to humans, but after they died, and in the Beyond to boot. What was the point in that? All that told him was that anyone who turned into a Deathless was royally fucked.

But that also meant he Deathless Riven had killed, the ones he’d seen Viriya ad Rio kill as well, had all turned back to people. And people weren’t built to handle war. Not on their own.

Though that brought up the question—what in the Chasm happened when someone died in the Beyond. Could anyone die there?

“You’ve been very quiet, Riven dear,” Mhell said. Her voice was a little strained, as though she was trying to distract herself from something by making idle chit chat with Riven.

“I’m just thinking,” he replied.

“About what the Infernal said?”

“Yes.” He was quiet for a few seconds, contemplating. “If you died, you’d become human again. Would you want that, Mhell?”

“Hmm. It’s something I’ve been pondering as well. See, I remember my days as a living woman quite well. I know what I did, who I was, how strong of an Essentier I used to be.”

“Exactly. I’m wondering if you’re human again, will you be able to use your Essence in the Beyond? The one you used to use as an Essentier?”

“I should hope so. I’ve been meaning to make some inquiries about the Beyond too, but as you can see, we’ve had our hands full with the Orbray business. Not to mention, my subordinates can be quite demanding sometimes.”

Even as she said it, they reached the space that had been allocated for the Spectres. Several came forward to greet Mhell, some even muttering greetings to him as though simple association with their leader made him important or something. So foolish. He was only here to find a cure for Mother, to free Rose from Orbray’s clutches, and maybe find Father in the process.

“I need to get back to them,” Riven said. “They’re still waiting for my return and report.”

“I see. And what will you tell them?”

“Everything, mostly.” Riven felt that familiar urge to hide things again, and he didn’t fight it. Aross and Daynom did not need to know everything. “I’m not sure. I’ll see what I feel about telling them anything at all, to be honest.”

“Have you been trying to pay both sides, Riven?” Mhell asked with a little mirk.

He ignored it. “I’ve just been picking through options. Whatever looks the best at the time is what I need to do.”

“Need to do for?”

“Freeing my sister.” Riven cleared his throat. “Which reminds me, I need to leave soon. The longer I keep them waiting, the greater the chance that Orbray will end up killing Rose.”

“Then promise me one thing, Riven dear.”

“What’s that?”

“That rescuing your sister will be your biggest priority. That no matter what happens or what you might learn, you will not stray from your goal of freeing Rosiene. Can you promise me that?”

Riven was a little taken aback at that. The concern in her voice was real. Genuine. Why did she care so much about Rose?

“It’s my sister,” Riven said. “Of course she’s my priority. Why in the world do you think I’m going along with people who are supposed to be my enemy?”

Mhell smiled at him. “I knew you would say something of the sort. I’m glad.”

“Why?”

“Oh, nothing really. Just restoring my faith in humanity.”

That seemed the strangest reasoning ever. But it assured him that Mhell wasn’t like other Deathless. She cared. She felt, beyond just that all-consuming need to ascend to the Beyond.

As a person, Mhell was no different from any of the living.

Riven followed Mhell for a while, waiting for the army of demons to dwindle enough for him to slip away without notice. Soon. Whatever he intended to tell Aross and Daynom about the meeting, there was a lot Riven needed to ponder. First, he needed to get the chasm away from here though. He kept looking around, and now that he was no longer smongst the Fiends, he could see farther. There were too many Spectres in Mhell’s retinue, but he could spot the end of their line without too much difficulty.

One of the Spectres ran in, jerking to a halt just before he collided Mhell, making both her and Riven stop. The scared look on the ghost’s face wasn’t promising. “Mistress! They’re coming!”

Mhell frowned. “Who?”

“The enemy. They’re almost here!”

Riven stared at the Spectre. The enemy? The only enemy they had was Orbray, and he couldn’t be here, right? Daynom had only just ordered a messenger to go and inform the High Invigilator about the demon and ghost armies approaching the centre of Ascension Demesne. There was no way he could have sent an army in response this quickly.

Unless it was some kind of insane Essence. But just the thought of doing something like that sounded insane.

“Take me to where you saw them!” Mhell ordered. For the first time since Riven had seen her, she was starting to look a little frightened.

The Spectre shook her head. “No, mistress. They’re already here! We need to prepare to defend ourselves.”

Shit. Already here? Damn it, that bastard Daynom must have lied about it. A stupid act to fool even stupider Riven. Now he was caught with the Deathless and was about to be attacked, forcing him to fight back against whatever force Orbray had sent and making it seem as though he had shifted his allegiance. They’d have free rein to kill him then. Fuck.

“Mhell, it’s a ploy,” he said quickly.

She stared at him. “What do you mean?”

No dears this time. Mhell was truly stressed. “They want to catch me red-handed with you, with the demons,” Riven said. “Accuse me of helping the enemy and then kill me.”

“I don’t have time for this. Stay close, and we’ll deal with this together.”

“Wait, I—”

But Mhell was already rushing off. She ordered one of her Spectres to warn the demons, directing most of the others to prepare themselves for attack. None of it was in time.

The soldiers of Ascension Demesne attacked.

Mhell’s first line of Spectres fell back under a barrage of Sept bullets. It seemed the soldiers were taking no chances or prisoners. There were far more Deathless to deal with though. Even as the first line of ghosts fell away, more Spectres rushed forward. The soldiers had to reload their firearms and the ghosts took that opportunity to rush in.

Their assault was vicious. Even standing this far out, Riven was drawn back to that time he had been in the press of Deathless. That moment he and Viriya had fought through a mass of Spectres with the help of the military at Welmark. All that screaming, all the agony wafting through the air and the death claiming everyone one by one. And Riven had been unable to do a single thing to stop it. He’d been too busy trying to fight the Deadmage there, too concerned with saving his siblings and nothing else, just as he was now.

No, he could do something now. He had the power. He was an Essentier, one who would have been considered a Secondmarked if he had accepted treacherous Aross’s proposal of promotion.

Riven needed to act.

“Stay close” Mhell reminded him as he took his first step forward. She went with him.

“You don’t have to follow me,” Riven said. “You’re right, I shouldn’t be selfish. I need to stop them.”

“No need to endanger yourself just yet.”

“I’m perfectly capable of handling myself.”

“But you’re not strategically capable.”

Riven paused to stare at her. Mhell had paused too, calling in a handful of Spectres to her. She sent out a rapid staccato of messages, and moments later, the masses of Spectres began shifting around. Riven blinked. The ghosts were moving in formation, acting almost like a military unit. No not military, more like guerrilla forces. Or security forces maybe. They broke into little groups and rapidly covered ground as they searched out their targets. How had Mhell trained them to act like that?

It was effective too. The soldiers had pushed through the press of Spectres that Mhell had sent in as a follow up to her dead front line. But now they were falling back. The Spectres attacked int tiny masses, drawing their fire to single, focused points. This allowed the ones immediately behind them to spread out and charge in, attacking the soldiers without having to suffer through a storm of bullets along the way.

Though now that Riven thought on it, why did no one ever think to train Spectres on how to use weapons? Maybe it was their fickle memories. They grew fickle when one turned into a Deathless, and Riven could sympathize with Mhell’s difficulty in just making them organized enough to act in that manner.

The army from Ascension was being pushed back when the Spectres started floating up.

Light blue Essence flickered in the air around the floating ghosts. Riven’s eyes widened. He knew this, had seen this before and had experienced first-hand how dangerous this Essence was.

“I know this Essentier,” Riven said. “The Arnish are here.”

“What?”

Riven pointed as they climbed a little rise, getting some height from which they could survey the battle better. It was insane, just as he had thought. Ranks of black-and-red soldiers stood at the ready over a hundred yards away from the main fighting force that had engaged the Deathless, the tension in all their shoulders evident even at this distance. They knew they’d have to move in soon. Beyond them, several more soldiers in different, white-and-gold uniforms waited on horseback. Orbray had sent his own army beforehand but had also sent the Arnish to complement his forces.

Too many had come in and attacked them. And too many waited even further beyond. They were doomed.

“We need to retreat,” Riven said. “You can’t possibly face down that many, even if you’re all Deathless.”

“You underestimate us. Underestimate me.”

Riven looked over at Mhell’s strategy dissolving before their very eyes. More Spectres flew up as the blue Essence flickered everywhere, unchecked now that the Essentier had been ascertained there was no one coming in to stop it. Ascension soldiers were shooting the defenceless Spectres in the air until they crumbled back down as the Essence faded and the ghosts broke into golden dust that died before it hit the ground.

“There’s your choice,” Riven said. “Do you want to fight on, or do you want to retreat before we’re destroyed?”

Mhell gave a little tinkling laughter, though it sounded somewhat forced to Riven’s ears. “Silly boy. We’re not going to have to surrender. We have the demons, after all.”

Oh that was right. Damn. Riven had been a frightened idiot to forget that they had yet another army, a larger and even more ferocious one at that too, just as their enemy did.

Even as Mhell’s words dropped from her mouth, the demons wheeled in. Unlike with Mhell and her Spectres, there was no rhyme or reason to the charge of the Fiends. Each of them raced to get ahead of the others, claws gleaming, points of spikes glinting, fangs bared as though they meant to chomp their enemies to tiny bits. They crashed into the mass of soldiers like a landslide into ramshackle houses, the blue Essence that was flickering everywhere dying for a moment.

Then it went up with a vengeance, demons flying left and right. Still they went on, charging with the noise and fury of cyclone.

Far off, the rest of the soldiers began advancing. The Arnish lined them on either side, swords bared and guns pointed forward, their speed increasing with every thumping heartbeat. Riven shouted at the demons but it was doubtful his voice was heard over the din of screaming soldiers and shrieking Fiends.

“Essentiers,” Mhell said all of a sudden, then rushed down the little rise and straight towards the battle.

“What?” Riven asked.

There was no response. Shit. Riven hesitated for only a moment before he thundered after Mhell. She was heading right into the thick of the battle. Did she have a death wish?

Then he stopped. What Mhell had said before hurrying off became too clear.

Essentiers.

A bullet shot through the press. Powerful purple Essence powered it forward, shooting faster and faster as it rammed blazing holes into the demons. The Fiends shrieked even louder and fell back as the bullet left them with gaping wounds that could be seen through before colliding with the ground and exploding in a gout of dirt and purple Essence. Riven swallowed. He’d seen that Essence before in Rennervation city. One of the Essentiers in the warehouse he’d invaded had the same Essence. Scions, he should have killed the man then and there.

Mhell moved into the gap left by the retreating demons. Sure, she might be a Deadmage now and thus much more powerful than before, but Riven couldn’t keep down the stab of worry. Worry. He almost laughed. They’d brand him with nearly-molten pokers if they learned he was sympathizing with a Deathless enough to worry about them.

“Mhell be careful,” he said anyway.

She didn’t look back, focused entirely on the battle ahead of her. But a cloud of grey Spirit washed out around her, turning the air crisp and mouldy. Rotten. Corrosion, that was her Spirit. Her Spirit was corroding the very air.

Riven approached her carefully. Stick together she had said. It would show him as the Deathless sympathizer he was, a traitor to his own kind apparently, but what did it matter? They’d kill him anyway no matter where he hid or what excuse he gave.

Another Essentier popped out of the mass of scuffling demons and soldiers, this one wearing a different uniform to the navy of Ascension Essentiers Riven was used to. Hers was deep red, like blood turned into a jacket and trousers. A trap. Shit.

A teal-coloured orb blasted out of the woman, the Essence like Riven’s sphere. He drew out his own Essence to form a shield around him, the pressure rising up and out of him like a fountain. Just in time. The teal Essence overtook his own larger sphere and spread out far and wide into an enormous dome, it’s ceiling so high even a gunshot wouldn’t have reached it.

Riven caught sight of the sparkle on the woman’s shoulder. Great. Another Firstmarked.

“I’ve got her, Melott,” she said, staring at Mhell and ignoring Riven.

The other Essentier with the purple Essen flickering in his gun’s barrel—Melott—nodded, taking a step back. “All yours.”

The Firstmarked grinned, but before she could do anything to attack the Deadmage, several demons broke away from the back of the press and charged at the new Essentier. The world shifted. Riven blinked, unsure of what he saw. The Fiends that had been rushing forward all switched places with each other, and having  switched spots, their trajectories took them past the Essentier, harmlessly by her sides.

With a smile, the Firstmarked pulled out her Coral sabre and swung. Damn but she was fast. She sliced this way and that, the blade nearly invisible as it blurred between the bodies. A few of the demons turned to attack after most of their companions had fallen into piles of dead and fading Sept. She took care of those with no more difficulty than the ones who’d shot past her and been too slow to turn.

In seconds, the Firstmarked stood alone.

Riven swallowed. The Chasm had she done with her Essence to make them all switch places like that? They had simply… existed in one spot at one moment, then turned up in another a second later.

Mhell wasn’t scared or daunted. She walked forward, raising her arms as her grey Spirit swirled about her. Then she threw them forward.

The Firstmarked and Mhell switched places. Just as with the demons a second ago, Mhell was now leaning forward as though she had intended to throw her cloud of Sprit at the mass of battling soldiers and Deathless. Meanwhile, the Firstmarked looked as though she had waded through Mhell inflicting her Spirit with nary a scratch.

Switching. That had to be what the woman’s Essence was. Riven couldn’t even begin to fathom how it worked, but he suspected it had something to do with the Essence sphere that had charged past him and overtaken everyone.

“Impressive,” Mhell said.

The Firstmarked grinned. “Well, I am a Firstmarked.”

“And what might be your name? So I can commit you to memory before I kill you.”

The Firstmarked’s blue eyes flashed. “Elmindra. Remember it. It’s the last thing you’re going to learn before your death.”

Mhell smiled. More Spirit swirled around her, spinning in a tornado of corrosion that turned the whole area fetid and rotten. Riven needed to get out of here, but he was mesmerized, watching the two women fight it out. The other Essentier, this Melott, was also enraptured by the fight. Or maybe he was simply enraptured by this Firstmarked.

Elmindra brought out a fistful of Sept bullets and threw them at Mhell. The grey Spirit charged forwards in a tidal wave of corrosion that ate up the ground it passed. It did the same to the bullets, their Sept fading to death in rapid moments and falling to the ground.

Then the Firstmarked grinned. A breath later, Mhell and a few of the bullets had exchanged places.

Close. Too close. Her Spirit came in and struck her, though there didn’t seem to be any effect on her. No, what she was too close to was the perpetrator of the mess.

Elmindra.

The Firstmarked stabbed her sabre into Mhell’s guts. Riven was ready though. He called upon his Essence shield, willing one to form around the witch’s body. Golden lines few from his body and pinged on Mhell. Riven focused harder. A sharp intake of breath followed from everyone—even Riven—as they all surveyed his handiwork. Riven had recreated his golden armour around Mhell. She had survived.

Elmindra jumped back. Just in time. Mhell’s grey Spirit whirled with the madness of one who insists they’re never going to be constrained again. Elmindra danced around, doing her best to ignore the fact that Mhell was creating more grey Spirit to hurl at the Firstmarked.

A purple bullet hammered into the armour Riven had woven about himself. His shield somehow stopped it from bursting through and skewering him just as those demons had been. The impact was still immense though. He was thrown back, colliding with the ground and rolling until he was back on his feet.

Scions, he’d been a spectator for long enough. He needed to fight. Soon as that damn Essentier stopped throwing Riven back with his purple Essence.

The next shot took Riven on the shoulder. His shield protected him from any severe damage, but he had no idea how to prevent himself from ending up on the ground again. It didn’t help that by the time he was back up, the Essentier had reloaded his gun, ready to fire again.

Which he proceeded to do. Riven was ready this time, though. He focused, his golden lines bursting out of him as though he was a cornucopia of Essence. They formed into shields in front of him, layer after layer to create a series of glassy, auric walls.

The bullet struck and tore through many, cracking and shattering them as they faded in mid-air. But they stopped the bullet from reaching Riven himself, Perfect. That was all he needed. Riven focused again, jumping onto a series of horizontal golden plate in the air. Melott fired again, but Riven was moving too fast and the purple-Essence-powered bullets missed him. Scions knew he’d had a lot of practice jumping between golden shields.

At some point, Riven’s airborne rush took him over the Essentier, and he pulled out his own gun. He fired even as his enemy got another shot away. They both missed.

But now that they were both armed, neither could stand still. Riven focused and created more golden plates as he kept on leaping between them. No stopping now. Not when he was making the bastard run too.

Riven stopped his jumping to aim properly and fire another shot. This one was well off the mark, but that was fine. The bullet hit the ground a dozen yards from Melott, who was still rushing blindly forward. He didn’t even look back when he pointed his gun backwards and took a pot shot at Riven. The purple Essence-infused bullet missed Riven by several yards.

He smiled. Fool was running right into a trap. Riven kept up the chase, shooting near the Essentier’s feet.

All of a sudden, Melott was close enough. Perfect. Riven focused, drawing the Essence onto himself then blasting it out as far, as fast, and with as much force as he could, all of it aimed at the bullet he’d shot well ahead of Melott. It worked. The Essence caught on the still-glowing bullet, and with a moment’s focus, Riven created a shield around it. Then he expanded it outwards, as fast as the very bullets he was shooting.

Melott never saw it coming. Riven’s Essence shield snapped outwards and slapped Melott back. The Essentier flew and landed on his arse, trying to rise and claim some sort of dignity even as he cursed.

Too late. Riven shot him. The bullet took him in the shoulder, missing his head by a few fingerbreadths. Drats. Melott got up, firing away his own bullet. Riven was done with running though. He focused again, forming a giant concentric ring of spheres around himself to stop the purple bullets. They worked to an extent, though they all cracked and fell apart one by one.

Riven wasn’t done. He focused again it was insane to think he could focus on more than one spot at a time, especially as he had his armour, the layer of spherical shields, and the golden plate of pressurized air keeping him aloft, but his Essence obeyed. A golden shield shimmered into existence around his enemy’s head.

Melott dropped the gun. He beat on the little shield covering his head, and Riven silently thanked the Scions that the panic of having his breath cut off made Melott forget he could have used his Essence to free himself somehow.

But Riven wasn’t one to wait. He focused, sending his Essence to the ground beneath him. Even as Melott struggled and ran around, his cries muffled by the shield around his head, Riven’s Essence sank into the ground. A second, later the earth erupted in a crown of spikes that shimmered gold, all of which embedded themselves into Melott’s chest. He stopped running around.

Riven waited on his perch above ground. It was a great vantage point to be sure. Letting the Essentier beneath him die, Riven surveyed the carnage of the battlefield. He swallowed. What had happened?

The battle had erupted into one enormous melee and had somehow spread out all over. Dust covered everything and floated everywhere, hiding away much of the world in gloom. Where was Mhell? And the Arnish? Panic was slowly creeping its head out of the deep well Riven had stuffed it into. He could make neither head nor tail of what had gone on or how the battlefield had turned into this mess.

Too low. The ground was only a couple yards away. Riven was trying to see everything while he was still too close to the worm’s eye view. He needed to get higher up. Much higher.

Focusing, Riven drew up more shields and climbed. It was tiring work. Every jump and step he took higher seemed to make him heavier, making it appear as though he was gaining weight the higher he went. But the view was getting clearer too. Far beneath him, Melott had slumped against the rock spikes jutting bloodily from his body. Dead. One more kill for Riven Morell.

He did his best to ignore it. This was war after all. Instead, Riven surveyed the battlefield from a height most would have killed to enjoy.

A rout. Somehow, that fierce battle between the Deathless and Ascension soldiers had turned into a rout. The troops Orbray had sent were running for their lives, all of them pursued by Fiends on the ground and in the air. Even as Riven watched the last of the soldiers ran off, the lucky in cars and trucks while the demons tore through the unlucky ones on foot. The Spectres were dispersing too, their jagged outlines spiking out of the dusty gloom. Riven saw nothing of Mhell from this high up, but something told him she hadn’t waited for him either.

But he did see something curious. Ice. Patches of ice covered the whole area, glinting where the sunlight caught it. That was what had turned the tide of battle far too quickly, and it frightened Riven to think on what could have caused it. He froze, a stray wind trying to topple him from his perch so high up.

It had to have been that Infernal. Wramorrh. She must have shown her hand.

Riven sighed. It was time to get going. Though where he’d go, and how, was something he’d need to figure out soon.