“How are you?” the Crown Princess asked. “You told me about it, but seeing it… I’ve never been on a battlefield, but I think that’s what they see in the infirmaries. Sometimes.”

“It’s horrible. Being resurrected… and suffering adjustment. It’s worse,” Jonas replied. A single look at the team’s descriptor confirmed to him that all of the team was under Lingering Death.

“It was like something pouring molten iron in your insides. With every bone mauled at the same time. And while your skin is being removed.”

He spat on the side and tried to stand.

“And you can’t even think. You should know it will pass… but there’s no thought, no idea of who you are, where you are. Just the pain. Pastors talk about the torments of Hell, but they do not know what they’re talking about.”

Jonas spat again, and added, “The only good thing is that it ends. I don’t know if it was worse than the previous time. I don’t want to think about it.”

He raised his gaze to the Gate and said, “So… it’s open.”

“How do you know? Oh, right. It’s back to normal, no more descriptor.”

Jonas frowned, then realized the truth.

 

 

“I can still see it.”

Charlotte’s eyes bulged. She told herself she should get used to it, but those six were going to throw surprises at her every time.

“What?”

“It’s just saying that it’s active. Nothing else. Full integrity and stability at one hundred.”

She breathed slowly, settling back from the surprise. Then, as an afterthought confirmed, “Yes, there’s been Professionals already back and forth. It will probably take a day or two to bring everything back to normal. But the way is open.”

Jonas pushed himself upward and went to see the rest. Ira was shaking himself as if trying to see if every part of him was still attached.

“So we did it.”

“We did, Ira.”

“You know… we should probably have done that days ago.”

Jonas laughed a bit.

“Not if I could avoid it. Besides, I’m not so sure the crystals didn’t help.”

Alton came, half supporting Jonathan. Jonas gestured toward the Gate.

“London awaits. So let’s go.”

 

They found the Gate area crowded. Soldiers milling around, dozens of Professionals talking. The Princess came just behind them, drawing looks. A group of non-Professionals immediately rushed toward her. She raised her hands in a waiting gesture and then turned toward the team.

“I think we’re all anxious to see what happened. I assume you have places to go, people to see now. But… tonight, come to St. James.”

“St. James? The Royal Palace?”

She gestured across the Gardens toward the edge behind the Queen’s House where you could see part of the palace in the distance.

“Yes. I must introduce you to his Majesty, my grandfather. After all, you saved the Kingdom.”

“What?” Alton exclaimed.

“Yes. All of you.”

She looked at Laura.

“Although you might need to change before you go around. Some Professional attire is a bit outré, even in modern London. Do you need anything? I can arrange…”

Laura’s clothing flickered. A plain robe, a plain leather jacket over it. And her hammers had vanished into her Puppet storage.

“I am good for now. I think.”

Charlotte smiled slightly, then reminded them, “Tonight. St. James.”

“But… we’ve got nothing to wear,” Jonas said.

“Don’t worry. There’s plenty of attendants, and they’ll find something for you before I’m even allowed to greet you again.”

Then she turned and walked toward the group that had been waiting, giving a brief shake of her head in acknowledgement. Jonas noticed that her red leather outfit had been replaced by a simpler elegant robe and elaborate lace jacket.

He hesitated, but Alton took the initiative, slapping his hand on Jonathan’s shoulder.

“Come on, friend. I’m sure they won’t miss us. And she’ll want to hear from you.”

Guss looked and then said “I’m guessing the letter I wrote hasn’t even arrived. I should be…” he trailed.

“Get going,” Jonas said.

Laura turned to him and said, “See you tonight then. Never imagined I’d get presented to the King.”

Jonas looked at Ira and shrugged, interrogative. His friend replied, “I think I should take my leave from the Morvells’. Officially. And grab whatever. You?”

“I’ll come with you. I have time. I think.”

---

 

The boy dragging the cloth bolt looked askance at her.

“What do you want, miss… Lord! Laura? Is that you?”

She smiled. “Always slow, Byrne. Come, let me help you a bit.”

She grabbed the heavy bolt, putting it on her shoulder in a single smooth movement.

“Where do you need that?”

Byrne’s eyes bulged. “What? How do you…”

“I’ve changed a bit.”

A yell came from further inside “Lord! It’s Laura! She’s Alive! Come! She’s There!”

The dozens of girls managing the powered looms ran out from the depth of the cloth factory, surrounding Laura. Alerted by the commotion, Mr Manning, the owner came out and stopped when he saw her.

“Miss Harvey? You are there? What happened to you?”

“It’s complicated. But I was stuck for a while.”

“Everybody assumed you’d died the day the Gate blew up. It’s been closed since. And it took weeks to clear everything. There were corpses everywhere, what with the French treachery. But you escaped?”

Manning frowned, finally taking stock of the huge bolt of cloth draped over Laura’s shoulder.

“The Gate’s open again anyway. I just came through.”

“What do you mean open?” “You came? What?”

The shop owner suddenly realized what she meant by coming through.

“Do you mean you’re a Professional? Is that why you hold all that cloth so easily?”

“Yes. Look.”

She raised her hands, showing them empty. Then both her hammers appeared suddenly in her palms. She twirled them a bit, then made one vanish as she grabbed the bolt before it could fall from her shoulder.

“I’m stronger than anyone now. Except for some of the other Professionals, of course. And other things as well.”

Manning deflated.

“I assume… you won’t take your job back then.”

“No. No offence to you, Mr Manning, but… being a Professional is different. Although I could probably do a lot here, there’s other work to do back there.”

“Back there?” asked one girl.

“In the Labyrinth. There are too few people qualified… and now, I am one. Besides, they pay very good wages, I’m told.”

Manning snorted.

“I was worried. There’s a new girl I hired to replace you, and I…”

“It’s no problem. I just wanted to see you. Let you know I made it. And grab my stuff at home.”

Manning made a face.

“I don’t know if they kept it. Everyone assumed you were dead.”

“I’ll see. If it’s gone… it’s gone.”

The rest of the girls started to press her about the Labyrinth. Laura kept on answering about the weird things from Professional life, but she quickly saw that Manning was looking anxiously toward the shop and the unattended machinery that was churning more cloth bolts.

Let him wait. She was saying goodbye to her life.

---

 

Jonas and Ira looked back at the Morvells’ house. The butler was staying at the entrance, still looking at them.

“Can’t believe they threw everything into the trash,” Jonas said.

“I’m not surprised. If I was supposed to be dead, then what? Keep a shrine to a serving boy? A victim to the wickedness of the French?”

Ira shrugged, then smiled.

“Although Mr Morvell was pretty pissed to see that I was now a Professional. Even if he didn’t believe me initially. He lost a son-in-law to the lure of the Labyrinth, and then one of his servants in addition.”

“I’m sure he was more pissed about that would-be son-in-law than you, though,” joked Jonas.

“I think he almost fell faint when you mentioned that we were invited at St. James as Professionals involved in the Gate opening.”

“It was that, or let him pester you for hours.”

“Bah. It’s not that bad. They were good masters; they ignored us except when we made errors.”

“That Morvell girl didn’t ignore you. I’m sure she kept trying to catch your attention,” Jonas said.

“That would be a first. She usually tries to find me if she needs anything done,” Ira replied.

“You know what? Let’s skip the leatherworks. They’ll have done the same thing, thrown my stuff away. I think… I’ll go to Covent Garden.”

“Your mum?”

“Yes,” Jonas confirmed. He then added, “I’ve seen her once since she said I really needed a proper job. But maybe it’s time I see her again.”

“She probably heard about you being killed,” said Ira.

“I don’t know. But I do need to see her. To say I am going to matter now. That I have a Profession. And that I’ll be the best the Kingdom has seen.”

He added, “One day.”

---

 

“Stop smothering me, brother. Even if I will have no problems surviving. Is the mother around?”

“No, Guss. She’s probably still at the store managing customers. But how did you survive? Everyone thought you’d died,” said Mack.

“Well, I assume the letter hasn’t arrived yet. I was in the Labyrinth.”

“What? But it’s closed? How can you…” the man trailed.

“It’s open again. Me and my friends… did help to do that. Oh, and cousin Luther was very, very surprised to see me.”

“He said none of us qualified. So, was he wrong? I mean, I never checked after, but if you are…”

“Special circumstances. There’s a bit of me that’s happy I can get there, and a bigger bit of me that says that I should have avoided, but here I am. By the way, where’s sister Elvie?”

“Back in her room, as usual. The cough is okay these days. I mean, nobody thought she’d still live beyond 12, but here she is.”

“I can probably help her now. I’m… a Hospitaler. I can cure diseases, just like the King’s helpers do.”

“You can? Is that even possible? Luther always said he’d ask, but we never heard back from him.”

“The Professionals I talked to said that some wasting could be cured, and others eluded them, but you could definitively make a difference.”

 

Elvie was huddled in a chair under heavy blankets, as usual for her. Her head rose when the two Fullmore brothers entered, then her eyes bulged.

“Guss? You there? ‘ryone said you were dead. Now you come and get you monk?”

Guss laughed a bit. Seeing his sister that way always saddened him, but despite all predictions to the contrary, she’d stayed alive, at least until her fifteenth birthday.

“I went into the Labyrinth.”

“Like cousin Luther? I thought no one could unless they were very good.”

“I got a dispensation. Maybe by the Lord, I don’t know. I’ll tell you all. Later, but now…”

He focused on Elvie. Cleanse Poison, just in case. Cleanse Disease. Without descriptors, it was hard to see what, if any, was happening. But, if it worked for the King… why not his sister. And he repeated that again and again until all of his aether was gone.

“Hey. I felt like a great warmth coming… from you? Is that right?”

“Yes, Elvie. I got those powers in the Labyrinth, and I became a Mender. I can alleviate the diseases and all those things that plague mankind. Even yours, I hope.”

She shed some of her blankets gingerly.

“It doesn’t feel too cold now.”

“It doesn’t last, I’m afraid. Every few weeks, I might need to come back to help you again. The ills of the Labyrinth, I can cure forever, but those of Earth I can only help. But I’m here for you little sister. I am. Forever.”

He engulfed his sister in a large hug, which she returned. With more force than he ever had felt in his life.

---

 

Alton didn’t really know how you went about with people like Jonathan. The slums were hard, and those who grieved… grieved on their own. Nobody stayed with them.

“It’s not your fault. It’s not everyone’s fault.”

“They were coming for me,” Jonathan wailed. Alton tried to comfort the man slumped on his shoulder.

“And many who were there got dead. It happens. To everyone. Everyone dies.”

“But why her? Why her mother? Why MY mother?”

“Because the Queen’s Gardens are the best place. Who could know the French would be there. I didn’t. You didn’t. They didn’t. It…”

“It SHOULDN’T have happened,” Jonathan screamed. While they were only tier-two, people turned, feeling the impact of a Presence above normal norms.

“Yes, but that’s not your fault. Maybe it’s the French, but not yours. Never yours. Never think that.”

When the man in the apartment had opened the door, and pretty much said that nobody else had been living there for more than three months, alluding to the many deaths of the Gate assault, Jonathan had completely broken down.

Over an hour, Alton had slowly teased the thing out of Jonathan, and then the man. He might be the legitimate occupant of the apartment, but he was merely mundane. No one facing a Professional with 25+ in every single Potential could avoid wilting and speaking.

Of course, all of his family and prospective fiancée had been on their way to meet him, not far from the Queen’s Gardens. And like many, they’d been caught between the converging British Professional teams and the French saboteurs.

And like many… they had died, when the fire rained from the sky, and the toxic clouds smothered the life of the mundane people of London caught in the quarrels of Empires and the might of tier-six Professionals.

And now, after three months, and nineteen days, his friend Jonathan found out that his old life was wreckage. And all he could do was to be there, and tell him that, if anyone was at fault, it was the French. Not him. Never him.

---

 

 “Good evening, sir. We’ve been summoned to the Palace,” Jonas said.

One of the guardsmen eyed them curiously, a man with a white robe and another in full ringmail and a large black sword. But the other remained unfazed and asked, “You are?”

“Jonas Sims. Aetherseer Jonas Sims and Layman Ira Heard.”

One guard came out, proffering his wrist. Jonas grabbed it, exchanging for a brief second the descriptors.

“They’re with that group. Send them to the east dancing room.”

 

The team was still milling around, trying not to gape too much at their rich surroundings when one of the butlers came back.

“His Majesty and Her Royal Highness will not be able to meet you tonight, I’m afraid. However, her Highness insisted you’d stay until the morning when they can see you.”

A number of valets came to join the butler, “They will show you your accommodations, and a light meal will be served. Do you have anything you need to be brought in?”

Jonas looked at the rest of the team before answering, “No, the rest would be in the Labyrinth.”

“We have Professionals on staff that can go there quickly if it is at Gatepost.”

“No, we’re good.”

“Then follow me, Sir. We’ve got your rooms ready.”