As the evening grows darker, Leah knocks at the door to Seffon’s library. It opens easily, and she finds him inside, with a tanned middle-aged woman Leah has not seen before. The newcomer seems surprised to see her, and Leah nods politely.

“Tha’s all,” Seffon says, with a warm smile. The newcomer returns it and leaves, looking at Leah curiously before closing the door. “That was the student I’d mentioned a few days ago, the deserter from Cheden’s military colleges,” he explains once she’s gone.

“Oh?” Leah struggles to remember, with all that has happened.

Seffon explains the woman’s story; leaving the colleges as a teen and fleeing south, first to the Shining Island, then to Seffonshold. The woman apparently brought many new spells to the school, but was also woefully undertrained in anything that was not directly offensive, and by the end of her schooling had decided to become a performer, doing conjurations in shows.

She went to school with Eschen for a year or so; he was common-born, like her, but was born-magic, unlike her. They got along well, as he was apparently very eager to please everyone he met. He was very clever for an unschooled younger child of a fishing family, and excelled in the colleges. In later years, keeping tabs on her homeland, she heard that he had been appointed the rank of captain in the ground-forces, though technically he also had a captaincy on a military ship should his post ever require travelling to the mainland – the naval captain would have responsibility of the ship, while Eschen would have responsibility over all military tasks. That is all she knows or remembers.

Leah sits in ‘her’ chair, fingers interlaced and chin resting on her knuckles, thinking it over. Seffon goes to fetch the paper he wrote up for her, with the names of the runes. Leah takes it with thanks, but is still distracted.

“What’s bothering you?”

She sits up straighter and shakes her head. “Jeno. She’s worried about the war.” For the second between saying Jeno’s name and explaining the context, Seffon sits a little more awkwardly. Leah sighs to see it, but forces her disappointment down.

“Oh, I suppose. Yes, of course. Does she want to be sent back to Cheden?”

“I think that’s a bad idea, until we know why they wanted her dead, or if that was actually their plan.”

“Right.”

The library is quiet, and Leah feels it is only growing more so, the longer she puts off asking the question.

“Seffon, how do you feel about it?”

“About Cheden sending a noble daughter as a pawn to start a war?”

Leah hesitates. “I suppose that’s an important question, but no. About me and Jeno.”

Seffon leans back in his chair and does not make eye-contact.

“Please, Seffon. It’s important to me.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re a friend, and I want to know your feelings about…deviancy feels like such a terrible word, I’m just going to call it being gay.”

The corners of Seffon’s mouth twitch down ever so slightly. “I’ve explained – ”

“The political situation, yes, but not how you feel. Please.”

Seffon runs his hand over his hair. When he talks, his voice is softer. “It’s not a secret that deviancy – being gay – is common. More common than red hair, more common than born-magic. It is however odd to find someone who’s…public, about it.”

“But how do you feel?”

Seffon smoothes the fabric of the chair’s arms. “It doesn’t bother me, Leah. It took me by surprise is all.” Leah waits quietly, hoping to force more out of him. Seffon’s tension visibly mounts until he breaks. “I wish I had been as bold, but my position…I was an only child, and I had a duty to the family line.”

Leah leans forward, jaw hanging, feet tapping a bit. “Nooooo!”

Seffon looks at her censoriously, and she gets herself back under control.

“But seriously? Seriously?”

“Why do you look so giddy?” Seffon asks, shaking his head in confused amusement. “In any other situation what I’ve just said would have been foolish and dangerous.”

“You’re one too!” Leah jumps over and gives him a quick hug. She does not immediately register his shock, and when she does she sits back awkwardly. “Sorry, got carried away. Wait, hold on. Sewheil?”

“I love her dearly, of course. I would not trade her for the world.” Seffon’s smile gets a little dopey here, but just for a moment. “But she was not my first choice; she was just…the only appropriate choice, in my family’s eyes.”

Leah beams, her feet still tapping excitedly. “Tell me about him.”

“Who?”

Leah cocks an eyebrow. “Your first choice. Tell me about him.”

Seffon blushes deeply. “I will not! This was…fifteen years ago, now? It was a passing crush, not a deep connection.”

Leah sits back and tries her best to calm down. “This is so…I’m just really happy.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re bi! That’s so cool!”

“I’m what? I thought you said your word was gay?”

“Well it’s…we’ve got a whole vocabulary, to describe different identities that fall under the umbrella of ‘not straight.’ If I understand correctly, you’re describing yourself as bisexual.”

Seffon stammers, flustered, and holds his hands up for her to stop. “Now really – ”

“But it doesn’t matter I guess, I just got carried away, and the labels might not really apply in this sort of cultural setting…anyway…” Leah sighs. “It just wasn’t the answer I expected, but I’m really glad to have heard it.”

Seffon straightens his jacket, face still bright pink. “Anyway.”

“Anyway.” Leah picks the paper back up from where she’d dropped it in her excitement. “Jeno will stay here, at least for the immediate future. Vivitha and I will head out tomorrow morning. She will be borrowing a horse, right?”

“One will be readied for her.” Seffon nods. “I will know the results of the spell by then. Would you like to know what I find?”

Leah considers, then ask that he do tell her. She stands to leave, and Seffon picks up a book from the side table.

“Something else, before I go,” Leah says, turning back at the door. Seffon looks up from his book. “If I don’t come back…” Seffon’s face falls, but he does not interrupt. “If I don’t come back…keep Jeno safe, and keep the room ready for Vivitha.”

Seffon nods, though gives an odd look at the second part. “Will she be coming back, if you don’t make it?”

Leah shrugs, and closes the door behind her as she leaves.

*

In the morning, Leah wakes Vivitha up and they both head down to the mess hall for a quick breakfast. One of the guards finds them there, and instructs them to follow him to the stables. There, they find their armour and weapons, cleaned and sharpened and ready. Seffon also stands at the gate, two scroll cases in hand.

Beeswax is being led out of her stall, with a new saddle and the same old reins, and the same riding blanket from when Leah fled Valerin after escaping prison. Leah reflects on how it will feel riding back, the slow way, and possibly having to stay. The depth of her anxiety at the thought of not returning to the Hold takes her by surprise.

Another horse – a tall white mare with a similar shape to Rip – is led out for Vivitha, already loaded with all her gear. “Chosen for her gait,” Seffon explains. “Our archers put a lot of emphasis on smooth-gaited horses. Easier to aim, I’ve heard.”

Vivitha nods politely but gives no other response.

Seffon hands each of them a scroll case. “In case one of you can’t make it,” he says, and Leah takes hers, strapping it securely to her belt. Seffon then holds out the battery bandolier, and she hesitates. Vivitha looks it over with curiosity.

“I don’t want the wrong person to get their hands on it,” Leah says finally, and Seffon nods and puts it aside.

“By the way,” Seffon adds, more quietly, and Leah tenses up. “The spell showed no exposure to the desiccation. Whatever your body went through, it wasn’t properly a coma, and it did not die, not even for a moment.”

Leah’s body slumps a bit in relief, but then she frowns and summons him back. “Why didn’t the truth spell ever show up on that rune spell? You said it was necromancy.”

Seffon considers, taken by surprise. “Because you didn’t really die? I wouldn’t be letting you go to face him if he’d already killed you once; have a little faith in me.” He clasps her shoulder and gives it a little squeeze, and she returns the gesture.

The two women mount up, and the west gates are opened.

“You know the road to follow,” Seffon says, and both of them nod. “And do you have an idea of how to get in?”

Vivitha looks to Leah. Leah looks to Vivitha. Vivitha rolls her eyes and turns back to Seffon. “Yes, we do.”

Seffon nods and raises a hand. With sunlight just touching the tops of the lookout towers of Seffonshold, Leah and Vivitha ride out and start on the path to Valerin.

They ride in silence, following the overgrown trail east and slightly north. Vivitha’s borrowed horse has, in Leah’s opinion, a very mincing gait, although she admits privately that Vivitha does not look as jostled about as Leah is on Beeswax.

Only two weeks past her initial flight from Valerin and prison, Leah still notices some changes in the undergrowth – denser leaves, more flowers, taller grasses. She lets Vivitha take the lead; the archer seems to be quite at ease with the dense greenery, and keeps them both on the trail with little issue.

By early afternoon, Leah is starting to recognise some landmarks; the creek, a certain cluster of pines surrounded by leafy trees – fully leafed out now in the new season’s growth, it seems, though they were just leafing when Leah first passed them by.

Somewhere around the unmarked border, when the trail goes from being a barely travelled lane to a dirt-paved road, Leah breaks the many-hour-long silence that had accompanied them on their trip. “You uh…you seemed to have a plan?” she asks Vivitha. “You told Seffon you did, at least.”

“Cheden ships have a very deep draft, so they can’t navigate the rivers,” Vivitha says, slowing down to walk side-by-side. “There will be plenty of foot-soldiers on the bridges and around the city, but not on the water, unless they’ve commandeered the fishing boats – which I doubt, seeing as most fishing boats can hold a maximum of three or four people.”

“I think I see where this is going, but continue.”

“We can sneak directly to the keep on a fishing boat. There are bridges to the north, east, and south, but nothing to the west, so we should be able to land there safely. Once there, we sneak around until we come across an unguarded entrance.”

“There isn’t really a lot of land to sneak around on,” Leah says uncertainly.

“Barely enough for one person, until you get to the bridges, but there are also secret exits in the wall.”

“Oh?”

Vivitha looks over her shoulder at Leah and shrugs. “They considered evacuating Lord and Lady Valerid, during the early parts of the siege, but there were archers ready to catch anyone leaving the walls.”

“Won’t there still be archers there, when we try to get in?”

Vivitha shrugs again. “An arrow can travel north as well as south.”

Leah rides in silence for a bit, then gives up. “What does that mean?”

“It means that if they’re close enough to shoot me, I’m close enough to shoot them.”

“Yeah, but if you’re close enough to shoot them, they’re close enough to shoot us.”

Vivitha leans over and grabs Leah’s shield. “Have you figured out how to use this thing yet?”

“More or less…”

“Then when they start shooting at us, cover me.”

Leah feels a distinct lack of satisfaction with this plan. They keep riding, even as the sun dips down towards the horizon. Slowly getting closer to farmland, they suddenly begin to catch traces of smoke on the wind.

“Hold on a second,” Leah says, pulling Beeswax to a stop. “What’s getting burnt?”

Vivitha breathes deeply. “That’s green smoke,” she says, then shakes her head. “Could be wood, or seaweed, or crops. It’s not grain, and it’s not meat, but that’s all I can say.”

The smell cloys at Leah’s memory, kicking up some sort of primal panic response, but she clicks for Beeswax to start moving again. Even the horse seems slightly nervous about the smell.

“Do you know any of the fishermen around the city?”

“Some,” Vivitha says, “But I’m counting on your face convincing them.”

“Oh?” Leah snorts. “What will my face have to do, to convince them?”

“Some people were very impressed by your display in the square,” Vivitha says, tone neutral. “Even ones who were ready to swear you were an agent of Seffon, the day before. Once the Cheden army attacked, as you implied they might…well, some people think you’re a bit of a saviour.” She smirks ironically. “Others still think you’re out to kill every Valerid, and end the line. Never mind them. I’m hoping that if we show you off, someone will be moved to help us.”

“Are you not equally a hero? One of the five, defender of his lordship, and so on?”

Vivitha snickers. “Face it, Leah, you’ve always been the best performer, and someone with flair is always more memorable than someone with dignity. You’re wasted on us, really; we should have left you with the circus.”

Leah chuckles a bit, and Vivitha finally turns to her. “What?” the archer asks.

“You think of yourself as someone with dignity?”

Vivitha turns back ahead and straightens her spine. “Common sense, then.”

“I’ll give you that much, sure.”

The smoke smell grows stronger. Eventually they notice a grey haze over the ground, glowing in the orange sunlight, mostly blocked by the trees. As the sun sets and they draw nearer to the outskirts of the city, picking up the pace, they emerge from the woods suddenly, surrounded by clear-cut stumps, and see that the fields ahead of them have been burnt to the dirt.

Vivitha stops dead, her face a mask of horror. Leah easily imagines why.

“The southern lands are probably untouched,” Leah says quietly, but Vivitha just shakes her head and clicks for the horse to move on.

As far as they travel, there is not a green field to be seen.

“I’ll tell Seffon to prepare shipments of food, whatever they can spare,” Leah says, as reassurance. “After the siege is broken, the city won’t starve. We’ll do everything we can.”

Vivitha nods numbly, riding on. The horses are bothered by the smell, but do not stop.

The sun disappears below the horizon, and they ride on in darkness, lit by occasional embers glowing along the sides of the road where shrubs and gardens and fences once stood. Leah cannot hear Vivitha over the hoof beats, but she thinks she catches the occasional gasp or sob.

She is starting to be hit by tiredness. Her legs are numb, and her attention wavering. Vivitha, she wagers, must be worse off, having only just recovered from her last such trip.

“Do we rest until morning?” Leah asks, and Vivitha shakes her head.

“Nowhere safe.”

“Yes there is,” Leah says, pulling off the road and towards one of the farmhouses.

“Leah! Fake Leah, get back here!”

Leah continues down the lane, and dismounts to walk the last few metres. Vivitha catches up and dismounts as well.

“At the very least we need to leave our horses somewhere,” Leah rationalises. “And isn’t there a chance someone on the Cheden side could recognise Beeswax?”

Vivitha considers this, then nods. “Do we hide in the barn?”

“People think I’m a hero? Well then, let’s cash in on that.” Leah steps up to the front door and knocks.

It takes a while for someone to answer the door, it being late at night and during a war, but eventually a young farmer opens the door, looking out into the dark suspiciously. Leah shields her eyes against the light of the candle he carries.

“Hello,” she says, with a small smile. “We’re here to kick the Chedens out on their sorry asses. Can we rest the night?”

The man blinks a few times, then pulls the door open. “There’s space by the kettle. Have you horses?”

“Two, very tired.”

The man calls a name, and a young girl scampers out of a loft and down a rickety ladder. He instructs her to give the horses water and feed, and she scurries out in her nightshirt to do so.

“Where have you come from?” he asks them, pulling aside chairs to make room by the embers of the fire.

“From the Interlands,” Leah says, watching his face for any recognition of the name: none. Ah well, can’t have it all.

“And you’ve come to kick the ship-rat bastards out?”

“If we can get into the keep safely, yes,” Vivitha says, settling down with her back against a wall and her face towards the door.

Leah lies down on the floor, her back to the flames. “Do you know any of the fishermen who work along the river?”

The man thinks a second, chewing a lip. “No, but I know some who might. I could ask – ”

Leah shakes her head. “Don’t. We don’t want word getting around.”

The man nods. His daughter returns from the barn, and confirms that the horses are hidden and seen to. She looks at Leah and Vivitha with wide eyes, pulling at the hems of her sleeves, a little awe-struck.

“Off to bed, Rosie,” the man says, then gives a final nod to the two women before leaving to go to a side bedroom.

The door closes, and the home is left in darkness. “First watch is mine,” Vivitha says, and Leah curls into a ball next to the heat.

“Thank you,” she mumbles, already falling asleep.

*

Vivitha wakes her around one in the morning, by Leah’s guess. Leah takes her position watching the door, and Vivitha curls on the stone next to the fire pit. “Wake me an hour before sunrise,” she says with a yawn, and is asleep in seconds, jaw slack, drooling a bit.

Leah keeps her mind clear and focuses on listening for hoof-beats. She is exhausted, but not horribly so.

The sounds of the farm are foreign to her: the wind between the wooden slats, rustling in the thatched roof, rattling the shutters. I’ve been too long in the Hold; I’ve forgotten what most of this world is, still.

The house is small, two rooms from what Leah can gather: kitchen-dining area, the parents’ bedroom, and a loft for the children. From the snores and the dangling blanket corners, Leah guesses at least three children.

She shifts her position slightly, grateful that at least her period had ended before the ride yesterday; she wasn’t sure where to get new supplies of moss out in the wild. Fresh stuff on rocks would probably have bugs in it. She cringes at the very thought.

The wind lessens as the night goes on, and other sounds come through; coos from a pigeon hutch, a snorting pig. She looks to the window, and sees that the sun has already begun to lighten the eastern sky, just slightly.

She shakes Vivitha awake, and the other woman slowly comes back to consciousness, rubbing her face blearily. “Already?”

“That, or they’re burning the city,” Leah says, gesturing to the window. Vivitha sits up abruptly, looking out at the sky, then punches Leah in the arm.

“Hey!” Leah whispers, rubbing the arm.

“Don’t say stuff like that,” Vivitha grumbles, standing up to leave. On her way out, she digs in her pockets and leaves a few coins on the table.

Leah and Vivitha re-saddle their mounts and lead them out of the barn. The one plough horse of the farmstead watches them go with a sleepy eye, then closes it again and resumes his sleeping.

Outside, they mount back up and start out towards the city, at a steady pace.

“Fishermen usually start the day early,” Vivitha says quietly as they ride. “If Cheden has burned all the fields, the fishermen will be the city’s last source of fresh food, so there might be a lot of business happening on the shores once the first haul comes in.”

“Will we make it in time to get there before the first haul?”

Vivitha shrugs.

The two women ride along the road as it switches from dirt track to cobbled street. The horseshoes clop loudly on the stone, and Vivitha redirects them down a side street of dirt and refuse. The horses walk along, Beeswax with her head held low. Leah pats her cream-coloured side reassuringly, and an ear flicks.

“Where will we leave the horses?”

“We might be able to hide them in a boat shack. If not, we could leave them with the fisherman, and instruct him to bring them to a safe place somewhere.”

The rushing of the river reaches their ears. Just before sunrise, they emerge from the line of buildings and descend on foot towards the docks below the north bridge. Many boats are already tied up at the docks, hauling in the day’s first catch, but no Cheden soldiers are visible despite the large Cheden ships docked a hundred metres downstream, rocking in the deeper part of the river.

One woman looks up from her haul and spots them. She whistles a tune that carries across the water, and a few more fishers look up. A man approaches them hesitantly, then more confidently once he has identified them.

“The soldiers will be down soon; you had better clear off quick,” he says to Leah, and Vivitha holds up a hand to forestall him.

“We’d like to barter passage to the near shore,” she says, switching to a more local accent. “Two’s a boat, with somewhere safe for the mares. Out of eyeshot, right?”

The man nods, while Leah tries not to side-eye Vivitha with humour. Since when did she talk like that?

“I knows a boat can take you, and a good spot for the beauties up the ledge,” the man nods to the horses, left loosely tied to a post. “Won’t bite nor kick?”

“Pinkie’s good, the white one is new but seems fine,” Vivitha shrugs. “Can’t say the days, but at least the one.”

“Consider it done,” the man says with a firm nod. “The boat’ll set in five, so get your things.”

Vivitha turns away and goes back up to the horses. Leah belatedly follows. “I think I caught most of that, but what exactly did we just agree on? Also, where’d you learn to talk like that?”

“The boat launches in five minutes. He’ll find a place for the horses, for however many days it takes us to do our job here and get out.” Vivitha pulls out her bow and strings it, then straps the quiver to her thigh. “He’ll let us off on the shores of the keep.”

“Alright,” Leah says, strapping on her shield and taking her spear out of its holder.

Vivitha steps down the stairs to the shore. “I picked up most of the talk just from trips down to the shore, while we stayed here. I grew up on river-food, and frankly, endless squab and potato doesn’t sit well with me.”

“Fair enough,” Leah says, following her down and then into a small boat the man has pulled up to the dock. As Vivitha had said, there is barely enough room for the two of them and their rower.

As the sun crests the horizon, silhouetting the buildings of the city, the three of them cross the gentle river heading towards the keep. They are not noticed, and the boat lands safely on the western bank of the smaller island. The man wishes them luck, pockets the coins that Vivitha offers him, then sets off again. At the middle of the river, he casts his nets and acts as normal.

Leah follows Vivitha around the edge of the wall; just as the archer had warned, there is never more than a metre of stone between the wall of the keep and the edge of the river. The stone is solid, though, and they can walk with confident steps despite the slipperiness.

Partway around, Vivitha stops at a door. She knocks a few times, gently, then waits. She repeats the knock, a special pattern, and waits again. Leah readies the shield, although no-one is in view yet to fire at them.

Vivitha knocks a third time, and finally the door opens, just a crack. A dark eye peers out at them, widens in recognition, and the door opens for Vivitha.

“Miss Chevin!” A young guard in Valerid colours says. He then spots Leah, and half closes the door again. “Where’ve you been?”

“Jun province,” Vivitha says, and the guard closes the door another hair. “We’re here with important news. Please, may we – ”

An arrow lands in the thick wood of the door. Looking back to the bridge, Leah can see at least four archers setting up, aiming at them. She descends the rocks to stand in the river, raising the shield between Vivitha and the archers. Her boot is tall enough to keep the water out, but the chill reaches through. “Make up your mind quick, kid,” she says, teeth clenched, as an arrow embeds itself in her shield and another clatters off the rocks at her feet.

The guard hesitates, then opens the doors and beckons them in. Vivitha scrambles up, then reaches a hand down to help Leah up. The guard closes the door behind them; one last arrow clatters in, and the rest hit the door behind them. Leah stomps her foot a bit to get the cold out.

The hall is dark, and the guard leads them by voice alone, through twists and turns.

“Where to, Miss?”

“Meredith’s office,” Vivitha whispers back. Leah almost contradicts this, then thinks better of it. Besides: office? Since when?

The guard leads them out another door into the familiar courtyard; Leah notices that the roses are leafed out, and just barely starting to bud. More importantly, she notices the guards stationed at every main gate, and others at the entry points to the keep. Their little guide leads them along the wall to one of these doorways. Leah half-ducks her head, but even so people notice her and turn cold expressions her way.

Inside, they are led through hallways and up to the third floor, finally to a narrow wooden door on the east side, overlooking the rest of the city on the central island. Opening the door, they see sunlight pouring in from a tiny window across the room, outlining the hunched form of a buff red-headed woman scribbling away at a map with a quill in her left hand.

“What?” Meredith looks up impatiently. Her eyes land on Vivitha, and then Leah. “Ah.” She turns to the guard. “Dismissed.”

The guard bows out and closes the door, leaving Vivitha and Leah in the cramped room with a cross, bleary-eyed Meredith.

“Well,” she says, sniffing and pushing back from the desk to stand. “It’s about time. What’s the news?” She directs the question to Vivitha, who turns to Leah and gestures that she answer.

Leah steps forward, and Meredith’s eyes land on her – not coldly, but not happily either. “Lord Seffon is declaring his part of the Contested Lands for Volst.”

Meredith blinks a few times and breathes in deeply. “What?”

Leah shows the scroll case. “He probably phrased it better than me. Seffon is readying a force to march against the Cheden soldiers laying siege to Valerin city. He’s declaring his corner of the Interlands for Volst.”

Meredith reaches for the scroll, and Leah hesitantly hands it over.

“I’ve got another copy. We’re meant to give it directly to Lord Valerid,” Vivitha says.

“Are you working for the pretender too, now?” Meredith asks acidly, and Vivitha shrinks a bit. Leah bites her tongue.

Meredith opens the scroll case, breaks the seal, and reads. Her eyes narrow, and she frowns. “This is in Old West Volsti.”

Leah rolls her eyes at Seffon’s stubbornness, and yet given his explanation for why he chose to do it earlier, she can’t fault him for doing it now. “Then bring it to Lord Valerid and have him send for his translator.”

Meredith rolls the scroll back up and edges around the side of her desk. “Move,” she says, and the two women step out of her way. She opens the door, grabbing her belt and two swords as she goes. “You had better be telling the truth, Talesh.” Meredith grumbles, snapping her fingers to catch a guard’s attention. “Four coffees – no, make it five, and see if you can find the Old West Volsti translator. Send them to Lord Valerid’s office.”

Meredith leads them down the hall, down a flight of stairs, and over towards the centre of the keep. Leah barely has time to recognise the area from all the endless debriefings before Meredith knocks at a door.

“Enter,” a voice from within says.

She pushes open the door, and steps in with the two women in tow. “The runaways have returned, sir.”

Lord Valerid looks up with a tired, aged face, much different from when Leah last saw him. He looks between Leah and Vivitha many times before finally speaking.

“Oh bugger, what do you two want?”