Justice League vs. The Legion of Super-Heroes
Author: Brian Michael Bendis
Date: 2022-12-13 05:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Graphic Novels; Comics; Dc Comics; Superheroes; Comic Book; Batman
Description: The greatest heroes of two eras face their biggest threat...each other! It’s the 21st century versus the 31st century, with all of reality at stake! One thousand years in the future, a Legion of Super-Heroes comes together to dedicate their lives to recapturing the great age of heroes of the 21st century. When the heroes discover that reality is falling to a great darkness in both times simultaneously, the Justice League and the Legion of Super-Heroes must team up to stop it all. Soon, the Justice League are trapped in the 31st century, and the looming terror of the Great Darkness hovers over
Publisher: DC Comics

Table of Contents

Title Page

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

End Notes

Destroyer excerpt

Michael-Scott Earle

Chapter 1

"I am not impressed by your flying." The woman's blue eyes made my heart freeze.

"I just got my cloak last night, and--" I began to say.

"Shut up," Fallon said as she held the palm of her calloused hand a few inches in front of my face. "I don't care that it is your first day on the job. I refuse to let you botch this investigation." The blonde woman nodded to the door of the inn, and a leather-armored soldier saluted her.

The city guards had cleared a space between the curious crowd and the inn's entrance. I had never met the inn's owner, Rafa Manus, but he was well respected in this part of the city. Investigating his death, along with the slew of other murders in the city, was my first assignment as a member of the Potentia sisterhood.

"Don't say anything. You are new, still a pigeon. You don't know your ass from your wings. I will ask the innkeeper's widow all the questions. Do you understand?" Fallon was my wingmate, and she was supposed to be providing me with her experience.

"Yes, Fallon." I nodded at her and forced a smile to my lips.

I had felt such elation yesterday, when I had found out that the years of training had finally paid off and I was to be chosen as a Potentia. The joy had turned somewhat sour this morning, when the captain introduced me to the woman I would probably be spending the rest of my career with.

"Ahhh. Wait," the woman said as she stepped past the guard and opened the door. "Stand here in the entryway and look out at the crowd. Oftentimes, the murderer will return to the scene of the crime. Look for someone with bloody boots, and tell me. Are you smart enough to do that job, pigeon?" Her square mouth turned upward into a sneer when she spoke.

"Yes, Fallon." I nodded and swallowed to force my stomach down from my throat.

My wingmate pulled her light-blue cloak around her sides as she stepped through the doorway, and I could hear her greet the innkeeper's widow. Fallon's voice acquired a gentle timbre, and I did my best to observe the crowd while simultaneously eavesdropping on the questions that my partner asked the woman.

Then I saw the bloody boots.

They were thick leather galoshes and belonged to a grizzled man who stood half a head taller than the rest of the crowd. His eyes passed warily over the guards in front of the inn before his glance found me. We stared at each other for half a moment, and then he began to inch away through the dense throng of citizens.

"Fallon," I said into the dark inside of the tavern. I could see that chairs had been tossed aside in the main room and that a pool of blood had formed on the wooden floor.

"Please excuse my wingmate for the rude interruption," Fallon apologized to the weeping widow before she turned to me with a clenched jaw.

I nodded outside, and my partner directed her eyes out the door. I was going to tell her about the man with the bloody boots, in case she couldn't see him, but my wingmate understood what I wanted, and she took a few steps to stand near me.

"Go walk toward him. Slowly," she instructed.

I nodded at her and then walked from the doorway toward the crowd. The man was facing away from me now, but he glanced over his shoulder, and our eyes met again. I expected him to flee, so I wasn't surprised when he pushed through the throng of citizens and began his dash through the streets of Petrasada.

"Catch him, pigeon!" Fallon's gruff, raspy shout cut through the air like a rusted saw blade against a piece of rock. Her voice possessed the kind of timbre that would make my nose hair curl, but now I was focused on the back of the escaping suspect, and I tried to predict his next path while I chased him.

I wasn't the only one who felt the lash of her command. The crowds in the street halted mid-step, and the people turned toward the pair of us with obvious confusion. The running man didn't pause in his escape though, and I forced my legs to sprint after him.

"Faster, you idiot!" Fallon's screech echoed off the brightly-colored clay homes, and I had to smile at the irony. I didn't need to look behind me to guess that my wing-mate wasn't bothering to move. That was fine. She had spent most of the morning telling me how useless I was, and I didn't expect the crusty woman to assist me with anything other than a tongue lashing.

The man was muscular, wide at the shoulder, and possessed arms like tree trunks. I would have thought him a miner, but his skin bore the tan leathery patina of a lifetime in the suns, so I guessed that he worked as a farmer on one of the city's base levels. Maybe it didn't matter where he was from. The blood on his boots was proof enough that he had been at the crime scene, and I needed to bring him in for questioning.

The thick man plowed into the crowd and scattered half a dozen citizens. They screamed with panic, but their cries only seemed to make my quarry run faster. He leapt over a cart carrying fruit, rolled under a wagon hauling lumber, and then sprang down the stairs to the lower level of the city. They were practiced movements, and I wondered how a farmer had learned to move in that manner.

I reached the steps a few seconds after the suspected murderer and made a long leap down them. He took the steep steps three at a time, but I felt my cloak unfurl from my back and catch the air. It was a controlled fall, and I aimed my landing to smash into the man's kidneys as soon as he reached the base of the clay stairs.

"Ahhh!" I shrieked when he turned suddenly, grabbed my foot, and threw me against the wall. I felt the wind explode from my lungs, my sword sheath snag on the steps, and my cloak sandwich between my spine and the rock.

I kicked my other leg out in a movement that was half instinct and half training. My boot caught the man in the chin, and his teeth shattered from the impact. He let go of my leg and rolled away like a tumbleweed.

Then the man jumped to his feet and started running again.

"Hold! I am Potentia! You are under arrest!" I screamed after the man. It was what they told us to do in training, but, as I suspected, real criminals wouldn't pay attention to such a command. He kept running, and I pushed myself off the wall with my cloak to continue after him. We now ran on level thirty-two of the city, still in the residential zones, but the foot traffic wasn't as thick as level thirty-three. My quarry picked a clean line through the streets, and I saw him lean forward to gain the most momentum.

My cape flapped behind me and added a timed boost of speed. The man might have been able to escape me a few days ago, but now that I wore the Alula cloak, there was no way he would escape. He had gained a fifty-yard lead when I first pulled away from the wall, but after a few seconds, I was almost close enough to grab his collar. The man outweighed me by some eighty pounds, so I knew I couldn't just yank him back like a puppy. I could trip him though, and my left foot kicked out while my cloak lifted me off the ground at the last instant.

The suspect's blood-covered boots collided, and he fell forward. He had been dashing toward the edge of this city level, and, for a second, I thought he was going to tumble off the edge. He popped to his feet a foot before the cliff, however, and yanked a dagger from his belt.

"Potentia bitch." The man was all sorts of ugly, and his dagger looked more jagged than the teeth I'd just broken.

"Put down your weapon," I tried to sound calm when I voiced my command, but this was my first day on the job and my first time apprehending someone. So it should have been no surprise that my command came out like a mouse squeak.

I realized that I should be holding my sword, and I yanked the rapier out of its sheath with a trembling right hand. The man eyed the length of my blade and then glanced at his own six-inch weapon. I could see the options dance in his eyes as he weighed the probable outcomes. Potentia weren't invincible, but our magic was supposed to be powerful and our training impeccable. There wasn't any possible way this idiot could think that he would win against me, but his eyes focused on my hilt and lingered there.

My hand shook like a stack of dropped gelatin.

He darted forward with a snarl and thrust his knife at my left side. For a fraction of a second, my mind spun with terror, and I froze. This was not a training drill. This was not a practice fight where I would beat one of my sisters and then hug her afterward. This was a man almost twice my size trying to punch a hole in my stomach with a jagged blade. This was someone who would kill me without a second thought. He would probably relish the experience and brag to his friends after he dispatched me.

Half a dozen years of reflexes took control of my arm, and my rapier danced to my unprotected side. The upper half of my weapon smacked into his blade, and the motion knocked the man's muscled arm away easily. He snarled blood from his broken teeth and made another strike. This attack was telegraphed a bit more, and I flicked my wrist to parry the attack before it even made it part of the distance between us.

The ugly man made three more stabbing attempts, but each met with my well-prepared blade and a percussive sound of steel. I felt my muscles begin to relax. My training was holding true, and I was more than ready to wear my Alula and protect the citizens of this city. If anything, this man had only a fraction of the skill of my training sisters. I'd spent countless hours sparring with them, and our high-speed rapier play had evolved into a practice of predicting attacks as arms moved only fractions of an inch. This man was clumsy and slow, and his weapon had no range.

He could not best me.

My quarry seemed to realize I had him beat, and he glanced to the sides to find another way to retreat. He leapt away from me, and his blood-covered boots teetered on the sharp edge of the brick path. There should have been a protective rail placed on the edges of this level to keep citizens from falling forty feet to their deaths, but the spot was close to a wide wagon ramp. Any barrier would have prevented donkeys from pulling their carts to this level of the city, so none had been placed. The man seemed to realize he was about to fall, and he waved his arms through the air like a windmill to keep from tumbling.

I stepped forward and grabbed onto the front of his shirt with my left hand. I needed the suspect alive for questioning, and I knew that Fallon would shriek at me for the next week if I let the man throw himself to his death. My first few hours with the woman had made it apparent how delighted she was to be saddled with a new Potentia, and I didn't want to hear her complaining for the rest of our career together.

As soon as my gloved fingers closed around the front of the man's shirt, I realized my mistake.

He reached up with his left arm, trapped my hand against his chest, and then stabbed at my unprotected stomach. I shoved my waist away and twisted to the side. The jagged blade skipped along the edges of my leather armor, and the man's eyes opened in shock when I pushed him off the ledge.

We both fell.

He screamed on the way down, and I tried to pry my hand free of his chest. It took two tugs, but he let go of my arm and tried to grab onto the clasp of my cloak. Maybe he thought that it would save him, as I hoped my wings would save me. I tried to open them, but I was still new to using the magic, and it probably didn't help that my short twenty-two moons of life were cascading through my mind like so many minstrel songs.

My wings didn't open, and we crashed into the clay roof of a home below.

The large man broke my fall, but the roof didn't, and we smashed through it as if it was made of brightly-colored water. A hard-tile floor lay in the room below, but this too shattered with our weight. Finally, we came to rest with an impact that felt as if someone had kicked me in the stomach to wake me.

I was covered with dust, bits of roof, rice from a citizen's meal, and a wrapping of floor rug. I had no idea where my rapier had landed, so I struggled to my aching legs while I searched for the weapon.

"You are under arrest for the suspected murder of tavern owner Rafa Manus," my voice came out with a cough, and I spat up what felt like a pound of clay dust. My sword had impaled itself in a wooden table next to me. Had it landed a few feet to the left, it might have dug into my ass as I landed. That would have been embarrassing, and given Fallon another reason to shriek at me. I grabbed the hilt, yanked the blade free of the table, and pointed its tip at the suspect.

"You are under arrest for... ahhh, shit." I saw that the man hadn't moved. His jagged dagger had found a spot between his ribs right over his heart. The hilt protruded from his chest as if it was a tiny shovel stuck in dirt, and his tongue rolled out of his broken mouth like a pink slug that was trying to escape.

"Pigeon!" Fallon's raspy voice called from above me. I tilted back my aching neck and saw my wingmate float through the air. Her Alula was partially extended, and I could see that the blue cloth of the magical cape had half turned into feathers.

"You dumb bitch," she growled as soon as she landed. "I told you to catch him, not throw him off a level and into a house. Are you an idiot?" The woman's ice-blue eyes narrowed, and she squared her shoulders to face me.

"No, he tried to stab me, and I--" Pain exploded on my cheek, and I was suddenly lying on the dust-covered tiles of the home. Bright lights swam across my vision, and I felt my head spin. I hadn't even seen Fallon slap me. The woman was unbelievably fast. It was to be expected of a Potentia who had worn her Alula cloak for over fifteen years.

"I don't care about your excuses, pigeon. I care about results. I told you that the murderer would return to the crime scene, I told you that his boots would have blood on them, and I pointed him out to you. This is why I hate working with pigeons as wingmates. You are all too new and stupid to be of any use." The woman's square jaw tightened, and she shook her short blonde hair.

"Get off your ass and go get the guards to take care of the body. It will take me two hours to file this report and cost the city a dozen silver pieces to repair this home," she sighed heavily and stared at the corpse of the man I'd accidently killed.

I leaned forward on my hands and then pushed myself to my feet. My face still hurt from her slap, but my stomach felt far worse agony. I'd failed terribly on my first day, and I didn't know what my debriefing would entail. Would they take the Alula from me? Would they suspend me? I didn't know what I would do with myself if they kicked me out of the Potentia. I'd spent most of my life at the orphanage dreaming of the career, and the caretakers there said I was drawing pictures of the winged cloak before I could even speak.

"Why are you still standing here?" Fallon barked, and I shook my head in an attempt to quieten my terrors. I looked at the hole in the roof, and my cloak began to open so that I could fly up through it.

"No." I felt my wingmate's hand grab my arm. She was as strong as she was quick, and I fought against the urge to wince with the pain. "You don't deserve to fly out of here. Walk down the stairs like a normal citizen and find the guards. Then walk them back here. Be fast. I will be waiting and trying to piece together the report that will end your short career."

There was a lump in my throat, and it felt the size of a loaf of bread. I couldn't speak to Fallon, so I lowered my eyes and forced myself to nod my head. She let go of my arm, and I turned toward the door. A few steps took me through the ruined room and down the narrow stairs. I paused at the apartment's exit to the street and took a deep breath. The tears were flowing down my cheek, and I took a handful of seconds to wipe my eyes before I went to look for the guards.

Chapter 2

Later that day I sat outside my captain's office. I tried to review my missteps, but it was hard to think because of the yelling.

There was a lot of yelling.

I couldn't quite hear exactly what Captain Ocellina was saying to Fallon through the thick office door. I thought about pressing my ear to the wood so that I could eavesdrop better, but there were a dozen guards filling out reports in the bullpen area of our nest. They were all pretending not to hear my wingmate getting yelled at, but I could see them giving me sideways glances.

"First. Damn. Day!" I heard the captain's voice yell, with the power of a tornado, and the thunder of something pounding on a desk.

Fallon said something muffled, and there was a pause in the shouting.

"Maybe I should take it out of your pay?" the captain screamed the question. I saw a few of the guards stand up from their desks in the bullpen and walk toward the room that served as our dining hall.

My wingmate said something else muffled, and I thought again about pressing my ear to the door.

"Come in, Anelia." The door in front of me opened suddenly, and I gasped with surprise before I stepped through it.

I'd been standing outside the captain's office for an hour, and my mind had been acting out Fallon's report about my performance as if it was a doomsday play. Then the shouting had started. Now I would know what my fate would be, and it was somewhat of a relief. It did seem as if Fallon had gotten into trouble for this morning's events, but that didn't mean I would not be punished. Or expelled from the sisterhood.

"Take a seat." Captain Ocellina looked almost the exact opposite of Fallon. Where my wingmate possessed a square, mannish face, Ocellina's was a beautiful oval shape. Where Fallon was wide and short, Ocellina stood tall and slender and looked as if she could have been a dancer. Fallon's hair lay chopped at the neckline and was the color of year-old straw, but the captain's hair spun a long shimmering ink stain that fell almost to her waist.

"Thank you," I said as I sat in the chair next to my wingmate.

Fallon shot me an angry glare, but she directed her cold blue eyes across the desk when the beautiful captain took her own seat. The ebony-haired woman wasn't wearing her rapier, but she did have a pistol harnessed to her lithe torso. It looked like one of those expensive flint-sparking weapons that the upper echelon of the city would use, but I knew better. Each of the nest captains was gifted by the Priestesses with one of the gold-plated weapons, and they never needed to be reloaded or maintained.

For an uncomfortable few seconds, Ocellina flipped through a stack of papers. From the angry-looking handwriting, I guessed that they were Fallon's report, and I forced my eyes elsewhere. The captain's office was decorated with beautiful oil paintings of the city, potted ferns, and the countless award banners that she had received during her amazing career.

"Do you ladies know why I took command of this nest a few months ago?" The raven-haired woman set down the report and turned her dark eyes toward Fallon and me.

"No, ma'am," Fallon answered before I could. I actually did know the answer, since I'd followed Ocellina's career from the moment she had first been given the Alula.

"It was the worst-performing nest in all of Petrasada. Crime in our district was out of control, citizens complained about Potentia abuse, and then three of our sisters were killed on the last Moon Night. This place was a disaster. Fallon, your memory does go back six months, does it not?"

"Yes, ma'am," Fallon nodded at the captain, and I could read no emotion on my wingmate's face.

"These murders are out of hand, and the last thing I want to do is call another nest in here for assistance. It would be embarrassing for all of us." The captain sat back in her leather chair with a sigh. "But, as you often say, Fallon, results matter. There are twelve other Potentia I command, and I need you all to find someone who we can connect to these murders."

"The man who Anelia killed was the murderer. If she had not--"

"Ahhh." The captain held up a finger and cut Fallon's words short. "I've read your report and examined the body myself. The man was a rancher and butcher. It was cow's blood on his boots."

"Then why did he run? He was guilty of something." Fallon crossed her arms, and I saw the nails of her hand dig into the leather armor on her bicep.

"Why wouldn't he run? He had one Potentia screaming at him while another chased him. These people are afraid of us. Do you have any idea why that might be, Fallon?" Ocellina raised an eyebrow, and her lips curled into the faintest outline of a smirk. I was surprised that the captain wasn't yelling at my partner again. It seemed as if Fallon had made a serious miscalculation by asking me to chase after the suspect.

"No, ma'am." My wingmate seemed to have gained control of her emotions, and I noticed her fingers relax.

"Your report doesn't mention anything about questioning Rafa Manus' wife, the inn's patrons, or his suppliers. Are there some pages missing from this?" Ocellina gestured to the four-inch stack that Fallon had transcribed. The beautiful woman's eyes flashed dangerously at my wingmate, and I wondered if she was about to resume her shouting.

"I didn't have time to question them because of the mess that the pigeon made," Fallon nodded her head over to me. "I will question them immediately. May I be dismissed?" My wingmate seemed completely unaffected by Ocellina's disciplinary shouting.

"Take the night off. I don't want to hear of you visiting Manus' inn. Understand?" Ocellina's voice took on a hard edge, and the older woman nodded her head slowly.

"Good. I'll see you in the morning. Dismissed," the captain said, and I stood with Fallon.

"Sit back down, Anelia." The raven-haired woman turned her gaze back to me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Fallon grin, and I felt my stomach drop again. I had almost thought I was going to get out of here without getting kicked from the Potentia.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" Ocellina asked after Fallon had left the office.

"I made a mistake. I was foolish."

"Probably, but you are new. The reason we put pigeons with more-experienced Potentia is so that they will learn. Fallon is supposed to be hard on you, a bit more conscientious of your safety, but still hard on you. She shouldn't have sent you after the suspect alone." The beautiful woman laughed, and I felt my uneasiness swell. I had often been accused of possessing more than a little adulation for Captain Ocellina, and I hated to think that she expected me to run from the dangerous parts of my job.

"I understand," I said, but the lump in my throat had returned with the tone of the captain's voice.

"Ahhh, I know you do. Here, look at this." She reached into a drawer of her expensive wooden desk and set a worn-looking folder on top of Fallon's report.

"Do you know what this is?"

"No ma'am, but it looks like one of the training folders my instructors would carry."

"Yes, do you know what yours says?"

"Nothing flattering, I would guess." I forced my lips into a smile, and my heart began to race. This was it. She'd figured out that I shouldn't have ever been accepted into the Potentia.

"Exactly." Ocellina leaned her head back and let out a laugh that sounded like musical bells. "You were one of the worst performers across all categories. Especially in fencing and hand-to-hand combat." I felt my cheeks redden at her words, and I forced an even breath out of my lungs. "But I still recommended you anyway, and I was delighted when I saw that my nest was your first pick. Do you know why?"

"No ma'am," the tension left my muscles. Thank the Priestesses, she wasn't going to fire me from the Potentia.

"Perhaps there is a bit of nepotism. You know I am an orphan as well?" she asked, and I nodded my head. "And both of us were born on a Moon Night. Only happens once a year, so that is something else we share." I nodded again. I knew everything about Ocellina's career, and perhaps our similarities had originally gotten me interested in her.

"But there is something else that the tests and placements don't show. I recommended you because you have heart. You don't quit. I saw it time and time again when I was elected to survey the training program. The other nestlings would get discouraged when they failed. They would become broken things when met with challenges that they couldn't overcome immediately. You seemed to grow stronger with each failure. That is what we need here. We need women with everlasting strength. We need women with backbone. There are only three hundred of us, and we are responsible for the safety of Petrasada and her citizens. The Priestesses have given us our magic, and the city guard swears allegiance to our command. It is a life that demands strength. Not just because of the difficulties entailed, but because we represent the order of existence. I know you understand this."

"Yes, ma'am." I felt a smile come to my face, and the ache from my fall seemed to disappear with her words. I hadn't realized that Ocellina had intervened in my placement, and the news explained my surprise at being selected from the crowd of other women who had seemed to perform better than me on all our training tests.

"Good. I have an eye for talent. I'm expecting you to solve these murders. Not on your first day, of course, but you will learn a great deal from Fallon while you are her wingmate."

"We will still be wingmates?" I asked.

"Of course, and I expect you two to get along for as long as I command you to be a team. Understand?" She smiled coyly.

"Yes, ma'am," I nodded. "What of the man's family? I will visit them and give my apologies." The lump formed in my chest when I thought about telling the man's wife and his children what I had done.

"Unfortunately, Spurius Canta did not have a family."

"Unfortunately?"

"Yes, it would have been good for you to see the consequences of mistakes. Telling someone that you've accidently killed a member of their family would temper your future judgment."

"I understand, ma'am," the lump moved down from my throat and into my stomach. It felt like I'd eaten some bad food.

"Do not be too upset by the lost opportunity, Anelia. The report said that the man did try to kill you with his knife, and while he was a rancher, he had also been arrested over a dozen times for violence. I'm not going to say that his killing was justified, but you defended yourself as expected. Understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," I sighed, and felt the terror uncoil from my intestines.

"Excellent. Do you have friends from your orphanage?"

"Yes, ma'am?" I was surprised by her question, but her tone of voice made me believe that our conversation was coming to an end.

"At the end of my first day as a pigeon, I went drinking with all of my orphanage friends. I think I drank my bodyweight in cheap beer and another body weight's worth of sweet cider. I woke up the next morning with a terrible hangover and then worked for three days to solve my first case. The first night of drinking is a tradition with pigeons, so I order you to have a good time tonight. Understand?"

"Yes, ma'am." This was my dismissal, so I stood and placed my hand over the clasp of my cloak to salute her.

"You and I will celebrate together when you are promoted from pigeon to full Potentia. I did it in two months. I think you can beat that time. What do you say?"

"I will work hard to make it so, ma'am," I couldn't help but smile at the beautiful woman.

"Good. Dismissed." She nodded, and I exited her office into the busy bullpen of the nest.

Chapter 3

"How was your first day?" My brother was waiting on a clay street bench outside the nest. He jumped to his feet as soon as he saw me and gifted me with a handsome smile.

"I need a beer, or eleven," I laughed and let him wrap his arm around mine.

"I know just the place." He winked at me, and I laughed.

"Juliana's?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yep! Everyone is waiting for us. Let's go!" He tugged on my arm, and I shook my head and followed him.

"So, it didn't go well?" he asked after we took a few steps toward our favorite tavern. It was on the far side of level twelve, so we had about an hour's worth of stairs and walking before we made it there. I almost told him that I wanted to eat some place closer, but then I remembered Ocellina's order. Drinking with my friends on the far side of Petrasada was appropriate.

"Yes and no," I said. "I made a mess of the day, but I believe that my captain is happy with me. I just got out of a meeting with her."

"Ohh!" His eyes got large, and he smiled again. "I'd love to get a private meeting with Captain Ocellina. Do you think she'd want to have dinner with a very motivated cooper's apprentice?" He wiggled his eyebrows when he asked, and I fought against my laughter.

"She might be interested, but are you making barrels now? I thought you were a tailor's apprentice last week? Weren't you a cobbler before that? What happened to the six months you spent blacksmithing?"

"Barrels and pots are a much more worthwhile endeavor, Sis. I kept poking myself with needles."

"Were you poking yourself with needles?" I smirked at him, "or were you poking the master's daughter with your--"

"Hey, hey, hey now." My brother pulled his arm from mine and waved my words away. "It wasn't my fault that he didn't understand that I wasn't ready to commit to a single woman for the rest of my days. Can you believe that he tried to stab me with his shears? He seemed so mild mannered when I first took the position."

"I can't imagine why someone would feel that way about you." I rolled my eyes and let him take my arm again. My brother was extremely handsome, ridiculously charming, and he had enjoyed an easy path growing up in our orphanage. The governesses had all loved my sibling, and so did the other kids who lived in the packed home. The easy upbringing had not prepared him for young adulthood, and he hadn't been able to find steady work for the last few years.

"Exactly! But, I'd be a fitting groomsman for your captain. What do you say, Sis?" He wiggled his eyebrows again, and I was forced to laugh. The sensation felt wonderful in my stomach, and some of the day's stresses began to leave my shoulders. There was a clock on a passing wall, and it said that the time was well into the second half of the day. Most of the stores were closing, and soon the narrow streets would be filled with workers trying to get home or to their favorite tavern.

"Maybe I will mention you after I get promoted." I shook my head at him and tried to fight back my smile. I couldn't imagine Captain Ocellina getting along with Vibus. He was just too lazy, and I didn't want to risk any part of my career on my brother's whimsical relationships.

"I understand. That will give me the chance to hone my cooper craft. I should be a master in a few months. Ahhh, look at this view!"

Vibus had walked me to one of the bamboo ladders that descended to the next level. He leaned against the railing by the edge of the steep cliff and opened his arms to the horizon.

"I normally don't get up to the thirty-fourth level of Petrasada. I know it isn't anywhere close to the top, but I think I can see all the way to the edge of the first level. Do you see it?" He pointed with his finger.

"Yes," I admitted. I'd donned the Alula last night during a long ceremony that involved bathing in the Apa Pool at the top of the vertical city. I had felt different after the Priestesses chanted their prayers and placed the magical garment over my bare shoulders. The woman who had performed the ceremony told me that I would experience improved health for the rest of my life, and I wondered if my vision was already getting better. I didn't think I could see that far before.

"It is blustery. I think I can see where the chains meet the Keidas Desert." He pointed to the right a bit, and I followed his finger to the links that connected the bottom of the large floating island city to the distant desert below us.

The massive rings of the chain hung from below the first level of the floating city and stretched to a horizon so far away that we actually had to look upward. My brother was correct, it was a windy day, and the clouds that normally surrounded the chains were absent. I could see where the massive links sank into the ground of the endless wastelands. The chains were rumored to be over fifty miles long, so each rectangular loop looked tiny from this distance. We had once walked to the edge of the first level of the city and peered down at the nearest links. From that place, they were still several hundred feet away, but each individual link was said to be almost a quarter of a mile in diameter.

"Hey, I just realized that you can fly down there now. Can you carry me?" My brother's eyes grew wide at the thought, and he glanced at the cloak that hung from my shoulders.

"I wish I could, but we aren't permitted to fly outside the first level unless we have a specific assignment signed off by our nest's captain." I shrugged.

"Oh, but you could--"

"I'm also not really strong enough to carry anyone." I interrupted what I knew he was going to ask me with a smile. "Some of the Potentia can, but I've only had about a minute of flying time, and my wingmate yelled at me the entire journey to our first case."

"Well, that sounds terrible. So she isn't fun?" He smirked.

"She is the exact opposite of fun, but the job isn't supposed to be fun. I'll tell you more over a beer, or eleven, like I said earlier. Let's get going."

"Can you glide me down, though?" He stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth and pointed at the bamboo ladder. "It isn't flying, it is controlled falling. Let's try."

"Hmmm." I looked around and saw that the streets were about a quarter full. Still, the Alula's pale blue color attracted attention, and I noticed that most of the citizens of Petrasada looked at me from the corners of their eyes as they walked past us.

"Let's try, but if I drop you, and you break your tailbone, don't come crying to me." There are no Potentia rules written about giving your brother, or anyone else, a ride with the magic cloak, but I guessed that Fallon would spend an hour screeching at me if she knew.

"You got it." He raised his arms to his side as if he was a bird and started flapping them like an idiot.

"You don't need to do that." I laughed while I wrapped my arms across the front of his chest so that I pressed into his back. "Just relax and get ready to land." I felt my cloak begin to change from the cloth fabric into the bird-like feathers. It would probably take me years to master the change and feel of the magic, but the Priestess had told me that I would be able to use the basic powers of the Alula within a few hours of the enchantment binding it to me.

I did feel a bit stronger, and I had no problem lifting my much heavier brother and stepping to the edge of the bamboo ladder. The next rooftop was only twenty feet below me, so even if the Alula didn't work as it had earlier we probably wouldn't fall hard. I still let out a long breath and prayed to the Priestesses that I wouldn't kill both of us.

Then I leaned off the edge of the level.

The cloak sprang into full wings as soon as my boots left the ledge, and Vibus' weight tugged against my arms. For half a second, I thought that the cloak would collapse under the combined weight, but the wings felt as if they were part of my body, and I rotated them against the winds of the city as if they were feathered kites attached to my back.

"Woooohoooo!" My brother opened his arms again like a bird, and we started to float toward the lower floor. The glide seemed completely under my control, and I found that I could easily aim us to overshoot the next level, and even beyond.

"Wow!" I thought I heard my brother whisper as the lower levels of Petrasada spread out below us.

The massive floating rock that the dense metropolis clung to was the shape of a fat trapezohedron, and each lower level was significantly wider than the one above it. Below the first level, where most of the farming and ranching was maintained for the city, the surface of the floating rock tapered to another point. I'd never seen the bottom, dark half of Petrasada, but I had studied plenty of sketches during my education at the orphanage. We'd once had a miner visit the school to tell us of the complications involved in recovering metals while hanging a mile over the endless Keidas Desert.

My brother's amazement made me smile. Maybe I was still in disbelief about my appointment to the Potentia. I was little more than a street rat, a poor orphan girl who had done nothing more useful than being born, but I loved this city and her people. I'd wanted to feel the air like the birds and protect every child who didn't have parents. I wanted to serve the Priestesses and ensure order in the city.

I wanted to make a difference, and now I floated on the cool winds of the city with my darling brother in my arms.

Priestesses be praised for this miracle they had granted to my life.

I spotted Juliana's tavern far below me in the distance, but I felt as if my wings could guide us there. Within a minute, we had landed in the cobblestone street right in front of the small tavern. I let go of my brother's chest, and he raised his arms in the air with a triumphant shout.

"Whooo! That was amazing! We made it here in just a few minutes. No wonder the Potentia command the guards. You can get anywhere in the city quickly." He did a little dance next to me.

"Yes, it was fun. I am eager to do more flying tomorrow."

"I bet it will never get old," the handsome man laughed.

"I doubt it," I said with a smile.

"You know what else is amazing?" he stopped his dance and asked with a serious expression.

"No--"

"Your boobs. When did that happen? I've never really noticed them, but it was hard not to when they were pushing against my back. Now that you have a career, when are you going to find a man?"

"You ass." I smacked him on the shoulder and tried not to smirk. He exploded with laughter so hard that he had to hold his sides.

"You are terrible, and gross, and awful. Let's go meet our friends." His laughter continued until he was actually crying, so I walked toward the tavern where we both ate nearly every dinner.

The exterior of the pub was made of thick clay, as were most of the buildings below the fiftieth level of Petrasada. Juliana had painted her building a bright shade of pink, though, and it practically glowed with the light of the twin suns. She'd made pretty flower paint designs on the surface of the roof, and the white petals of the artwork had been a familiar beacon while I floated above the city streets.

I opened the door and stepped into the crowded restaurant. The sound was a cacophony that blended into an unintelligent sonata. It would be impossible to have a private conversation in the small room, but the locals didn't go to Juliana's for a quiet time. They went to be with their friends, yell at each other, and enjoy the rich smells and tastes of spicy grilled meats.

The tavern room was suddenly silent.

Sixty pairs of eyes gazed at me, and I froze with the door handle in my hand and my leg outstretched to step. The faces blended into a single chaotic painting, and I had trouble identifying the features of my friends. Was this what it was like to be a Potentia? The few times I had seen them enter taverns, the room had grown silent, and people had either left or whispered with fearful voices. No one wanted to feel the wrath of the Priestesses, and their winged commanders were arms of the city's justice.

"Anelia is a Potentia!" Juliana was larger than any man I'd ever seen, even the rancher I had fought with earlier today, and her long blonde hair hung braided into two pigtails. She held four giant steins of beer in each hand, and her off-key, sing-song announcement caused the entire tavern to thunder with applause.

I felt my cheeks turn hotter than the suns, and my brother pushed me the rest of the way into the restaurant. The place was packed with women and men. Now that I'd had a few seconds, I recognized all of them as my friends. Dozens of hands groped my cloak, shook my hands, and patted me on the back.

"You knew about this?" I mouthed to my brother across the endless stream of congratulations. He winked at me and then turned to hug one of the pretty blonde girls who always seemed to be seeking his attention.

I made my way through the crowd toward the bar, but the going was slow since each new set of greetings turned into a long explanation of my first day on the job and the magic of my cloak. My brother and I normally ate breakfast and dinner at Juliana's, so we knew almost everyone in this zone of the city.

Finally, I reached the long bar and took my usual spot at the far end. Juliana stood behind the counter and threw her massive frame over the bar to embrace me.

"We are so proud of you." She pulled my face into her ample bosom and wrapped her strong arms around my shoulders. "So, so, so proud of you." I probably wouldn't have been able to hear her with the normal noise level of the tavern, but her words were clear when my face was smooshed into her chest.

"Oh! I am touching your cloak," she yelled and pulled me away from her breasts a second before I ran out of air.

"That is fine, you can touch it." I smiled at the happy woman and gestured with my hand toward the pale blue fabric.

"My hands are covered with food and beer. I don't want to get it dirty." Her big brown eyes glanced at the magical garment with hesitation.

"No, it's fine, it won't get dirty. Magic and all that stuff. They said it was okay."

"It is so soft. It almost feels like bird feathers, but it looks like thick cotton or wool now. How do you make it turn into wings?" my friend asked as she petted the cloth, but I couldn't hear her voice over the crowd now and had to read her lips. It was a skill my brother and I had perfected while eating here.

"I just think about the change." I pointed at my head while I spoke. Juliana had started working as soon as she could walk and had taken over the restaurant from her parents ten years ago, so I was sure she could read my lips as well. I thought about making the cloak turn into feathers and saw my friend's big eyes get even larger. The tavern fell silent again, and everyone turned to see my Alula shift into feathers. Then I halted the process, and the cape transformed back into simple-looking cloth.

The room erupted into applause, and I felt my cheeks heat again.

"Alright, alright!" Juliana shouted above the crowd and waved her arms in the air. "We are all proud of our girl. So let's celebrate! Next round is on me!" They cheered again, and the big blonde woman made an athletic leap over the counter to where the beer barrels were stored.

The crowd closed around me again, and someone handed me a stein of beer while another handed me a plate of food. We were near the slaughterhouses, and while Juliana couldn't afford to buy the choice cuts of meat, I'd grown to love the various ways she prepared offal.

"Having a good time, Sis?" My brother had made his way across the tavern. He had two pretty girls flanking him, and I saw each of his arms wrapped around a slender waist.

"Wonderful time. Thanks for the surprise." I smiled at him and then took a long swallow of the beer.

"It was mostly Juliana and Severa. I just had to get you here. They took care of everything else."

"Where is Severa?" I asked and sat up in my chair. I saw my red-headed friend on the other side of the room. The girl was in the middle of a drinking game, and our eyes connected. She raised a finger to show that she would come see me in a second and then laid a hand full of coins on the table. It looked like the party was about to get rowdy.

Then I saw a man enter the tavern. He was covered with blood and had a crazed look in his eyes.

He also carried a short sword in his hand.

"Help!" he screamed, but I had already set down my beer and threaded through the crowd toward him.

"Help!" he screamed again, and the tavern became quiet.

"What is the matter?" I spoke from behind a few of my friends, and they quickly parted to let me pass.

"Oh, thank the Priestesses. I never thought I would find a Potentia in this place."

"You are covered with blood and holding a sword. Please explain yourself, citizen." The words had been practiced so many times that they came naturally to my lips.

"There has been another murder," the man said with a shaking voice.

Chapter 4

"You are Anelia?" the woman's voice asked from behind me. I turned from the bloody corpse and saw the pair of blue-cloaked women standing in the entryway of the glassblower's shop.

"Yes," I had been studying a muddy scrape near the body, and I stood to face the two Potentia. They almost looked like twins. They were both tall, slender, and possessed sharp facial features. The pair even styled their hair similarly. Each wore a blonde mane long down their back, but each also had a thick braid that came down from in front of the left ear. I looked between their mirror images and noticed that the woman who had addressed me initially had a slightly lighter shade of platinum hair than the other Potentia.

"I am Iuna," she held her hand out to me, and our palms touched lightly.

"I am Tensia," said the one with the slightly darker shade of blonde hair.

"I guessed your identities. I also have a twin, but a brother." The women nodded at my words, and I felt stupid for saying them. The two sisters had worn their Alulas for over eight years and had refused promotions to captain in different nests so that they could continue to work together.

"This isn't your nest's territory, Anelia. Why are you here?" Iuna asked.

"I was eating at the tavern across the street. It is my favorite pub," I pointed behind them, and they turned to glance at Juliana's pink-painted restaurant, "and a man came in carrying a short sword. He was apprenticed to the glassblower."

"Have you questioned him?" Tensia asked. Neither of them displayed any emotion when they spoke, but I didn't get the feeling that they were angry with my presence here.

"Yes, would you like my report? Or do you want to question him yourselves? The guards have him in the next room."

"Tell us what you gathered," Iuna said.

"Aetius Colo was the name of the glassblower. I have met him a few times when he ate at Juliana's. His apprentice is Marco Demaris, who began working for Aetius six months ago. He was born on level eight, his parents are farmers, and he said he felt blessed to be accepted as Aetius' apprentice."

"You don't suspect him?" Tensia glanced at the closed door behind which Marco sat with the city guards.

"No. Marco was preparing dinner for his master when he heard the door to the shop open. He said it was unusual to have a customer come in so late, but he didn't think anything of it until he heard the arguing." I reached into the front pocket of my tunic and pulled out my compact notebook.

"Did he overhear the argument?" the sister with the lighter hair asked.

"Parts of it." I opened my notes so that I could read what I had written. "Whoever it was argued about a shipment of flasks. Aetius said that they weren't ready and that he hadn't paid him for the order and wouldn't be able to receive them when they were ready. The suspect said that Rafa was dead and that he needed the flasks or he would be next, at which point Marco said that the shouting escalated into screaming and he ran into the shop. He saw a large man, who wore a hooded cloak, crouching over his master's body. Marco claims that he grabbed the sword from his counter, struck the man with the blade, and chased him out the door. Then he tried to staunch his master's bleeding. When it became apparent that Aetius was dead from his injury, Marco ran out of the shop, heard the crowd inside Juliana's, and entered to seek help."

"Rafa sounds familiar," Tensia said.

"Rafa Manus is the name of a tavern owner who was murdered in my territory yesterday morning. My wingmate and I are the investigators on that case."

"Who is your wingmate?"

"Me," Fallon said as she stepped through the doorway of the glass shop. "Is my pigeon bothering you both? She's been a nuisance to me for the last twenty hours."

"Ahh, Fallon." Iuna turned to face the older woman, and both the twin sisters finally smiled. "It is good to see you."

"Good to see both of you as well." My square-faced wingmate smiled in return, and I was surprised by the difference the grin made to the woman's face. The three of them exchanged hand touches, and then Fallon fixed her angry blue eyes on me.

"Did the pigeon give you her report?" she asked.

"Yes. It sounds complete, but I will speak with the witness to ensure the accuracy." Iuna smiled at me and then turned to the door behind which Marco was being kept. "You three should discuss the murder connections while I am at this task."

"Pigeon, repeat your report," Fallon ordered, and I told her what I had said to the two sisters. My wingmate didn't acknowledge my words. Instead, she kneeled next to the body of Aetius and studied the wound on his neck.

"Is this murder similar to the case you are working on?" Tensia asked Fallon once I had finished speaking.

"We had some complications with the questioning yesterday, so I was unable to find out the exact circumstances of Rafa Manus' death. These wounds look similar though."

"They look like bite marks," I commented, and both of the women glanced between my face and the corpse. The wound was right at the glassblower's carotid artery, and the clay tiles of the room were stained with the man's blood.

"Why would a man bite another man? Idiot." Fallon sighed and stood up from the corpse. "Did you have any other observations?" she asked me, but then raised her hand to keep me from answering. "No, just don't say anything else. I'm already embarrassed enough."

My cheeks heated again, and the loaf-sized lump returned to my throat. I had wanted to tell her about the muddy mark I had found by the doorway, but it was obvious that Fallon didn't care. Perhaps I had been foolish to think that there would not be a hazing period during my term as a pigeon, but I would have never guessed that Fallon would despise me so much.

"The wound does not look to be made by a blade," Tensia said. "Perhaps a puncture weapon. Or maybe your pigeon is correct?"

"Have you ever heard of such a thing, Tensia?" Fallon smirked at the other woman and shook her head.

"No, but these are strange times. My sister and I haven't slept for three days because of the crime. It is fortunate that the Alula grants us fortitude."

"Anelia's account from the witness is valid," Iuna said as she emerged from the adjacent room.

"These are strange times indeed," Fallon shook her head and smirked at Tensia. "This is your nest; do you want our assistance with this case? I am only here because my pigeon sent the guard to fetch me."

"We wouldn't mind your help, Fallon," Tensia said, "But your nest has four times more crime than ours. I believe your captain would not appreciate you spending time here."

"That is correct," my wingmate sighed and glanced at me. "I will be returning to my apartment then." The woman nodded to the other two Potentia and then walked out of the glass shop.

"I'll see you in the morning?" I called after her, but the short-haired woman either didn't hear me or didn't care to answer. Her Alula unfurled as soon as she stepped into the open air, and the wings flapped a few times before she floated upward.

"Is it supposed to be like this with pigeons?" I asked the twins once Fallon had lifted away.

"What do you mean?"

"Fallon seems to not like me." I hesitated to tell the women my feelings, and regretted the admission as soon as the words left my mouth.

"It took her five years to warm up to us," Iuna shrugged. "I think she is treating you kindly. You are her wingmate after all."

"Okay, forget I said anything." I looked at the muddy mark by the doorway and then glanced at the door behind which the guards held Marco. "Do you mind if I ask the witness a few more questions?"

"If you wish. We will consult with the guards outside and see if any other citizen has come forth with information." They stepped out of the door and into the sunny street while I moved to the other room.

"Potentia," the guard said as he saluted me. Marco was where I had left him, sitting on his cot and crying into his hands. His master's blood was caked on his arms, and he trembled when he heard the guard announce my presence.

"I have a few more questions for you."

"Yes, Potentia," he said through a sob.

"The man who attacked your master, you said you couldn't tell his facial features because of his hood and the blood on his face?"

"Yes, ma'am. I really wish I had noticed more. My master was kind to me, and I want justice for his murder."

"I understand. When the killer ran from you, did he stumble on the ground?"

"I don't recall, ma'am, it could have happened." He shrugged and whimpered. I did feel sympathy for the young man. Not just because he had witnessed such a cruel fate for his master, but because it would mean the loss of opportunity. Marco's family came from level four of Petrasada. This apprenticeship might have been a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to climb the ranks of citizens into somewhat of a middle class. I understood his frustrations. I had felt the same way a few hours ago when I believed that I was about to be dismissed from the Potentia.

"Did your master keep an order log? Or some sort of accounting books?

"Yes, ma'am," he said as he wiped the snot from his nose with a blood-stained sleeve.

"Show me," I ordered, and Marco rose to his feet. He directed me back into the main room of the shop, where the body was, and then through another door behind the glass counter that displayed the glassware. This room was large and looked to be dug into the level wall of Petrasada. I saw dozens of sand bags, pots of dye, tables with blow sticks, a smoldering furnace, and a large desk made of clay. The apprentice directed me to the desk and then opened the large leather-bound journal lying on top.

"Can you point me to the record of Rafa Manus' order?" Part of my training had basic accounting work in case the Potentia had to intervene with tax collection, but I realized it was going to take me a few hours to make sense of Aetius' ledger.

"I am sorry, Potentia. My master was beginning to teach me to read, but my lessons aren't advanced enough to work on the accounting."

"Ahhh," I sighed and flipped through the thick bamboo pages of the book. It seemed like each page represented a week's worth of orders. I flipped past six of them and then noticed something off about the gutter of the journal. There was still some sunlight streaming in from the open doors of the workshop and front-sales rooms, but it looked as if the book had been manipulated.

"Bring a light over," I ordered, and the apprentice fetched a candle.

"A page has been cut out." I leaned in close to the book and pressed apart the pages more to view the gutter. It had been a careful slice, but there was still an eighth of an inch sunk deep into the dip between the other leaves of pressed bamboo sheet.

"That is very strange, ma'am. My master was meticulous about detail. You need to be with glass crafting, and he was one of the best in the city."

I nodded at Marco's words, even though I doubted that Aetius actually was the best in the city. There were artisans living in the higher echelons of Petrasada who created glassware of unequal beauty. I had seen their works when I visited the Priestess' temple and received my Alula.

"You've been employed for six months?" I asked.

"Yes, and a few days more."

"Can you think back to six weeks ago? Did anyone strange come and visit the store? Did anyone come back into this workshop?"

"No ma'am, but I often fetched components for my master and left the shop to do so."

"Where did Aetius sleep?"

"Upstairs. I will take you there." The blood-caked man pointed at a narrow stairway in the far corner of the workspace, and I walked up to the second floor.

Aetius' living quarters were simple and consisted of a small bed, chest of drawers, and wardrobe. I took a few steps into the middle of the room and then spun around slowly to get a feel for the space. There was a single window in the room, and light from the two suns cut through the thin yellow curtains as if it was a midday haze.

"Guard!" I yelled down the stairs, and Marco jumped with surprise. Within six seconds, one of the Petrasada's guards poked his head into the room.

"Yes, Potentia?" The man wore a close-cut beard and a gleaming helmet. The helmet had a diamond shape etched on the dome of the metal to represent the city and the floating rock it was built upon.

"Escort Marco Demaris back to his room. I will return to you after I have investigated this space."

"Yes, Potentia." The guard saluted and motioned for the apprentice to follow him.

As soon as the two men had left, I moved to the bed. I searched the pillow, under the straw mattress, and around the edges of the bamboo frame. I didn't find anything, but I wasn't discouraged. Growing up in an orphanage and sharing a room with more than a dozen other children meant that I had to be very good at hiding my personal things; especially with a brother constantly looking to steal any money, or candy, that I might earn.

The clay wardrobe also concealed no secrets, and I made sure to pry apart each of the pockets on the dead man's pants and coats. Finally, I turned to the chest of drawers and pulled the top drawer out of the slot the entire length before I felt underneath the bamboo panel at the bottom.

My fingers found a single piece of paper stuck to the underside of the drawer, and I almost shrieked with delight. Then I realized that I was a Potentia now, and I wasn't supposed to get giddy when I found a clue. Still, I couldn't help but pull away the piece of paper with nervous hands and glance around the empty room another time to ensure that I was alone.

The paper was definitely the missing page from the ledger book. There were only four lines written:

200 spot flasks due to Rafa Manus. Payment due. Hold with Garon Mitus.

100 spot flasks due to Pruet Carna. Payment due. Hold with Garon Mitus.

150 tall flasks due to Damara Trillion. Payment received. Flasks delivered.

200 tall flasks due to Laramae A. Payment received. Hold with Dust.

"Hmmm," I pulled out my own notebook and charcoal pencil to copy the ledger. A significant part of our training was spent memorizing. Every day, Potentia trainees were required to enter a room, spend a minute inside, and then leave for ten minutes. Afterward, they would be quizzed on the contents and layout of the room. Oftentimes, we would be told to draw the position of a mock body and note where there were painted-on wounds. It was one of the few exercises that I performed above average, and I had no doubt that I would remember these four lines of ledger entry a year from now.

I put my notebook and pencil back in my pocket and raised the original paper to the sunlight. I knew Rafa Manus, and the dead man wouldn't be able to tell me anything about his flask order. Pruet, Damara, and Laramae were unknown names, but that would be rectified easily once I made it back to the nest. We had access to naming records and could cross reference with other nests if needed. The name Dust was also unknown, but perhaps one of my sisters had heard something.

That just left Garon Mitus, and the name sounded more than a little familiar.

I walked down the stairs and found a pair of city guards waiting for me. They saluted as soon as we made eye contact, and I nodded to them.

"Potentia Iuna and Potentia Tensia have finished their investigation and instructed us to begin the clean up as soon as you give us the order." The male on the right spoke; his beard was a bit longer than the other man's.

"I want to look at the front room once more," I said, and then I walked past them.

The spot of mud by the door looked like it could have been made by the toe of a boot as it kicked the edge of the threshold. The color was a bit strange. Instead of the ruddy color of most clay on the lower levels, it had a spinach-green hue. The color also seemed familiar to me, but my nervous brain couldn't remember where I had seen the shade before.

"I am finished. You can clean this place now and then alert the Priestesses to the death so they can begin the inheritance process," I said.

"Yes, ma'am," the helmeted men said. I nodded to them and walked out the door.

The crowd was still standing around the shop, but a perimeter of eight city guards kept them at a good distance. Most of my friends seemed to have gone back into Juliana's, and I considered returning there.

My mind was spinning with the clues of this new murder, and I walked across the street to the aqueducts. The tiled streams of water emerged from the Apa Pool at the highest point of the city. They trickled, cascaded, and poured down forty-five paths until they either pooled at the base level of the city or fell off the edge and vaporized before reaching the desert floor a mile below us. The water coalesced into a whirlpool-type fountain about fifty yards from the front door of Juliana's restaurant, and then it continued on its course to the Turus Pond at the bottom of the city.

I cupped some of the cold liquid in my hand and splashed it on my face. I repeated the motion a few more times before I took a drink. It was forbidden to defile the water with excrement or poison, or even to drink directly from the flow of water. Citizens had to either use a ladle to scoop the water into a container or ask one of the standing guards to inspect their container for cleanliness before dipping it into the pool. The laws were strict, and anyone caught breaking them faced exile from the city.

Exile meant being thrown from the base level toward the hanging chains, but I didn't think the nearby guard would question me, and my hands were clean.

"Rough first day?" A woman's voice asked from behind me, and I spun to see my friend Severa standing there. The woman was petite, but her curly red hair sprang from her scalp like a tumbleweed, and the wild mane made her seem twice her size.

"It didn't go as I expected." I opened my arms and embraced the girl like I had thousands of times before.

"You know it is illegal to drink outside of restaurants?" I pointed to the large pint of beer in my best friend's hand.

"Yep. Are you going to arrest me?" She raised an eyebrow, wiggled her freckled nose, and then took a long gulp of the gold-colored liquid.

"No, but there is a water guard standing not even forty feet from us." I tried not to laugh at my friend's bravado. Sometimes she was almost as bad as my brother.

"Eeeeeeh. He just watched you dip your hand into the Apa. He's not interested in picking a fight with you today." She took another sip of her beer and gave me a knowing smirk.

"You are such a pain in the ass." I couldn't hold back the laughter anymore.

"Of course! Sorry I was busy earlier, that basehead Miraton challenged me to a game of Drink. I thought we would have been done before your brother brought you to us." She shrugged and then took another sip of beer. My red-headed friend had never lost a round of Drink, and I'd seen her play the game against grizzled ranchers who were three times her size.

"I did get called away for Potentia work, so don't worry about missing me."

"But you are done now?" The woman looked up at each of the suns and then tilted her head. "It has to be an hour or two past midnight. Juliana will probably want to close soon, but I'd bet my left nipple she'd keep it open so that you and I could have a few more rounds."

"I was actually about to find you. Does the name Garon Mitus sound familiar?"

"Hmmmmm," she said and wiggled her lips back and forth. It was as if her mouth was searching for the edge of her pint glass. "Damn, it does sound familiar. It is on the dark part of my brain and won't come into the suns. Oh! I know!"

"You do?" I asked.

"No, but a sip of beer won't hurt my memory!" the woman laughed and then drained the rest of the mug with an easy swallow.

"If only all my cases could be solved by drinking," I said to the shorter woman.

"Can you give me anything else? Or is it secret Potentia knowledge? Do you think that man killed poor Aetius?"

"I'm not sure. There was green-colored mud by the doorway, and I found the man's name noted in an account ledger hidden in Aetius' room."

"I have it!" The red-headed girl smacked her palm to her head and then laughed. "Garon Mitus is the wharf steward and shipwright for Ver Lake!"

"And Ver Lake has green mud. You are a genius!"

"No, no, no, my dear, dear Anelia. I am no genius. It is all the beer's doing." She pointed at her empty glass and let out a roar of a burp. The water guard turned from his post to glare at my friend, but when he saw me glance in his direction, he quickly faced away.

"I need to go speak with him. We met him four or five years ago, correct?" It was probably a dumb question to ask since she was obviously many steps past drunkenness, but Severa had just remembered Garon, so I wanted to test my luck again.

"Five years ago. We snuck into his son's wedding. Remember?"

"Ahhh, yes. That was incredibly stupid of me." I shook my head. "I shouldn't have let you and Vibus convince me to go along."

"Remember when he found out we weren't invited? He threw your brother into the lake by his neck, and he yanked my hair so hard I cried."

"Yes, I recall now." I nodded and sighed. We had been in the wrong and shouldn't have stolen the man's food or drank his beer. Even if there were over a hundred people at his son's wedding and plenty to go around.

"You should arrest him." Severa's eyes narrowed, and I could tell that she was remembering when the man had yanked on her bushy red hair. "Arrest him for being a bag of donkey shit."

"I can't just go around arresting people who were mean to me five years ago. I'm lucky he didn't report us to the city guards or I wouldn't have been able to wear the Alula."

"But you think he murdered Aetius, so you have to talk with him?" My friend curled her freckled nose and then ground her empty glass into her hand. Her mouth spread into an evil smile, and I tried not to chuckle.

"I'm supposed to be impartial. I just want to ask him some questions."

"So go have your Potentia talk with him, ask him your questions, arrest him, and then get a promotion from your commander."

"Captain," I said to correct her.

"Captain, yes, whatever, and then come back and drink with me. Should take you an hour? Ver Lake is on the other side of the city. Just flap those pretty new wings of yours and get going. We need to celebrate the start of your career, and me drinking alone isn't lucky." Severa winked at me when she finished talking, and I laughed again.

"Thanks for the pep talk. I'll get to work."

"And then drink?"

"And then drink," I confirmed.

"Great, let's see that Alula work. I missed it earlier. I'm proud of you."

I nodded at my friend and felt the cloth of my cloak begin to unravel. Then the wings flapped behind me, and I was lifting into the air. My friend's red hair twitched against the wind created by my ascent, and soon she was just a bright dot far below me.

Then she was lost amongst all the brightly painted clay buildings of the lower Petrasada levels.

I turned my body toward the north and leaned forward. The magical wings understood what I wanted, and I began to fly toward the shores of Ver Lake.

Chapter 5

"Hello?" I called into the empty shipyard.

I had visited Ver Lake half a dozen times in my life, but I had never seen the wharf area empty of citizens. It was after midnight, however, and the suns hung close to their lowest point in the sky. Most of the fishers, mud collectors, and aqua farmers were probably sleeping.

I stepped past the bamboo fence and walked by a worn fishing raft. The vessel looked as if it had seen better days thirty years ago and now someone just needed to put it out of its misery. Most of the small boats in the yard looked that way. It was a scattering of forgotten toys left to bake in the suns by an unorganized child.

I opened my mouth to call out again, but then I realized that there was either no one there or they hadn't heard me the first time. I saw a large building on the far corner of the yard, and its walls were made of stone brick instead of the usual clay. It was a place that the shipwrights could work on their vessels out of the heat of the sun, and I figured that Garon Mitus might be inside.

I gently opened the side door to the building and slid into the large shadowed space. My eyes took a few moments to adjust to the relative darkness, but, once they did, I saw that the base of the building was cut downward into a series of steps that formed a trench. Inside the pit squatted three vessels in various stages of construction. One looked as if it was only waiting for a mast, one looked as if it needed the top deck nailed on, and the last one looked like a dead bird, with its bamboo ribs protruding into the air.

My nose was assaulted by the scents of plant glue, paints, and bamboo clippings. It wasn't an unpleasant smell, but I had not spent much of my life around the lakes at the base level, and the scents were alien to me.

I saw that one end of the dark building was filled with work benches, tools, and a legion of stacked crates. There were too many of the boxes to count, and I guessed that the reason Aetius' ledger had indicated to 'hold with Garon Mitus' was because of the vastness of the wharf manager's storage space. I noticed a raised stairway at the far end, past the crates, and I guessed that it would be Garon's office.

"You need to take care of these issues," a voice said in the distance. I had reached the first stack of crates in the building, and I crouched behind them reactively.

"I wouldn't call them issues. They are just complications," another voice said. It sounded as if they were speaking on the far side of the crates by the foot of the stairs. I took a nervous breath before I moved to the corner of the next closest crate stack.

"Two of mine are dead. It isn't a complication," the first voice said.

"What is yours is mine. Without the money, this endeavor would not have left the ground."

"Without my connections, you'd have to get your bits and pieces from more obvious sources. Does this assassin work for you? Am I going to be next on his list?"

"No and no. I am working on finding him. Do not worry." The second voice was lower in timbre than the first, and I stepped silently to the next stack of crates. My heart drummed in my chest and beat in my ears almost louder than the sound of the two men's voices.

"It is hard not to worry when my partners are being removed. Aetius already fulfilled his role, so the plan won't be harmed, but I will need to find a new distributor because of Rafa's death," the first voice said.

"I am working on that. Stay the course."

"Simple for you to say. Whoever the assassin is, he knows our operation. It is one of your people." I guessed that the first voice was Garon's, and I moved to the next stack of crates. It sounded as if they were only a few more rows over from my position.

"That is doubtful," said the unknown voice.

"We are the only two who are--"

"You do not know the full plans. You play a very small role in this world. Do not forget that. I will find the murderer and kill them, and then you can continue to collect my money while you do very little work. Am I clear?" The second voice had cut off Garon, and his words were almost venomous.

"Yes. Fine. Now get out of here. My workers will arrive in a few hours, and I need to fill these flasks with the product," Garon said in a surprisingly calm voice. "It takes forever to do this because you won't let me hire anyone, and I can't get the shit on my skin."

I'd heard enough of the conversation to feel as if I could apprehend both men. My stomach did a dive when I realized that I was about to make my first actual arrest, but I took a deep breath to calm my nerves before I walked to the end of the crates.

"You are both under arrest," I said when I stepped out from behind the last stack of boxes. Both men turned in surprise, and I pulled my shoulders back so that I stood taller.

Garon Mitus looked as I recalled from our brief introduction five years ago. He was a large man with dark leathery skin and hands as big as my face. His hair was filled with more gray than I recalled, but it had been many years, and I wasn't surprised that he looked older. The shipwright wore a muddy tunic under a surprisingly clean white apron. The other man stood tall and lean and had a face full of wrinkles. His hair was also gray, but it flowed as long as mine, and he wore it tied back in a ponytail. His clothes were strange. They were the thin type of garments that a citizen of the lower base levels would wear, but his pants were very clean, and his tunic was dark blue. My eyes focused on his shirt, and I knew immediately that the man came from the upper levels. His garments may be thin, but blue was an expensive clothes dye, and I'd only seen a handful of citizens ever wear the color.

"Potentia bitch!" the man with the long hair screamed.

Garon's tan face turned as white as bleached clay, but the other man pulled a thin saber from his belt. The weapon's blade was etched with designs, and its decorations confirmed my suspicion that the suspect was from one of the upper levels of Petrasada.

"Put down your weapon and come peacefully. I will not ask again." The words that came out of my mouth sounded as if someone else spoke them. They sounded firm and not terrified at all. I just hoped that the men wouldn't see my legs shaking.

The older man didn't answer, but his eyes hardened. I knew he would attack half a second before he dashed toward me with his sword raised, and I'd already drawn my own rapier.

Our swords connected with a sharp shriek of metal, and I was surprised by the strength in the older man's arm. I rotated my right wrist to wrap the thin edge of my blade around his arm, but my opponent guessed at my intent, and he brought his hilt down to keep me from shifting my weapon.

We parted, and the long-haired man took up a practiced fencing stance. It was a graceful pose that hinted at dozens of years of training. His eyes were a hard gray, and there wasn't a trace of fear in the focused orbs. The rancher I had fought yesterday had been unskilled, uneducated, and had carried a dull knife. This man was ready to kill me so that I couldn't arrest him, and he probably possessed the skills to do so.

Shit.

I should have spent a thousand more hours training my sword work. I should have gotten Fallon before chasing this lead. I should have just called the guards and then returned here to arrest Garon. He would have told me who the other man was when we questioned him.

Now I was going to be cut to ribbons on my second day of wearing the Alula.

The long-haired man thrust forward with the point of his saber, and my arm shifted to block it without my mind sensing the movement. It felt as if every muscle in my body fought against a heavy weight. I realized that I would definitely die if I didn't remember my training and relax my mind. The wrinkled man's attack was quick, but I'd fenced against the best trainers of the Potentia academy. Of course, I'd lost to them every time, but they were dozens of times faster than my current opponent.

He slid his sword away from my parry and tried to poke the tip past my arm. I shuffled back a step to counter the thrust, and then I pushed forward when his blade had cleared. I aimed the point of my rapier at the bicep muscle of his sword arm, but the man guessed my intention and flicked his weapon into the path. The movement left him exposed on his left side, so I yanked back my rapier before I thrust it again at his chest.

The opening had been a feint, and, as soon as my blade dove toward his blue shirt, he stepped around the side of my thrust and elbowed me in the face.

Stars exploded across my vision, and I tumbled against the stack of crates next to us. My spin caused my left arm to smash through one of the thin bamboo boxes, and it sunk into a thick bundle of straw. I swung out my right arm in the hope that I could catch the man with the edge of my blade. It was a useless movement though, and my sword passed through empty air.

"I thought Potentia would have been better fencers," the man sneered, and my vision cleared in time to see him shuffle toward me. My left hand closed around something made of glass, and I yanked it from of the crate before my long-haired opponent could stab me. I somehow blocked his thrust with my rapier, but my parry was a fraction of a second too slow, and the edge of his saber sliced open the side of my right forearm.

"First blood," he said through long white teeth. I saw Garon standing behind the man, and the shipwright's face was a portrait of terror. He probably didn't know if he should flee or help his partner. I imagined that most citizens didn't want the blood of a Potentia on their hands, but my opponent seemed to be enjoying the opportunity.

"Last face," I said as I hurled the flask in my hand at the long-haired man.

One of the many games we played in the orphanage involved throwing stones at the painted sides of various clay homes. It was a physical activity that I was actually talented at, and the kids had eventually forced me to use only my left arm for throwing. The years of practice had paid off, and the glass container smashed into the long-haired man's wrinkled nose.

"Ahhhhh!" he screamed when the glass broke, and he brought his free hand to his eyes. There had been a light pink-colored liquid in the flask, and most of it was now covering the man's face.

"Ahhhh! Nooooo!" he screamed again and then dropped his saber to the ground. I sprang toward him and kicked the hilt of his sword away from where he had dropped it. I was about to put the point of my own weapon to the man's chest and demand that he surrender, but the long-haired fencer fell to the ground with a screech that made the hairs of my nose stand to attention.

His face was melting. Or smoking. Or something that sounded painful and was producing a nauseating stench of cooking meat.

"Don't move," I pointed my sword at Garon. Even though I was a good forty feet away from the shipwright, he stopped his slow walk backward.

"What was in that vial?" I shouted over the screams of the man.

"I don't know! He gave me the liquid, and I just poured it into the glass." Garon waved his hands toward me and shook like a terrified bird.

"Kneel on the ground." I stepped around the thrashing body of the man I'd just fought and took a few steps toward the shipwright. Blood dripped from the cut on my arm, but the thrill of combat prevented me feeling any pain from the wound. My hand was working, so I figured the injury wasn't that severe.

The shipwright followed my orders, and I debated what to do. I had two pairs of steel handcuffs in one of my belt pouches, but I didn't really want to touch the man who was writhing on the ground. I'd probably have to cuff Garon and then return once I'd found guards to secure the shipyard.

"You are under arrest," I said as I pulled a pair of cuffs from my belt. They were thin bindings and embedded with magic that prevented them from unlocking unless a Potentia willed it. I sheathed my rapier with an easy movement and then grabbed the man's left wrist. It wasn't the same as solving my first case, but a first arrest would be an excellent achievement on my second day.

Then I saw movement out of the corner of my eye.

I dropped to the brick floor of the building and rolled to my left as a dozen arrows attempted to penetrate my leather armor. The metal heads of the bolts bounced off the floor like a quick tap of a snare drum, and I didn't stop rolling until I'd found a spot under the stairs that led to the office.

Garon was dead; his body lay on the brick, and an arrow protruded from his skull. I saw four figures wearing black clothing dash from the maze of stacked crates, and each one held a short bow in their hands. I couldn't see their faces because of the black wrapping, but it was obvious that they were angling toward a spot that would let them aim under my cover.

"Shit," I said as I put the handcuffs back in my pouch and tried to figure a way out of the spot. My back was against the wall of the building, to my left were the stairs, in front of me were the bodies of the two men and the open space between the crates, and to my right was an even cleaner line for the archers to target me. I really needed to be on the top side of the stairs, but that would entail me running out into the open and risk getting filled with arrowheads.

Or maybe not.

I looked above me and saw the edge of the walkway that led to the office door. It was about ten feet above the ground and would have been impossible for me to reach on my own. I made the leap anyway and prayed to the Priestesses that my inexperience with my Alula wouldn't mean the end of my life.

I felt my cloak shift within a fraction of a second, and a sudden boost of wind carried my arms through the empty air above me. My gloved hands grabbed the bottom lip of the walkway, and I twisted my body around like I had once seen a Petrasada acrobat do with a bar. I spun upward with my feet pointed at the ceiling, and then let go before my legs smacked into the bamboo railing of the pathway.

Then I tumbled up into the air like a lobbed stone. The strings of my new attackers' bows snapped, and I heard the arrows sink into the bamboo below me. I continued my flip through the air and felt myself pause at the apex of my maneuver. Then I started to fall back to the ground. My wings spread out to my sides and flexed their feathers, and I landed right in front of the doorway.

I had little time to celebrate my feat of gymnastics. A fifth attacker had appeared below me. He was also garbed in dark clothing and had his face concealed. Instead of a bow, the man carried what appeared to be a flintlock shotgun, and he pointed the open end of the weapon at me.

I dove backward through the door as I heard the firearm discharge. The bamboo shattered into a dozen pieces when I plowed through it, and the ceiling above me disintegrated into sand before I'd even fallen on my cloak.

I rolled to my feet and assessed the room. There was a bed, a desk, and a chest of drawers, but the far window grabbed my attention. I hated to run from this crime scene, but I understood my combat prowess enough to know that I had gotten lucky with the long-haired man earlier. Facing four archers and a man with a flintlock blunderbuss was suicide.

I could hear them running up the stairs outside the door, and I made my decision. The window was closed, but the glass looked thin, and I dove through it with a leaping two-foot kick. The glass shattered around my boots, the frame tore loose from the brick, and I was suddenly falling toward the clay of the shipyard.

My cloak opened before I smashed into the ground, and I made it twist against the air. The wings responded to my thoughts, and my body stretched out horizontal. I swooped over the shipyard dirt like a hawk and missed the top deck of a discarded boat by a few inches.

Then I was over Ver Lake and fifty feet in the air.

I turned around in the sky and positioned my body vertically while the Alula flapped against my back. I could hover there all day, but I needed to go get my sisters. The nearest nest was a few miles closer to the stairs that led to the second level of Petrasada, and it would probably take me twenty minutes to get there, report to the captain, and return with help. In that time, all the evidence of my battle might be expunged, but I doubted that the crates would be removed. We could study whatever was in the flasks and figure out what Garon had been working on.

I saw the man with the flintlock shotgun poke his head out of the office window. He was a few hundred yards away at a downward angle, and I guessed that his weapon would not be able to hit me. The assassin must have come to the same conclusion, so he climbed out of the window and up the face of the brick building and then stood on the roof. He didn't have his blunderbuss in his hand, and I wondered if I could glide down to arrest him.

The man made a strange gesture with his arms, almost as if he was waving them to his sides. Then he pulled them to his chest as if he was struggling to carry a heavy ball of stone. A bright light seemed to fold in on itself, and it exploded into a tunnel of coruscating colors. The rainbow of energy flew out toward me like a spray of water. I tried to force my wings to dodge. I tried to twist my body aside. I even thought about dropping, but the magic moved too fast, and I hadn't expected it.

Men weren't able to use magic.

The power slammed into me like a mule kick, and I felt my world start to spin. My vision became a kaleidoscope of blue sky, green water, and the colorful dots of the distant dwellings. I was falling, and my cloak wasn't working to pull me out of my plummet. My chest hurt so bad that I couldn't breathe, and my mouth opened in a silent scream.

Then I hit the green water of Ver Lake.

Chapter 6

My brother called them 'cattails.' They were reed-like plants that grew on the banks of muddy lakes and ponds. The grass had bunched groupings of seeds at the high end of the tall stalks, and they came apart in my hand as I used the bunched strands to pull my aching body out of the water.

"Shit," I said before I fell face first into the mud. Then I forced myself to crawl another few feet until I got too tired and had to lie back down. My cheek pressed against the cold mire, and I shivered a bit from the chill.

"Shit," I moaned again, and I tried to recall the exact movements that the man had made on the roof top.

I'd seen senior, aged Potentia and Priestesses use magic to start a fire, to make wind gust, or even to move objects around the room, but I had never seen magic like that man used. I knew it was possible since my sister trainees and I had been taught that the Apa gave the Priestesses the magic that was also imbued in our cloaks. I would develop the same powers once I had worn the magical wings for many years.

Men were not supposed to have the same abilities. Yet the black-clothed figure who had carried the shotgun and blasted me with power was definitely a man.

Did they work with Garon? Then why did they kill the wharf manager? Was that an accident? Did they not want him telling me about the work he was doing with the long-haired man? Were they a separate organization? The questions rolled through my head while I coughed up a stomach full of lake water onto the green mud.

"She swam over this way!" I heard a woman shout. The voice sounded as if it was still somewhat far away, and I poked my eyes above the waving cattails.

Two of the black-garbed archers walked through the reeds some sixty yards from me. I happened to peer over the reeds when both of their heads were turned away, and I dove back into the mud before I thought they spied me. Of course, they would want to make sure I was dead. Whatever meeting I had stumbled into seemed to be a massive conspiracy, and I didn't even know how to untangle its meaning. I would need to get Captain Ocellina involved.

I needed to escape first.

I thought about sliding back into the water, diving to its depths, and trying to come up in another spot. Ver Lake was eight thousand feet across at its narrowest, and there was no way they would be able to shoot me with their arrows from that range. I also doubted that the magic would reach me that far away, and I could safely fly to the closest nest. It could be an option, but I quickly threw aside the idea. I was a terrible swimmer and counted myself beyond lucky that I'd not only survived the magical blast, but had somehow been able to get to the shore without drowning. I also thought that the two archers would see me crawl back into the lake, and I would have no cover of reeds to hide me. Sure, there was the water, but I doubted that I could dive deep enough to keep the arrows out of my back.

That left me the options of sneaking around them through the reeds, attacking them, or trying to fly away. All three choices were poor, and I chided myself again for coming here alone. I should have at least brought an entourage of city guards.

"Look for the cloak!" a male voice yelled. He sounded slightly farther away, and I realized that they must have seen me dog paddle to the edge of the lake and were searching along this side.

The voice was correct. My Alula was pale blue and would be easy to see against the green and brown reeds. The magical cloak never got dirty, and I couldn't cover it up with mud to conceal the color. I glanced back at the cloth, and an idea sprang into my head.

The plan was risky, but I was desperate, and I didn't think I would live for another five minutes if I didn't get creative. I reached up and unlatched the clasp that held the light-blue cape. Then I laid it upon the mud and crawled a few feet away from the garment. There was a slight break in the reeds, and I rolled around in the mire there until I was even more covered with the green sludge. It ran through my hair and over my face, and I even felt the slimy stuff in my undergarments.

Then I pulled out my short knife.

It was less of a weapon and more of a tool, but the five-inch blade was honed to a keen edge. If I managed to surprise both of my pursuers at close range, I might be able to kill them before they could turn their bows on me. The plan felt like my only option, and I tried to take some slow breaths while I waited for them to take my bait.

The sound of sucking footsteps grew closer, and I commanded my heart to slow its racing. My orders didn't work though, and I quickly turned to pleading. It still ignored me, and I felt the hand that held my knife start to shake. Shit, I wasn't ready for this. Within the first two days of my time as a Potentia, I'd killed two people, and now I intended to murder two more. Most Potentia never killed anyone, and I guessed I would set a record within the sisterhood if I escaped the shores of the lake.

The footsteps got closer. They sounded as if they were right next to me, but I didn't want to risk movement, or my attackers might notice my position. Maybe it didn't matter, as I was shaking so much now from my dread that I knew they would see my body if their eyes moved this way.

"There!" I heard a voice next to me shout a second before bowstrings twanged. It took every ounce of my willpower not to jump up, or move, or scream, and I kept the air trapped in my mouth.

The arrows snapped into the blue cloak lying ten feet away from me.

The black-garbed archers ran past and slid to a halt next to my Alula. I jumped to my feet behind the closest one and slammed my knife into the side of his neck. He dropped his bow with a gurgle of surprise, and then I tore the edge of the blade through his esophagus before I stepped to the woman. She had been staring at my discarded cloak, and I couldn't tell if she was surprised that I had duped her with the decoy or if she was surprised that I had just killed her partner. Either way, she didn't have another arrow nocked, and my knife punched through her ribs and into her heart.

Just as I had been trained to do.

My training hadn't prepared me for fighting in the mud though, and my attack made me tilt off balance. My legs slipped within the sludge, my hands tried to find leverage against the woman's twitching body, and we both tumbled into the stinky green mire. I lay there for a few seconds to catch my breath, and then I pushed the woman's corpse off me.

I yanked the arrows out of my cloak and clasped it back around my shoulders. The cloth was supposed to heal itself, but I hadn't thought I would test the magic this early in my career. I took the woman's bow and tested the pull of the string. It was a bit too light for my taste, so I grabbed the man's. It was also too light, but it would work well enough for me to defend myself. Then I grabbed a handful of arrows with my right hand and nocked one onto the string of the weapon.

I peeked over the heads of the cattails and saw the other two black-clad archers a hundred yards from me. They were looking in my direction, and I ducked back under the cover of the reeds a second before their arrows flew over my head.

I stood with my newly acquired bow ready and shot at one of the men. Growing up playing the throwing game had made me a quick study with the bow, so I wasn't too surprised when my arrow found the man's stomach. I ducked down below the cattails before I saw if he had fallen, but his scream sounded horrific.

I crawled on my knees for a few dozen yards and wondered if the last archer was doing the same. Once I felt I'd moved far enough from my earlier position, I nocked another arrow and steadied myself with a slow breath. Then I sprang to my feet and swept my bow across the tops of the reeds. The man wasn't where I thought he would be, but I saw his movement out of the corner of my left eye. I angled my body away from him, turned my bow, and let loose the arrow without actually aiming. His own weapon twanged a half a second before mine, and I felt the fletching blow past my ear.

My own missile also flew wide, and the two of us stared at each other for a quarter of a second before we realized that we needed arrows in our bows if we wanted to kill each other. The man had his arrows in a quiver at his side, and his fingers fumbled with the ends. I carried my arrows in my right hand, and, even though my arms were trembling, I was quicker than my opponent and had my bow drawn before he had nocked his arrow. My shot flew true this time, and the shaft pierced his skull between the eyes.

"Shit," I cursed. The exchange had happened so fast. I should have asked the man to surrender when it was obvious that I held the upper hand in combat. Then again, I doubted Captain Ocellina would reprimand me for defending myself. She would be angry that I had gotten myself into this mess in the first place, but not about a split-second decision that saved my life.

I placed another arrow against the string and glanced around the shore. I was confident that these were the same four archers who had attacked me at the shipyard, but I didn't see the magic-using assassin. I guessed that he was back at the building.

I ran to where the body of the man I had just shot lay. He was dead, and I found no money or identification on his body. His face looked tan, so I wondered if he worked on one of the base levels.

I walked over to the third assassin and cursed when I saw his dead body. The arrow in his stomach shouldn't have killed him that quickly, but he had a dagger in his lifeless hand, and his throat was still gushing blood. Whoever these people were, they seemed committed to their quest to keep me from capturing any of them alive.

I grabbed a few more arrows from the dead man's quiver and walked back toward the shipyard. I'd gone from feeling like a caged chicken to a hawk in just a few moments, and I didn't want to bring my sisters back here unless I had someone alive. I might not be able to capture the fifth man, but I didn't want him to escape. I could just imagine the look on Fallon's eyes if I told her that a man had used impossible magic to knock me out of the air.

The shipyard fence stood five hundred yards further along the shore, but the bamboo barrier prevented me from seeing anything other than the top quarter of the main building. There were no enemies on this side of the fence, so I crept across the remaining few dozen yards of mud and then picked up to a run when the ground began to turn into hard dirt.

I reached the bamboo wall and listened. I heard no noises on the other side, so I slung the bow over my shoulder, put the arrows through my belt, and used my Alula to jump up the side of the fence. My gloved fingers hooked onto the sides, and I pulled my head over the ledge for a peek into the home of the discarded boats.

There were dozens of black-garbed men running out of the building. Each carried a bamboo crate on his shoulder and had to lean under the weight of the box. They were exiting the main entrance of the building, which faced south, and I viewed them at a north-easterly angle. They seemed to make a right as soon as they exited the doors, and I couldn't see their final destination.

I guessed that the men were loading the crates onto a cart on the west side of the building, and I was about to drop back to the ground so that I could circle the fence when I saw the man with the shotgun exit the building with six other black-wearing assassins. I could compare their heights, and I realized that the man was much taller than those standing next to him. His torso was incredibly broad. He held the blunderbuss over his left shoulder and pointed his other hand toward the north side of the building.

"They haven't returned with news of the Potentia's death. Go find them." His voice was dark and sounded larger than his body.

The other men nodded and reached for flintlock pistols at their belts. My eyes focused on each man's weapon, and my heart raced again. Who were these people? A single pistol would have cost me four month's pay, and that wasn't even factoring in the cost of the expensive mining powder and the lead bullets.

I dropped down and retreated from the edge of the fence. There were too many of them now, and they carried guns. I needed my sisters, but first I needed to get enough space between the shipyard and my planned ascent. I started running and didn't stop until my lungs screamed and my legs shouted for a rest. A glance over my shoulder confirmed that I was over half a mile away, and I doubted that any magic or bullets could reach me.

My cloak spread out behind me, and I saw the cloth begin to turn into feathers around my shoulders. Then I leapt from the ground and let the magic pull me into the air. I spared another look toward the shipyard, but the black-garbed figures were smaller than ants.

It would be a few minutes before I would make it to the nearest nest, and then a few minutes before I could explain what had happened. I felt frustration blossom in my chest, and I prayed to the Priestesses that I would return with more Potentia before the shipyard was cleared of evidence.

I flew toward the nearest nest and repeated the prayer like a mantra.

Chapter 7

"And the man used magic?" Ocellina asked for the third time.

"Yes, ma'am," I said again with a nod.

"Was that before or after he shot you with the blunderbuss?" Fallon sneered, "or after you said you killed the four archers with your knife?"

"Two with the knife and then two with the bow. I know that what I am saying seems farfetched, but that is what happened."

"I believe you, Anelia, but we have no evidence to open an investigation." The beautiful ebony-haired captain gestured around the empty interior of the shipyard building. Besides the boats sitting in the trench on the other side of the building, there were no crates, no glass vials, no dead bodies, and no blood on any part of the brick floor.

"They must have cleaned it all up and moved the crates. It took us almost half of an hour to return."

"You said you jumped out of the office window. That window isn't broken, and there is no glass anywhere inside the office or outside on the floor of the shipyard. Did they replace the glass and frame in thirty minutes?" Fallon asked. I had sent guards to bring Ocellina and Fallon, but they arrived almost an hour after I'd stormed the empty shipyard with Captain Titiana and four of her Potentia.

"My nest has searched the banks of the Ver Lake and found no bodies, or blood, or arrows." I hadn't heard Titiana walk up from behind me, and I almost jumped at her words.

"Thank you for searching." Ocellina nodded at the other captain. Titiana also had black silky hair, but she wore it cut as short as a man's. The woman was also shorter than my captain, but her brown eyes held the same fierce intelligence. It also looked as if the woman had never once smiled in her life.

I guessed that she and Fallon got along just fine.

"Sisters, I did not make up this tale." I felt my heart slam into the back of my rib cage. "Why would I just jump into the lake and invent this story? I wish I still had the injury on my arm as proof, but all I have are my muddy garments, the cut sleeve, and the bow that I obtained." The two captains showed no emotion when I spoke, but my wingmate looked as if she was chewing on glass. The cut that the long-haired man had made on my arm had healed as I flew toward Captain Titiana's nest, and I'd marveled at the power of my Alula. My wound was minor, but it would have probably taken me a month or two to scar over before I donned the magical garment.

"There is other proof to your story, pigeon." Titiana didn't smile, but there was a flash of laughter in her eyes that made me think she wasn't quite the hardass that I'd guessed. "The ceiling of the office was damaged by buckshot; we found some of the lead embedded in the brick. But even if we had not found that, I would have still believed you because you are Potentia." As soon as the words left her mouth, I felt my heart relax from its sprint. The imagined weight on my shoulders lifted, and I filled my lungs without despair.

"If the pigeon's story is true, then how did these black-garbed citizens escape with the crates?" Fallon crossed her arms and continued to glare at me.

"That is a good question, Fallon, since there are no wagon tracks in the dirt. I'm sure that you and Anelia will have an answer for Captain Titiana and me before lunch." Ocellina's mouth curled into a half smirk, and I saw Fallon's hands tighten around her biceps.

"Yes, ma'am," Fallon said. "Leave it to us."

"Good," the beautiful woman said to my wingmate. Then she turned to Titiana, "If you don't mind us investigating this? It sounds like it is connected with another of our cases."

"I don't mind at all, but we don't have much intrigue here. Just brawls between cowpokes and farmers over beer and women. Can I have one of my wings assist?" Titiana asked.

"If that is alright with Anelia. This is her case now."

"That is fine, we would appreciate the help," I said. A wing consisted of two wingmates. Each nest comprised a few hundred guards, six wings, and a single captain. I didn't want to spend more alone time with Fallon if I didn't have to.

"Excellent, I'll pair you." Titiana nodded at Ocellina and then walked toward the outside of the building, where her four Potentia were looking for evidence of my story.

"And I will begin my morning. I want reports from both of you before I finish my lunch," our captain said.

"Yes, ma'am," Fallon and I said as we saluted the beautiful woman. She nodded again and walked away from us.

"You just hampered our real investigation, pigeon." Fallon shook her head at me when Ocellina left the building. If my wingmate's voice could have throttled me, it would have.

"This is part of our real investigation."

"Oh yes, the little notes you took from the glassblower's house. Let me see the paper again?" Fallon raised an eyebrow and sneered.

"I told you that they were ruined by the lake water. Damn it, I am not lying."

"No? You may have the captain fooled, but I see you for what you really are." The older woman had taken a step toward me, and her pointer finger dug into my chest above my breasts.

"What is that?" I tried to speak confidently, but my voice came out as a squeak.

"Just a poor street urchin that got lucky."

Her words hit me harder than the man's magic had. I looked away from her piercing blue eyes and tried to keep the world from spinning. Fallon was right, I had gotten lucky.

"There were thirty other pigeons more qualified than you. Yet you were selected."

"So were four other girls. I don't understand why you are so upset." I couldn't meet her eyes, and my words were softer than a whisper.

"Because I wasn't partnered with any of those highly qualified pigeons, I was given you. It is obvious what is going on."

"Huh?"

"You don't even know? Fuck, I won't spell it out for you, idiot. Let's just get on with the case. The captain said it was yours, so what do you think we should do next?" Fallon spat the question into my face.

"They must have moved the crates. We need to figure out how." I'd already been thinking of my next step.

"How many crates did you say?" Fallon asked, and I guessed that she was trying to get my statement multiple times so that she could pull any inconsistencies out of it. It was what they taught us to do in training, and Fallon had been a Potentia for fifteen years.

"There were stacks of a hundred or more. I didn't get an exact count initially because I didn't know they were all filled with the vials, or even that the vials mattered," I repeated to her.

"Did you witness a hundred black-clothed citizens moving the crates?" she asked in a mocking tone.

"No, I didn't stay to watch long-"

"Because of the four men with pistols. Yes, quite the story." She shook her head. "Let's say you are telling the truth; these men carried the crates out the south door and then wrapped around the west." She gestured for me to go with her, and we walked out of the building. There were a handful of guards patrolling the fence, and I saw the five other Potentia gathered an earshot away.

"There are no oxen or horse tracks. I don't even see any footprints in the dirt, and the terrain is soft. We aren't making an impact, but look," the woman stomped her heel into the ground, and it made a large divot, "a heavy man carrying a heavy box on his shoulders would sink into this dirt."

"I agree," I said. "But that is what I saw. Could there be magic at work?" I asked.

"No, unless I want to believe that part of your tale as well." Fallon shook her head, and then she glanced behind me. "Here comes the assistance you asked for. Try not to embarrass me any more today."

I turned to greet the two Potentia from Titiana's nest. I'd met them both when I first flew into their office and blurted out my story, but we hadn't a chance to introduce ourselves before their captain ordered us to make haste toward Ver Lake.

"Ahh, she sent her best. Hello, Fulvia and Hostia." Fallon moved in front of me and joined palms with the two women.

"We are hardly Titiana's best, but we have no open cases and would love to help you and your pigeon," the woman who I knew as Fulvia said. There were only three hundred Potentia, so it was common for the trainees to memorize their names, descriptions, nest assignments, and backgrounds.

Fulvia was from one of the wealthy middle levels of Petrasada. She wore her brown hair in a long braid with a silver clasp at the end. Her heart-shaped face was pretty, and I knew that she had been a Potentia for eight years, even if the woman didn't look a day older than me.

Hostia also wore long brown hair, but she was taller than her wingmate and had sharper features. She looked as young as Fulvia, but a few strands of gray ran through her mane. She was also born into the middle levels of the city and had served as a Potentia for twenty years.

"We were trying to figure out how the man with the magic and shotgun lifted over a hundred crates out of the shipyard," Fallon smirked and nodded to the two women.

"There are some farms and ranches around the lake. We thought we could interview the citizens. Perhaps they saw someone," Hostia said with a shrug.

"But it was in the middle of the night. Most would be sleeping," Fulvia raised her eyebrows. "Titiana said that the pigeon is in charge of the case. What do you think, Anelia?" The three women looked at me, and I could see the warning in Fallon's eyes.

I didn't think that the men carried the crates across the open plains of the base level. I also didn't think that they used magic to move them. There had to be another explanation, and I knew that I could figure it out if I just had enough time.

Or I'd end up sitting out here as long as the old discarded boats in the shipyard.

"The boats in the shipyard!" I gasped.

"Yes, there are boats. It is a shipyard. What are you smiling about?" Fallon asked.

"How do they get the boats from the shipyard or the building into the water?" I asked the three women. They glanced at each other for a few moments, and each of them shrugged. I wasn't surprised since they had all been born into wealthy families.

"They use a cart with bamboo rollers to yank the vessel on or off." I'd only seen it done one time in my life, but the memory had appeared in my head when I saw the ruined boats in the yard. "They then push it to the edge of the lake and can send it into the water."

"Show us. I've never seen such a device in use. It must be a rare occurrence," Hostia said.

"There have to be one or two in the yard," I said as I looked around. "I believe that is one over there." I pointed to the far end of the lot that was closest to the water. The four of us walked the three hundred yards and then stood in front of the contraption. It looked similar to an oxcart, save that the bottom was made of long, cylinder-like wheels and there were more bamboo rollers on the concave top of the wagon where a boat's hull would rest.

"I see," said Hostia. "So they could have loaded up a boat and then pulled it to the lake?"

"The edge of the Ver is only another hundred yards. It would be easy for the men to tug it that far."

"This one doesn't look as if it has been moved," Fallon said. "It looks heavy, even without a boat on top."

"Heavy might work for them." I felt my lips curl into a smile. "They could have loaded a boat, thrown the bodies on, rolled it over the shipyard to get rid of their tracks, and then pulled it into the lake."

"Clever, if that is what they did." Fulvia nodded at my words and circled the boat cart. "It looks as if the spot behind this device had something resting on it. Come look."

The three of us stepped to where Fulvia pointed and saw the divots in the clay. There were patches of ground that were discolored, and weeds grew out from the edges of the dirt in a strange outline. There had definitely been something sitting there, but it would have been hard to notice if we had not been standing within a few feet of the spot.

"They took the boat out to the lake and docked at one of the three other piers. We are probably too late to catch them in the act, but I bet we can pick up the trail," I said.

"Fallon, your new pigeon is talented." Fulvia smiled to my wingmate, but the sour woman just rolled her eyes slightly.

"You are in charge, Anelia. Which pier should we check first?" Hostia asked.

"The closest one. Let's go." I commanded my Alula to change, and I felt the cloth begin to morph into feathers. Then I jumped into the air and let the wings carry me into the sky. The other three Potentia followed my ascent, and we angled toward Ver Lake's first pier.

Chapter 8

"There is the boat," I pointed into a grove of poplar trees near the pier. It was the farthest dock from the shipyard, and the vessel was covered with dozens of brown cloths. The camouflage had hidden the small ship from our aerial view, and I'd gone against Fallon's wishes by stopping to search inside the small forest.

"Looks like they dragged it through the mud over here," Fulvia called out from the other side of the grove, and we walked toward her. Sure enough, there were ghost marks of the boat's keel in the soft mud.

"This was planned," I said. "They must have had more workers to pull the boat out of the water." I looked back at the grove and saw a flash of light gleam from one of the poplar trees. "Block and tackle." I took a few running steps toward the tree and felt my cloak push me through the air for more speed. I grabbed onto the suddenly near branch and pointed to the pulley system.

"Good eye, pigeon." Fulvia had followed my run and gave me a smile.

"There is nothing in the boat," Hostia said from her spot on top of the deck. She'd pulled aside a few of the cloth pieces and had poked her head inside the vessel.

"I bet we'll find cart tracks on the other side of the trees." I gestured in the direction away from the lake. Fallon grunted at my words, and she made a feathered leap over the boat before gliding that way.

Fallon and I had only made a short glide around the city before we reported to the scene of Rafa Manus' death, so I hadn't really had a chance to observe the woman use her Alula much. My wingmate was extremely talented with the magical cape, and she twisted through the dense poplars with a combination of running, jumping, gliding, and hopping. She rapidly gained distance on me, and the other two Potentia also passed me before we reached the tree line. The difference between my sisters' prowess and mine was equal parts disheartening and exciting. I couldn't have expected myself to have mastered the Alula this quickly, but I felt a little ashamed at how much better the other women were at using the cape. On the other hand, it meant that I had more secrets to uncover with the cloak, and that was intriguing.

I shook my head to rid myself of the negative thoughts. I'd only worn my mantle for a few days, and I shouldn't be judging my performance by my wingmate's standards.

Even if the woman was doing it so that she could break my spirit.

"Anelia is correct. Here are the tracks," Fulvia pointed at the divots in the clay soil.

"They can't be that far ahead of us. We must hurry," I almost jumped in the air, but Hostia waved her hands.

"We must use caution. I will admit that I had trouble believing your story at first, but now it is apparent that we might be up against criminals with flintlocks and magic. I advise we keep a low flight path and attempt to keep the element of surprise." The woman's sharp features were thoughtful as she spoke, and I nodded at her advice.

"Let me take the lead. The pigeon is too inexperienced to be at the head of our formation," Fallon said without looking at me.

The two other women glanced between us. It was obvious that they agreed with my wingmate, but they had also been ordered to follow my command. I was almost tempted to tell Fallon to shut up and follow my orders, especially since I'd found the boat concealed in the trees, but I also knew that the older woman was correct.

"That is a great idea, Fallon," I said as nicely as I could force myself to speak. "Please lead us." My wingmate met my eyes and nodded before she took to the air.

Fallon flew close to the ground, and I took my position at the rear spot in the diamond formation behind the other two Potentia. Their speeds were incredible, and after a few minutes of flight, I fell behind the flying women. I couldn't seem to make my wings move me any faster, and they were soon fifty yards ahead. Then they were a hundred. I felt a small spark of panic in my stomach, and it began to spread like a fire to the rest of my once-relaxed muscles. What if they made it there and found the black-clothed assassins in mid-transport? What if my sisters attacked, and I wasn't there to help them? What if they were killed because I couldn't keep up with their pace? As my body tensed, I flew slower, and I realized that I needed to relax. They probably understood that I couldn't glide as quickly, and while I didn't like my wingmate, I trusted her experience and didn't expect her to rush headfirst into a battle that she couldn't win.

I saw them halt their flight and land gracefully about two hundred yards in front of me. They were on the small crest of a grass-covered hill, and my feet touched the ground only a few seconds after they began to crawl through the high pasture. I followed their movements and then reached the edge behind Hostia.

"The tracks lead to that barn," Fallon whispered. I peeked over the grasses and saw a massive estate with several barns, plow wagons, and cattle grazing within fenced pens.

"Do you know the property manager?" I asked Fulvia and Hostia.

"Yes, it is Quent Barton. I doubt he has much to do with this. The man lives on the seventy-fourth level, and he only visits once a month to ensure that the numbers are meeting the Priestess' expectations," Hostia said.

I nodded at her words and considered making a comment about the idiocy of having a rich man living on the seventy-fourth level of the city manage an important farming location dozens of miles away, but I figured that these women might not appreciate my particular politics. It was doubtful that my sisters cared about such things, and Potentia were expected to serve as the Priestess' arms of justice.

We were not supposed to question their policies.

"There is no one around, but I can see that the tracks lead into that far stable. The lighter-painted one." My wingmate pointed over the crest. It looked as if the wagon had veered off the clay pathway, crossed the grass around the farm, and then entered the cream-colored building.

"This seems strange. Why aren't there more footprints?" I gazed at the path of the wagon through the grass. "I saw many men pull the crates out of the shipyard building, and it would have taken even more to pull the boat out of the water and into the trees."

"They probably walked in front of the wagon so that it would lay down their tracks," Fallon said with a huff. "We should fly to the barn immediately and claim the initiative. Those crates you spoke of must be inside."

"As could be the men with the pistols," I said. "They might be waiting to ambush us."

"Why do you suddenly have cold wings? You had no problem telling a story where you were victorious over four assassins and a trained fencer. Is there some other reason you want us to delay?" Fallon's blue eyes narrowed, and she whispered the question through gritted teeth.

"No, I just feel as if this is a trap," I replied. Fulvia and Hostia had not voiced their opinions, but I doubted that they would disagree with my senior wingmate.

"It cannot possibly be a trap. How would they know we are coming?"

"Fine, will you lead us once more?" I didn't want to do this, but it was obvious that Fallon would continue to argue with me.

"That is two good decisions in a row, pigeon." Fallon nodded to me and then glanced over at our sisters. "We will enter through the hayloft portal. Can you both go through the main entrance?"

"Yes, Fallon," Fulvia nodded. All three women drew their swords, and I unsheathed my own rapier a second after. Then Fallon was in the air, and I leapt into the sky.

We rose from higher ground than the distant stable, and Fallon's wings tucked closer to her sides so that she could dive faster. I mirrored her movement, and, for ten seconds, it almost felt as if I plummeted toward the open hayloft window.

I had thought that my wingmate would halt her flight before the loft entrance and then cautiously look inside, but she just darted into the loft like an arrow. My trajectory followed hers into the darkness of the massive barn, and I prayed to the Priestesses that Fallon was right and that this wasn't a trap.

My wingmate jerked up inside of the loft and landed on top of a wooden beam. I was too slow to join her on the perch and almost crashed into the far wall of the stable before I grabbed onto another beam with my left hand. My legs swung vertically over the wood, and I set my booted feet down with surprising softness. I glanced over at Fallon to see if she had noticed me make such a great landing, but the blonde woman's eyes were occupied with the interior of the barn.

The inside was empty of crates or black-garbed assassins.

We heard a door open, and light spread through the open space. There were a dozen stalls along one of the longest walls, a trio of broken-down wagons in various stages of repair, and a barn cat that ran when the other two Potentia opened the door. Fallon dropped the forty feet to the floor, and I followed the woman to the ground. Dust actually blew aside from our landing, and the four of us glanced around the empty space with our swords ready.

"This is disappointing," Fulvia laughed after a few seconds. "I think we have been tricked."

"The tracks outside are clear. A wagon did leave the road, wrap around the property, and then enter," I said as I glanced out of the open door and confirmed that the grass outside was laid down.

"It wasn't one of these wagons. Look at the dust." Hostia blew against one of the carriages with a theatrical motion and sprayed brown dirt onto the barn floor.

"Could it be hiding in here somewhere?" I asked and then almost immediately felt as if the question was stupid. Half of the stalls contained horses, and, while there was a stack of hay on the ground floor, it was only a half a dozen bales. Most of the hay lay in the loft.

"No, we must have picked up a false trail, or maybe this whole thing was just a fabricated story, and you happened to get lucky again with the circumstances," Fallon growled and then glanced around the empty barn floor.

"Perhaps there is something we are missing. Maybe we should search here? We could also question the cowpokes to see if they noticed something." Fulvia shrugged her slender shoulders.

"There is nothing to find here but endless dust," Fallon sighed. "If you two could question the ranchers, I would appreciate it. I'll take my pigeon and backtrack; maybe we missed a trail back on the main road."

"Very well, we will find you in half an hour," Fulvia smiled at both of us, and she walked out of the barn with her wingmate.

Fallon turned to me as soon as our sisters had left. Her square jaw hardened with a grimace, and she crossed her arms. I prepared myself for her verbal onslaught, but the woman just stared at me for a few seconds before turning to leave the barn.

"Will we go back to the road then?" I asked as I stepped after her.

"You can do whatever you want to do. I am going to ensure that I have something to report to the captain. I'm starting to realize that you are worse than a burden. You are a curse sent by the Priestesses to test my faith. I've been trying too hard with you. Now I will just ignore you and hope that you will eventually go away."

She didn't even bother to look at me when she spoke, and, as soon as her words ended, she jumped into the air. Her light-blue cape turned into feathers, and my wingmate floated away with a sudden breeze. I thought about following her and explaining that I had the notes memorized. We still had to locate Pruet Carna and Damara Trillion and attempt to find out who Laramae A. was. We also had to revisit Rafa's tavern and speak to his wife and employees. There was much more we could still do with this investigation, but the veteran's words were an icicle through my heart, and my legs froze. I could only watch her fly away while I fought against the stinging tears in my eyes. Why did Fallon hate me so much?

How would I figure out what was going on without her help?

I needed to go back to Rafa's inn. The man's name was on my list, and Fallon had not questioned his widow thoroughly. I turned the decision over in my head to examine it from different angles, and then I took to the air and flew toward the lower-mid levels of Petrasada.

Chapter 9

"Greetings, citizen. I was here yesterday. Do you recall?" I asked the short woman who peered through the cracked doorway of Rafa Manus' tavern.

"Do you have more questions for me?" The woman's eyes were red, and it looked as if she hadn't slept since yesterday. I also hadn't slept in what I guessed was two days, but only felt a slight amount of fatigue. It was said that the Alula would provide us with energy to work for a week or more without sleep, but I didn't think I would need to test the magic so soon.

My fledgling career had not gone quite as expected.

"Yes, may I enter?" I asked, and the woman nodded before she opened the tavern door further. It was mid-morning, and the lack of customers confirmed my belief that the tavern was closed for breakfast. It might have to close for a long time unless Rafa's widow was able to continue without him. As I recalled, they didn't have any children to pick up the ownership.

"I am sorry to bother you again. I wanted to continue the questioning that my wingmate started yesterday," I said. Rafa's body had been found behind the counter of the bar, and there had been a struggle in the main room before he was murdered. The tables and chairs that had been tossed aside during the fight still lay in their discarded places, but a walk around the bar confirmed that her husband's corpse had been taken by the city mortuary workers.

"Did you catch the man you chased yesterday? Was that my husband's murderer?"

"No, citizen. He was just a suspect. We do not believe that he was the murderer. Can you please sit?" I positioned one of the fallen chairs and gestured to her.

"Thank you," she said after she had slouched in the seat.

Rafa's tavern was located on too high a level for me to think of visiting while I grew up at the orphanage, so I had never met Rafa's wife before yesterday, but I knew from Juliana that owning a tavern was a hard business with endless hours. The widow was probably much tougher than her teary eyes indicated.

"You told my wingmate and me that you had come downstairs in the early morning because... I'm sorry, my notes were ruined in a lake accident." I smiled to the woman and pointed to my new notebook. I had returned to my apartment after Fallon had left me, taken a quick bath, changed my clothes, oiled my weapons to prevent rusting, grabbed a new notebook, and then came here.

"I woke up and realized that he hadn't come to bed. I didn't know exactly what time it was, but the suns were low. I guessed it to be four in the morning," she confirmed. I recalled exactly what she had said when Fallon interviewed her briefly, but sometimes the stories had a way of changing when told a second or third time.

"I thought he might have already started on the day. He's been having problems sleeping. I came downstairs and I found him here. Then I ran to get the guards."

"You don't have any employees living with you?" I asked.

"No, we have four employees, but they don't live with us. Two come to help us with breakfast at around six," she said.

"How long have you been married?" I asked.

"Over thirty years, and no, we don't have children. Tried a few times." A tear slid down the stout woman's cheek, and she wiped it away.

"Has he always had trouble sleeping?"

"Oh no, we are so busy during the day and night. We don't get much rest, mind you, but he would normally sleep soundly when the suns were low."

"But he had insomnia recently?"

"Yes, for the last month," she said.

"Do you know why?" I asked.

"No, but I had suspicions that he might have been selling some of his moonshine."

"He made moonshine?"

"Yes, we've got a small room hidden in our cellar. He didn't want to register the stuff or pay taxes on it, so he never sold it. He would give it to special guests sometimes."

"But you think he was selling it?" I felt my heart begin to beat a little harder, and I sat forward in my chair.

"I found some extra money hidden in the house a few weeks ago. Actual gold pieces. I'd only seen them a few times. It is the only answer that makes sense. I keep all of our books, and the restaurant wasn't performing well enough to have that kind of money." The woman nodded as she spoke.

"Did you ask him about the money?" I realized that the woman must have really wanted to find her husband's killer. Admitting to a Potentia that you weren't paying taxes on income wasn't something most business owners would do.

"No, I figured I would let him have his fun. I did take a few silver pieces. I bought some new furniture and new clothes for him. He never mentioned that he missed the money, so I guessed that he wasn't keeping track of it."

"Do you know any of these names: Pruet Carna?" She shook her head.

"Damara Trillion?" I asked, and she shook her head.

"Laramae?"

"He knew a few Laramaes," the woman's face suddenly shifted from sadness to anger.

"I just have the initial A after the name. Does that help?" I asked, and the woman stared at me. She opened her mouth to speak and then closed it again.

"Potentia, why are you asking me this question now? I've just lost my husband," she finally said with a huff.

"I'm sorry. I am trying to solve his murder. Have I said something wrong?" The woman stared at me, and then she shook her head.

"You don't know who the Laramaes are, do you?" she asked. "Are you from a lower level?"

"Yes. I lived in an orphanage in the mid-teens." As soon as I answered her question, the woman sighed.

"Laramaes are whores. They are an expensive escort service of the mid-levels. All the women, or men, go by the name Laramae. So, to answer your question, yes, he knew a few of them. Sometimes they would come down to our level with their clients so that they could do their activities with more discretion."

"I see." I nodded and felt my cheeks heat. That was something that Fallon probably would have known if I had thought to ask her. It was another mistake I'd made.

"Do you know the name Garon Mitus?" I asked

"Isn't he a shipwright? I think I've seen him in the tavern. Maybe only once or twice," she answered after a few seconds of consideration.

"Do you remember the last time he was in this room?" I asked.

"Hmmmm." She looked up at the ceiling and moved her callused hands to her leathery face. "Maybe two weeks ago. Yes, I think that is correct. I remember now. I hadn't seen him in a year or so, but I recalled him because of the foul expression he always wore on his face."

"Did he meet with your husband alone?"

"No, but he came in during dinner, and I was busy working. He could have slunk down to the cellar with my Rafa for some moonshine. I wouldn't be surprised. Do you think Garon has anything to do with this? The man seemed like he was always in a bad mood, but I never thought of him as a danger."

"I'm not sure. We are still investigating. How about the name Dust? Have you ever heard of anyone use that name?"

"No, Potentia. I haven't." She answered quickly.

"Are you sure?" I tilted my head a bit and stared into her eyes.

"No. I've never heard of that name before." Her eyes darted away, and I guessed that she was lying.

"Very well. Can you show me this moonshine cellar?" Fallon might have beaten the woman until she admitted who this Dust person was, but I didn't think any good would come of it. Most citizens already feared our power, and I guessed that this woman wanted to avenge her husband more than she wanted to protect someone's identity. I would find out who this Dust was, eventually.

"This way." The woman stood and gestured to the back room of the tavern. I followed her through a kitchen, an abundance of packed storage shelves, and to a worn wooden door at the back of the restaurant.

"Wooden door? That is uncommon," I said. Most doors were made of bamboo since it was more efficient to plant and harvest. The base five levels of Petrasada combined were around twenty square miles, but that space was carefully allocated for livestock, farm animals, and lumber. The land had to support almost two million citizens, and wood was very expensive.

"It came with the place when we bought it twenty-five years ago. It is just poplar wood, but Rafa didn't like to show it to anyone lest they suspected we were secretly wealthy." The woman tugged open the door, and I saw steps leading down into a cellar. "Take that lantern over there. It is dark." She pointed to a lamp, and I lit it before heading down the stairs.

The basement was filled with more shelves. These were stacked with root vegetables, pickling jars, and bags of flour, and salted meat hung in a corner. It was much cooler down in this room, and I turned around to find the part of the wall that Rafa's widow indicated would have the moonshine distillery.

"Where did he make the moonshine?" I asked. I didn't see anything that looked like a boiler.

Then I felt the air in the room shift.

"No!" I shouted and jumped toward the closing door. My cloak turned to feathers, and the wings pushed me toward the top of the stairs at a ridiculous speed. I wasn't fast enough, though, and I almost slammed the top of my head into the thick door when it closed.

"Hey! Open this door!" I slammed my palm onto the wood.

"He told me you would come!" Rafa's widow screamed.

"Who?" I yelled through the door. "Open this or you will face the punishment of the Potentia!" I realized that my threat didn't really have teeth. I didn't know how to use magic yet, and a quick glance around the room showed me that there was no tool I could use to break the wood.

"Rafa said you would come asking about Dust. By the Priestesses, I didn't think it would be a Potentia." I heard the woman weep on the other side of the cellar door.

"What are you talking about? Open this damn door!" I slammed my fist onto the wood again. My stomach knotted with anxiety. This was bad. How did I not see this coming? I knew the woman had lied about knowing who Dust was. I just hadn't suspected that she would want to trap me in her cellar.

"You killed my husband! Damn you!" she shrieked. I heard something scrape across the floor. Shit, she was about to put a shelf against the door.

"I didn't kill your husband! What are you talking about? Have you lost your mind? I am a Potentia. Open the damn door now!"

"I'm going to go get him. He will take care of you. He will avenge my husband for me." The woman's voice sounded full of hate and bile.

"Who are you going to get? Manus, open this door. My sisters will come looking for me!" I lied. They would send a search party in two days at the earliest. Fallon would probably just think that I had quit after she left me.

"I will get Dust. He will know what to do with you. He can dispose of your body," the woman said through the thick wood. I heard footsteps walk away, and I banged on the door again.

"No! Open the door! Shit!" I screamed and then jumped down the stairs.

Anger welled up in my chest, and I tried to control my breathing. The walls felt as if they were closing in on me, and I forced myself to focus on the lantern. There wasn't much oil left in the device, maybe only a few hours' worth. I had to get out of here.

Or else Dust would dispose of my body.

Chapter 10

I spun away from the cellar door and then forced myself to sit on the steps. Nothing would come of me losing my focus and letting my terror take control of my thoughts. I let my breath leave my mouth with a few ragged gasps, and I focused on the small light from the lamp. Was there something that the widow had said that could give me a clue about Dust? Did I miss something in the conversation? I pushed out a few more long breaths through tightened lips while I reviewed the conversation in my head.

My memory was good, and I always placed high in the crime scene recollection tests. There had to be a way out of here. There had to of been something that the widow said by accident.

The moonshine.

She told me about Rafa's hobby well before any mention of Dust. It meant that she was either lying to me from the start of the conversation, or she had told me the truth about her husband's second source of income and had gotten scared when I mentioned the mysterious name.

I stood up from the stairs and glanced around the room again with a new perception. I'd only been in the room for a couple of minutes, maybe less, and at first I hadn't seen the still. That didn't mean that there wasn't one down here. The furnace and boilers must be concealed somewhere. The walls were plain adobe brick the color of old blood, and I ran my hands over the one to the right of me.

I didn't know what I was looking for exactly, but the bricks appeared uniform on this side. I tried prying a few off with my dagger and pushing some in with my strength. None of them seemed to budge or hint at a way that Rafa had concealed his distillery. Frustration crushed my chest, but I knew that there was going to be something hidden in the room, so I went to the back wall and repeated the same process. I couldn't find anything there that hinted at a secret area to the cellar, and terror started to rip at my nerves.

I spared a glance at the single lamp while I searched the last wall. It could have just been my fear, but the lamp seemed to be slightly dimmer than when I first stepped into the cellar. How many minutes had it been? Five? Ten? Fifteen? Maybe the exact number didn't matter. What did matter was that I would soon be out of time.

This wall looked the same as the others, but the sensation on my fingers was slightly different. The other bricks seemed to have more of a solid feel. These chunks of adobe felt soft when the tip of my knife probed their mortar joints. It was almost as if these bricks were newer and made of lower quality mud. A little spark of hope fluttered in my stomach, but I still didn't find any area on the wall that I could pry loose.

"Shit," I cursed again when I reached the corner connecting that wall to the one with the door.

I took a few steps back from the bricks and grabbed the lamp. Its light flickered dangerously when I held it high in my hand so that I could look in the corner where the wall met the ceiling. The cellar was about seven feet high, and I noticed that there was a black painted, mortar joint at the top corner nearest to where I stood. I raised the lamp closer, and my heart did a dance.

It was a slot.

I stood on my toes and angled my knife into the crevasse. It went in all the way, but nothing noticeable happened when I wiggled the blade. I thought about trying to pry with more force, but I didn't want to break the tool off in there. I gave one last tug before I pulled it out, and I felt something give in the wall.

"Yes!" I whispered as I felt the bricks shift to my right, toward the wall opposite the door leading out of the cellar.

It felt like the door sat on some sort of slippery slide, or bamboo rollers, but the angle of my dagger in the joint wasn't perfect, and I couldn't seem to get the correct leverage to move the wall more than a few inches.

Rafa was probably taller than me, but I guessed that he also had a tool to make the wall move more easily. I checked on the shelves next to me, and sure enough, I spotted a long metal bar lying under some bags of rice.

I yanked my knife from the wall, pulled the bar from the shelf, and then poked it into the slot. This was a much better fit, and the four-foot length inserted halfway into the bricks. I leaned against the bar, pushed my boot against the adjacent brick, and muscled the fake wall aside. When it had opened halfway, I saw a metal track, and wheels on the bottom of the brick allowed the entire wall to shift into an empty space of the opposite wall like a sliding window.

The hidden space was one and a half times the size of the actual cellar. Inside I saw two large boilers, an assortment of expensive copper pipes, dozens of unlit hanging lamps filled with oil, a desk covered with thick leather books, stacks of grain, and forty jugs of what I guessed was moonshine.

I didn't know much about distilling moonshine, but we had reviewed the process in our training classes, and I understood enough about the topic to guess that this was an operation much larger than one man's hobby. It was probable that Rafa made dozens of gold pieces a month from the sale of this alcohol, and I could understand why he hadn't wanted to pay taxes on it. He had gone too far with the project at this point, and even if he started to report the business, we would have wanted a significant amount of back taxes.

Each unit looked as if it contained maybe two hundred gallons, and I noticed a strange formation of bricks under the base of each large drum. I pulled my dim lamp around the floor and found two holes filled with charcoal. It seemed like it was some sort of vertical stove design, and I wished that I had more time to study how it worked. Burning wood needed an exhaust, and I saw a small grate at the foot of the opposite wall, past the pair of stills. The smoke must have been drawn out of the room through a cleverly designed vent there and blended in with that from the large chimney of the tavern's kitchen.

I ran to the vent and gave it a closer inspection. It was maybe a foot and a half wide and about as tall. My fingers hooked into the grate, and I was able to yank it off with little effort. I stuck the flickering lamp inside and saw that the square shaft went both up and down into darkness.

A scrape sounded at the cellar door. It sounded as if there were feet walking on the wood. I pulled my head out of the exhaust shaft, but then realized that the noise actually came from the chimney, and I leaned forward into the dark tunnel.

"She's in the cellar," I heard the widow's panicked voice.

"Why?" a man questioned.

"She knew about you. Rafa said that anyone who came in asking about you was an enemy and not to be trusted."

"But she is Potentia?" he asked.

"She had the blue cape, yes."

"Damn it. You've jeopardized my entire operation." His voice was a growl.

"My husband said--"

"Your husband was a fool, and if he wasn't already dead, I'd kill him for getting you involved."

"Please, I was just trying to protect you. Forgive me," I heard the widow sob.

"You've put me in a difficult situation. If you had let the Potentia go, then I could have taken care of her when it was convenient for me. Now I have to kill her here, and I am doubtful that you will be able to keep your tongue in your mouth."

"I can be trusted! Rafa didn't tell me anything about your operation. Please, I am just a simple woman. I don't want to be part of your--"

"The stakes are high. Half a million people or more could be killed. I can't let you alert our enemies."

"I won't say anything to the guards. Please forgive me," she whined.

"Leave before I change my mind," the voice growled.

"Leave? I'm confused," the woman said.

"Get out!" he screamed, and I heard light feet run across the ceiling of the cellar.

"Pull the shelf away from the cellar door." I heard him say once the widow had exited.

"We really going to kill a Potentia? I knew we would have to eventually, but the plan was not for a few months." It was another man's voice, and he spoke in a whisper that I could only hear through the chimney shaft.

"We have too. We'll throw her body to Keidas. It will buy us a few days."

"Her wingmate will come looking for her," a third man's voice said.

"Yes, but there will be little to go on without a body. Pull out your pistols."

I knew my chances against three pistol-wielding men, and the only plan I could think of was to get the door to the distillery closed so that they might think I wasn't in here. I jumped to the other side of the stills and moved to the hidden door. I reached around to pull the bar out of the wall and pushed on the inside of the secret wall to move it back into place. A few seconds after I felt the brick settle into place, I heard the cellar open.

I doubted that they could see the light from my lamp through the brick wall, but I also wondered whether this Dust person knew about Rafa's moonshine business. I guessed that he probably did, and I realized that closing the wall was only a temporary respite.

I moved back to the open vent and stuck my head in again. I had no idea where the lower part of the shaft would end, but the upper section would take me to the main kitchen area. All Dust and his men would have to do was point their guns down the shaft and I'd be dead.

I glanced at the grate, at the lamp, and then at the passage.

Then I took a deep breath and turned the valve on the lamp to extinguish the flame.

Darkness was strange. Most homes had thick blinds to keep out the twin suns, but other than the single night once a year, the world was always bathed in a pure brightness. Even with my shutters closed, some light always leaked through the coverings. I felt around with my hands and hooked my fingers into the grate again. I had a visual memory of where the shaft was, and I backed into the hole so that my legs could press against the sides of the tunnel. The grate hooked back into its spot with a small amount of blind maneuvering, and I exhaled the breath I had been holding.

"She isn't here?" I thought I heard one of the men say from the other side of the wall. I wondered about just staying here for a few hours, and then climbing out when Dust gave up his search, but I dismissed the thought almost as soon as it came to me. They were going to find me if I didn't move.

I relaxed my legs and inched my way down the shaft.

The darkness was oppressive, deep, and I imagined that the walls of the tunnel were closing in around me like a vise. My legs soon ached with the effort of pressing into the shaft, and I tried using a combination of my hands, back, and knees to walk myself downward. That helped for a time, but then the palms of my hands began to feel as if they were blistering, and I had to put more weight on my legs. I had gloves in one of my pouches, but I didn't want to risk taking my hands away from the walls or dropping the gloves by accident.

This was a terrible idea.

Maybe not as bad as facing Dust and two other pistol-wielding criminals, but I should have gone up the shaft instead of descending. I had no idea how much further this tunnel went, and I had no light since the lamp had been too awkward to bring along. I might end up diving into the bowels of the floating island, where the miners often claimed one could become lost and never find the surface.

"Relax, Anelia," I whispered to myself. "You can always climb back up the shaft in a few hours if you can't find another way." I didn't see the grate, but I'd be able to feel it with my hands, and Dust would probably have given up by then.

"I don't see her!" I froze in place when I heard the voice from high above.

I glanced up and saw a distant light. It looked like a tiny star, and I realized that my descent must have carried me sixty feet down the shaft, but as I craned my neck toward the light, I knew the lamp was actually much closer than I had first thought. One of the men's heads poked into the shaft, and he held the lamp above him so that he could look upward. His head blocked the light from reaching me, and it made me think I was further away.

"She might have gone up while we were down here," I heard him say, and hope filled my chest.

"No, then Jotana would have seen her in the main room. If she escaped this cellar, then she must have gone down." I felt my stomach tumble down the shaft at Dust's deduction, and my brain tried to fumble with a new plan.

The lamp above me flickered, and the shaft brightened significantly. My hair was long and brown, so I leaned forward in the slim hope that the light wouldn't reach me or reflect off any of the metal parts of my thin armor.

"I don't see her down below," the voice said, and I felt a breath leave my body thankfully.

"Did you throw a torch down?" I heard Dust ask.

"Do you have a torch? I just have this lamp."

"Throw some of the moonshine down and then toss the lamp," Dust said, and my heart's panicked beat sprinted out of control.

"It would be a shame to waste a whole flask of 'shine," the voice faded with the light, and I guessed that the man had pulled his head out of the shaft to argue with Dust.

I needed to get out of here.

"There are dozens of flasks here. Stop wasting time. We need to find the woman." Dust's voice sounded very far away, and I had to strain to hear his words.

There was no time for me to climb back and engage the men. There was no time for me to continue my careful descent. I didn't know how far this tunnel would continue, but if they dropped one of the jugs of moonshine down here and then followed up with the burning lamp, I would be lit on fire and cooked alive in the chimney. I needed to reach the bottom of this dark place.

I pulled my arms away from the wall, set my body in the middle of the dark shaft, and then loosened my feet from against the sides. My body started to slide down against the walls and I prayed to the Priestesses that I could slow myself before I hit the bottom of the shaft. It was impossible to tell how fast I fell, but I felt heat on the bottom of my thick leather boots.

There was also some noise, a scraping sound that seemed to fill my ears. It came from my boots sliding against the rock of the shaft and I wondered for a few moments whether Dust and his cronies could hear me. I hoped that I was too far away. I hoped that I wasn't going to hit the ground suddenly and break my legs. I hoped that--

Suddenly, I felt nothing, and I gasped as I seemed to float in an endless void. My cloak unfurled behind me, and my weight hung on the magical garment. I hadn't even thought to extend my wings, but maybe that was part of the magic. The Priestesses had told me that the Alula would try to keep me safe.

I heard a smash echo from the inky blackness above me, and then I heard a shower of glass bounce off the walls of the shaft. I twisted away from my position and guessed that I had moved away from the exit hole, or I would have been covered with the glass and moonshine.

"It is deep..." I thought a voice whispered from above.

I guessed that the lamp would explode brightly when it hit the moonshine, but there was a bit of warning. A slight glow outlined the tunnel above me, and I was able to cover my eyes with my arm a second before the world turned into a sun.

The air turned hot with a whooshing sound, but my arm protected my face from the sudden shock of light. I pulled my forearm away from my face to study my surroundings, and I forced my mouth shut against the surprise.

I floated in a massive cavern that stretched in all directions. I could see the floor beneath me, since some of the dripping, flaming moonshine escaping from the edge of the shaft, and the fallen lamp sat in a pool of bright molten fire on the ground far below me.

Between the bones.

There were hundreds, maybe even thousands of bones scattered across the cavern. Massive rib cages, long serpentine spines, and skulls that were bigger than Rafa's tavern. These immediately caught my attention because they were lizard looking, with horns on the crests and massive teeth jutting out of the jaws like saw blades. I angled my body down and floated toward the lamp's light. It had fallen near one of the medium-size skulls, and the teeth were each five feet long.

What kind of creatures were these? Why were they inside the floating island? There had always been legends about strange monsters that lurked in the hidden depths of the city, but I thought those were just miners' tales. These bones did look old, maybe even ancient, and I reached my hand up to tap on part of the skull. It felt as if it was metal and even made a sound that seemed denser than wood.

The lamp was made of brass, and I saw that, while it still burned, most of the moonshine had been consumed from the surface of the handle. I used the edge of my Alula to dab the remaining flames away from the metal, and then I wrapped my hand in the cloth before I picked up the lamp. It was still warm against my palm, but the magical cape protected my skin from blistering.

Despite standing in the massive underground graveyard of monster bones, I felt a lot safer than when I was in the shaft. The moonshine would finish burning the edges of the tunnel in a few minutes, and then I could fly to the hole and climb back up to Rafa's kitchen. Dust was probably gone by now.

Or I could stay down here and explore these strange bones.

I shook the lamp a bit to estimate the remaining oil. It was the same one I had carried with me into the cellar, and it felt as if it had about a quarter of its fuel left. I could probably eke out an hour of flame, so I let the cloak fall from between my palm and the lamp and took to the air again.

Perhaps I should have been scared, since I'd just escaped Dust's attempt to burn me alive, but I only felt a strong curiosity about the giant graveyard. All these bones of giant creatures piled into this strange cavern. How did they get here? What were they? I flew slowly over the ground and looked for anything in the endless sea of white that might provide a clue.

Then I saw the eggs.

There was a pile of them, each a grayish cream color and the size of my entire body. I flew toward them and landed a few feet from what appeared to be a bowl-like indent in the sand. At a rough count, I guessed there were twenty-four of the eggs. I reached my hand out to touch one, and the surface felt like a smooth river stone.

But it was warm.

A hundred questions tumbled through my mind, but I had no idea how to find the answers to them. I would have to report my findings to Ocellina, and maybe the captain would recommend that the Priestesses send a search party down here to investigate the place. It would have to be Potentia at first, so we could fly down, but once my sisters confirmed my findings, we would build a rope system to lower down other researchers.

This was a historical finding, and I felt a smile touch my lips when I thought about all the new information the Priestesses would be able to learn about our island. I almost couldn't believe that what I touched was real, but there was no doubting my eyes and the warmth beneath my hand.

The egg moved.

Or at least I thought it did. It was probably just my imagination, but it felt as if something inside the shell knocked against my hand. I left my palm on the warm surface and nothing else happened for half a minute, so I pulled my hand away and took to the air again.

The edges of the shaft were still alight, as was the spot on the ground below it, but I realized that I couldn't go too far from the location. Even with my personal lamp, I'd have trouble finding the entrance to the tunnel in complete darkness with only the small flame to search with. I drifted away from the eggs and flew back toward the hole in the ceiling.

Something cried behind me.

It wasn't really a shriek, more like a whine of hunger. The sound was loud though, and I turned in the air while my heart jumped in my chest.

There were three snake-like monsters flying through the dark air toward me.

Chapter 11

They looked like worms, or maggots. Their skin was a mix of scales, slime, and white ooze. The faces of the flying monsters were lizard-like, but with covered bubbles of pale flesh where the eyes would be. I saw that they flew on tiny wings, but there were three on each side, and they fluttered like a humming bird's.

They did have jaws, and the one leading the pack opened a toothy maw as it shot toward me. The three- foot-wide mouth was lined with hundreds of razor-looking teeth and each point gleamed orange from the light of my lamp.

I twisted my wings left and my body yanked away from where I had hovered a second earlier. I felt the long torso of the giant flying snake rush past me, and I had to flap my Alula again so that I avoided a smack from the creature's tail. The other two angled toward me, and I forced my wings to lift upward in a somewhat unnatural movement for the magic. I launched myself down like a dropped brick and the two creatures slammed into each other ten feet above me.

As soon as the pair collided, they bit, and then they both screeched. I couldn't tell if it was from the satisfaction of biting prey or the pain of being chomped on, but the snake-monsters coiled around each other and plummeted toward the layer of bones far below. I didn't pay too much attention to how they landed though, because the first flying monster had circled around in the air and was making another dive toward me.

My body twisted right and then I angled my left wing to pull me into a corkscrew spin. The lamp flickered dangerously as I dove, but I figured that I'd still have the light from the shaft to aid me if the lamp blew out. The bone-covered floor sped toward me, and I swooped horizontally a few feet above the top of the jagged rib cages.

The flame in my hand sputtered as I sped through the air, and I spied a massive skull towering over the rest of the bone rubble. I angled toward the left eye socket and commanded my wings to pull strongly. They almost felt as if they were part of my body, and the muscles in my own back flexed with the effort of the feathery strokes.

The eye socket was two, maybe three feet in diameter, and I knew that my wings couldn't fit through. I commanded the Alula to convert back to its cape form half a second before I dove through the hole, and I extended my arms in front of me as if I was diving into a lake. I heard the fabric flutter behind me and the flying snake monster screech, and then I flipped around so that my feet hit the far interior side of the skull.

The monster had come in after me, and I pushed off with my legs against the skull to dive to the ground. I had to drop the lamp when my shoulder met the sand, and the flame flickered dangerously.

I spared a glance over my shoulder and saw the creature had turned against the inside of the skull and was angling toward me again. I sprinted ten steps, jumped up against the opposite side of the bone dome, and then commanded my Alula to fling me back into the air. The worm monster's scaled body stretched below me, and I was able to run across the long body for a second between beats of my blue wings.

The monster angled back to try to bite me, and while I should have been terrified, I was more interested in how the creature could locate me so easily with no eyeballs. Could it smell me? Hear me? Feel my wings beat? Perhaps the answer didn't matter, since any of them meant that I would probably get eaten if my lamp flame went out.

I dove to the sand, turned my wings back into a cloak, rolled across the ground, sprang up against the inside of the skull, kicked off the bone into a backflip, and then commanded my wings to yank me backwards away from the hungry maw of the maggot-monster. The thing snapped its ooze-covered jaws a foot away from my face, and I leaned backward to plummet the three feet to the ground.

I landed next to the lamp, and I scooped the light in my hand as I dashed past it. The worm creature turned to seek me again, but my plan had worked, and the monster had fallen into my impromptu trap.

It had tied itself into a knot by following me around inside of the giant skull.

The beast screamed with hunger when I flew out of the eye socket and into the open air of the cavern. I doubted that it would be able to unknot itself quickly, and it wouldn't be able to escape the skull prison while it was tangled. So I doubted that I would need to worry about it in the near future. I also wouldn't need to worry about the other two worms that had chased me. They were both still tangled up next to the fire on the sand. It looked as if one of the creatures had perished and the other monster was in the process of eating its corpse.

I would have to worry about the half dozen more creatures that had just hatched and were beginning to fly toward me.

"Shit," I said over the sound of their humming-bird wings echoing inside of the cavern.

I had been too surprised by the attack of the three monsters to comprehend my terror, but the sight of the newly hatched giant maggots reminded me that I should be scared. There was no way I could out fly and escape six of the creatures.

Some moonshine was still burning on the lip of the shaft, but I knew I'd have to risk getting seared if I wanted to escape these monsters. I flew up toward the tunnel and prayed that I would make it to the mouth before the first flying snake reached me.

The cries grew closer as I rose through the air, and I kicked my legs with the beating of my wings as if I was trying to swim faster through water. The bright lip of the shaft looked so far away, and a glance at the approaching maggots made my heart drop.

I was almost there. The flames burned only twenty feet above me. I flexed my back against the wings and prayed to the Priestesses that I would make it there in time. Then I was at the lip of the fire, and I dove up into the shaft with my hands pointed as I did earlier into the eye socket of the skull.

I told my Alula to turn into a cloak as soon as my arms reached the shaft.

The light of the lamp in my hand illuminated the walls of the tunnel as I shot past the flames. I didn't feel any burning around me, and I guessed that I had been too fast to catch fire. With the loss of momentum, my upward dive turned into a fall, and I pressed my feet against the walls of the tunnel when gravity began to pull me down.

I glanced down and saw one of the worms slide across the flames of the shaft exit. It missed the entrance, but another beast came up from below, and its gruesome face slid into the narrow tunnel.

Then it slithered up toward me.

This one looked smaller than the others, but its oozing maw opened wide enough to take my foot with one bite. I pushed up with my legs and started to climb, but after a handful of seconds it became obvious that the worm would catch me.

I pressed my arms and back against the side of the tunnel and kicked down with my boots when the snake got close enough to snap at me. My heel caught the monster on its nose, and it fell away from me with a deafening screech. I thought that my attack might have gotten rid of the snake, but it was able to wiggle against the sides of the tunnel and hold itself in the shaft.

Then it started to slither back up after me.

I climbed a few more feet and braced my arms against the walls. The creature made the same attempt to bite me, and its effort earned it another kick to the nose. It fell down again, but caught itself before it slid all the way out of the shaft. One of the flesh-colored bubbles on the side of its head opened, and a black eyeball burned with hatred in the light from my lamp.

I scooted up another few feet while I kept my eyes on the monster. It opened its mouth to screech at me and then started to wiggle up the shaft. I repeated the kick to the creature's face before it could chomp me, but the beast had learned from the previous two boot stomps, and it didn't fall as far.

I pushed against the shaft walls with my back and legs while I reached for my rapier. The blade was a bit too long to draw gracefully while I was wedged in the shaft, but I managed to get the weapon out a few seconds before the maggot-monster reached me again.

I shoved the point of the sword into the creature's single open eye as soon as it was in range. The blade sank deep into the hate-filled orb, and the monster released a deafening scream. I relaxed some of the pressure my legs exerted on the walls of the shaft, and more of my body weight pushed down on the hilt of my sword. The monster tried to wriggle away from the pain, but I just pushed down with more weight, and felt the tip bump into the back inside part of its skull.

It let out a final shriek, snapped its jaws around empty air, and then its massive maggot body went limp around my sword. It relaxed its pressure against the shaft, and its ugly face bounced between the sides of the tunnel as it fell away from me. The fire at the lip of the shaft was only a dim glow now, and I watched the corpse of the monster fade into the blackness of the chasm.

I sheathed my rapier and wasted no time climbing. I didn't know if the other monsters would try to come after me, but I figured that putting distance between myself and the opening was a good idea. I hadn't made it more than ten feet or so before I heard another one of the beasts collide with the opening to the tunnel. I looked back down and saw that two of the maggot-lizard-snakes were trying to fit into the hole at the same time, and they snapped at each other as they forced their maws into the too narrow shaft.

I climbed with renewed vigor and tried to ignore the sweat cascading from my palms. Every five pushes up the shaft I checked down below me, but the light from my lamp didn't reach all the way down, and I could only see the faint movements of the two monsters struggling to fit into the tunnel. If one of them fell away, then the other would be able to squeeze inside. I only had a few more moments of reprieve, but there was an endless amount of tunnel still to climb before I reached Rafa's cellar.

I looked up the shaft, and my breath caught. It seemed as if the Priestesses had granted me a boon. There was an offshoot from the tunnel about eight feet above me, and I climbed up to the ledge as quickly as I could. This new branch ran horizontal at almost a perfect ninety-degree angle, but the hole was much smaller, maybe only a foot and a half across in circumference. It would be a much tighter fit for my shoulders and sword, but the monsters trying to eat me wouldn't be able to crawl in after me.

I wasted no more time thinking about it. I squeezed my shoulders into the shaft and pushed with my boots against the far wall to help force my body the rest of the way. The fit was much tighter than I was comfortable with, but I figured that the monster's stomach would be a more uncomfortable fit.

The sheath of my sword scraped on the ground while I pulled myself along on my elbows. I was moving much faster than when I climbed up the main shaft, but after what felt like a half an hour, my back was sore and the walls had started to feel as if they were getting tighter around me.

I kept crawling.

It must have been an hour, maybe two, and my hands were raw, my back was screaming, and even my elbows and knees complained against the padding of my armor. I figured that I owed myself a break and took a few moments to catch my breath. As soon as I stopped moving, my mind seemed to catch up to my body, and I began to think about what I was going to tell Fallon and Captain Ocellina. After considering for a few moments, I realized that I would have to leave Fallon out of the conversation. She would be angry about me visiting Rafa without her.

After a few minutes, I felt more relaxed and began to crawl forward through the tunnel. The lamp still had almost a quarter of its oil, and I prayed that the shaft would eventually lead to the surface of Petrasada. I longed to see the sunlight and feel the wind on my face. I wanted to fly above the city and twirl through the clouds.

"Here," I heard someone say through the tunnel ahead of me. It was a faint whisper, but it was definitely a man's voice.

I slowed my crawl and strained to listen for the voice again, but I heard nothing other than my own heartbeat and breathing. I crawled for another few minutes, and saw a warm light begin to color the walls of the distant tunnel. I thanked the Priestesses again and moved toward the light.

It was another cavern, and the shaft that I crawled through emerged from one of the highest points on the wall. The floor lay maybe forty or fifty feet below me, and I could see stacks of crates, bags, and tools arranged in one small corner of the chamber. Large lanterns lined the cave, and hundreds of other holes filled the otherwise smooth walls. It almost reminded me of the inside of a hornets' nest, and I wondered if the worm creatures might have used this chamber at some point in the distant past.

I saw two hallways on the opposite side of the chamber. One looked to be large enough to fit a donkey cart through, and the other looked to be more man-sized. They each had lamps by their entrance, and the supplies gathered below made me think that I had stumbled into a mining supply depot.

I waited on my perch for a few moments and then pushed myself out of the hole. My wings opened a few feet after I began my tumble toward the ground, and I glided through the cave to land at the foot of the smaller hallway. I had never visited the mining camps, and I would have liked to look around a bit more, maybe talk to one of the managers about the creatures that had tried to eat me, but I needed to get my report back to the captain quickly.

My wings turned into cloth as I walked down the hallway. After a few dozen steps, I realized I should have taken the wider passage, since that probably led up to level one of the city, but then I heard voices in the distance, and I figured that it would make more sense to ask for directions to the surface.

The hallway was long, and it split into three different branches. I guessed that I was following people who may have been speaking, but I couldn't hear their voices any longer. I stood at the fork and took a deep breath. Perhaps it didn't matter which tunnel I took, eventually I'd stumble into a miner who would give me directions. I took a step toward the center tunnel, but I stopped mid-stride and inhaled a deep breath again.

I smelled something familiar. It was the scent of algae. The scent of water. The scent of Ver Lake.

The air tasted like magic.

Was this one of the powers of the Alula? Was the light-blue cloak heightening my senses already? Potentia were supposed to develop heightened attributes, but I had never heard of one of my sisters being able to smell magic. Maybe that wasn't what was actually happening, but the scent I picked out of the air reminded me of the lake.

And the man who had used his magic to blast me from the air.

I walked for another ten minutes. I was beginning to think that I would never see the sky again, but the scent was becoming stronger, and I used it to guide me through another assortment of knotted corridors. My nose continued to grasp hints of nutmeg, rosemary, and wild garlic. As soon as the scent filled my mind with the memory of the man's magical blast, I heard some conversation.

"We tailed him to Rafa's inn."

The voice made me stop walking, and I pressed my body against the wall.

"And?" another voice said. This one was much deeper than the first.

"He was there for a half of an hour. Then he left," another voice said.

I crept closer to the voices and put my hand on the hilt of my rapier.

"Did he leave with the Potentia?" the second voice asked again.

I recognized his timbre. It was the man at the shipyard who had used his magic to knock me into Ver Lake. His voice was deep and rough. I inched closer to the voices and saw a side of the hallway open into a stairwell. The scent curled up the steps as if the shore of the lake sat only a few feet below me.

"No. It was strange. The girl went in the tavern, and Mitina Manus ran out with a worried expression on her face ten minutes later. She came back with Dust and two of his bruisers," the third voice said from the stairwell.

"They must have killed her. Maybe they burnt the body using Rafa's moonshine," the dark voice said with a sigh.

"Isn't this good though? I thought you wanted that Potentia dead?" a woman's voice said.

"The bitch killed Dace, Perrin, Lavern, and Treves. She deserves death," the first man said.

"Perhaps that is part of the reason," the dark voice said. "She survived a blast of my magic. She crawled out of Ver Lake, killed four of us, and then escaped. Dust probably just smashed her head in with his usual brashness."

"I don't like the idea of killing Potentia. It seems like a bad omen," one of the men said.

"They don't care about us, just like their masters," the first man said.

"What will we do with the crates we stole from the shipyard?" the woman asked.

I heard footsteps coming from behind me, and I glanced around to see if there was an easy way for me to hide. The roof was twelve feet up, but there was nowhere for me to conceal myself. I could either risk going down the stairs toward the voices of at least four people who wanted to kill me, or I could continue down the hallway toward possible escape.

"My brother intends to keep what was delivered to him. I think we should destroy ours," I heard the dark-voiced man say before I moved down the hall.

The corridor continued for fifty feet and then became a bridge over another large chamber. Noise filled my ears, and I leaned over the side to see dozens of miners pulling carts of ore and laughing about their work. They walked thirty feet below me, and it seemed as if they were switching shifts, with some of the miners heading in one direction with fresh faces and empty carts, while the others had wagons filled with ore and dirt-covered sacks.

I leaned further over the side of the bridge and saw that there were a few passages that seemed to feed into the main cavern. I could have just flown down to the miners, but that would get attention and might alert the people I had overheard speaking. I knew that they had guns and magic, and they knew what I looked like. I didn't want to put a larger target on myself at this point. The miners were packed in closely together, and there was a chance I could slip into the crowd and walk out with them. I would just need to find the path down to the cavern.

I was about to turn away, but my eyes lingered on four miners who seemed a bit out of place. They walked in the direction of the exit with the others, but their clothes weren't dirty, and I saw the incoming shift of miners avoid eye contact. One of the men stood taller than the rest, and his broad, muscular shoulders were more developed than those of any of the other miners. His stature was surprising, since most of the men who worked under the city spent their days lifting raw ore. The tall man had a thick head of dark brown hair, and I wished he would turn around so that I might memorize his face. There was also a woman in the group. Her hair was long, blonde, and pulled up in a braided ponytail. It was the style that most female guards wore. The other two men in their group had auburn hair and muscular builds. They also had very tan skin, and I guessed their profession to be in the ranching segment rather than mining.

These were the suspects I had overheard speaking, and the tall man was the one who had tried to shoot me with his scattergun and had then blasted me with his magic.

The exit tunnel made a gentle turn to the right, and I realized that I was going to lose my chance at tailing them if I didn't get to the main floor quickly. I thought again about just floating down with my wings, but it might cause the miners to raise a fuss and alert the four suspects to my presence.

I had passed the stairwell where I heard their voices, so I dashed back in that direction. It was seventy yards, and I didn't run past any miners on my way. I did use my Alula to float myself down the winding stone stairwell quickly.

There was another stone hallway at the bottom of the stairs, and I ran in the direction of the large exit tunnel. I heard the distant sound of the crowd up ahead, and I slowed my sprint to a casual walk before I turned the last lamp-lit corner and fell in step with the throng of exiting miners.

I didn't see the tall man ahead, and I guessed that the group must have rounded the gentle curve. I needed to catch up to them, so I increased my walking speed and began to cut my way through the crowd. A few of the miners gave me surprised looks when I rushed past them, but most seemed engaged in their conversations and didn't pay me any attention. I soon saw the tall suspect's head over the crowd, as well as the light from the opening to the mine. The group of four was still fifty or sixty yards from the last turn, and the tunnel sloped upward at a gentle angle.

I continued to push through the crowd until I was twenty feet behind the two men with reddish hair. I saw them talking, but I couldn't pick out their words from the excited conversations of the crowd in the tunnel.

The group reached the mouth of the exit, and their heads were bathed in the light of the twin suns. I continued my somewhat concealed walk with the rest of the workers and exited the mine shaft about thirty seconds behind the suspects. They dispersed without saying anything to each other. The tall man walked north, to the towering city. The woman angled around the main section of the staging area toward the office buildings. The other two men turned south, and I guessed that they were walking toward the nearby ranch lands.

I hung back once I had exited the mouth of the cave and stood with my back pressed to the smooth rock wall. When the two tan-skinned men turned, I was able to see their faces, and I memorized their features. I would be able to draw them as soon as I got back to the nest, and the city guard would have the pair in custody within the day.

I couldn't see the face of the woman from my position, and the tall man had his back to me. He was also within the main part of the crowd heading to upper levels. I glanced toward the distant buildings of the city and figured that it would be a good twenty-minute walk until he got there. It was obvious to me that the dark-voiced man was the boss of these criminals, but I knew I'd be able to catch up to him. First, I wanted to get a look at the woman.

I waited a few moments for another group of miners to pass me. Most turned nervous eyes toward me as they walked, but they either glanced away quickly when they saw me or bowed when they got near. I returned their movements with a smile, and it moved a few of the workers to wish me a good day.

There was a break in the flow of miners, and I walked across the wide entrance to the cavern and headed toward the office structures. They were brick buildings, freshly coated with green paint, and I saw the blonde woman walk into one of the farthest ones from my position.

There were a few clerks moving between the buildings. They carried stacks of papers or folders, and one of them turned to me as I neared the building the blonde woman had entered.

"Can I help you, Potentia?" The man was a little shorter than me, with curly light brown hair and ink-stained hands.

"I haven't seen any city guards around. Do you know where their nearest post is?" I had never spent much time near the mines, but I knew their entrances were on the first or second level.

"I saw a patrol come through here about fifteen minutes ago. They are normally here at shift change. They came early today," he answered with an innocent smile. The man was probably about my age, but he nodded to me as he spoke.

"What duties are performed in that building?" I asked as I pointed to where the blonde woman had gone.

It still felt a little strange to question people as a Potentia. Most of my life, I had needed to be friendly with people, especially growing up in the orphanage. I still asked the question with a reassuring smile on my face, but I realized I could have just demanded the answer as my wingmate would have done and gotten the same result. The Alula cloak meant I was one step removed from the Priestesses, and most citizens would answer my questions eagerly.

"That is the transportation department. They move the unprocessed ore to the forges every day and then manage the distribution of the finished metal," he answered.

"Thank you for your help." I nodded to him and continued toward the building.

The handle was a worn copper knob, and it turned easily in my hand as I opened the thick door. Inside, I counted twenty large bamboo desks in an open space. Each was piled with stacks of loose paper, ink vials, and quill pens. The floor was covered in a dark green rug that muffled my boot steps. I didn't see anyone in the first room, but there were doors on each of the walls, and I walked toward the one that I guessed led to the remainder of the building.

The next room had a similar array of desks, but these were made of wood, and most of them were clear of messy paper. I still saw no one, and I wondered if I had imagined the blonde woman with the braided hair walking into this particular building. There was another door on the far side of the room, and I opened it to see a staircase that led up to the next level of the building.

My ears picked up movement from the top of the stairs, and I crept up the steps as quietly as I could. There was another door at the top, but it stood ajar a quarter of the way, and I was able to glance through the gap into the office. The blonde woman sat alone at one of the desks as she searched through the drawers. I still couldn't see her face, since she was bent over the side of the desk, but I could solve that problem easily by walking into the room and arresting her.

I almost pushed the door open and took her into custody, but I paused with my hand raised and considered the strategy behind my action. Sure, I could claim she was conspiring to commit murder, since she had been talking with the group and I had overheard their plans for me. I also heard the woman admit that she stole the crates from the shipyard, but if I arrested her now, then the tall man with the magic would soon realize that I was alive. It would probably be more difficult to apprehend him at that point.

No, it was better to just get a look at this woman and then go after the ringleader of the operation. Once I had him in custody, I could come back with the guards and arrest her along with the two other men. My patience was rewarded a few dozen seconds after I reached my decision. The woman pulled a stack of papers from one of the drawers and set them on the table. Her face was attractive. Her eyebrows were a darker shade of blonde than her hair, and she had rounded cheeks, a lean chin, and bright blue eyes. I watched her sort through the documents for a few moments until I had her features memorized.

I slid back down the stairs and walked as quickly as I could to the exit of the office building. Part of me really wanted to arrest the woman, but I couldn't waste time on a minnow when there was a bass nibbling on my line.

I ran toward the road where I had last seen the tall man. The crowd of miners walked about half a mile ahead, and it appeared that they were speaking jovially. I checked the office buildings and the staging area of the mine. There were still about fifty workers milling about, but they were all a good hundred yards away, and I didn't care if they saw me fly. Just as long as I didn't alert the large suspect to the fact that I was behind him.

I kicked into the air, and my Alula shifted into wings with a strong beat. It only took me a few seconds to climb some hundred feet into the air. From this height, I could observe the movement of the crowd, and I easily picked out the tall man near the front of the procession.

We were on the second level of the city, and the grasslands path soon came to the wide ramp that led to the third level. There were more homes here. Rancher, miner, fisher, and farmer housing for individuals and small families. They were modest adobe shelters, and a good portion of the group split up to head toward their dwellings.

Two other miners continued to walk with the suspect. The livable area of the third level was a mile wide, and I watched them for another forty minutes as they hiked up to the fourth level, and then continued on to the fifth. The two men left my suspect with a nod and walked into a tavern on that level. The tall man continued for a hundred yards and entered a blacksmith's shop.

I pondered flying to the nearest nest to ask for assistance, but I didn't want to give the man a chance to escape. Going into the shop to arrest him by myself might be a mistake because of my inexperience, but I couldn't risk the time it would take to go to the nearest nest and recruit my sisters. With my luck, the man would be long gone by the time I got back with reinforcements, and I had already made that mistake once today. The other option was to get a city guard to retrieve help from the nearest nest while I kept my eye on the building. I didn't see any guards patrolling the streets below though, and the thought of taking my eyes off the shop made my stomach churn.

I also didn't want to enter the store and face off against a magic-wielding man who also had access to guns. Granted, I hadn't seen him carry a scattergun with him from the mine, but he could have one in the shop.

The streets were somewhat busy with travelers, but there was a lot more space on the streets of the fifth level of the city than the teens, or higher levels. I floated to the blacksmith's shop with a slow circular approach so that I could check all the exits of the building. There was just the entrance on the front and a door at the rear that led to a forge and donkey stable. I landed by the stable and crept toward the rear door. Damn it. This would be so much easier if Fallon was with me. We were supposed to travel in pairs. It was safer for Potentia and for suspects.

"Who do you suspect?" I heard a voice say though the thick back door.

"Someone in their distribution chain. I have a few names," my suspect said.

"Are you going to stop them?" the first voice asked.

"I want to. That is why I am here. I need your advice. The Potentia are trying to find the murderer. It is putting them close to the operation. If I could find the killer, then it would get them out of the picture."

"I agree. How can I help?" the first voice asked.

"I believe Dust may have killed one of the Potentia at Rafa's inn."

"Shit," the other man sighed.

"It was the same one that tried to stop us from stealing Garon's supply."

"But you got them?"

"Yes, and killed Garon. She had already dealt with Othoro. It would have gone according to plan if the woman wasn't there. We tried to kill her, but she escaped. I made a mistake and used my magic to knock her out of the sky," my suspect said. Well, I supposed he wasn't a suspect anymore. This was damning evidence.

"So she knows you use magic. Double shit. But you think Dust killed her?"

"Yes, and he lacks my... elegance with such things. Her sisters will discover the body in the city and will connect it with what happened at the shipyard."

"It seems less that you are here for advice, and more likely here for a favor." The other man laughed.

"You are my ears. We are a few months away from this all being over. They will have to come up with a new idea, and we'll have a few more years to plan our escape."

"I'll let you know what I hear. Are you sure you don't want to just do this Dust's way?"

"I'm sure. That is a last option, of course, but you and I both know what it will do to the city."

"Yes, but it will expedite things," the other man said.

"Have you spoken to him recently?" the man who had tried to murder me asked.

"Last week. He wanted me to warn you not to get in his way."

"Ha. Figures."

"He did ask when I spoke with you last. It is a shame you two can't work together on this."

"Not going to happen. Our views are not aligned." The criminal spat the words.

"Agreed, but doesn't mean I can't wish. Tell me about the Potentia."

"She was slippery. Dodged my archers and then evaded my scattergun. I thought she would have died when I hit her with the magic, but she crawled out of the lake and killed four of mine."

"Impressive. Do you know who she was?" the second man said.

"I didn't recognize her. I believe she was new. They just promoted a handful."

"I have reports on the new ones. Here, let me grab them. What did she look like?"

"Young. Long brown hair. Very pretty," the dark voice said, and I realized I was pressing my ear hard against the door.

"Very pretty? I don't think you've ever said that about a woman," the second voice said with a laugh, and I heard paper shuffling.

"Ha, don't get romantic on me, uncle."

"Why not? About time someone found you a woman. You won't take the time to do it yourself," the second man laughed.

"I can give you several reasons; most important is that the girl is probably dead."

"Oh, so you have your heart set on her, huh? I kind of guessed it from the tone of your voice when you said she evaded your shotgun," the man laughed, and I heard what sounded like a hand slap a knee.

"What? No, uncle, I'm busy with this war. Also, the woman is a Potentia. I want no fellowship with the Priestess' attack dogs."

"I would guess that woman's name is Anelia Orba. Here is the file I have on her. Do you see the sketch? Was that her?" I heard papers rustle on the other side of the door.

"Yes," the dark-voiced man said.

"Ahhh. I guessed correctly," the other man snickered. "She is in Ocellina's nest. Isn't that strange?"

"No. It isn't. That explains why she was at the shipyard. There isn't much in your file."

"She is new, Ash. Grew up in the Sunrise orphanage on level twelve. Has a twin brother who is a tailor's apprentice. Ranked middle of her training class. Was probably going to wash out this year, but got selected."

I felt my heart skip a beat when the unknown man talked about me. It wasn't as if Potentia were the celebrities of the city, but there were only three hundred of us, and I supposed that criminal organizations would want to keep records. I wondered how much information they had on my sisters. After I arrested the tall man, I would need to confiscate the paperwork from his co-conspirator.

"I'm surprised by that. She was talented," the tall man named Ash said.

"Maybe the training classes are getting better?"

"No, you weren't there. This Potentia is skilled. She flew upside down, avoided a volley of arrows, then dodged a scattergun blast that I aimed perfectly, took a hit from my magic that should have burnt her to a cinder, and then killed four of my warriors." As the deep voice spoke, I tried to keep the feeling of pride out of my chest.

"So what do you think?"

"She's a plant, probably. Someone in her nest might choose to confide in her because she is new, then she'll report back to the Priestesses. Or she might be the new muscle on the shipments. That would explain why she killed Othoro. These murders are stressing his operation," Ash said.

"Or it could be she is lucky. Not everyone is as paranoid as you, nephew. They have hubris. That is how we will win."

"Perhaps you are right. I might be looking too deeply into this Potentia."

"Probably because she impressed you. I understand," the man Ash called his uncle laughed. "Let's hope that her luck ran out and Dust did a good job of disposing of her body. I'll let you know when her sisters begin to investigate."

"Thank you. They will replace Othoro. I guess it will be someone from the upper levels. Maybe a son of one of the Priestesses. Garon's children will take over management of Ver Lake, and the new representative will visit them in the next few weeks," Ash said.

"I'll let you know if I hear anything. Where are you heading?"

"I need to find this murderer," Ash's voice was already dark, but it seemed to drop to a menacing growl.

"Oh?"

"Thanks for the info," Ash said, and I heard some chairs slide across the floor behind the door.

I moved a few dozen feet away from the shop and then leapt into the air. My Alula transformed into feathers, and I lifted into the sky on a chance burst of wind. I glanced down from my glide and saw Ash leave the front of the blacksmith's shop. The man glanced around the street to ensure he wasn't being followed and then walked toward the sixth level of the city.

I sighed when I realized that I wished Fallon was here. Potentia procedure instructed that I should arrest the suspect and take him to the nearest nest. There was no problem with me doing the deed by myself, but I knew that the man Ash had magic. He looked strong, and I suspected he could fight extremely well.

He was also a criminal, and it was my duty to bring him to justice.

I was a Potentia. I swore an oath to uphold the law of our city and protect its citizens. I glanced around at the streets of the bright city below me. There were no guards, so I would really be on my own.

"Doesn't matter. You can do this Anelia," I said to myself.

Then I dove.

Chapter 12

I was like a hunting falcon shooting toward a rabbit. My wings pulled back slightly against my torso, and I got ready to pull them up at the last possible moment. Ash was oblivious to my dive, and as I streaked closer to his broad back I felt a serenity fill me. I'd get first strike, and it would be the last one of the melee.

My wings spread out as I drove my knee into his right kidney. I didn't want to kill Ash, but my attack would probably destroy the organ and knock him unconscious. His back bent around my knee like a snapped bow, and I almost felt bad for the murderer. My empathy only lasted for half a second. The man had tried to kill me a few times and had ordered the death of Garon Mitus. This man was one of the criminal lords who dwelled in the city like barnacles on the rotten underside of a ship, and he didn't deserve any niceties.

The muscular man tumbled to the ground with a cry of agony. His body seemed to seizure for a second, but I had already bent his thick right arm around his back, cuffed his wrist, and then leveraged my knee on the back of his neck. He flopped again, and I didn't know if it was from the shock of my knee, or if he was actually trying to escape. His movement didn't really matter. The other loop of the cuff wrapped around his left wrist, and I had him.

Ash must have possessed extreme pain tolerance. He should have been rendered unconscious, or at least be in shock from the pain. Instead, the man struggled against my handcuffs and attempted to toss my body off him by rolling over.

"You are under arrest for the murder of Garon Mitus, the attempted murder of a Potentia, and the transport of illegal goods through the city." I shouted the words in his ear and was surprised at the confidence I heard in my own voice.

"Mhhhh," he groaned in agony. His body seemed to relax for a second, and then he bucked wildly again. The man almost knocked me off his shoulders, but I still had his left wrist in my hand.

"Do you want to keep this arm?" I asked as I twisted his left wrist away from his shoulder.

He immediately stopped thrashing, and I heard him moan into the dirt of the road.

"This is what is going to happen. I am going to stand away from your shoulders. You are going to remain on the road. If you attempt to move, I will injure you with my sword. Do you understand?" I had been taught extensive joint manipulation so that I could transport suspects safely, but Ash was probably a head taller than me, and each of his arms looked thicker than my leg. Caution was important.

"Do you understand?" I twisted his wrist half an inch in a way it wasn't supposed to move, and the man gasped. Then I saw his head nod onto the dirt road.

"Good," I said. I waited a second or two, and then I cautiously slid from my position on Ash's shoulders. I almost expected him to try and roll again, but he followed my orders and lay on the ground.

"Can you breathe?" I asked as I kneeled by his left elbow. My hand was still on that wrist, and I put some pressure on the limb so that he knew I could break it.

"Yes," he gasped through obvious pain.

"I am going to turn you over into a sitting position. You will roll with your right shoulder. Do you understand?"

"Yes," he grunted.

I took my left hand off of his wrist and pulled on his right elbow to roll him over. His head went to follow his body, and I wrapped my right hand around the side of his neck to control the movement.

Then he was sitting with his ass on the street, legs spread out in front of him, and his hands cuffed behind his back. I almost wanted to stop right there and pat myself on the back, but I'd have plenty of time to congratulate myself later. I wasn't out of danger yet. I still needed to get him locked in one of cells at the nearest nest.

"Do you have any weapons?" I asked, but the man just grunted.

"Do you have any weapons? If I find one, it will upset me." I had my finger on his neck, and I felt his pulse beating rapidly.

"Dagger on my belt at the left hip. Pistol under my coat at my right hip," he said with a pained huff.

I put a little more pressure on his wrist, and he hissed between his teeth while I ran my right hand down his chest. The gun sat in a leather holster on his right hip where he said it would be, and I drew the weapon out carefully. I glanced at the pistol when I pulled it past his chest to check that the hammer was down, and I marveled at the detail. It had silver etching on the flanks and a dark-stained wooden grip. I guessed the weapon probably cost more than seven months of my salary. I tucked the barrel into the front of my belt and then ran my hand over the other side of his muscular torso.

I pulled a simple, but long dagger from his belt and slid it into mine, and then I checked the rest of his body for weapons. I suspected that he had a dagger in his boot, but I didn't want to risk letting go of his wrist to investigate. I should have checked his legs while I had him on his stomach, but I had been too afraid to let go of his arm.

"I am going to take my hand off your wrist and stand you up. Will you comply?" Our training had enforced steps for arresting an individual. Part of the coaching was to tell them what you were going to do and then ask them to cooperate.

"Yes," he grunted, and I moved my right hand to his shoulder and my left hand to his leg.

"On three. One. Two. Three," I counted each number while I pushed on his left knee to rock his body. He stood on three, while I lifted my left hand to his left elbow and obtained another joint lock.

"Now we walk," I said as I held his arm in a twisted position.

"Why am I being arrested?"

"I already told you. Keep your eyes forward." I twisted his arm a bit, and he came up on his toes as he walked to escape the pain.

"Where are we going?" he asked, and I was surprised that his voice was so soft.

"The local nest. Then you will be put in a cell until I file the charges."

We walked for another five minutes, and the man didn't speak. We got a few curious glances from citizens strolling through the wide streets, but it was close to dinner time, and I knew that most of the people who lived on the lower levels needed to sleep early so they could rise when the suns were in their lowest position.

"Are you Anelia?" he asked as he tried to turn his head.

"Eyes forward," I said as I twisted his elbow a bit to enforce my command. It was another ten minutes of walking to the nest, and I was surprised that I hadn't seen any city guard yet. I would have felt a thousand times better with an escort.

"You are wondering why there are no guards around. It is a shift break. That is why I walk through this part of town. The guards are all in the nest getting briefed. It usually takes fifteen minutes, but one of your sisters has a birthday today. Beallutte, I believe. They will be later than usual." His voice was a dark growl that made my ribs vibrate.

Ten more minutes of walking. I could do this. Just stay calm.

"You heard my conversation at the blacksmith's?" he asked as we walked past a tavern filled with loud ranchers.

"Eyes ahead, please." I twisted his arm to make him walk on his toes with a gasp.

"I felt as if someone was following me. Were you in the mine?"

"Save your voice. You will be answering plenty of questions once you are in your cell," I said. Ash must have been correct about the guards; I couldn't believe I hadn't seen a patrol yet. I didn't know if I had the clout to complain directly to this nest's captain, but this was unacceptable.

"What questions will you ask me?" Ash turned his head a bit, but he hissed when my fingers squeezed his hand, closer to breaking it.

"Why you killed Garon, why you stole those crates from the shipyard, what was the chemical in the vials inside the crates, and how you hid the wagon in the farmhouse." There were a dozen other questions I wanted to ask him, like his relationship with the man named Dust and how he could use magic, but I would save those for the official interrogation.

"Ahh, you don't know what is in the vials?"

"No, but you'll tell me when we reach the nest."

"Ahh," I still hadn't seen the man's face, but he turned slightly and I saw part of a smile on his lips.

"I can wait until you are secured. If you want to have a broken wrist, then you can continue talking," I twisted his arm again, and he flexed his chest and gasped.

We were in a denser part of the level now, and the five-story brick building that housed the local Potentia nest towered over the other adobe dwellings. My sanctuary looked as if it was only half a mile away.

"I am guessing you escaped through a tunnel under Rafa Manus' inn. You ended up in the mines. How did you find me there? It is the only piece of the puzzle I am struggling with."

"You are either deaf or you don't care about a broken arm," I sighed.

"I am more surprised that you didn't just kill me," Ash snorted.

"I am arresting you. It is not my role to determine your punishment. That is for the Priestesses."

"What if they told you to kill me?"

"I am not an executioner--"

"No, Anelia, you are a Potentia, but what if one of your Priestesses walked from around that bakery right there," he nodded with his head toward a building we were walking past, "and demanded that you draw your rapier and push the blade through my skull? Would you obey her order?" He tried to look over his shoulder at me, but I pulled on his arm so that he continued to face away from me.

"Your question is ridiculous. No Priestess would demand such a thing of me."

"But if she did?"

"We have a justice system. There will be a trial. You will be allowed to speak on your behalf, or we will provide someone for you. If you are found guilty, then you will be executed."

"But let us just assume that will be the outcome, anyway. From your testimony, I am guilty of murder and the attempted murder of a Potentia. I will be found guilty, and I will be executed. You would be saving everyone time by just killing me now. Especially if your Priestess ordered it."

"I am not an assassin or an executioner. I am a Potentia," I said to the man, and I almost wanted to spin him around so that I could answer him face to face.

"But Potentia serve the Priestesses."

"No, I swore an oath to protect the citizens of Petrasada."

"The oath you swore was to the Priestesses, Potentia," the man let out a deep chuckle. I couldn't believe he was laughing not even ten minutes after I'd almost broken his back.

"You are arguing semantics. Potentia enforce the laws made by the Priestesses. The same laws that protect the citizens of our city."

"So you wouldn't kill me if ordered to?"

"I would defend myself and defend a citizen of this city from any threat."

"I see," he said with a nod. "I was wrong about you."

"You wouldn't be the first."

The nest building was about two hundred yards away. In just a few short minutes I would have the man in his cell and could give my report to the nest captain. I recalled that her name was Giocana.

"I am afraid that I can't let you take me into that nest." His dark voice sounded apologetic.

"You don't have a choice. I'll break your arm if I have to." As I said the words, I remembered that the man had magic. I doubted that he could use any of his power while in handcuffs, but, then again, men weren't even supposed to be able to use magic. I had no idea what he was actually capable of.

"There are always choices, Anelia. Especially if you have prepared."

As he spoke, I saw a man step into the street from around the corner of a dry goods store. He was dressed in rancher clothes, but his flintlock pistol looked polished, and the barrel was pointed at me.

Ash's gun was cocked in my right hand half a second later, and I pulled the big man a few steps away in an effort to put distance between the rancher and my captive.

"Ahh, ahh, ahh," a voice said behind me. I turned my head and saw three more men step into the street. They were still a good twenty feet away from me, but the man on the right held a long rifle, and he casually raised the sight up to his face.

Shit.

Disappointment filled my stomach, along with a chilling splash of fear. I just needed a guard patrol to walk by and I'd be saved, but I was beginning to suspect that Ash had this planned from the start.

"The miners live in my world, Anelia. They aren't touched by the sun, or the Priestesses." Ash sighed. "Let's solve our differences civilly."

"I'm not sure that is possible. You tried to kill me at the shipyard."

Even if I shot the rifleman, one of the other three assassins would shoot me before I could get away. Did Ash have this planned? I doubted he could have known I was following him. He must have been on the way to this part of the city, and his men set up the ambush ad hoc.

"I'll let you live today if you'll unlock my cuffs." Ash shook his hands behind his back, and I heard the victory in his deep voice.

I still hesitated. My only leverage was the gun, and the bullet that I could put through Ash's head before the other men shot me. If I took his cuffs off, then I would be relying on the word of a murdering criminal.

There was some unspoken signal, and the four men drew back the hammers of their guns in a single motion. Ash's body tensed against my arm, and I guessed that the big man was preparing for his men to act on his order.

"I'll give you something else besides your life. Maybe that will sweeten the deal? I don't particularly want to kill you now."

"You had no hesitation at the shipyard," I said. My heart was beating in my chest, and the edges of my vision darkened with the effects of adrenaline.

"That was before I spoke with you, Anelia. You might not realize this, but we are on the same side." Ash made another attempt to look over his shoulder at me, but I kept my leverage on his arm so that he couldn't turn.

"I doubt that," I said through my tight jaw. Shit, I saw no way out of this mess. I'd lose any advantage if I released Ash.

"You didn't ask me about the gift. I am looking for the same murderer you are. I have some leads. I'll give them to you. You can investigate. You'll find the murderer and close the case. The man committing the acts is a danger to everyone in Petrasada, and he needs to be brought to justice."

"I currently have a murderer in custody who is a danger to everyone in Petrasada, and he only needs to be dragged another two hundred yards." I was conscious of the gunmen's weapons aimed at me.

"I'm not a danger to Petrasada, Anelia. There is more going on here than you realize," Ash whispered. "Let me go. I'll give you these leads, and you can catch this murderer. Then you can come after me again. Let's deal. I need your help, and you need mine."

"I don't need your help," I said.

"But you do. I doubt you have any leads that point to the murderer. Maybe you've got a list of names you are investigating, but I can promise you that they are the wrong people. You will not find the murderer there, and you might end up dead."

I debated the man's words and glanced between the gunmen. What were my options? He wouldn't give me more than a few seconds to decide, and I realized that my best option was taking the murderer at his word. It was probably the last mistake I would make in my short career, but I felt that my other choice would end in certain death.

"Fine. I will remove your cuffs." I seethed as I spoke the words and reached for the keys on my belt.

"Good decision," Ash said as I unlocked the metal around his wrists.

"I'm already regretting it," I sighed when the cuffs fell away from his hands.

"You won't." Ash nodded to his men. "Lower your guns, friends. The Potentia and I have reached an agreement." The gunmen slowly followed their boss' instructions, and Ash turned around to face me for the first time.

He was handsome, much more attractive than I would have thought, and if he had come up to me in a tavern, it probably would have made my heart flutter with nervousness. Ash's hair was a darker brown than mine, and his bangs fell over his eyes a bit. The eyes were strange looking. They were a light brown, and they almost looked yellow like a cat's. His cheekbones were high and rounded, and his mouth formed a full smile that revealed perfectly set teeth. The man's skin was a rich tan color, which I thought was strange because I had tailed him from the mines.

We stared at each other for a few moments, and then he reached his hand out toward me with his palm facing the sky.

"Can I have my pistol back, please?" he asked with a careful smile.

I still had the weapon pointed at him, and the decorated gun was my last piece of leverage in the situation. The surrounding men had lowered their weapons, but, they could shoot me as soon as I handed the pistol back to Ash.

But I had already decided to agree with him.

I uncocked the hammer and set the pistol in his palm. He lowered it away from me carefully and then holstered the weapon at his right hip without looking. It was a practiced movement, and I wondered how skilled the handsome man was with the weapon.

He's a murderer, not a handsome man, I reminded myself.

"Can I have my dagger back as well? It is a simple tool, but it was a gift that I would hate to part with."

I pulled the naked blade from my belt, flipped it in my hand, and placed the hilt on his palm. He nodded at me as he sheathed the weapon.

"Don't look so sour, Anelia," his mouth twisted into a charming smirk.

"You said you had leads for me?" I spat at him. I needed to control this situation somehow.

"Yes, let's speak inside the tavern." He pointed behind me to the building we had passed a few moments ago.

"No, we'll speak out here in the street."

"I can't do that, Anelia. Your guards will exit the nest in the next few moments. I want to give you these names. I want you to find the murderer, but we'll each have questions for each other. It is best to talk over a drink," he smiled slightly at me.

I didn't answer for a second as I pondered the man's request. He could very well shoot me inside the tavern, but then there would be numerous witnesses. There had been a few citizens walking around the street, but most of them had stayed clear of our conflict.

Maybe I should just count myself lucky and escape now, but then I would be back where I started with the list of names I took from Aetius Colo's ledger. Perhaps Ash would give me a name that was also on the list could help guide me to the next suspect.

"Let's make it quick," I said as I gestured toward the tavern. "After you?"

"Excellent. I'll ask my men to give us some privacy."

I followed Ash to the tavern door and walked in after him. I had never been in the place before, and it was larger than I expected. Most of the patrons were craftsmen; blacksmiths, carpenters, masons, or one of the other classes of workers that were higher up the social ladder from miners, ranchers, and farmers. A lute player sang in the corner of the large room, and a group of four men danced beside the bard.

Ash pointed at a table in the back of the tavern, and we slid along the adobe wall to get there. Most of the attention in the pub was focused on the dancing men, and the only two people who seemed to realize that a Potentia had entered were the barkeeper and one of the serving maids.

"You can sit with your back to the wall," Ash offered when we reached the table in the corner. It was made of rough bamboo and covered with a sticky layer of beer.

The wall behind the chair he gestured to was thick adobe. Perhaps I was being paranoid, but I half expected this entire tavern invitation to be an elaborate trap. I took the seat with my back against the clay brick and crossed my arms over my chest.

"Sorry, I will clean the table. I didn't expect a Potentia to come in." One of the serving girls was blushing furiously and used a damp cloth to clean the sticky beer from the bamboo surface.

"That is fine," Ash said. "Can you bring us two beers?"

"Water," I corrected.

"Of course," the girl nodded to me and retreated to the bar.

"What did you hear at my uncle's shop?" he asked. The bar was loud, and I had to read his lips to understand his question.

"Are you going to give me those leads?" I ignored his question.

"You are pretty when you are angry," he said as he smiled at me.

The words caught me completely off guard, and I stared at the handsome man while I thought about what to say next.

"You are pretty when you aren't angry, of course, but when your eyes narrow and your lips set in that line, I feel as though I should continue to anger you." His eyes lingered on my lips, and I fought against the chaotic spin of emotions in my stomach. He was trying to shake my focus, and I wouldn't let him.

The girl came back with a large glass of beer for each of us and an extra water mug for me. Ash raised his beer in my direction with a smirk on his face and then took a deep gulp.

"I'm going to be pissing blood for a few weeks," he said after he set the beer down on the table.

"Yet you are drinking beer. Are you going to give me those leads?" I asked again.

"Are you going to drink your beer?"

"I am on duty, and you are a criminal that tried to kill me. I am not drinking with you."

"That is a good point. I apologize for attempting to shoot you with buckshot."

"How can you use magic?" I asked over the cheers of the crowd.

"Ahh," he said as he picked up his beer and took another drink of the yellowish liquid. "Maybe you should ask why no one else can use magic?"

"You are trying to anger me."

"I already explained my reasons why I would do that." He raised an eyebrow and smiled at me.

"I am going to leave if you don't stop," I said. I still felt tense in my shoulders, and I was beyond angry that the man had escaped me, but I had to admit that I was interested in the leads that he offered about the murders.

I could easily catch Ash again. I knew his face now, and every nest would have a sketch of him within a day. There would be nowhere he could hide.

"Ahhh, very well," he sighed. "Take out your notebook. You'll want to write these down."

I pulled out my pencil and the pad I used for writing. Then I looked at him with a raised eyebrow. He was taking another swig of his beer, and the glass was only a quarter full.

"Balabus Cotin is a refuse collector. He works in the lower thirties. I do not know where he lives, but he often visits a tavern called the Blue Swill on the twenty-first level."

"I know of the place," I said.

"Calter Montigar is a beer and moonshine seller for Restina."

"The brewers?" I asked.

"Yes. He works in your nest's territory," Ash said.

"Are these just the names of your criminal enemies?" I asked as I shook my head.

"There are two more I suspect. Would you like their names?" He raised both of his eyebrows, and his mouth curled into a smile that somehow made my pulse quicken.

"Fine," I answered.

"Fontyane Veer is a guard in your nest. Do you know him?"

"No, but I am really having trouble believing you now. I doubt a guard is committing these murders. Especially one from my nest."

"The last one I suspect is Marcel Jocar. He is a city tax collector." Ash took the last gulp of his beer after he spoke and then set the glass on the table.

"I'll humor you for a moment and ask why you think one of these four men is responsible for the serial murders in the city."

"Each of them had dealings with the slain," Ash answered with a shrug. The barmaid came to take away his glass, and she set another full one in front of him. The attractive man thanked her before he turned his strange gold eyes back to me.

"What kind of dealings? You didn't answer my earlier question about these men being your enemies."

"Potentia often use informants, correct?" he asked.

"Yes," I answered.

"They are people who you could arrest, but you keep them out away from the Priestess' eyes so that they can pass you info on bigger fish. You'll take their info and investigate it to see if it is true or not. This is what I am passing to you."

"Except informants are normally guilty of petty crimes, not murder and the attempted murder of a Potentia," I glanced at the written names again and committed them to memory.

"I've given you a gift, Anelia. You can use it if you want to, or you can continue to hunt me. One activity will result in you finding the serial murderer, the other will only result in you chasing shadows for the rest of your career," Ash said.

"I doubt it. I know how to find you."

"Oh?"

"Yes, your uncle. Or so you called him."

"So you heard our conversation. I suspected as much." Ash smiled and took the first drink from his second glass of beer.

"Why did you suspect as much?"

"You didn't seem surprised when I knew your name. The only reason for that would be if you had followed me from the mine. How did you find me there?"

"How do you know magic?" I kicked back the question I had asked earlier.

"I already gave you the answer."

"That wasn't satisfactory. Men can't use magic."

"Perhaps we can talk about it again over drinks," Ash said as he stood up from his chair. "I hate to leave you unsatisfied."

"Sit back down, I still have questions for you," I ordered as I tried to fight the heat that came to my cheeks.

This man is a criminal, Anelia. Keep yourself in check.

"We'll talk again after you find the killer." Ash smiled at me.

"I will arrest you, Ash."

"Investigate those names first. Then you can come looking for me," he said as he pushed his chair under the table.

"I know your face. By tomorrow, every nest will have an illustration of you, and the guards will search for you. You can't hide from me."

"Maybe I don't want to hide from you? You know where my uncle is. Once you find the murderer, then you can meet me there. I'll let you arrest me then. That is, if you are still interested in arresting me." Ash gave me another smirk.

"I will be--"

"I have work to do, Anelia. It was a pleasure meeting you. I'm going to walk out the door. Sit here, finish your beer, and then you can exit."

"So your men can take up position to shoot me?"

"No, so I can escape you without getting the city guards involved. I just went through a lot of trouble to hand over those leads. As I said before, I'm no longer interested in killing you. I am more interested in you finding the murderer." He tossed a few coins onto the table, and then his gold eyes met mine. "I can't force you to do or not do your job, but if you put out an alert to arrest me, then you won't have a chance to question me. I'll be killed in the next few days, and you'll never have the answers to the questions you are looking for."

"What are you hinting at? Why would you be killed?"

"Think about it, perhaps while you recite your Potentia oath?"

We stared at each other for a few more moments. Then he nodded at me before he turned to walk out of the tavern.

My emotions spun in my stomach, and I tried to fight them with my brain. These leads were probably phony. I was letting Ash get away, and I wasn't doing my job as a Potentia.

Unless these leads were legitimate and one of these four men was the killer. If that was the case, then I would be able to arrest them and put an end to these murders. I could always catch Ash at a later date. Petrasada was a massive city, but the handsome man wouldn't be able to hide forever. I would bring him to justice eventually.

I waited for a minute after he left, and then I walked out of the tavern and into the streets. They were mostly empty since citizens were still in the middle of their meal time. My Alula changed into wings as soon as I stepped into the street, and I launched myself high into the bright sky.

I didn't see Ash or his gunmen anywhere, so I turned toward the location of the Blue Swill tavern and began my flight.

Chapter 13

The flight took me five minutes, and I used the time to review the clues of the case. There were six victims so far; seven if I counted Garon at the shipyard. Four were killed in the last few months before I took my Potentia oath. Rafa Manas was a tavern owner, and moonshine maker. Aetius Colo was a glass maker and had noted in his hidden ledger that he had dealings with Manas, as well as Garon Mitus, who was also now dead. The ledger also pointed to a Pruet Carna, a Damara Trillion, a Laramae A, and a man named Dust. Ash had also mentioned that the man I'd killed at the shipyard was named Othoro.

There had to be a pattern that I couldn't discern. I didn't know who Pruet Carna, Damara Trillion, and Laramae A. were, but I guessed that Dust was the same kind of criminal element as Ash, or at least, Ash had seemed to speak of the man with familiarity at the blacksmith's shop.

The obvious similarity was that Rafa, Aetius, and Garon were owners. They ran businesses, and the only connection I saw beyond that was that the other men shared a connection with Rafa. I thought about the four men killed in the months before I took office. I wasn't intimately familiar with the details of their cases, but I had read through each report three times.

Quentin Eamat owned a leather shop. He specialized in building carrying cases and backpacks. He was the first to be murdered. His throat had been torn open by teeth, and his arms had been chewed on as if by some animal. His assistant had been questioned, but the man had an alibi, and the report said he was distraught with grief.

Valteera Royar was the second victim. She'd had her right arm ripped from her torso and had bled out on the floor of her craft room. The woman was an artisan pot maker and was apparently well known in the middle levels of Petrasada for her craftsmanship.

Tronique Ballator was a bronze and brass smith. The woman was known for her detailed metal oil lamps, moonshine flasks, and distillery equipment. She was small of build, and the report said she had been strangled. Ballator had two assistants, but they were both with their families at the time of their master's murder. Her murder occurred the night before the last Moon Night, and her death caused the riots that led to the slaying of my sisters. Hundreds of citizens were taken into custody, and over twenty were executed.

Narius Manin had been murdered a week before I received my Alula. The man was a carpenter known for crafting barrels and stout working surfaces for other artisans. He had been killed when the murderer pushed bamboo stakes through his eyes and into his brain. Narius worked with eight assistants, but they had all been drinking at a local tavern and had been waiting for their boss to join them.

I almost stopped mid-flight as soon as I finished thinking about Narius. Besides being craftsmen and owners, the victims had something else in common.

They had all dismissed their apprentices and workers for the night. Why?

I thought about their industries. Save for Rafa, they all crafted some sort of container or way to carry items.

A hunch formed in my head, and I actually did pause my flight. I hung a few hundred feet over the city, and a soft breeze caressed my cheeks. Ash's leads were already memorized, but I pulled my notebook from my pocket anyway to look at the names on the flapping paper. The handsome criminal had given me four men with jobs visiting business owners in my part of the city. Either to retrieve waste, deliver alcohol, perform guard duties, or collect taxes. The victims had expected to meet with someone, and I bet that if I investigated their shops, I would find that each of the deceased had an abundance of inventory stashed somewhere.

The victims dismissed their staff because they wanted to sell those goods under the table. Either they didn't want to be taxed on them or they didn't want anyone to know that they sold them. Perhaps my deduction was incorrect, but the circumstances made me think these people were all involved with the strange liquid that I found in Garon's shipyard.

What about Dust? What about Ash? The first man's name had been in the ledger, but Ash warned me that investigating any of the leads I thought I had would probably end with my death. What was the relationship between the two men? From the conversation I had overheard at the blacksmith's, I guessed that the two were familiar with each other.

One problem at a time, Anelia.

I angled my body through the sky and plummeted toward the Blue Swill tavern. I'd been there once with my brother and Severa, but we didn't like the atmosphere as much as Juliana's restaurant. I landed at the doorstep of the white-painted adobe building and pushed open the thickly banded bamboo door. A flood of hurricane-like sound spilled from inside, and I pushed against the torrent and waded through the doorway.

The inside was the same as I recalled, meaning that it looked almost exactly like every other tavern one would find in the twenty or teen levels. It was filled with craftsmen and a few ranchers. Each group of tables attempted to shout their conversation over each other, but as soon as I closed the door behind me, the colloquy died suddenly, and I felt sixty pairs of eyes turn to me.

The silence was almost more of a surprise than the torrent of noise, and my ears rang. The faces in the tavern didn't look angry, but their expressions made me think that no Potentia may ever have set foot inside the place. If that was the case, then I thought it was a shame. Most of the communities would gather nightly around various taverns or restaurants to eat and socialize. If my sisters did not visit these places regularly, then the chances were that they were not building a good relationship with the citizens they had sworn to protect.

"Good evening, citizens. I am looking for a Balabus Cotin. Is he here?" Their attention made me nervous, but I forced my voice to be strong, and I asked the question with a smile on my face.

The crowd looked toward a corner of the bar. I half expected one of the men sitting there to stand up and declare that he was Balabus, but the expression on the faces of the patrons made me think that they were somewhat surprised that he wasn't sitting at the bar.

"He hasn't come in yet, Potentia," said the barkeeper. He had a shaved head and a tattoo of wings on his muscular left forearm. I would have guessed that the man was a miner from his broad shoulders and lack of a tan.

"Are you the owner?" I asked as I stepped across the room toward him.

"Yes ma'am," he answered as he bowed his shaved head slightly.

"I would like to ask you some questions."

"We can step into the back, ma'am." He nodded his head again.

"That is okay. We can speak over here." I gestured for him to step out from behind the bar and stand next to me in the corner by the door leading to his rear storage room. I put my back against the exit so that I could face the man and still see the front entrance of the tavern. This was where a wingmate would have been helpful. If I had stepped into the back with this man, chances were that someone from the tavern would run out the door and alert Balabus that we were looking for him. Fallon could have tailed that person to wherever our suspect was hiding.

"What is your name, citizen?" I asked. The conversation in the Blue Swill had resumed, but the volume was reduced to whispers. I could tell that the patrons at the bar were leaning toward us in an attempt to eavesdrop.

"Rellet Cotin, ma'am," he answered as he wiped his hands with a dishtowel. The man's eyes darted between my face, my Alula, and the hilt of my rapier.

"Cotin?" I asked.

"Yes, ma'am. Balabus is my cousin."

"I see. How often does he eat here?"

"Pretty much every night. I give him a discount since he is family." Rellet laughed nervously and ran his right hand over his scalp. "Is he in any sort of trouble?"

"When was the last time you saw him?" I asked.

"Last night. He used the shower in the back and then came in to eat about this time. He's been sweet on a leather worker's apprentice, and they've been talking at the bar until I close up every night. She is already here." Rellet nodded his head toward the end of the bar farthest from me, and I saw a petite blonde woman sitting there.

The girl was staring at us intently, and when I turned my eyes toward her, I saw her face whiten, and she glanced at her beer.

"Shower?" I asked the tattooed man.

"Yes, he stinks of shit, piss, and garbage when he finishes his duties. It is a hard job, collecting all the waste from the low thirties and then carting it down to level one. My cousin loves it though, and the pay is good. He can take a shower at the compost location, but then he has to hike back up twenty levels and gets all sweaty again. I think he is going to ask that girl to marry him, and he doesn't want to stink when he talks to her."

"Was he here the night before last?" I asked. I was starting to feel as if I could take Balabus off the suspect list.

"Yes, ma'am. I can't actually recall the last time he wasn't here."

"Have you noticed any change in his behavior in the last few months, or last few weeks?"

"Haha," he laughed. "Meeting a girl will change a man. He's less of an asshole now." Rellet shrugged his shoulders, and I could tell that the man was starting to become more comfortable talking to me.

"Where does he live?"

"On the twenty fifth. He rents a room over a cobbler's shop. It is a small place, and he doesn't have a shower there. Potentia, please, can you tell me if he is in trouble?"

"I only wanted to question him about his whereabouts for the last few nights. Can you show me this shower?" I was almost certain that Balabus was innocent of the killings, but I thought that I'd do due diligence and investigate the shower. If Rellet's cousin was the murderer, then there might be some blood or other evidence.

"Sure, it is back here." The man gestured with a wide hand to the door I stood behind.

"After you please," I said as I stepped away from my spot to follow the man. I was going to miss anyone who’d run out of the tavern, but I felt confident that Balabus wasn't guilty of anything more than courting a pretty girl.

"It is here. Sorry it isn't very clean." Rellet took me through his kitchen, which actually was surprisingly clean, through a storage room, and into a side area where I saw a tiled tub with a bamboo shower bucket suspended overhead. There was a rope one could pull to tip the bucket, which would enable water to flow down a spout and onto anyone in the tub.

The tub was dirty, but not entirely disgusting. There was a closed window on the far wall, and I pointed to it without speaking. Rellet followed my instructions and opened the shutters. I leaned down into the tub, but besides a bunch of dirt that smelled faintly of feces to my sensitive nose, I didn't see any blood.

"When you see your cousin, you can let him know that I came in looking for him, but that you were able to answer the questions. I might come ask him a few more, but he doesn't need to worry about anything."

"I understand, Potentia."

"Thank you for your time, can I exit out this door?"

"Yes." He nodded and then moved to unlock it for me.

"Have a nice night," I said as I walked out into the orange light of the evening.

"I will. I hope you find who you are looking for."

I jumped in the air, and my Alula transformed into feathers. A few seconds later, I floated high in the sky over the city again. It was only one lead of the four that Ash had given me, so I shouldn't have been disappointed that Balabus wasn't the murderer, but I couldn't ignore the feeling that Ash may have given me the names to waste my time. What would I do when I finished investigating the three other suspects and found that they all had alibis?

I pivoted on my wings and glanced toward my territory. Part of me wanted to return to my nest and explain my situation to Captain Ocellina, but it was evening now, and she had probably gone home for the night. What would I even tell her? The day had been a series of mistakes and missteps. It would look even worse for me if I explained that I was chasing after leads provided by someone who had tried to kill me. No, I would finish digging into the information that Ash provided and then follow up with the captain and Fallon tomorrow morning during our briefing.

That gave me roughly twelve hours to investigate Ash's list. I could do that easily, even without Fallon. I pulled the notebook out of my pocket once again to double check my memory. Then I flew toward where Restina's distillery was located.

Chapter 14

The Restina distillery was one of the largest buildings in my nest's territory. It would have been less expensive for them to have their location on a lower floor, but transporting their beer, moonshine, whiskey, mead, and wine up Petrasada's steep ramps was significantly riskier, so most sanctioned distilleries tended to base their brewing operations close to the levels where they sold their inventory.

The building was made of stone brick painted a light peach color. The roof was green tile the color of new grass, and I saw that there were still plenty of workers loading barrels of beer onto donkey carts. People needed to eat, and most preferred alcohol to wash the meal down with.

The group of workers stopped their tasks when I landed next to them. I saw fear flash through their eyes, and it made me sigh. I wanted to protect these people, not intimidate them.

"Good evening," I said as I smiled to the group of four men.

"Good evening, Potentia," the largest of the men said as he held his hand up to his eyes.

I stood with my back to the low suns, and I guessed that he couldn't see me without shading his face, so I stepped around the side of the cart.

"I am looking for--" I stopped speaking when a shadow fell over us. We glanced up, and I fought back a sigh of frustration.

Fallon landed next to me.

The woman's face was set with displeasure, and she shook her head to pull the blonde bangs from her face. We stared at each other for a second, and then she crossed her arms.

"What were you going to ask them?" she asked as her eyes narrowed.

"I'm looking for Calter Montigar," I said after I turned to the men. My heart pounded in my chest, and I wondered why Fallon was here. Had she heard about my run in with Ash? Did she know about my narrow escape from Dust?

"He is out on deliveries," the worker said.

"Do you know when he'll get back?" Fallon asked, much to my surprise.

"Should be back anytime now. Or in the next hour. Sometimes he gets caught up talking to customers."

"Do you have a map of his route?" I asked.

"Karmane does inside. She is the distribution manager. Tall woman with long gray hair."

"Thank you citizen, we will go speak with her." Fallon smiled at the man and then gestured with her head for me to follow her.

"Why are you here?" she asked when we had stepped a few dozen feet away from the workers.

"I'm following a lead," I said.

"What lead?" she asked.

"Do you even care? You left me at the farmhouse." The angry words poured from my mouth, and I regretted saying them almost immediately.

"I care because you were right about the wagon."

"Huh?" I asked her. I doubted I could hide my surprise.

"I flew around to some of the nearby farmhouses and talked to the workers. No one recalled seeing any wagons heading from the lake. I was preparing to fly back to the city and tell the captain about how useless you are, but I saw a group of kids heading back from the lake. They said that they had seen a group of twenty men following behind a wagon that cut through the field to the farmhouse."

"Really?" I couldn't believe what my wingmate was telling me. Actually, I could believe it, because I knew that the wagon traveled that way, but I had given up hope that Fallon would find any proof.

"Yes, so I went back to the farmhouse and searched again. I didn't find anything in the barn, but I noticed a piece of paper wrapped around a fence post outside." The blonde woman pulled out the folded piece of paper and handed it to me.

"This is an invoice from Restina to Rafa Manus," I stated the obvious as my eyes took in the paper. It felt somewhat damp in my hand, and I raised it to my nose to inhale the scent of the lake.

"Yes. I thought it was weird that we found it all the way down at the farmhouse. That is a three hour or more walk," Fallon sighed.

"So you came here to investigate."

"Now it is your turn, pigeon. Why are you here?"

I considered telling Fallon the truth about the last four hours, but I doubted that the woman would believe me. If anything, she might decide that these leads were useless if I told her that Ash had given them to me. No, the only person in my sisterhood who I knew would take my statement seriously and send a group to investigate the monsters I had discovered was the captain. I could wait to tell her everything.

"I went to speak with Rafa's widow. She gave me the names of men who her husband had seen in the last two weeks outside of his usual schedule. All four of them have occupations that could have put them in contact with any of the other victims." It felt terrible to lie, especially to my wingmate, but I knew the alternative would not lead us anywhere productive. "I planned on investigating them myself and then following up with you in the morning." When I finished speaking, the woman nodded.

"Seems like too much of a coincidence that we are both here. Let's go talk to Karmane and get a list of Calter's customers." She increased her pace, and I let out a slow breath of nervous energy when we reached the roofed part of the warehouse.

We spotted the gray-haired woman at the far side of the building. She was standing over a dozen barrels and making marks in a thick ledger. As soon as we entered the covered part of the building, my nose was embraced by the sweet and bitter smells of beer, whiskey, and poplar wood. The woman glanced up from her writing as we approached, looked back at her book, and then glanced back to us in surprise.

"How can I help you, Potentia?"

"We are looking for Calter Montigar. The workers outside said he was out on deliveries, but they indicated that you might have a list of his customers," I said.

"Is he in trouble?" she asked with her eyes wide. The woman had the same hardness to her features that Fallon possessed.

"No, we just wish to ask him some questions. Can you give us his customer list?" Fallon asked. Her voice had taken on the gentle tonality that I heard her use with the widow Manus.

"Yes, of course. It is in my office. Please follow me."

"Was Rafa Manus one of his customers?" I asked as we walked toward Karmane's office.

"Yes. It is quite unfortunate. I'd met Rafa many times. He was a nice man and a long-time customer of ours."

"Who provides your glassware?" Fallon asked as we passed a dozen shelves stacked with sealed bottles of whiskey.

"We get them from craftsman all over the city," the gray-haired woman answered over her shoulder.

"Was Aetius Colo one of your suppliers?" Fallon asked.

"Yes, that was unfortunate as well. You don't suspect Calter do you?" the woman reached a bamboo door and held it open for us. Fallon walked in before me without any concern, and I forced the memory of the widow Manus locking me in the cellar down into my stomach before I followed my wingmate inside.

"We are questioning anyone who had contact with the victims," I said.

"Was Narius Manin one of your suppliers?" Fallon asked while Karmane pulled out a drawer of her desk.

"Yes, he was. He supplied us with most of the shelving, and with our larger beer barrels." The gray-haired woman frowned as she spoke.

"How about Tronique Ballator?" I asked, and I saw Fallon nod at my question.

"Yes. He helped us build and maintain most of our distilleries."

"Valteera Royar?" I asked.

"Yes," Karmane sighed. "She made some of the vats for our wine and mash."

"Quentin Eamat?" Fallon asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, He made some of our bottle satchels." The woman shook her long hair. "Listen, I can understand your line of questioning, but we have over forty suppliers just for raw brewing components. We have another thirty for our equipment. If you think Calter has something to do with this, well, you are wrong. He has no contact with any of our suppliers. He just delivers orders and makes sure our customers are happy."

"Was he working here two nights ago?" Fallon asked.

"No he wasn't." Karmane's shoulder slumped. She held a single piece of parchment in her hand, and Fallon held her fingers out. The older woman put the schedule in my wingmate's hand without protest.

"Just because someone is a suspect, it doesn't mean they are guilty," I reassured the woman.

"This is the order in which he is supposed to visit them?" Fallon asked.

"Yes."

"What does Calter look like?" I asked.

"He is tall, skinny, has a mop of blond hair. He'll be with one of our covered donkey carts."

"Thank you for your help. We will return if we need more from you."

"You are welcome," the woman said, but her eyes flashed angrily for a second.

I followed Fallon out of the office and back through the warehouse. As soon as we exited the building, my wingmate's Alula transformed into feathers, and I followed her flight into the sky. She didn't go far, just to the top of Restina's building, where she perched on the roof.

"Let's start from the end and work our way up the list. Look for a cart similar to the ones we saw down below," Fallon pointed at the tavern at the bottom of the list. It was named Malt Pour, and while I never had the money to patronize the expensive restaurant, I knew exactly where it was.

"Got it," I said as I leapt into the air after Fallon. We swooped across the city levels with a gust of wind and passed our nest building on the way to the Malt Pour. I didn't see any donkey carts that looked like they belonged to Restina on the street below, and we were soon hovering above our destination.

"I'll go in and ask. Keep a look out," Fallon yelled over the wind. I nodded at her order, and the blonde woman plummeted toward the building like a stone.

I scanned the crowds below. It was well past dinner time now, and the streets were thick with citizens heading home to rest or to begin their night shift. I didn't see any larger donkey carts on the road, and Fallon exited the restaurant half a minute later. She shook her head at me, launched into the air, and pointed down the road.

We flew for another half a minute, and then my wingmate pointed to the street. There was a donkey cart there, and it had the Restina brand symbol painted on the bamboo side.

Fallon and I fell to the street in a controlled swoop. The broad-featured woman's face split into a grin, and she gestured toward the door.

"Let's go, pigeon." Fallon winked at me, and it almost sounded like she said my title endearingly, instead of as an insult. Then I realized that the woman was pointing to the sign on the door.

"The Spotted Pigeon," I read the name of the tavern with a sigh.

"Yep, perhaps this is your good fortune. Maybe we'll crack the case in here. Get your feathers ready." Fallon pushed open the twin-hinged doors of the restaurant, and I followed her inside.

This tavern sat on the thirty-third level, and the difference in status showed when compared to the interior of the Blue Swill. The furniture was a mixture of wood and bamboo, some of the walls were made of stone brick, and actual paintings hung on the walls. A harpsichord stood in the corner of the room, and a pair of beautiful women performers danced to a three-beat piece being played upon the instrument.

The dining room was about twice the size of Juliana's, but half of the tables were empty. I wasn't surprised, since the suns hung past dinner time. At the far side of the room, I saw four barrels with the Restina brand painted upon their wood, and there were half a dozen stone jugs of rice wine sitting on top of them.

At the corner of the bar stood a tall, lanky man with a mop of shaggy blond hair.

The crowd hushed slightly when Fallon and I entered, but it wasn't as dramatic a silence as when I had walked into the Blue Swill. My wingmate and I walked toward the bar, and I noticed Fallon rest her hand on the pommel of her rapier.

Calter's back was to us, but the barkeep noticed our approach, and his eyes opened with obvious surprise. The blonde man jerked his head around, and his mouth hung open. The expression on his face was a strange mix of terror, hatred, and feral rage.

"Shit. He's going to run," Fallon sighed.

Calter jumped over the bar with an athletic hand spring and dashed through the rear door into the back of the restaurant.

The crowd in the restaurant gasped when Fallon and I sprinted after Ceel. I leapt over the bar first, and my Alula gave me a slight wing-push to sling-shot me through the swinging door. The room back here was a kitchen, and four chefs toiled over various wood stoves, metal fryers, and cutting tables.

The lanky blond man had already pushed passed the workers, and he was just a few steps away from another swinging door.

"Halt!" I commanded, but the shout was more to follow procedure. I knew the man wasn't going to stop, and he didn't.

Calter darted through the next door, and I saw him knock over a large shelf on the other side. I was only thirty feet behind him, and I jumped over the fallen shelf and scattered food ingredients without pause. There was another door at the end of the storage room, and the blond man ran into the orange light of the evening suns.

Before the door closed, he turned and threw something at me.

"Look out!" I shouted as the flaming glass bottle spun through the air. I heard Fallon gasp behind me, but neither one of us had a chance to stop our sprint, and there wasn't enough room in the narrow storage hallway to dodge to the side. Time seemed to slow down, and my muscles felt as if they were filled with adobe brick.

I jumped toward the spinning glass bottle.

It was incredibly risky, but so was trying to sprint past the twirling glass. If it broke against the shelves, Fallon and I would be covered in flames. Our Alulas might protect us from some of the burning, but I wouldn't know for sure, and I didn't want to trust the magic. My hands reached out toward the twisting fire, and my fingers closed around the sides of the bottle. I'd spent most of my childhood tossing rocks with my friends, and I thanked the Priestesses as soon as the moonshine cradled against my leather-armored stomach.

I felt the heat on my chest, and for a fraction of a second I thought that the bottle was going to explode against me despite my catch, but the bottle didn't break. I landed from my leap, stumbled slightly toward the door, felt my cloak transform to hold me steady, and then I burst out the rear of the restaurant with Fallon right at my heels.

"Good catch, pigeon!" my wingmate gasped as soon as the evening suns touched our heads.

Calter seemed to have gained another twenty feet on us, and I could see him turn into an alley behind a distant building.

"I'm going to set this down. I'll catch up!" I said as I put the flaming bottle on the stone road besides the building. My partner grunted, and I heard her boots scrape against the cobblestones of the road as she darted away.

I used the magic blue cape to pat down the flames at the top of the moonshine bottle. The fabric burned as soon as I patted it on the flame, but the black marks healed almost as soon as I pulled the magical cloth away. I had the flame extinguished in a handful of seconds, and I turned around to catch the tail end of Fallon's cloak disappear around the corner.

I figured that I could flank Calter from the air if the man was busy trying to evade Fallon on the ground. My wings formed around my back, and they beat a trio of strong pulls that carried me into the sky. Even just a few feet above the rooflines, the air smelled pure, and I opened the magical feathers to let the wind carry me forward toward the far building.

The blond man was running surprisingly fast, and he'd gained almost a hundred yards on me. Fallon didn't seem to be catching up to him, and as I watched, he leapt on top of a covered donkey wagon, bounded to the nearest building, and somehow seemed to sprint with even more speed across the terracotta rooftop.

I climbed higher in the air and made an estimation of where the lanky runner would end up if I dove toward him. My wings arched behind me, and I fell toward the top of the rooftop. Calter glanced behind him as he ran, but he only seemed to look at Fallon, who had just sprung onto the roof and was gliding toward him. I approached at a higher angle, and I guessed I would be able to take him unnoticed, just as I had done with Ash.

"Stop running!" Fallon yelled after the man, a second before I reached him.

My attack was clumsier than my strike on Ash, but my foot caught him in the side of the stomach, and the strike knocked Calter over sideways like a tumbling horseshoe. He bounced off the terracotta tiles, rolled toward the edge of the roof, and managed to catch the edge of the rain gutter with his right hand.

"That is quite a drop down to the street. Probably thirty feet," Fallon remarked as she stepped toward the edge of the roof.

"Ugh! Help me!" Calter pleaded. He reached his left hand up to grasp the rain gutter, but Fallon's booted toe slid to the edge of the roof and pushed his fingers away.

"I'm feeling a little angry that you tried to burn my wingmate and me alive."

"Shit! I'm sorry. Please, my fingers are slipping." He tried to grab again with his free hand, but Fallon's kick was more aggressive this time.

My heart spun in my chest, and I bit my lip. This wasn't our usual procedure when arresting a criminal, and I was worried that Calter might fall to his death. Then we would have no suspect and an angry captain, and I would feel responsible for not stopping my partner.

"Fallon..." I whispered, but the blonde woman raised her palm toward me to cut off my next words.

"You are under arrest for the murder of Rafa Manus and for assaulting two Potentia. Do you understand the charges?" Fallon sighed.

"Rafa Manus? What? Noooo!" Calter's fingers slipped free of the gutter, and I felt my breath catch in my throat.

Fallon was already diving over the edge of the roof. I jumped after her and breathed a sigh of relief when I saw the woman had caught Calter and was slowly floating to the ground. The man's face was whiter than the clouds floating around the city, and he fell to the ground with a sob when Fallon set him down.

"Stop blubbering, idiot. Did you think you'd actually get away?" Fallon sighed while she bent his arms behind his back and put her handcuffs around his wrists.

I landed next to her and helped her haul Calter to his feet. Tears were streaming down his face, and my wingmate rolled her ice blue eyes at me.

"This guy is something else. First he kills Rafa, then he tries to kill us. Now he's weeping like his favorite leg-ball team lost their district championships. Hey, ass," Fallon grabbed the man's neck and pushed him toward the nest. "If you didn't want to feel the Priestess' justice, then you shouldn't have killed all these people."

"I didn't kill anyone. I didn't even know Rafa was dead," the blond man choked out the words.

"If you didn't know Rafa was dead, then why did you run? Liar." Fallon groaned and then twisted the man's arm to make him walk in-front of us faster. A squad of city guards ran toward us, and my wingmate raised her free hand to get their attention.

"I ran because I had been distributing all of his moonshine under the table. I thought you found out about it."

"Moonshine? What are you babbling about?" Fallon snarled her question.

"Rafa had a serious moonshine operation behind a hidden wall of his cellar. His widow told me about it when I spoke with her last."

"I thought you knew. We probably owe hundreds of gold pieces in taxes. I didn't kill the man, he was like a father to me. Please, when did he die? I've been at work or selling his--"

"Shut up," Fallon held her hand up to his face. "We'll talk to you when we get to the nest. Guards, put him in a cell."

"Yes Potentia," one of the guards replied, and the group pulled Calter away from us.

"I didn't kill him! I didn't!" Calter shouted back over his shoulder while the armored men dragged him away.

Fallon turned to me, and our eyes met. I thought she was going to yell at me, or tell me I was a worthless pigeon that had given her a terrible lead. Instead, her shoulders slumped and she let out a long sigh.

"We will need to question him, but I've got the feeling he is telling the truth."

"Yeah," I sighed and shook my head.

"So, do you have any other leads?" She raised her right eyebrow, and her wide mouth turned into a smirk.

"I actually do," I said as I returned her smile.

"Good, let's make it quick with him and then hit the streets."

Chapter 15

A few hours later, Fallon and I had finished the report about Calter's arrest and his partnership in Rafa's moonshine operation. Fallon had turned the case over to one of the guard lieutenants, and they would do the rest of the legwork with the city tax collectors.

"We aren't any closer to solving the murders, but I haven't seen a tax evasion case this big in ten years. We will at least get a pat on the back from the captain, and maybe even a nod from the Priestesses." Fallon leaned back in the chair, put her boots on her desk, and put her hand over her mouth to hide her yawn.

"I have two more names to investigate, but I'm feeling as if these might be dead ends as well. I also have the names from Garon's ledger."

"There are still a few hours left until the morning briefing. Let's do what we can. She'll be happy with us for catching Montigar and exposing the moonshine operation. There is also a possibility that someone involved in that operation killed Rafa. Perhaps his murder isn't even related to these others."

"Could be," I answered. My shoulders were aching from lack of sleep, but I didn't feel any weight on my eyelids. "Do you know Fontyane Veer?" I asked the short-haired blonde woman.

"Sounds familiar. Should I know him?"

"He is a guard in this nest and apparently saw Rafa. I asked the night shift sergeant, but he said that Veer worked the morning shift."

"I doubt that one of ours would have anything to do with this, pigeon. Who else is on your list?"

"Marcel Jocar. He is a tax collector."

"I know of that man. He's disgusting, but he is one of the Priestess' favorites." Fallon sighed and then ran her hands through her short hair. "Might as well talk to Veer first."

"Should we ask the guards where he lives?"

"If the sergeant doesn't know where he lives, none of the other guards on duty are going to know. We should have his address on file," Fallon said as she stood up from her desk. "It will be in the locked equipment room. This way."

I followed the woman down the hall and tried to keep a smile off my face. It seemed as if Fallon was starting to accept me as a peer, or at least the hatred she seemed to have for me was not as apparent.

"Hey, Lotanna. We need access to the equipment room." Fallon greeted the guard sitting at the metal door at the end of the long corridor.

"Evening, Fallon. Evening, Anelia," the guard woman nodded to both of us. "Sign in please. Captain just got the box of pistols last night. Our orders are not to touch them until we can catalogue the numbers and then issue them. So please leave the crates alone."

"I understand," Fallon said.

"Pistols?" I asked the two women.

"Ahh, you haven't heard. Priestesses are issuing us flintlocks, finally. I'm rusty with my shooting though, and I never wanted to buy one for myself," Fallon said as she stepped into the room.

"Payroll records are over here. I'll take this cabinet, you take that one," my wingmate said after the door had closed behind us, and we both went to work digging through the drawers of sorted papers.

"Is this it?" I asked after we had both searched in silence for a few minutes and I had found what looked to be Fontyane's payroll information

"Yes," she took the paper from my hand and held it up to the evening light streaming through the window.

"He has a house on the thirtieth level," she said and handed the paper back to me.

"That is strange," I said as I looked at the document.

"What is?"

"This was updated last year, when he first joined. His previous job was as an apothecary's apprentice on the fifteenth level."

"And?" Fallon crossed her arms, and her voice carried a rough edge.

"How does an apothecary's apprentice who worked on the fifteenth level afford a home on the thirtieth? It says here his pay from the nest is ten silver a month. A home on that level would cost at least fifteen a month." I looked to my wingmate after I spoke, and she slowly nodded her head.

"Good eye. Let's go ask him. "

I nodded, glanced back at the paper again to memorize the address, and then followed my wingmate out of the room.

We walked across the bullpen area, and I inhaled the smell of paper, ink, and weapon oil. I didn't see any of my sisters at their desks, but there were plenty of guards filling out reports, processing suspects, and taking statements.

"We'll check the time sheets before we leave," Fallon said, and I nodded. I wouldn't have thought to do that, but that was one of the many reasons that I was paired with a senior partner.

"Sergeant, I need the time sheets for the morning shifts for the last few days. Looking to see when Fontyane Veer signed in for duty."

"Here is the ledger, Fallon." The night shift sergeant was a muscular man named Brok Tearte. He hefted a five-inch thick, leather-bound book onto his desk and then flipped to the last few pages.

"Hmmm. I don't know the lad, but I've heard good things about him. Only been with us a year. Can I help with anything?" Sergeant Tearte asked while he flipped through the ledger. He stopped at a page in the middle and then ran his finger down the list of guard names. "Strange. He didn't sign in yesterday."

"How about the day before?" I asked as the uniformed man flipped to the previous page.

"No, and he missed the day before also. He's missed the last two weeks. I've got a note here; first day he missed was approved by the captain. Sick leave."

"Ocellina approved his absence?" I tried to keep the surprise out of my question, but I knew I did a poor job.

"It isn't uncommon. She's not a hardass. She just approved it. Could have been that Sergeant Beuford didn't tell her it'd go on for this long. He might be on his last warning and could show up today." Brok shrugged his shoulders.

"Thanks, sergeant. We'll see you later," Fallon said to the man. She looked at me, and I got her hint.

"Have a good evening, Potentia." The man gave us a nod.

"I'm thinking this will still be a dead end. We'll find Veer curled up under his sheets fighting the flu," Fallon said as soon as we exited the nest.

"Two weeks is a long time to be sick with the flu," I replied with a sigh. I almost expected Fallon to tell me I was an idiot, but the woman only nodded at me, and I couldn't read her expression.

We launched into the air, and our Alula wings opened to embrace the blue sky. Fallon was much faster than me, but I saw her glance over her shoulder, realize that I was trailing behind her significantly, and slow her climb.

"Make your wings fan out less on the upswing, and you need to angle the front edges down more on the downswing," Fallon yelled at me.

I tried to follow her instructions and found that my rise doubled in speed almost instantly. I quickly reached her position in the air, and she nodded toward our destination before her wings angled her there in an elegant glide. My own wings matched Fallon's movement, and I found a spot a few feet to her rear that protected me from the headwind.

Veer's home was somehow larger than I expected. It was three stories, blue-painted brick, and in a prime spot near a gathering of restaurants. My suspicions grew as Fallon and I circled it from above. I didn't understand how anyone who worked as a guard could afford the Priestess' rent on a place like this, let alone when he was a mere apprentice. It didn't mean that the man was our murderer, but something strange was transpiring with his finances. The home must have cost twenty silver a month.

"Get your feathers ready, pigeon," Fallon said as she stepped to the dark-blue door. Her knuckles pounded on the wood with a thunderous knock.

We waited for half a minute, but there was no answer, and Fallon knocked again. I wouldn't have believed that she could make the knocking sound louder, but I imagined that people in the restaurant across the road heard her fist banging on the wood.

"Fontyane Veer! This is Potentia Fallon and Potentia Anelia. Open the door!" my wingmate shouted while her knuckles hit the door again.

"Perhaps he is at a tavern?" I shrugged.

"Or he's inside sick. Or he is our murderer." Fallon nodded to my sword and then took a step away from the door.

Her right leg thrust out and hit the blue door right below the handle. The door made a snapping sound as soon as her foot connected, and the wood splintered at the jam as it cracked free of the locks. I drew my sword at the same time as Fallon, and I followed her into the large house.

The stench of rotting food, feces, and urine assaulted my nose as soon as I entered the home. The main living room was a mess, and even though the windows were all shuttered closed, stray beams of dark orange light peeked through the holes like spider webbing. I could see piles of dirty dishes, spilt beer bottles, clothes, and empty glass vials. The vials looked familiar in size, and I reached down to pick one up.

"These look like the same glassware that I found in the crates in the shipyard," I whispered to Fallon, and I thought about Ash asking me if I knew what was inside them. My wingmate nodded at my words and then gestured with the hilt of her rapier toward the entrance to the kitchen.

We moved into the next room and found more discarded beer bottles, hovering flies, stacked plates, and piles of churning maggots. It didn't look like the home had been cleaned in months, and I saw strange brown smears of dried paint on the cupboard. I pointed at the weird markings to get Fallon's attention, and then I leaned my face in close to look at the brown paint.

"Smells like feces," I winced as I pulled away from the cupboard and exhaled. The whole house smelled disgusting, but sticking my nose a few inches from a smear of poop almost made me want to vomit.

A thud sounded upstairs, and we spun toward the doorway to the living room. Fallon moved to the base of the circular staircase and gestured for me to step behind her. The blonde woman transferred her sword to her left hand and then leaned toward me.

"Stab past me if you need to, but get ready to fall back down the stairs if he is armed. I don't want to fight uphill in tight spaces."

"Got it," I whispered to her, and my heart thumped into my chest like her fist had pounded the door earlier.

We moved up the stairs together at a natural pace, but when we reached the second floor, my wingmate raised her right fist into the air, and I stood still behind her. There was a long hallway ahead of us, and I could see two doors on each side. The stairs climbed up to the next floor, but the thump sounded again from down the hall, and it was apparent that someone else was on this floor.

There were no uncovered windows in the hallway, so the only light came from the dim glow downstairs. My eyes had adjusted to the darkness though, and Fallon moved to the first door and leaned against the wall by the side on which it opened. She drew her knife with her right hand, so that she carried both the long rapier and the shorter blade. I went to do the same, but she shook her head and then nodded at me to open the door and pull away. I followed her instructions, and the woman darted into the door as silently as a mouse.

This room was empty; with no furniture, rugs, or other decorations to cover the dusty floor. Fallon backed out of the room and moved to the other side of the hallway. The thump sounded again from further down the hall, but our clearing procedure instructed that we ensure that all the rooms behind us were safe when we moved through a home or building. The blonde woman nodded at the door again, and I pushed it open as she darted inside. Fallon moved in quickly, but this room only had a bed. Fallon took a step out of the room, but then turned and crouched near the mattress. The woman lifted the skirt of the sheet with the tip of her rapier and I saw a shriveled hand that connected to a skeletal arm.

"Been dead a while," my wingmate whispered, and I had to strain to hear her over the terrified pounding of my heart.

Fallon rose from her crouch and moved out into the hallway. I couldn't smell any death in the room, and it confirmed the guess about the age of the body under the bed. It must have been there for years. What in the name of the Priestesses was going on with this man?

We moved deeper into the hallway toward the last pair of doors. The thumping noise came from the one to the right, and Fallon gestured for me to keep eyes on it while she turned to the left-hand door. I pushed it open, and my wingmate rushed through. I took a quick glance to check her surroundings. The room was filled with tables, apothecary equipment in various stages of use, open-flame oil lamps that had long since ran dry, more beer bottles, and empty vials.

A lot of empty vials.

I didn't see any bodies, and the blonde woman stepped silently back into the hallway and readied herself by the final door. Our eyes met in the near darkness, and she gave me a slight nod. I pushed open the door, and Fallon darted inside. I slid in through the doorway behind her, and we fanned out in the room so that each of our flanks was protected.

It was a large bedroom some twenty feet broad by thirty feet long. Thin shards of light leaked in past the shutters and revealed several cots stacked up against one of the walls. Empty vials were scattered like cobblestones across the floor, and my eyes fell to the far corner of the room.

There was a pile of bodies.

They were twisted, half corpse and half skeleton. My mind reeled as I tried to count them, and my vision started to blur. My stomach tried to heave, but I forced the disgust back down with a fierce swallow.

"Priestess..." Fallon's voice trailed off into a gasp.

"How many?" I said as a body from the top of the pile slid from its place and descended the five-foot stack of limbs. The head of the corpse hit the wooden floor and made the knocking sound that we had heard earlier.

"More than twenty," Fallon shook her head.

"There is another floor above," I said. I wanted to ask her if she thought Veer had killed all these people, but we'd be able to figure out their cause of death once we examined them.

"Let's go," my partner said, and we made our way out of the room and back to the staircase.

Fallon took the lead again, and we scaled the wooden steps cautiously. The top floor was more of a loft, with a large open space at the top of the stairs. There was a closed door on the other side, against the far roofline, and the color of the wood made me think that the walls were a recent addition. There were more cots up here, and more empty vials.

"Last room," I whispered as we walked toward the door.

This door opened outward, into the loft area, and I stood by the side of it so that Fallon could run in after I had pulled it open. She gave me a nod when she was ready, and I opened it quickly.

A click sounded past the doorway, and I saw a light flash behind the edge of the wood that hung on the hinges.

"No!" I shouted as black powder filled my nose.

Fallon was already moving toward the door, and I tried to kick it closed as I dove across toward the charging blonde woman. I hit her on the side, wrapped my arms around her waist, and commanded my wings to push away from the room.

Everything turned orange.

Then red.

Then the world was brighter than the suns.

Chapter 16

"You carried Fallon out of the window?" Captain Ocellina asked me while the doctor dabbed medicine across the cut on my arm.

"Yes," I sighed and looked across the street at the charred remains of Fontyane Veer's large home.

The place had burned quickly, and most of the wooden parts had turned to flaming charcoal by the time I'd escaped from the home with Fallon's unconscious body over my shoulder, set her down across the street, and returned with the guards and fire militia. Only a few of the brick walls still stood, and any evidence of what my wingmate and I had seen inside the sickening place was now being spread across Petrasada on the early morning wind.

"I'm grateful for the pigeon. If she hadn't grabbed me, I would be a roasted duck," Fallon said as she stepped toward us. A doctor had wrapped most of her face in tan gauze, and she waved him away from doing the same to her bloody arm.

"You need to be resting," Ocellina said to my wingmate.

"I'm fine. My eye wasn't damaged, and the skin will heal. I overheard what the pigeon said. It is the truth. Shame we won't be able to dig into it more." Her uncovered blue eye focused on the smoldering ruin behind me.

"I'll have a sketch of Fontyane posted in every nest within an hour. We will catch him swiftly," Ocellina said. The woman ran her hand through her long dark hair and then glanced over at what was left of the home. "Why don't you both go home, take a shower, and get some rest. I'll send a guard to get you once we have him in custody."

"I feel as if there is more we can do," I said.

"More?" The captain raised a pretty eyebrow. "You discovered one of the largest moonshine rackets and tax evasion schemes, and then you found the identity of the man who killed six people in this city. You've done plenty since you took up the Alula."

"Agreed. Let's go, pigeon. I'll buy you breakfast and thank you a few times for saving my life." Fallon grabbed onto my arm and gently tugged me away from the captain. Ocellina gave me a beautiful smile and gestured farewell. Then I saw her address one of our guard sergeants. I needed to tell her about the monsters I had found deep in the caves under the city. I needed to tell her about Dust trying to kill me, and how I got the leads from Ash. It wasn't a good time though. There were too many people about, and I wanted to have the conversation with the captain alone in her office so that Fallon didn't get angry at me for withholding information.

"There is a place I like to eat by the nest. Dove Tail is the name. Have you eaten there?" Fallon asked.

"No, I really couldn't afford to eat anywhere above the twentieth level before I was selected as a Potentia, and I haven't gotten my first week's pay yet," I felt a smile come to my face as I spoke to Fallon.

"Ahh, then you'll love this place. They give us a discount also, but I'm buying. It is the least I can do."

"Thanks, Fallon." I smiled at the woman, but the bandage on the left side of her face kept me from seeing if she smiled in return. "Should we fly there?"

"Maybe in a few minutes. I want to stretch my legs. Feels good to be alive."

"I agree," I said with a sigh.

"Upset that we didn't catch him?" Fallon turned her face fully toward me, and I could see the smirk on her wide mouth.

"I would be lying if I denied that. I wonder if he was one of the bodies in the home," I said.

"I doubt that. The corpses looked as if they had all been dead for a long time. I don't know what Veer's purpose was in collecting them, but none of them looked as if they had died in the last two weeks."

"Did you think there was something strange about the bodies?" I asked the blonde woman.

"What do you mean?"

"I haven't seen that many corpses, but they seemed very dry, as if there was no blood in them. Like they had been embalmed and preserved somehow. What do you think?" I asked her.

"That is a good observation. Huh." Fallon nodded and seemed to be lost in thought for a few moments.

"There isn't an embalmer anywhere near our territory," she finally said.

"And I don't know anyone besides the Priestesses who consider that practice useful. There isn't enough space to entomb the deceased. We just cremate them," I told Fallon the obvious. After I finished speaking, I winced and thought she would yell at me.

"Some of the wealthy families living in the top thirty have started to adopt the practice. I don't believe it is widespread though. As soon as the guards catch Fontyane, we'll be able to ask him about the bodies." She stretched her arms behind her back with a groan. "Let's fly the rest of the way. My stomach wants to eat more than my legs want to walk."

We took to the air, and I followed the bandaged woman up three levels and then down to the doorstep of a small restaurant that was a few hundred yards down the street from our nest. The staff knew Fallon by name, and we were soon sitting at a secluded corner table and sipping on hot mugs of tea.

"Look, pigeon. Anelia. I wanted to say I was sorry for the last few days." The waiters delivered various potatoes, eggs, and cuts of pork to our table, and the woman paused while they put our napkins on our laps. I'd never been to a restaurant where the staff put napkins on us, and I tried to keep my lips firm despite my pleasure. Vibus, Juliana, and Severa were going to be happy for me. I couldn't wait to tell them about the last day.

"That is okay, I understand that you are supposed to haze pigeons," I said.

As I lifted the cup of tea to take a sip, something fell into my lap, and I looked down to the spread napkin. There was a folded piece of paper there, and I glanced up to see Fallon still looking at her full plate of food.

"It's more than that," Fallon said with a sigh. "See… Shit, this is hard to talk about."

"What is wrong?" I looked at her face while I grabbed the paper in my lap.

"Ahhh, well. I've had six wingmates in the last sixteen years. Besides Belinna, they have all requested to transfer away from me."

"Oh," I said.

Belinna was one of the Potentias killed on the last Moon Night.

"We'd been together for five years. We got along great. Before her, I was worried they were going to force me into retirement."

"Oh," I repeated as I opened the paper in my hands. I was starting to put the pieces together.

"Then Ocellina transfers, makes changes, Belinna was killed by the mob, and I get you as my replacement wingmate. I thought she'd set me up to fail. Maybe I walked right into it by not supporting you as I should have."

"But we haven't failed. I doubt that the captain wants you to fail," I said.

"My old partners always told me that I relied on my gut too much when making decisions. They were always about the information and process. But whenever I had a gut feeling about the suspect, I always ended up being correct. Perhaps I rubbed it in a little too much with them, and that was why they always wanted to transfer. I know you like the captain, and I know she likes you too, but I'm having problem ignoring my gut." Fallon laughed and then nodded at my plate of food.

"All is forgiven, Fallon. I really want to learn from you," I said with a smile, and my wingmate grunted before she picked up her fork.

We both ate for a few moments, and I glanced down at the paper I had just unfolded.

Do you really believe they will let him live if they find him first? -A

My heart hammered in my chest, and I glanced around the restaurant. The place was half full, and no one was looking in our direction. I didn't see Ash anywhere, but it had been a minute since the paper must have been dropped onto my napkin. Maybe it was attached to the bottom of my teacup and the handsome man had set the note in place five minutes ago when we first arrived.

"Something wrong?" Fallon asked.

"No, sorry. I was just thinking about the last few days." I smiled at the woman and reached my hand across the table. "I'm honored that you are my wingmate. I will do my best to learn from your experience. Thank you for breakfast. It is excellent."

"You're welcome, Anelia." She smiled at me and then dug back into her food.

I wasn't really tasting the breakfast anymore, but I occupied myself with eating so that I could study the note more. Who did Ash mean when he wrote they and him? He had to have been referring to Fontyane Veer, and the guards, but only sixty, maybe seventy minutes had passed since Veer's house burnt. How did Ash know that the guards were looking for Fontyane?

Did Ash already know what I would find at Fontyane's house? Did he give me the list of four to make me work before I found the real murderer? Why did he think that the guards would kill Fontyane when they caught him?

"Thinking about the case?" Fallon's question pulled me from my puzzle.

"Yes, I wish we could have found Veer."

"He might be anywhere in the city. Guards will find him eventually. I wish we could have arrested him too. Would have been a good finish to the investigation, but we'll have plenty of time to question him once he is in his cell."

"You are right," I took another bite of my breakfast and looked down at the plate. It was only half cleared, and I didn't feel like eating anything else.

"You don't like it?"

"No, it was great. Thank you again," I said as I smiled at the woman.

"Too bad the taverns won't serve beer until lunch time. That would be a nice way to celebrate. Do you drink?"

"Yes, I've got a place on level twelve that I--" the words hung in my mouth and I stared at Fallon with wide eyes.

"What?"

"The beers! In Veer's house!" my heart beat a hundred times a second, and I stood up from the chair.

"Beers? Yeah, there were a bunch of them. Place was a mess." Fallon's uncovered eyebrow lowered in confusion.

"Yes, and they all had Restina's label on the bottle."

"Huh. You are right. I didn't notice that. Maybe he really likes their beer?"

"His house was next to two restaurants and four taverns. Why would he walk up two levels and almost three miles to pick up booze from Restina?" I asked her.

"Maybe he had them delivered?" she shrugged, but I could see her single blue eye sparkle.

"Or maybe there is something else going on," I said.

My wingmate nodded and stood up from the table. She threw a few coins on the tablecloth and then peeled the bandage off her face. Her skin had scabbed over, but it looked as if it was already in the later stages of healing. The Alula was probably using its magic to care for the damage.

"Let's go back to Restina and ask a few more questions," Fallon said, and I returned her smile.

Chapter 17

Fallon and I made our way toward Karmane's office at the rear of the warehouse as soon as we landed. Before we could get to the door, the woman exited and closed the green wooden portal behind her.

"Greetings, Potentia." Karmane's eyes were lined with dark circles, and it looked as if she hadn't combed her long gray hair in a week. We had spoken with her only six hours ago, so I guessed that the woman had only partaken of unfulfilling slumber. "Calter has not returned from his shift, but the guards returned his cart to us. They said little to me, but I will guess he was arrested?"

"The rumor is true. We would like to ask you some more questions," I said.

"I am very busy, Potentia," the gray-haired woman said with a huff.

"So are we," Fallon said. Her face almost looked healed, but there was a reddish rash over her eye, nose, and the corner of her mouth, as if someone had spilled hot water there.

"Fine, what do you want to know?" Karmane crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes.

"Do you know Fontyane Veer?" Fallon asked.

"The guard?"

"Yes. Do you know him?" Fallon asked with a blank expression on her face.

"He patrols this area," Karmane shrugged, and her eyes fixed squarely on my wingmate's face. "I think the brewers have a relationship with him."

"Are they in now?" I asked.

"Probably. I just woke. The brewing takes place at the far side of the building. I don't go over there much; too busy with the shipping."

"What is the name of the brewing manager? What does he look like?" I asked.

"I'll walk you over there." The woman sighed with frustration and beckoned us to follow her past the shelves of stacked bottles.

"She didn't ask why Calter had been arrested," I leaned into Fallon as we walked and whispered the observation.

"She is lying. Keep your feathers ready."

We walked behind Karmane to the other side of the large warehouse,where there were giant vats of copper metal, a maze of pipes, and countless bags of grain stacked in organized piles. The side of the building where we had first entered smelled of finished alcohol, wood, and donkey. This far corner carried the pleasant aroma of malted rice, wheat, fermented honey, and grapes.

A group of five men stacked crates onto a bamboo rickshaw. The men were tan, wearing Restina branded tunics, and they moved with a practiced efficiency.

They also wore swords.

Karmane's body position became rigid, and she raised an arm to point at the men.

"Who are you? What are you doing with those crates?" She didn't quite scream, but the question was shouted with fear.

One of the men turned to look in our direction.

It was Ash.

Except it wasn't.

Ash stood about the same height as this man, and their faces were extremely similar, but the man who evaded my arrest earlier was slightly broader of shoulder and carried ten extra pounds of muscle. Ash also had dark brown, almost black hair, and this mirror image had dark-honey colored hair cut much shorter. The eyes were the same though, and I knew that the men were twins.

Like a strike of lightning through my brain, I knew this man was Dust.

"Ahhh, Potentia." Ash's almost mirror-image said with the same smirk. "If you must know, we are trying to save the world."

The other four men stopped their activity and turned to face us.

"Are you stealing--" I saw Dust pull the pistol from his side holster, but it was more of a sensation.

The man was extremely fast at the draw. The bullet took Karmane in the head before I could knock her out of the way and before she had finished her question.

Fallon had also been slow to react, but once Karmane's body fell beside us, she grabbed my shoulder and pulled both of us behind a grain shelf.

"Kill the Potentia," I heard Dust growl from the other side of the shelving, and the metallic sound of four swords being drawn echoed off the high roof of the warehouse.

"Shit, and I bet we'll get issued our pistols tomorrow," Fallon muttered as she drew her rapier. The woman and I ran to the middle of the storage aisle, where the stacks of grain gave us cover and it would take longer for the men to reach us.

"If we live that long." I tried to sound confident as I pulled my own sword. I didn't see pistols on the other four men, but four swords against two were still odds that made my stomach tighten.

Booted footsteps ran along both sides of the shelving, and Fallon pushed her back to mine.

"As soon as they turn the corner, we'll fly over the shelves and dive at the man with the pistol. We need to take him out before he can reload," she whispered.

"Got it," I said as the four men rounded the corner of the shelving to face us.

As soon as we saw them, Fallon and I leapt into the air. Our Alulas became wings at the same time, and they beat in tandem to carry us to the top of the thirty-foot shelf. Dust was on the other side, still standing by the cart. The man was reloading his pistol, and I guessed that he had already put the bullet inside the gun, since he was tapping the rod into the barrel with the palm of a gloved hand. The man turned his head up to see us, but instead of surprise on his face, Dust just smiled wickedly.

We dove off the top of the shelf toward him, but he pulled the rod out of the barrel and placed it in his side pouch with practiced ease. I didn't understand how the man could be so calm, but then he drew a long dagger with a curved guard with his left hand.

Fallon came in first, and her rapier thrust aimed at Dust's right arm. I guessed that she meant to incapacitate the limb so that the man couldn't finish loading his pistol, but his dagger arched into the path of my wingmate's blade, and the blow knocked the strike wide.

His parry had moved Fallon's sword into my path, so I took a step to the left and slashed at his hip. I would have liked to taken the man alive for questioning, but we had to worry about our own safety first, and the man was obviously intent on killing us.

Dust's body twisted to the side, and his dagger angled downward toward my slash. Our blades connected, but instead of knocking my edge free of his body, I felt his blade twist. My sword slid up toward the curved hilt of his weapon, and I yanked it away from him.

"Not bad," he said as his shoulder slammed into Fallon.

The woman stumbled a few steps toward me, and I had to dance away so that we didn't get tangled.

Dust shuffled toward my wingmate and thrust his dagger at her face. His movement was whip fast, and my partner almost didn't get the guard of her rapier up in time to block. The big man did seem to anticipate her parry though, and he kneed her in the stomach when her blade was engaged with his dagger. She grunted from the blow, and her body bent over. The dagger spun in his hand, and he almost managed to slam the point down into the blonde woman's skull, but I thrust my rapier against his blade. The weapons smashed together, and then I threw my shoulder into his right side.

My opponent hadn't expected my awkward attack, and he also didn't expect me to joint lock his right hand with my left. The job was made easier since he cradled his pistol in the loading position. I only needed to clasp his fingers and bend the wrist back toward the nook of his arm.

I twisted his hand as hard as I could.

He yelped with surprised pain, and he seemed to forget about the dagger pinned to my blade. My joint lock was easy to escape, because I couldn't keep him from pulling away from me, but his desperate movement left the flintlock pistol in my left hand. I grabbed the handle, put my finger on the trigger, and leveled the gun at the man's chest.

"Surrender, Dust," I said, but as my eyes sighted down the weapon, I realized that the flash pan was empty, and the frizzen was open. The gun might be loaded with powder and a bullet in the barrel, but it wasn't going to fire without powder in the pan that could be ignited by the flint on the hammer.

He already knew that though, and I saw his right foot drift behind his other leg as he twisted his torso.

"Shit," I cursed as I leaned away from the big man's kick. It had come in at my head, and I was surprised that the man was so flexible.

I panicked for a second and waved my rapier in the air like an idiot. The blade didn't connect with his next kick, but it did manage to keep the man a healthy distance away from me. My sword was much longer than his leg, and Dust pulled back a few steps while he transferred his parrying dagger to his right hand.

"Keep the gun," he laughed, and I saw a pair of his assassins had run to Fallon from the far shelving. The other pair came from behind the cart, and Dust waved them to me as if he was conducting a group of musicians. "for as long as you live, that is."

The two men came in quickly, and I parried the first thrust from the one on my left. The second man made a quick slashing cut at my arm while I blocked, and I had to twist the hilt of my sword so that I caught his strike. Our enemies wielded small swords. The weapons looked like rapiers, but they were about eight inches shorter, had a thinner triangular blade, and were most effective at making small cuts or stabs with the point. They were extremely light though, and I quickly found myself retreating a few steps as I bounced my heavier blade between their attacks.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that Fallon fared a bit better than me. She hadn't lost any ground, but she wasn't making any counter attacks against their quick jabs. I felt fear swim through the contents of my stomach, and I forced myself to remember the breathing techniques from my training. This situation was tough, but far from hopeless. I just needed to find a way to hold my ground. These men used far more energy attacking than I did parrying, and my Alula would give me the endurance to win when their arms grew heavy with fatigue.

Dust stood behind the pair who attacked me and crossed his arms while he studied our battle. One of the men made a deep thrust toward my stomach, and he had to lean out beyond the side of his partner. I guessed that one of them would think that they needed to finish me quickly, so I had halfway expected the movement.

My rapier knocked the shorter weapon down toward my foot. Then I stepped on the triangular blade and kicked him in the face with my other boot. I had hoped that he would have let go of his sword when he tumbled away from me, but he held on tightly to the weapon, and it slid from under my foot as he fell.

I used the opportunity to rush toward the other man. My rapier cut toward his face, but he brought up his shorter blade to block. I'd anticipated his parry though and had made my feint as obvious as I could. The man hadn't seen me actually attack yet, so he didn't think I would make my first thrust a sham. When he raised his sword to block, I had already pulled mine away and pushed the tip into his unguarded stomach.

He shouted and brought his sword down to smack mine away, and then he made a hasty counterattack cross slash from his left side. The swing was aimed at my head, and I dropped to my knees. The blade passed over me with a gust of wind, and I drove the point of my rapier into his chest as close to the heart as I could aim. The assassin's eyes opened wide when my weapon pierced him the second time, but I had to pull my rapier away again to block his next overhead swing before I ripped my blade through his chest.

His small sword bounced off my thicker rapier, and I stood as the man stumbled away with his hand clutching at the blood pouring down his front. The second assassin had jumped back to his feet, and he moved in-front of me to block my advance on his wounded friend.

I saw Dust shake his head in disappointment, and then the muscular man moved around the side of the rickshaw. He wrapped his hands around the long poles of the cart, lifted so that the wagon was on its wheels, and then he walked away from the battle.

"Anelia!" Fallon shouted from behind me.

"I see him! Have to take care of this first," I yelled back as I blocked my assailant's next series of slashes. I could tell his arm was getting tired, and my body still felt fresh. It could have been a combination of the fear, the adrenaline, and the Alula's magic.

The assassin who I had pierced twice with my sword fell to his knees, and his blade clanged to the ground like a cymbal. I made a quick slash toward my attacker, but this man was much more experienced than his almost-dead partner. He easily parried the attack to the outside of his body and then countered with a flurry of low strikes. The advancing blade dance forced me to step back a few paces, and I lost sight of Dust's rickshaw.

I thought about circling my attacker, but that would have meant abandoning Fallon's back. My opponent was tiring, and I guessed Fallon's were as well, but it would take a few more minutes for this battle to end, and Dust might escape. I needed another idea to dispatch this man, and then I could help Fallon. I glanced down at the pistol in my left hand between parries. It wasn't as gaudy as Ash's silver-and-gold etched weapon, but this one still had some artistic engraving on the steel parts, and the wood looked like expensive polished walnut. I guessed that the gun was worth five months of my salary, and I bet that it was accurate up to eighty yards.

"Here, catch," I tossed the pistol to the swordsman in front of me with a gentle underhand lob.

The man gasped and made a grab for the gun with his left hand. It was already heading toward his chest though, and he leaned back to cradle the weapon when it fell against him. His sword angled toward the ground when his hands rose, and I stepped in to make my attack. The assassin realized his mistake as soon as my blade angled toward him, but I didn't blame his desire to grab the pistol. I probably would have made the same error.

The tip of my rapier punctured his face at the cheek. I felt a half instant of resistance when the metal met his skull, but my weapon was razor sharp, and the sword emerged out the other side like a toothpick through an olive. His face went slack, and I pulled the blade out of the man's brain as his body transitioned from life to death. Then I turned to watch Fallon cleave the arm off one of her assailants. The man screamed and fell to the tiles of the brewery like a twitching fish. Her other attacker had numerous cuts on his arms, legs, and hands, but he was still moving quickly and would have been able to attack on my wingmate's unprotected flank had I not stepped in and parried his thrust with my rapier.

"Surrender and we'll just arrest you," Fallon growled at the man, but he just shook his head and continued his hopeless attack.

He made a quick cut at Fallon, who parried the strike easily and forced his blade to go wide. I took the opening that she gave me, stepped in past his guard, and drove my sword into his chest where his heart beat. The man dropped his small sword and reached with a bloody hand to where my metal entered his chest.

"Potentia bitch," he cursed as blood came from his mouth. His eyes flashed with hatred as he glared at me, and then his lids closed and he sank to the ground.

"I thought you scored low in your fencing classes?" Fallon asked between ragged breaths.

"I did. I was close to the bottom."

"I find that hard to believe," she said with a laugh as we sheathed our swords. "These bastards were skilled."

"Thank you," I said as relief filled my chest. Part of it was being alive after the battle, the other part was the praise from the woman who I never thought I could please.

"Let's go get that last one," Fallon nodded her head to the far side of the warehouse. "He couldn't have gotten far."

I walked to the corpse of the second man I had killed, grabbed the pistol out of his hands, and then put the weapon in my belt.

"What are you doing?" Fallon asked with a smirk on her face.

"Did you hear him? He did say I could keep it for as long as I live." I winked at her.

"Ha, he did indeed. How do you know that is Dust?" Fallon asked as we ran out of the warehouse.

"How are you familiar with that name?" I asked.

"He's one of the crime lords of the city. No one knows what he looks like though. You there! Did you see a man pulling a rickshaw?" She called to the group of workmen who had gathered at the end of the warehouse.

"He went out the south entrance," one of the men said as he pointed out to the unroofed area of the property.

We finished our run out of the warehouse and then took to the air. In a few seconds, we cleared the wall surrounding Restina Brewery, and Petrasada's steep slope spread out before us. The morning crowd filled the streets, and there were dozens of donkey carts and rickshaws on the thickly packed streets.

"Shit," Fallon and I said at the same time.

"Take the west. I'll take the east," she ordered as she swept down to my left.

I flew over the nearest covered cart and saw that it didn't have Restina's marking on the side. The man who pulled it was also half of Dust's size. I flew to the next rickshaw, but this one was filled with crates of vegetables. The next carried glass plates, another had dried fish, another bore sacks of rice.

I wanted to scream.

I checked behind me and saw Fallon rise into the air. She flew a few hundred yards away from me, but my eyes were sharp, or maybe the Alula aided my vision, and I saw that her expression probably matched mine.

Had Dust ducked into another building? No, it was unlikely. Restina's property was the largest within two hundred yards, and the man wouldn't have been able to pull the rickshaw that far through the crowded streets. He had to be here somewhere.

I was missing a detail. There was a clue somewhere that I had overlooked.

I studied the first cart again. It didn't have Restina's logo on the wooden panels, and the man pulling it was not Dust, but it was the only one with contents covered by a bunch of cloth that I hadn't investigated. The other carts had coverings to protect their inventory from the rays of the suns, but I took account of their contents when I flew close enough. I gestured across the sky to Fallon, and then floated down toward the driver of the cart.

"I need to inspect your cart," I told the driver as I landed in a crouch in front of him.

"My cart?" The man seemed confused. He was older, with a wide hat, long thin beard, and endless wrinkles across the bottom of his leathery face.

He squatted and let go of the steering poles of the rickshaw. They bent slightly when they took on the full weight of his cargo, and I wondered how a man that old was able to pull the heavy cart. Fallon's shadow passed above me, and I saw the elderly man squint into the sky.

His eyes were a light brown-gold color.

"You are under arrest, Dust," I said as I pulled my rapier clear of my sheath. The old man jumped in surprise when my blade made the slick metal sound, and I almost wondered if I'd made a mistake.

"Huh? What did I do, Potentia?" his voice quavered the question.

"Murder, theft of merchandise from Restina Brewery, and attempted murder of a Potentia."

"Murder of a Potentia? I don't understand."

"At Rafa Manus' tavern, you attempted to murder me in the cellar. Kneel on the ground. Now," I ordered as I pushed the tip of my sword gently against his chest.

He laughed, and in the blink of an eye it wasn't a bent old man standing before me. His shoulders pulled back, his posture became strong, and the wrinkles seemed to fade from his face as if I had imagined them. I blinked twenty times in a row and still couldn't understand the transformation that had taken place before me. It hadn't seemed like magic, but Dust had completely altered his persona in less than a second by making just a few changes to his posture and facial expression.

The handsome man glanced down at my blade and then sighed.

"Looks like I underestimated you." A half smile was left over on his face after his chuckle.

"That seems to be a common theme between you and your brother. Kneel. I won't tell you again."

"Oh? You know my brother? Did he tell you where to find me? What a dastardly move," Dust let out a long sigh and then made a slow movement to kneel on the ground.

"No. He told me nothing about you, but I'm doing my job. Turn around so that your back faces me, and then set your right arm behind your back so I can cuff you."

"Why bother? Just kill me. It is what your kind do."

"Shut up, idiot." Fallon had noticed me pull my rapier and landed beside me in time to hear the man speak. "All you criminal scum and your death wishes. We have trials and processes. Arm back."

She yanked Dust's right arm and secured it in one of the cuffs. The man grunted with pain and then growled lightly when she yanked the left one. Once both cuffs were on him, she pulled him to his feet. She nodded to me when she secured her joint lock on his arms, and I put my rapier back in its sheath.

"All this over some beer? There are easier ways to make coins," Fallon said.

"You both know I'm not stealing beer."

"Looks like crates of beer to me," I said as I moved to the cart and pulled the burlap tarp off the stolen merchandise.

"And you think I am the idiot," Dust sighed.

"My wingmate thinks you are Dust, but I have doubts," Fallon chuckled.

"Doesn't matter," the man said as he shrugged his shoulders. His eyes focused on me. "Don't open those crates here."

"Why not?" Fallon asked. There was a group of guards patrolling, and she beckoned to them.

"You wouldn't want people getting drunk in the morning, would you?" He shook his head with a sad laugh.

"We will return the merchandise to Restina. Where is Fontyana Veer?" I asked him as I covered up the crates again.

"That is what everyone wants to know." Dust shook his head. "How did you escape from Manus' cellar?"

"Manus' cellar?" Fallon turned to me with a raised eyebrow.

"I'll talk to you about it later," I said to my wingmate, and she nodded.

"Or we can talk about it now. I tried to kill her, but she escaped. I'm conflicted about the result," Dust said.

"You aren't making your defense any easier, fool. We already have you for murder," Fallon said as the guards arrived.

"Take him to the nest and put him in a holding cell. Alone. You," she pointed at the largest man in the group, "grab this cart. We are taking it back to Restina."

The guards saluted and moved to follow Fallon's orders.

"Wait," Dust said as the guards grabbed him.

"What?" I asked.

"What is your name?" His gold-colored eyes bore into mine.

"She is Potentia Anelia. I am Potentia Fallon. You are under arrest, and if you are Dust, then you should pray that the Priestesses grant you a quick execution."

"Oh, they will. I have no doubt of that," the man said as the guards pulled him away from us.

Chapter 18

"Explain what that man said about Manus' cellar," Fallon said as we walked behind the cart that the guard pulled.

I bit my lip and debated telling Fallon the full story. I knew that she would be angry, and her opinion of me might revert, but keeping secrets from her wasn't sitting well with me. Wingmates needed to be able to trust each other completely. The woman admitted her own fears to me over breakfast; I could honor her by being truthful to her.

"After you left me at the barn, I told you that I decided to visit Rafa's widow."

"Yes, I recall."

"I asked her about the names I had found in Aetius Colo's ledger. They were the names of people who had received orders of his glassware."

"Ahh, yes. The list I told you was useless." Fallon frowned, and looked as she was about to apologize again, but I shook my head and smiled at the blonde woman.

"She didn't know the names, but I got her to admit that Rafa was running an illegal moonshine operation. She took me to the cellar and asked me to enter first. Once I walked down the stairs, she shut the door and trapped me. I felt like a fool, but she screamed that her late husband had told her that anyone coming in to ask her about Dust was probably an enemy. She said she would go get him, and the man would dispose of my body."

"We need to arrest the widow," Fallon growled.

"Agreed, but I don't know if she has anything to do with these murders, or Fontyane Veer. Besides, we can get more info out of Dust once we question him."

"How did you escape?"

"I found a secret sliding wall. Behind it was Rafa's distillery equipment. There was an exhaust shaft that led up to his cooking stove, but the shaft also went down. As soon as I found the tunnel, I heard Dust and his men start to open the door. I crawled inside the chute and then slowly crawled down. They didn't know I was there, but they dropped some moonshine and a lamp down to set me on fire. By that time, I'd reached a large open chamber deep under the city, and I avoided the fire."

The woman looked at me and raised an eyebrow.

"I know it sounds farfetched, but the next part is even stranger. I didn't want to tell you because I doubted that you would believe me." We had reached the Restina property again, and our nest's guards had closed off the compound from the crowd on the street. The workers were all being detained in a corner of the warehouse, and I saw one of the guard inspectors walk toward us.

"Okay, let's get Mitar's report and then talk about it."

"Potentia Fallon. Potentia Anelia," Mitar said as he nodded to both of us. He was a middle-aged man with gray hair at his temples. The population that each nest covered was too large for the small number of Potentia to manage, so crime investigations were often turned over to higher-ranking guards.

"Greetings Mitar, what is the news?" Fallon asked.

"I just arrived. Captain said you two had taken the day off."

"We were on scene for the robbery and witnessed the murder of Restina's shipping manager. The criminal is in custody right now and being escorted back to the nest."

"Good. We've got the employees held. Do you want us to question them?"

"Yes, ask if any of them know Fontyane Veer," Fallon said.

"I will. I heard about that this morning when the captain briefed us. It is insane. I've had a beer with the man many times. I never guessed that he was committing such horrible acts in his home."

"You said you drank beer with him? How often, and where?" I asked.

"There is a place near the nest, Tangled Tree is the name."

"Popular tavern for us. We think someone working at Restina might be involved with Veer. We are going to search the corner office. Come to us if you find anything."

"Understood." The man saluted and walked to the other guards so he could relay our instructions.

"I'm feeling as if we are grasping at shadows now," I said as we walked through the warehouse toward Karmane's office.

"Maybe we are, but my gut is telling me that something is going on here. You were right about all the beer in Fontyane's place. I also felt as if Karmane knew something. She might be connected to all this. Then there is Dust. We've heard about him for years, but none of the nests have been able to apprehend him or any of his organization."

"They didn't speak at all about him in training. What can you tell me?" I asked as we walked into the office.

"There is a huge file at the nest. I'll give it to you to study. When I say huge, I also mean that it is devoid of much useful information. Just rumors and leads that never came to fruition."

"Ahh," I replied.

"I'll search this cabinet. You take that one." She gestured to the opposite side of the office. The place was surprisingly organized, and it looked as if every surface had been cleaned recently. "And please continue your story while we look."

"I will, but before I do, I want to admit that I am hesitant to tell you this next part."

"Oh?" Her blue eyes narrowed at me a bit.

"I want to be honest with you, but I feel as if you won't believe me. I don't want our relationship to backslide." My heart hammered in my chest as I admitted my fears.

"Just tell the story. It can't be that fantastic."

"In this open chamber in the deep parts of the city, I found thousands of strange bones. They looked as if they belonged to some giant lizard creatures."

"Giant lizard creatures?" Fallon looked up from her papers with disbelief.

"Yes, I found a stack of large eggs, and they hatched. They were like flying maggots, and I narrowly escaped them by flying up into the chute. Then I found another tunnel. I eventually made it to the mines on the first level of the city."

I told the blonde woman the rest of the story. About how I found Ash by smelling the magic, about overhearing him talk at the blacksmith's shop, capturing him, and his escape. I began to speak about the conversation I had with the man in the tavern, but then Mitar knocked on the office door.

"Found something." His eyes sparkled, and we followed him out of the office.

"What did you find?" I asked. The man was almost jogging across the warehouse floor.

"A hidden cache of brewing equipment behind the corner office," he explained as he led us into the large closed-off room on the other side of the building. "One of the brewers said that Veer had been coming in here with the assistant brewmaster for the last few months." The investigator pointed to the far wall of the office. A fake wall had been pulled away to reveal a small room that was maybe five feet wide and ten feet long. A half dozen fermenting jugs were positioned there. The containers were filled with amber liquid and plugged with cork stoppers. Some of the bottles were empty, and I wondered why they had been left in the space.

The secret cubbyhole carried a strange scent. It smelled like beer, yeast, grain mash, and fermentation, but there was tar-like scent that hung in the air. The strange smell reminded me of the coating that they would paint onto the bottoms of boats. The small room also seemed to carry the scent of stagnant algae, and that could have been why I was thinking of boats.

"Let's question the assistant brewmaster," I asked.

"Can't. He hasn't come to work in two weeks. Stopped coming in the same time that Veer stopped showing up at the nest."

"What is the man's name?" Fallon asked.

"Pruet Carna," Mitar said.

"That was a name on my list from Aetius Colo," I said to Fallon.

"Maybe Fontyane killed him?" my wingmate asked.

"Or maybe Pruet is the killer? I find it hard to believe that Fontyane is responsible for all these murders. He was heavily vetted before he got hired," the tall man shrugged his shoulders.

"Do you have an address for us?" I asked.

"Yep, he lives on the twenty-third level. Do you need us to come with you?" The man held up a piece of paper, and my wingmate took it from his fingers.

"We can get there faster. This is a good three miles from here," Fallon said as she checked the writing. "We'll look for a patrol on the way there. Keep searching this warehouse for anything that might have hinted at what Veer and Carna were planning."

"Be safe," Mitar saluted and then stood away from the door of the brewery office so that we could pass.

The interior of the warehouse was filled with guards now, and they searched every nook, shelf, and corner like a swarm of ants looking for a meal. Fallon and I passed a small group of nicely dressed citizens being questioned by guards. I guessed that it was the Restina family, and one of the women waved frantically at us.

"Looks like she wants to speak," I said.

"She wants to complain. I've had it happen a hundred times. The upper families always feel slighted when we have to search their property. It is ridiculous. They don't own anything. It is just rented from the Priestesses, and they should count their blessings that they have been favored," my partner said with a huff.

"You don't think she'll have information about the case?" I asked.

"No, but we'll return here once we investigate Carna's house. I'll let you question her." Fallon smirked and let out a short chuckle.

"Oh, thanks," I laughed back. Maybe I should have been feeling other emotions now, but I felt as alive and blessed as I had when the Priestesses first gifted me with the Alula. I'd told Fallon my story, and she hadn't dismissed it. Now we were on the brink of catching the serial murderer, and the woman was committed to a friendship.

The rickshaw that Dust had used to steal the crates sat unattended in the shipping yard. The sides of the cart were bare of markings. I wondered again how the man had been able to change his appearance so quickly and to remove the brewery's logo. I almost thought about walking over to the small wagon so that I might study it more, but I heard Fallon take to the air behind me. We had a serial murderer to catch and a good lead. Inspecting the cart could wait until I returned.

I used Fallon's improved Alula technique to climb and quickly caught up with the blonde woman. She turned her head, nodded at me with a smile, and then pointed to a group of homes far below us. I angled behind her as she dove through the late morning sky. From up here, the sounds of the city were just a soft murmur, but the wind had its own voice, and it shouted joyfully in my ears when I dived through the air.

"He's in apartment 3C," Fallon said as she landed on the ground in front of the building.

"I think that is on the rear side," I said as I studied the tall adobe and bamboo structure. It was an older building, and it looked dangerously tall for its age.

"Only one entrance at the top of the stairs. Looks too tight to fly into," Fallon remarked.

We walked toward the bamboo staircase that clung to the adobe like a spider's corpse caught in webbing. The first few steps we took on the structure made a sickening creaking sound, and we retreated from the stairs.

"I'm going to get this place condemned. I'm surprised no one has reported it yet," my wingmate sighed.

"I'll go first. It probably can't support two people at once," I said as I took the first careful step on the creaking platform.

"Be careful."

"If it breaks, I'll just float down," I smiled at her and then winced as the next step seemed to make the whole contraption shudder.

"Maybe. There is plenty of bamboo still above you. Might catch your Alula and pin you."

"Seems like only the bottom steps were bad," I said as I climbed past the second floor. I made it to the top and stepped onto the adobe part of the building. There was a break in the balcony flooring here, and I wondered if there had once been a mud-brick staircase that had been replaced by the bamboo one.

Fallon cursed her way up the stairs and then sighed with relief when she joined me at the top. The hallway that led into the building was narrow, so she pulled her knife, and gestured for me to do the same. When I reached for my short blade, my fingers slid across the handle of the pistol that Dust had 'given' me. I wished that I had powder on me so that I could finish loading the thing. I should have grabbed it from the man when we arrested him, but that might have been unprofessional.

Fallon took the lead, and I walked silently behind her. There was absolutely no sound coming from the doors that we passed, but I wasn't surprised. Most people would be working during the mid-morning hours. It would have been stranger to find Pruet Carna at home at this time.

We came to the door marked '3C,' and my wingmate gestured for me to stand on the side of the door away from where it would swing, so that she might rush in first. Once I nodded at her, she used the pommel of her dagger to knock on the door. The thin sheet of glued bamboo bent with her blows and the sound filled the narrow adobe hallway we were in like a trumpet blast. There was no way that the man couldn't have heard it.

"Pruet Carna, this is the Potentia. Open the door," Fallon commanded.

There was the sound of movement inside, and my already rapidly beating heart skipped for a second. Fallon motioned for me to step back and kick in the door, and she prepared herself to dive in after.

I took a deep breath, pushed my back against the wall, and visualized myself performing the front kick on the door. I nodded at Fallon, took a step toward the old scrap of glued bamboo, and then stopped myself when a voice cried faintly from the other side.

"Did you bring it?" It sounded like the cry of a wounded animal.

"Pruet, is that you?" Fallon called out.

"Did you bring it? I need it."

"Open the door," my wingmate called, and I heard more movement in the apartment. Then a lock turned, and the door opened outward a few inches.

"Did you--"

"By the love of the Priestesses, open the door, man." Fallon yanked the bamboo the rest of the way open, and I stepped around it to face Pruet.

I couldn't stifle my gasp, and neither could Fallon.

The man's face looked almost skeletal. There was no fat on his cheeks, his skin was as white as goat milk, his teeth were yellowed to the point of almost being brown, and his eyes were sunken too deeply into his skull. He trembled as he stood, and a boney hand held onto the doorframe for support. He blinked at us slowly, and it appeared that he might have just awoken.

"Are you sick?" the blonde woman asked.

"No?" he seemed confused by her question.

"Are you Pruet Carna?" I asked and choked back my breath. The man smelled like death.

"Uhhh," he seemed surprised by my question, and his bloodshot eyes bounced between Fallon and me with a drunken lull. "I am. Yes. Did you bring it?" his words were a raspy whisper.

"Bring what?" I asked.

"What I need. I need it. They said they would bring me more." His teeth started chattering as he spoke.

"Have you seen Fontyane Veer?" Fallon asked with obvious annoyance.

"He went to get me some more. I need it."

Fallon sighed, sheathed her knife, and then reached into one of the pouches on her belt. She pulled out a pair of official-issue thick leather gloves and put them on her hands while she stared at the man. I moved to put my knife away and follow her example, but my wingmate shook her head, and I guessed that she wanted me to keep my blade ready.

"We are going to take you to a local nest and ask you some questions, but first I'm going to pour twenty buckets of water on you." Fallon reached for the man, but as soon as her fingers touched his arm, Pruet screamed.

"No!" I thought the man was about to tear his arm away from the blonde woman, but instead he jumped out of his doorway and tackled her.

Fallon's face betrayed her surprise, and I stepped toward the man while my wingmate tried to push him back with her hands. Pruet seemed to have gone insane, and his skeletal body slid between her arms as if he was a wiggling snake.

"I need it!" he screamed, and he slammed Fallon against the wall of the hallway.

I didn't want to stab the man with my knife, so I punched him in the side of his malnourished face with the hand enclosing the hilt of my blade. It was a perfectly aimed strike, and I shot my fist out as I stepped toward the man, but his head didn't even snap to the side when I hit. He grabbed my arm with one of his free hands, and his jaw seemed to unhinge like a snake's.

He moved to bite my forearm with his browned teeth, and my stomach jumped into my throat as I tried to pull away from him. Pruet's grip was ridiculously strong, and it felt as if a wooden vice was clamped onto my arm.

The three of us were tangled together, but Fallon managed to free her arm and then slammed the gloved finger of her right hand into one of his bloodshot eyes. She poked him hard, and he let go of my arm with a screech, so that he might clutch his face. He took half a step away from us, and Fallon stomped him in the chest with her right foot while her back was pressed into the wall.

Pruet stumbled back through the doorway of his apartment, and I charged inside the dark space after him. Dozens of beer bottles, empty glass vials, strangely shaped pots, and dirty plates littered the place. I had to dance around the trash for a few steps, and the crazed man had the chance to steady himself on the far wall of his room. He jumped at me, but I kicked out with my left foot, hitting him in his right knee, and the skeleton crashed into a pile of bottles beside me.

I was on top of him instantly with my knee pressed into his back. My left hand yanked back his disgusting arm into a wing lock, and his screech somehow increased in volume.

"Shut up!" Fallon kicked the man in the face and grabbed his other arm. "If you don't lie still, then you are going to get hurt."

I thought the order was ironic since she's just kicked him, but Pruet stopped struggling, and my wingmate put her cuffs on the wrist she had grabbed. She got the metal clasp around his other wrist, and we both stepped away from his prone body. The man gurgled out a few confused words, and then he stopped twitching.

"More vials, more beer bottles." I commented as we both examined the room.

"Hey Pruet, what is in these vials?" Fallon asked the man. When he didn't answer, she nudged him with the toe of her boot and yelled the question.

"I need it," he whispered.

"What about the beer?" she asked, but the man moaned and started to shiver.

"Look at his face," I said as my stomach dropped to my feet. The shutters on the windows were closed, but I could still see the spot where Fallon had kicked him.

"What do you-- By the Priestesses." My wingmate stepped to a window and threw open the shutters. Light filled the room, and the squalor became even more apparent.

I didn't care about the condition of the apartment anymore. I was more concerned by what oozed out of the cut on the man's face.

It was a thick, yellow slime.

"Shouldn't he bleed red?" my wingmate asked

"I need it. Please."

"Yeah, we know you need it," Fallon said as she shook her head.

"You need what is in the vials?" I asked.

"Yes, he said he would bring some," he gasped.

"What is the stuff? Why did you do this to yourself?" Fallon asked.

"Drink of the darkness. Moon Night's blood. Mine. Mine. I need it. Did you bring it? Do you have any?"

"What is wrong with your blood?" I asked.

"Everything is red, and black. The sun is too bright."

"I think we should throw him in the drunk tank. He might make more sense tomorrow," I told Fallon.

"The sun is too bright," Pruet moaned.

"Alright. Let's get him out of here. Put your gloves on," the blonde woman said.

I put away my knife, pulled on my thick gloves, and helped Fallon lift the assistant brewmaster from his apartment floor. He was oddly heavy, and we both had a hard time hoisting him.

"The nearest nest is half a mile to our west. I don't want to drag him down those bamboo stairs, let's glide him down," Fallon said as we pulled the man out of his apartment and around the hallway of his building.

When we reached the edge of the hallway balcony, the man started to wiggle in our arms again, but I half expected his movement, and I just tightened my grip on his arm. We turned away from the janky staircase so that we could have some room to change our Alulas, open our wings, and carry the man down to the ground.

Then we stepped out of the cover of the building.

The skeletal man let out a shriek that reminded me of the maggot-lizard creatures. It was loud enough to make my eyes blink against the pain, and I saw Fallon clench her jaw in agony. Pruet twisted against our grasp, and he suddenly slammed his head back into Fallon's face. I heard her nose break, and the force of his blow made her release his arm and tumble to the floor of the walkway.

I slid my arm though his elbow and twisted the joint as the man tried to twist around and bite me with his brown teeth. He thrashed again, and I couldn't help but break his arm. I thought he would have yelped, or screamed again, or done anything as a reaction to the snapping of his limb, but the crazed man didn't seem to feel pain. He twisted more toward me, and I had to punch him in the throat to keep him from biting me.

That also meant I let go of his arm.

The strike to his esophagus should have taken him to the ground, or at least stunned him. Pruet didn't seem to acknowledge pain, and he dashed away from me like a fleeing rat. He slid on his chest for a few feet when he stumbled before the bamboo staircase. Then he rolled down the steps like a ball of gnashing teeth. The poles of the staircase creaked with his descent and I saw one of the anchors rip free of the wall.

A hundred thoughts spun through my mind at once. I knew that the man was sick, maybe with some sort of disease. If he ran through the streets of the city, he could bite someone or spread whatever sickness he had to others. Fallon and I would have to chase him, and I didn't like the idea of losing the man after all we had been through to get this lead. It was obvious that Pruet knew what was going on with these murders, but we needed to get him into a drunk tank so that he could recover.

I kicked the last support anchor of the bamboo stairs, and it sprung away from the adobe with a thankful ping of release. The coiled staircase groaned and then rolled over on itself. Bamboo rods, rope ties, and steps flew in all directions, and the structure seemed to swallow the running skeleton.

"Quick thinking," Fallon got to her feet and grabbed her bloody nose with her gloved fingers. She made a quick motion with her hands to snap the cartilage back into place, and then she blew a cupful of blood onto the balcony where we stood.

"He's stuck in the bamboo," I said to her as I looked over the edge. Pruet was thrashing under the pile of rods, but he didn't appear to be injured.

"Guards are approaching. The sound of the crash probably echoed through most of the city." I looked to where Fallon pointed and saw ten armored men running toward us.

The blonde woman floated down to meet them on spread wings, and I followed her lead.

"We've cuffed the man, but he is strong and tried to escape several times. He needs to be thrown into the drunk tank."

"Yes Potentia, I'll-- By the Priestess!" the lead guard's eyes opened wide, and he pointed behind us.

We both turned to see Pruet shrug off the mass of bamboo poles and stand. His right arm was torn off at the shoulder, and the limb hung from the handcuff attached to his left wrist as if he carried a child's doll. The man's eyes were almost completely red, and he glanced around the street with bewilderment. Then he focused his eyes on us and gnashed his teeth.

"I need it!" he shouted again as he charged at us.

He ran as fast as a stampeding bull, but he had been a good thirty feet from us and was greeted with twelve drawn rapiers. I stabbed him first in the heart, but the momentum of his run carried me back a step. Pruet's red eyes glared at me with malevolence, and he made a clawed grasp for my throat, but Fallon's blade took his head off at the shoulders, and his body slumped to the ground.

I expected blood to pour from the neck of the man's corpse when it fell, or to come out of his chest when I pulled my blade out of him, but it was only the yellowish slime, and it crawled from his wounds like a thick porridge.

"What was wrong with that man? Why isn't there any blood?" the guard's voice was a whisper of fear, and I saw that the other men glance to the top of the city. They were no doubt praying to the Priestesses.

"We will need to examine the body to find out for sure. Can you fetch your coroner's team and have them deliver the body to Captain Ocellina's nest on the thirty-fourth level?" Fallon asked the guard.

"Yes Potentia." He nodded to one of his men, who turned to run down the street. "We'll secure the area and keep the body covered."

I kneeled next to what had once been Pruet Carna and forced myself to study the strange slime. It smelled horrible, like a combination of coppery blood, feces, tar, and stagnant water. I choked down stomach bile and stepped away from the corpse. The scent reminded me of Veer's house, but it also reminded me of the hidden room that had been discovered in Restina's brewery. That place had smelled of tar and strange algae.

"Let's go back to the brewery," I told Fallon.

"Think we missed something?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Pruet said that Fontyane went to get him more of whatever he needed. There is a drug in the vials, and they are putting into their beer. His blood smells like the beer that investigator Mitar found in the hidden room," I said.

"So you think Fontyane went to the brewery to take that beer? There is no way he can get it. We've got thirty guards there, and they all know what he looks like."

"Unless he is looking like this." I pointed to the corpse that leaked ooze onto the cobblestones with my rapier. The blade was covered with the slime. I grabbed a handkerchief from my pocket, wiped off the blade, and then sheathed it.

"I think we might be better off going back to the nest and pulling up records of Veer's family so we can speak with them, but I'll let you take the lead on this, pigeon." Fallon's wide mouth formed a smile, and I returned the expression.

Our Alulas changed to feathers, and we lifted into the air over Petrasada. As we flew back toward Restina again, I turned the pieces of this investigation over in my head. Fallon might be correct, and Fontyane may have gone to hide out with one of his family members, but I didn't believe it. Ash had hinted to me about something in the vials. If it was an addictive drug, then they might be mixing it with the beer, and they were drinking it for some reason. What if the bodies in Fontyane Veer's house might not have been of people he had murdered, but were instead of others who had sampled the drug? What if the stuff drove them as crazy as Pruet?

A theory formed in my brain, and I felt my breath catch as the pieces fell into place. They fit almost perfectly, and I knew that I'd figured out what was going on and Fontyane's involvement in everything.

"Fallon!" I called out to my wingmate as we dove toward Restina's property again.

She looked at me as we neared the ground, and she turned toward me when we landed in the shipping yard of the warehouse.

"It is gone," I said as I looked around us.

"What is gone?"

"The cart that Dust tried to steal." There were a few guards standing fifty feet away at the covered entrance to the warehouse, and I beckoned to them.

"Perhaps someone took it inside?" my wingmate asked. Her eyes narrowed at me, and then a smile spread across her lips. "Did you figure something out?"

"Yes." I smiled back at her and turned to the approaching guards.

"Where was the cart that was sitting right here?" I asked them.

"I'm sorry, Potentia, which cart?" one of the guards asked.

"It was here ten, maybe fifteen minutes ago. The man we arrested was attempting to steal it." After I finished speaking the group of men turned to each other and frowned.

"Shit," Fallon said. "Let's go find it."

We took to the air again and corkscrewed on a rising updraft. When we reached a few hundred feet above the city, I flew as close as I could to my wingmate and yelled into the wind.

"I'm guessing that he'll head back to Pruet's house." She nodded at my words, and we darted down the sides of the city.

I hadn't really looked for the cart on the way back to the brewery, but I was familiar with the rickshaw, and I knew that I could pick it out of a crowded street from my elevation. After a few minutes of travel over the city, I saw the small cart and a shrouded man pulling it down the ramp. I pointed to Fallon and made a hand signal to ask her if we should arrest him now, and she nodded. We dove through the air like hawks and landed in front of the man.

"Fontyane Veer, you are under arrest for the murder of Rafa Manus, Aetius Colo, Naris Manin, Tronique Ballator, Valteera Royar, and Quentin Eamat. Apply the brake to your cart and then kneel on the street with your palms touching the back of your head," I ordered the man. His body was covered with gray bandages, as was his face, and he wore a wide-brimmed hat such as a farmer would wear.

He coughed into his bandages and then moved to pull up the lever that controlled the brake on his rickshaw. Fallon and I took a step toward the cart, but Veer suddenly skipped forward and let go of the poles. The man spun out of the way, and his rickshaw rolled down the ramp toward us.

Fallon made a grab for one of the poles, and I tried to grasp the other one. My gloved hands closed around the wood, but the thing was too heavy, and the ten feet of rolling momentum made the full cart unstoppable. My boots slid across the cobblestone street, and I felt the weight of the thing push me over.

"No!" Fallon shouted as the cart pivoted around her and started to tip precariously. I jumped backward and willed my cloak to convert into wings. A blast of air from the tumbling wood pushed me away, and my wingmate managed to roll to her side. The cart turned into a rolling avalanche of crates, wood shrapnel, bamboo missiles, and flying beer bottles. It was a bit before lunch time, but the wide ramp leading up to the next level still had plenty of citizens walking it. The masses screamed with surprise and ran out of the way as best as they could.

The destroyed cart eventually came to rest at the bottom of the ramp, but the entire street was a disaster, covered in wood, glass, bamboo, shattered carts, and straw.

And beer.

The liquid was everywhere on the street. It dripped down the cobblestones, coated the road, and poured down the gutter. It didn't appear as if any citizens were injured or covered in the liquid, but I did see plenty of unbroken bottles lying on the street.

"Is anyone hurt?" I shouted out to the crowd. Fontyane had finished his sprint down the ramp and was cutting through the confused crowd away from us.

"Don't touch that beer!" I yelled at a man that was about to pick a bottle up from the ground. "No one touch the beer! It is poison!" The crowd gasped, and they moved away from the liquid.

"Fallon, are you okay?" I yelled to my wingmate as I sprinted after the suspect.

"I'm fine. Get him, Anelia!" Fallon shouted, and the situation reminded me of my first chase outside Rafa Manus' tavern.

It had only been a few days since I had chased the rancher Spurius Canta, but I'd used my Alula almost constantly since then, so when my wings spread to launch me into the air, I quickly devoured the distance on the man I was chasing.

Veer seemed to realize that I had the speed advantage, and he glanced over his shoulder when I was fifteen feet away. The bandaged man turned sharply into an alleyway, and I missed the kick I had aimed at his back. I landed beyond him and cut a sharp turn to chase him into the narrow space between two adobe buildings.

The man was fast, and he had already made it about forty feet into the narrow passage. He jumped over a stack of trash crates, scaled a bamboo fence, and then disappeared from my view. I'd run various obstacle courses during my training, and while I couldn't expand my wings to their full length in the narrow alley, I used a bit of their lifting power while I bounced my boots off the fence and the wall of the building. I floated down the other side of the drop in a controlled half-glide and saw that I'd gained a dozen feet on Fontayne Veer.

"By the Priestesses, halt!" I yelled in the hope that he'd actually give up this chase, but the man didn't acknowledge my command and made a high jump in an attempt to scale another bamboo wall. He almost missed his grab for the top, but his fingers latched on, and he managed to throw himself over the side.

I jumped high against the wall and flipped over the top. My wings flapped out for half a second to steady my fall, and then I landed in a full-speed sprint.

On a bridge that carried me over the next lower floor.

It was a bamboo walkway that connected this floor to a high housing tower almost a hundred feet away. It looked as if it may have been a construction scaffolding bridge, and the towers of the nearby buildings had hidden it from the air. It was a good sixty feet to the ground, and Fontyane stood dead still at the middle point of the crossing. He stared down at the dark alley below and then shuffled the front of his boots over the edge.

"Don't jump, Veer! Just surrender peacefully. There will be a trial. You don't need to kill yourself."

I took a dozen steps closer to the bandaged man, and he turned to face me. I couldn't see the expression of his face because of the bandages, but his eyes were the same bloodshot red as Pruet's.

"There is no hope," he gasped.

"You will get a fair trial, Veer. Please step toward me. You don't need to kill yourself," I raised my hands with my palms toward him and tried to speak in a soothing voice.

"I didn't want to kill them! Any of them. They were so hungry. I couldn't give them enough. Then I couldn't get more of it. They wouldn't give it to me. It was their fault." His voice was a whine.

"I understand," I said. "Can you step over here please? The Priestesses will give you peace. They will bless you and end your pain."

"The Priestesses?" he asked, and his voice became a shriek. "The Priestesses? I made a mistake. I should have never agreed." His eyes focused on me, and the bloodshot orbs glowed with hate. "You've done this to me. Stay away!"

He took a few steps away from me on the bridge. The path was a good three feet wide, but it was just bamboo planks and had no guard rail, so he had to hold his arms out to maintain his balance. I stepped onto the bridge, and my Alula cape transformed into the feathery wings of my sisterhood.

"Stay away. They sent you to kill me, but I won't let you." His voice was a hair above a whisper, and he reached into the flapping bandages that surrounded him. I thought he might have pulled a knife or dagger out of the folds, but instead he pulled out a pistol.

My heart had already been racing in my chest, but it skipped three beats when he leveled the gun at me. I was twenty feet away, and I wondered whether the man could actually aim the flintlock at me. His arm looked surprisingly steady, and his red eyes seemed to have lost some of their insanity.

"I'm not trying to kill you, Veer. Put the pistol down please." I lowered my hands as I spoke and hoped that he would follow my movement. He didn't, and I realized that I was just a finger pull away from death.

"They sent you to do it. I don't remember you."

"I just started with the Potentia. It is my third day on the job," I said.

"You'll ruin everything. I'm sorry. It has to be--" I didn't wait for him to finish. The obvious movement would be to throw myself backward, away from his bullet, but I dove forward off the bridge.

I fell to the right and wrapped my left hand around the bamboo of the walkway. He fired, but adrenaline filled my body to the brim, and I couldn't tell if he had hit me, or if I was just jostled when my hands clutched around the ledge of the bridge. I swung under the planks and used my Alula to lift me up on the other side as if I was swinging on a bar. My legs came up first from under Fontyane, and they wrapped around his waist as if I wanted to ride him. I yanked hard with my arms, back, and shoulders once I had him in my grasp.

Then we fell off of the bridge.

He screamed and let go of his pistol. I screamed, but it wasn't because his bullet had connected. My shout was a cry of victory mixed with joy. My wings spread out from my upper back, and they caught the air like a lover's embrace. By the time the two of us reached the ground below, I already had the man's arms handcuffed behind his back and had pulled two daggers from among the bandages on his body.

"Fontyane Veer, you are under arrest," I said as Fallon landed next to me and a dozen guards surrounded us on the street.

Chapter 19

"Fontyane Veer came up with the drug while he was working as an apothecary's apprentice. He got a position with our nest so that he could easily partner with Pruet Carna and mass produce it. They had sourced out a large operation that partnered with Rafa Manus' moonshine distribution. They used Quentin Eamat for cases. Valteera Royar had potware that the guards found in Pruet's house. Tronique Ballator crafted Rafa's distillery equipment, and he was going to make more for Veer. Narius made the carts for Restina and had recently made a batch with side paneling that could be rotated to conceal the branding."

"So that it could ship out of any brewery's warehouse and not be stopped by guards?" Captain Ocellina asked from behind her desk. Fallon and I sat in her office, and we were debriefing her on the case.

"Yes. He knew the guard patrols here. It was part of his contingency plan."

"Where does Dust come into this? From your report, he knew about the panels on the rickshaw and which beers had the drug in them."

"He is probably the mastermind behind all this, but Veer said he didn't know the man, other than by reputation," I said with a smirk. "Dust tried to kill me when I got too close to Rafa's operations, and he knew about the drug-laced beer being stored at Restina. His name was also in the ledger I found hidden in Aetius Colo's room." I wiped my eyes with my fingers and fought against a sigh of exhaustion. Fallon and I had questioned Fontyane for three hours, and he proved my hypothesis with half-insane answers. After we had interrogated him, I'd spent another fistful of hours compiling the report that lay on the captain's desk. I was starting to feel like I was insane, but I probably just needed to sleep for a week.

"But Fontyane admitted to the murders. So it is possible that Dust is just the money," Fallon said to the captain.

"Could be. I tried to ask him a few questions today, but he said he'd only speak to the pretty brunette Potentia who arrested him." Ocellina shook her head, and her long black hair reflected the light from the open window. "We can spend tomorrow interrogating him."

"What about all the bodies in Veer's home? Why did the drug have that effect on their bodies?" the beautiful woman asked.

"Fontyane said he changed the recipe by adding algae yeast, and it became more addictive. At first, he thought that feature was great, but then he couldn't make it fast enough, and his suppliers couldn't deliver their wares to him. It had that effect on his mind and body. He said he killed some of the people in his home to protect himself once they became enraged, but others died from lack of the drug."

"Captain, the guy's brain is rotten. He blamed the Priestesses for the whole thing. He said they made him do it. I was surprised that Anelia was able to pull a quarter of what she got out of him," Fallon said with a laugh.

"The report mentioned that Pruet's blood had turned to a yellowish mush?" Ocellina asked.

"Coroners are trying to figure out what the drug did to his body. It will probably take them a week," I said.

"Well, it sounds like this case is solved. The suspect admitted to the murders, and the evidence points to him. We will try to get more out of Dust tomorrow, and the coroner's report will be an interesting read, but great job, you two."

"Thank you," Fallon and I said together.

"I still have a few leads to chase. Aetius Colo's ledger had the names Damara Trillion and Laramae A. There is also--"

"When was the last time you slept?" Ocellina asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Three, maybe four days ago," I said. "But there is something I want to talk to you about. Something that happened in Rafa Manus' tavern. I ended up under the city--"

"Stop," Ocellina raised her hand, and a smile formed on her perfect lips. "When was the last time you had a beer?"

Fallon let out a laugh, and she covered up her mouth when I looked at her.

"Two days I believe." I smiled at the woman.

"Alright, let's go. We need to celebrate." Ocellina stood up from her desk and walked toward the door of her office. "You have a place that you like?"

"I do, but it is on the far side of level twelve," I said. I knew that Fallon's family came from the mid levels of the city, but Ocellina was an orphan just like me. She probably wouldn't mind drinking at a working-class place like Juliana's.

"Sounds, good. I'm buying. You coming, Fallon?"

"Yes, captain," Fallon said. "Wouldn't miss it."

The words made my heart warm, and the gruff blonde woman gave me a nod.

The three of us stepped out of the office and into the bullpen of the nest. My heart was still fluttering with the captain's brief praise and her invitation to go drinking, so I was caught off guard when the two women stepped aside. There were ten other women standing in the bullpen, each with their blue Alulas hung over their backs. I knew them all by name and description, since they were my nest sisters, but I hadn't seen anyone besides Fallon in the last three days. They had all been busy with their own assignments, and the introductions had yet to be made. There were also about fifty guards assembled in the space, and I recognized all the sergeants, as well as Mitar with a group of other investigators. All the gathered women and men stood at attention facing me. In the middle of the bullpen was a woman dressed in beautiful flowing robes that were the same color as my Alula.

A Priestess.

I recognized the woman as the same Priestess who had given me my Alula. She was tall and slender like a willow tree, and her platinum hair flowed over her robe like a waterfall of moonlight. When I made eye contact with the woman, she smiled at me, and the sunlight through the windows of the nest seemed to glow brighter. The room was silent for a few moments, and then Ocellina began to speak to the gathered crowd.

"When Potentia are first given their wings, they are named pigeons. Not because of any disrespect to the bird species, but because rookies are going to be doing little else but picking up trash and trying not to get killed." There was a brief bout of laughter in the room, and the captain turned to me.

"Most of our sisters are promoted within the first two years; as soon as they solve enough cases to impress their captain or they solve a major case that brings favor from the Priestesses. That is what makes this promotion so unique. In the history of our order, there has never been a pigeon promoted as quickly as Anelia Orba. It has been three days since she joined our ranks, and even though I believed she had great potential, I would have never believed that in that span of time this young woman would have apprehended the serial murder who is plaguing our district, discovered and ended an illegal moonshine and tax evasion scheme, and arrested a man who we suspect is one of the criminal masterminds of our city. This promotion is unprecedented because Anelia's results are extraordinary."

The gathered men and women applauded with Ocellina. I tried to keep my cheeks from burning and the room from spinning, but I failed at both, and a stupid smile spread across my face. I hadn't expected to be promoted so soon. I hadn't even considered it, but the captain must have deemed my performance extraordinary, and I felt my heart swell when I thought of my mentor.

"We are very proud of you Anelia. I have brought a vase of water from the Apa Pool. Will you allow me to bless you again with its magic?" The beautiful Priestess floated toward me, holding a dark blue ceramic vase in her hand.

The crowd hushed again, and I knelt before the woman. From what I understood, this wasn't the normal promotion procedure. I had thought that Potentia were fully promoted by their captain with a token speech, and then a small drinking party. I had heard that a Priestess would sometimes attend our promotions, but I had never heard of any Potentia receiving a blessing after the first that allowed us to bond with our Alula cloaks.

"The Apa Pool is our life. From it, Petrasada is born, and from Petrasada, our souls are created. We return to the Apa Pool when our bodies die. Its magic is life, death, and a reflection of the suns. May you be blessed by its love and energy."

I felt the water pour over my head as the woman spoke. My scalp tingled, then my shoulders, chest, back, everywhere the water touched felt as if it was almost burning. The memory of my first blessing was still fresh in my mind, and I knew that the sensation would almost become painful before it would subside. It did as I expected, and the heat of the water faded as the liquid ran off my body.

"Drink the rest, Potentia Anelia." The woman handed me the vase, and I saw my sisters’ eyes widen.

"Are you sure?" I had never heard of anyone but Priestesses drinking directly from the Apa Pool.

The woman nodded and slid her hands away from vase. I glanced to Fallon and Ocellina. Both women looked as if they had recovered from their surprise, and they gave me approving smiles.

I raised the jug to my lips and took a drink. There was only a bit left, half a mouthful really, but it burnt down my throat like fresh moonshine, and I felt my vision swim with drunken pleasure. I handed the jug back to the Priestess, and the crowd erupted with applause.

The beautiful woman smiled at me, and the crowd quieted again so that they could hear her words.

"We are proud of this nest." The woman turned to the gathered Potentia and guards. "Please continue to protect Petrasada, and we will pray for your safety. " The woman bowed her head and the gathered crowd returned her movement.

Except for one man.

The far side of the bullpen housed the jail cells. We only had six in our nest, and they were on the small side. Two of the cells had bars that faced into the bullpen. Dust occupied one of those cells alone, and his golden eyes met mine when everyone else bowed low to the Priestess. The handsome man shook his head and then beckoned to me before the crowd rose from their genuflection.

"Now I will return to the Apa Pool. Thank you all, and thank you Anelia Orba." The woman smiled to me, and then she was gone, as if she had never stood in the nest to begin with.

As if we had all dreamed of her beauty and grace.

The guards howled with delight, but my sister Potentia didn't seem surprised by the Priestess' sudden disappearance.

"Hey! Shut up!" Fallon yelled over the sound of the crowd, and everyone hushed each other back to silence.

"We are drinking at a tavern on level twelve." She looked at me. "What was the name?"

"Juliana's Place. It is painted pink with flowers on the roof," I said to the crowd.

"So if you aren't working, meet us there as soon as you can."

"I'm buying!" Ocellina shouted, and the crowd cheered.

"I'll meet you out front in a minute," I said to Fallon and Ocellina as we threaded our way through the packed bullpen.

"Alright, we'll wait for you." Fallon smiled at me.

I walked back toward Dust's cell. The going was a bit slow, since everyone wanted to congratulate me and introduce themselves, but I made it to the bars after five minutes and stood before the golden-eyed man with my arms crossed.

"Yes?"

"Ahh. I beckon, and you come. Such a good little servant you are." He said the words in a sing-song voice.

"I thought you had something important to say, murderer."

"Wait," he said as I turned to walk away. I stopped and faced him again.

"You should keep that in a holster. You'll scuff the barrel." He pointed at my belt. I looked down and realized that I had forgotten about the gun he had given me.

"I asked the guards to put my holster and shot pouches on your desk. Is that it over there?" He pointed at the desk that had been assigned to me, and I saw that he spoke the truth.

"Is that another gift?" I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Yes," he said with a smile that reminded me of when his twin tried to get me to drink a beer with him. "No strings attached, take it, use it, but just be careful of who you point it at."

"What do you mean?"

"Congratulations on the promotion. And the blessing. I wonder what magical power you might inherit," he changed the subject to the ceremony. Being blessed by the Apa Water was rumored to give magical abilities. Or at least it allowed Potentia to use their Alula cloaks.

"What about pointing this pistol? Is this broken? Do you intend for it to misfire?" I asked.

"No, it will aim perfectly. If you are a good enough shot and you use the lead in my pouch, then you'll be able to hit someone at a hundred yards. You should just be careful of who you point it at," he repeated.

"I won't hesitate to protect this city from people like you," I growled at him.

"People like me?" He feigned injury by placing his hand on his chest over his heart.

"Murderers, thieves, and drug dealers."

"Ahhh, well. You are late for your celebration party, and I am late for a nap on this comfortable jail cot."

"I'll be asking you more questions tomorrow," I said as he turned his back to me and walked to the bed in the corner. "In Manus' inn, you mentioned that half a million people would die. I am going to be starting there."

"Oh? That will be interesting, but you might not like my answers. Don't forget your holster and ammo pouches. Did you finish loading it? Make sure you do that now." He waved his hand as he walked away, and he didn't turn back toward me.

"What? Why?" I asked the man, but he had reached the cot and was pretending to sleep on it.

I figured that I would interrogate him all day tomorrow and figure out the depth of his criminal undertakings. Tonight, I would take a break and celebrate with my mentor, my wingmate, and the rest of my family at Juliana's Place.

I took a few steps toward the exit of the nest and then stopped myself. Then I walked into the bullpen, to my desk. I loaded the pan of my pistol with the black powder, closed the frizzen over the dish to keep it from falling out, and put the weapon in the holster. The other pouches fit onto my belt, and I gave one last look at Dust's cell before I walked out of the building.

Chapter 20

"Then she kicks him in the balls and throws him out of here with one hand! His two buddies try to fight, but she breaks one guy's arm and the other one's nose. They haven't been back here since!" Juliana leaned her head back and let out a roaring laugh that was almost matched by Fallon's.

"Ugh, you tell that story almost every night," I smirked at the big blonde woman, and then drained the last of my beer.

"It's a good story. I don't need to hire a bouncer. Everyone just knows you are here for every meal, and if they try to start something, you'll just give them a thrashing. Now that you are a Potentia, it is even better," Juliana said as she replaced my empty beer glass with a full one.

"I enjoyed the tale. Did I tell you about her first day? She broke through someone's roof and the first floor of their apartment," Fallon said.

"Ugh. This is embarrassing." I put my head in my hands and moaned. We had been drinking for what felt like four hours, and while I wasn't completely intoxicated, the walls were wobbling a bit when I turned my head too quickly.

"Not as embarrassing as your brother getting rejected by Captain Ocellina all night." Severa slid into the barstool next to mine and gestured to a table where my brother sat with the raven-haired beauty and one of my Potentia sisters, Iovia. I couldn't hear what Vibus was saying to my boss, but the look on Ocellina and Iovia's face made it apparent that they thought he was ridiculous.

"He is going to get me fired," I jested with the red-headed woman.

"I doubt it. You might be the only person in Petrasada who has been blessed twice. I'm thinking that Ocellina should be worried about you taking over in a few months."

"That is very unlikely," I said with a laugh.

"Yeah, but you gotta hand it to Vibus, he has ignored every other girl in the tavern tonight. I think he is in love."

"He is an idiot," I laughed again.

"Oh, speaking of love," my friend turned toward me and wrinkled her freckled nose, "did you talk to that handsome man?"

"Handsome man?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, he asked if I knew you. I told him that of course I did, we are best friends. I told him to go talk to you, but he seemed shy. He didn't need to be though. I was about to ask him if he could come back to my place so we could drink privately."

"What did he look like?"

"Tall, muscular, dark brown hair. Beautiful eyes. Light brown, like amber. He told me his name, but I can't remember, probably because I hadn't drunk enough." Severa frowned and then spun one of her red curls.

"Ash?"

Yes! That was it! How do you know him?" her green eyes grew bright, and she leaned closer toward me so that she could hear better.

"I don't really know him. Did he say anything else?" I asked, and I realized that my heart was beating quickly.

"He asked about you, I pointed over to your usual spot at the bar and told him to go talk to you. Then he said something like, 'she knows where to find me if she wants to talk. His voice was really deep and sexy. Then I decided that I wanted him to come back to my place, but he had already left."

I sighed and brought my fresh glass of beer up to my mouth. I felt as if the Apa Pool water that I had drank was still burning my throat and stomach, but the beer seemed to numb the weird tingle for a few minutes.

Should I go talk to Ash now? Should I go arrest him? I doubted that the man would actually be waiting for me at his uncle's blacksmith's shop, and the thought of seeing him again made me uncomfortable in ways that it shouldn't. What I really needed to do was talk to the captain at length tomorrow about what had really happened. Then we could interrogate Dust. Then I could seek out Ash and arrest him. The plan bounced around in my drunken head for a few more moments, and I decided that it was a good one.

"Mind if I slide in here?" Ocellina stood next to Severa suddenly, and the green-eyed woman blushed the same shade as her hair.

"No ma'am." Severa moved a seat over at the bar, and my captain sat between us.

"Your brother--"

"Is an ass. I apologize for anything disgusting he might have said to you, and will say to you anytime he is around you in the future."

"Haha," she laughed, and it sounded like bells over the ugly roar of the crowd. "He's a character for sure. If I was younger, and not a Potentia, I would probably fall in love with him. It would be foolish of course, but that is what love is, no?" She raised her glass of beer to toast.

"That is what the minstrels say," I said as I brought our glasses together.

I was about to ask her of her experiences in her orphanage, to see if we had a lot in common, but the door to the pink-painted tavern swung open suddenly. A pair of Potentia from my nest walked inside and waved to me. I recognized them as Karcsi and Villetta. For a second, I thought that they might have just gotten off their shift, but their faces were grim, and the talk inside of the tavern silenced instantly.

"What is it?" Ocellina asked as she slid from her stool with the grace of a cat.

"The man known as Dust escaped. They used mining dynamite to blow a hole through the wall of the nest," Villetta said.

"And they threw a smoke bomb into the bullpen," Karcsi said.

"Shit!" Fallon and I cursed at the same time. The captain raised her hand, and the room was silent again.

"What else?"

"Pruet Carna was murdered in all the confusion," Villetta said, and her jaw tightened.

"I see," Ocellina sighed. "Alright Potentia, time to go back to work." The other six women were already standing, and I waved back to my friends as we walked out of the building.

"I want everyone back at the nest except for Anelia." The women nodded at the order, and they all opened their Alulas into feathery wings.

"Should I stay?" Fallon asked.

"No, head back. Anelia hasn't slept in three days. I want her to get some rest."

"I don't need to sleep, captain. Dust was my catch. I want to find him again." I felt my stomach thrash around uncomfortably, and I cleared my throat. I didn't feel drunk anymore, and my nerves felt only anger at Dust's escape.

"I know you do, but if that man was actually the Dust that we think he is, we aren't going to find him. He had this escape planned. Maybe he even had it planned before you caught him stealing from Restina. One additional pair of eyes isn't going to find him at this point. I have to look out for the Potentia under my command, so I want you to rest at least until the suns are at midday, but I'll be happier if you come in later."

"But I--"

"No," she held up a finger. "Fallon will cover for you. Rest. That is an order. Understand?"

"Yes, ma'am." I nodded at her, and she smiled.

"Let's go, Fallon," Ocellina said as she took to the air.

"Sleep, Anelia. I'll bring you up to speed when you get back." My wingmate nodded to me and followed the beautiful woman's climb into the early morning sky.

I waited until they were just light blue dots in the distance. Then I commanded my Alula to turn into wings. They beat their feathered muscles against the air, and I slowly rose above Juliana's tavern.

I was tired. No, I was exhausted. But now I felt like a raw nerve, and I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep. So instead of flying home and obeying my captain's orders, I turned my body to face the lower levels of the city. Then I glided toward the blacksmith's shop where I knew I would find Ash.

If one brother had escaped, I would just arrest the other.

End of book 1

Thank you for reading this novel. Don't forget to write a review!

Anelia’s Potentia work continues in Wings of Law City of Light Book 2

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Editing by Andy Waters

Cover art by Ivan Tao

Typography by John Poh

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Copyright © 2016 by Michael-Scott Earle

Destroyer Book 1

Chapter 1-Kaiyer

When I dreamed, it was always of floating green islands. Slow waterfalls tumbled off the sides of rocky earth and disappeared into smoky blankets of mist and unpainted clouds. I jumped between the floating islands with a lazy, drifting bounce, somersaulting amid endless blue sky, punctured by the occasional flock of giant white birds.

In the far distance, sailing ships passed through the azure air like it was water. Often I attempted to reach these vessels, but even my greatest leaps fell short and left me to land on another lush island, conveniently placed to catch my fall. In this dream paradise I never noticed anything living besides the trees, birds, and the distant ships.

Perhaps it is wrong of me to say when I dreamed, as if I only did it sometimes.

I was always dreaming.

I had dreamed of islands for so long, I knew no other life. Then an awakening began. A soft, orange glow peeled back the colors of blue, green, brown, and white, like a sun rising in the morning. The light came from torches which lit the cavernous mausoleum where I had been kept. I don't remember smelling anything in my dreams, but as my crypt was illuminated, my nostrils filled with the aroma of dirt, dust, death, and terror.

Fear emanated from those who awoke me. The delicious scent of their terror filled the cavern like the light pouring from their torches, reflecting off the stone floor and around the group. The five stood twenty feet from me, three males and two females.

Closest to me was a boy with shaggy brown hair, freckles, and disheveled clothes covered with dirt. He held a leather-bound book, its pages and spine crumbling with wear only decades of use would beget. The boy's flesh almost matched the color of the clouds from my dreams, and his dilated pupils hid the true shade of his eyes. His heart raced like the staccato rush of a warhorse galloping down a rocky slope.

Behind the boy was a man holding a bow with an arrow notched and pointed at my face. His leather clothes were cut tight against his body and oiled to a soft shine. His long dark hair was tied back and his eyes were giant pools of blue. His hands shook as he struggled to keep from releasing the shaft he had pulled back. There seemed something familiar about the man, but my lethargic brain fought against any attempt to remember, and my eyes darted to the next member of the group.

To the left and five feet behind the man crouched an attractive woman who had recently passed her girlish years. Her thick dark brown hair was knotted up into a ponytail on the top of her head. She wore tight-fitting leather pants and a suede-patched green shirt. The clothes were covered in a fine layer of dirt, splotched with mud. She surely spent an abundant amount of time in the sun, her skin was almost the same shade as the dark patches of leather on her tunic. Her soft brown eyes gazed down the long sight of a heavy crossbow with determination, its unwavering barbed tip pointed at my sternum. The sound of her heartbeat might as well have been a soothing breeze of wind chimes when compared to the boy and archer.

I would have to kill her first.

Five feet behind the brown-haired beauty towered a large, grizzled man who carried a single-sided battle axe and a metal shield engraved with light purple etching. His chain mail hung about him, weightless as comfortable pajamas. He seemed ready for combat, but I tasted his fear like I sampled the dust and dirt in the air. His protective stance made me wonder whom he was blocking from my gaze. I focused behind him, and when my vision adjusted to the light I saw he stood in front of a beautiful girl. She peeped from behind the old man's shield at me with horror and disbelief.

The maiden had long blonde tresses cascading like white waves down to her lower back. A sudden memory of similar hair, but sun bright copper in color, ran through my thoughts and then disappeared before I could capture it. Her eyes were light blue, and her pale, creamy skin made me think of a cold drink of milk on a blistering day. She wore a fine looking purple tunic of crushed velvet and thick leather riding pants. Sparkles of gold at her ears and neck hinted at exquisite jewelry, but before I could focus on the glitter, the girl noticed my attention and ducked behind the big axe warrior.

The young boy said something, so I gently turned my gaze toward him to ensure the man and woman pointing weapons at me would not be startled. The boy stuttered out words I did not comprehend and I squinted at him in an effort to make my brain puzzle meaning from his language.

I sat on a long stone platform. The gray dais felt cold to the touch and it reminded me of the waterfalls that had been my companions for so long. I couldn’t remember anything before the islands. Maybe I didn't want to recall memories from before those dreams.

The boy shuffled his feet and studied his book with intensity.

"Are . . . you . . . the O'Baarni?" he stuttered through a thick accent. The name filled me with memories. A handsome man with dark hair, graying at his temples. A massive battlefield, rivers of fresh blood streaming around countless bodies. Men, women, horses. The smell of flowers and the brief flash of thick copper hair. Mocking laughter.

A single scream of heart-rending agony.

"Are you, the O'Baarni?" he said again, glancing back and forth between his book and my face. I realized that I was clothed in a soft gray robe and my bare feet touched the cold stone of the cavern floor. Sudden energy pulsed through me like the tide of an ocean. A memory of power came to my head, but the sensation was more familiar than a fleeting recollection.

"I do not know," I said. My brain told my mouth to say the words and my lips obeyed reluctantly. Still, he seemed startled by my response. "I have been dreaming. Is this a dream too? Were you supposed to wake me?" The boy glanced down at his book and flipped through the pages with frantic speed.

The large old man barked something command-like, and the boy replied back in their foreign tongue. The skittish man with the bow shifted his feet, but he didn't concern me. I found my eyes focusing again on the dark-haired young woman with the barbed crossbow aimed at my chest. Our eyes met and I held her gaze. After a few moments she started to bite her lip, and her heart began to beat faster. She said something strained to the boy and I gave her a small smile.

"We . . . can . . . not sleep . . . you . . . O'Baarni?" he said with hopeful emotion in his eyes.

Exhaustion crashed into me after the boy asked his question. I wanted to go back to the island, but I fought against the sudden desire to lie again on the stone and drift away to sleep. Another memory struggled beneath a thin layer of emptiness, as if I might be close to recalling something once held sacred.

"I can't remember. What is your name?" I spoke gently, wishing that he would understand better.

"I am named Paug!" He couldn't help smiling with excitement, and I found myself mirroring his enthusiasm. The other four people watching our exchange relaxed somewhat and I guessed that they meant me no harm.

"What are your friends named?" I figured an introduction would keep the woman from putting a hole through the important part of my chest.

He pointed behind him to the man with the bow.

"His name is Iarin." The man seemed startled to be introduced to me and managed a ghost of a smile.

"Her name is Nadea." The woman with the crossbow nodded but didn't lower her weapon.

"His name is Greykin," he said, pointing at the old warrior. Greykin also nodded before clearing his throat and spitting.

"She is Jessmei." The beautiful girl smiled at me and raised her right hand, then brushed the loose yellow hair back over her ear.

"What is your name?" the boy asked me after he had introduced his friends.

I considered the language barrier before answering.

"I don't remember." I tapped two fingers to my temple and shook my head. Paug flipped through his book again and smiled in satisfaction once he seemed to figure out what I had said.

"Do you . . . know . . . sleep . . . years?" he asked.

"It feels like a long time. Many years," I whispered while he flipped through his book. He nodded once I spoke but didn't look up from the pages.

"Do you have . . . hunger? Want food?" he read from the book and then looked at me afterward with an infectious smile.

I didn't feel hungry, but I thought I might get them all to relax if I ate in front of them.

"Yes," I said, and nodded.

The girl in the back yelled something, and she made her way toward a pile of equipment twenty feet behind her. The old man barked disapprovingly at her, but she had already moved outside his reach. He glanced back to me as my eyes followed her. I moved my gaze to the man with the bow, Iarin. His arms were shaking from holding the arrow taut for so long. The woman Nadea also appeared tired from pointing the large crossbow at me.

"Iarin and Nadea should lower their weapons. I mean no harm," I said to Paug. He flipped through his old book, but before he found the translation I made the shape of holding a bow with my arms and lowered it. He smiled and turned to tell Iarin, but the tall man had already lowered his weapon. Greykin made a sharp remark, but Iarin shrugged his shoulders and grinned back at me. Nadea replied to the axe man before lowering her own weapon. Jessmei walked past with a hunk of bread, yellow cheese, and a small piece of meat.

She studied me intently as she walked up to Paug. Greykin yelled out something, causing the blonde girl to open her mouth wide and look at me in fear. She handed the food to Paug before fleeing back behind the safety of the large man.

"Food . . . you," Paug said proudly, not needing to consult his book. He held out the bread, cheese, and meat to me, but he didn't move toward me.

I leaned forward off the stone platform and pushed myself to my feet. As I stood, the euphoric energy of the stone ground coursed through me. My blood burned, awakened and on fire. A metallic sensation filled my mouth, and the cavern spun dramatically. The orange light faded to gray. Nadea yelled, and before my vision faded to black, I saw Paug's horrified facial expression enlarge and distort.

Coolness rubbed against my face as my field of vision spread back from nothingness. I was lying on the stone platform bed. Nadea was applying a cool, wet cloth to my face and lips while Paug hovered on the other side of the dais and rested his palms on my chest.

"You fall down," Paug said, without his book. He looked concerned that I had fainted, but also carried an excited smile on his round face.

"Thirsty. Water," I said as I moved my hand up to touch the cloth Nadea held.

"Yes!" Paug said. He disappeared from my field of vision, and I heard his booted feet rush to their pile of equipment.

Nadea continued to caress my face with the cool rag. She whispered soft alien words I couldn't understand, but her relaxing movements helped me close my eyes and hear the familiar sounds of birds and water. A metal cup pushed against my lips and I sat up, with the aid of a few hands on my arms, and was able to drink. I opened my eyes and saw Paug's companions gathered around me, and I wondered why they were so interested in me drinking. The water burned down my throat like fire. It gave me power that felt like the stone on my feet. I startled, recalling another memory from before my dream. Laughter of friends, food, and water enjoyed with company. The sensation was wonderful.

Paug's cherub face split into a grin when he saw me enjoying the water. It wasn't entirely the pleasure of my thirst being quenched that satisfied me. The water seemed to be magical and was pushing back my fatigue.

"More please," I said, after I had drained the cup. Nadea sat next to me on the stone bed. She handed me a half-full water skin and I drank deeply. A bit of the water dribbled down my face onto my robe. Again I experienced the surge of fire burning inside me. I heard all of their hearts beating and the sound of the air leaving their lungs in the still silence of the mausoleum.

My vision cut through the darkness now like a sharp sword. The crypt was spherical, about six hundred feet in diameter. The pedestal I had been resting upon was in the center of the room. Across the massive dome I made out a small tunnel carved into the wall. The ceiling of the dome was smooth, like the perfectly chiseled floor. It must not have been cut by hand. My guess was that the cavern had been created with powerful magic.

"More?" Paug asked as I shook the empty skin. I nodded, and Nadea had a full one in my hands within seconds. I drank this as urgently as the first, and relished the strength that flowed through me.

"Food?" Paug sat next to me now on the stone platform and handed me a chunk of bread. I carefully took it from him, pulled off a small piece, and put it in my mouth. The bread was hard, so I had to chew many times before swallowing. My audience breathlessly watched every bite, but didn't seem to be afraid of me anymore.

"I am quite a source of entertainment, aren't I?" I said to Paug with a half-smile. He looked confused and then grabbed his book to attempt a translation. Greykin stood ten feet behind the boy, between Jessmei and me. He said something to Paug and the others erupted in laughter. Paug's face turned red with what I assumed was embarrassment. He said something in an apologetic tone before flipping through his book.

"No . . . you need food. You are not strong," he said. I nodded and he turned to smirk in Greykin's direction.

Within five minutes, the bread had been consumed and I tried a small bite of the cheese. It was so delicious that I had to force myself to eat slowly. The pangs of hunger ripped through my stomach now that I had eaten, and I wondered how much time had passed since food had last been in it. The meat was salted and bitter. Perhaps the beef was on its way to going bad, but I still enjoyed the complex flavor, even if each small bite forced me to drink a mouthful of water afterward.

When I finished eating, exhaustion crashed into my body again. Meeting Paug and his friends had been a nice recess from the floating islands, but now I wanted to return. My ears missed the sounds of the waterfalls and the large white birds. My body missed the sensation of leaping through the blue sky.

"I need to sleep again. I am tired," Paug nodded at first, but once he understood what I meant he shook his head.

"No sleep. We . . . go," he said. I ignored him and slid my body behind him to curl up on the stone bed. My legs brushed up against Nadea's as she moved out of the way.

"No. No. We go!" Paug said as the other voices began an angry retort. Their disappointment didn't matter though. The warm darkness began to close in on me. The stone felt familiar on the back of my skull, and the angry voices became like the murmuring of the distant ocean or the hum of a lover's satisfaction.

There were no more floating islands, birds, or ships sailing through the air. Only seconds had passed before rough shakes on my arm awoke me. A moan of frustration left my mouth, and I winced against the throttle of consciousness. Why couldn't I go back to the islands?

"Wake up, please. Many days have passed. We have to leave!" Paug pleaded. I opened my eyes and saw his worried face. The boy was obviously upset at my wish to sleep, so I pushed my tired body off of the cool stone. The group's pile of goods and equipment was gone and I wondered if I had dreamed the two beautiful women and the boy's other companions.

"We must go!" The boy shook me again. His eyes were fearful and he almost screamed the words. Iarin was pacing behind him like a trapped animal.

"I will come," I said, while preparing to stand. My hand brushed against something on the smooth stone. Very small writing was etched into the rock. Paug noticed the writing a second after I did and gasped.

Kaiyer,

You'll be angry for what we have done to you, but we had no choice. You forced our hand. I hope you can at least understand, if not forgive, our actions. In the end, you were the one who had everything and destroyed it. You were the one who betrayed us.

I wish you weren't so headstrong and could have accepted the world you were about to create. I wish Thayer, Gorbanni, and Alexia hadn't pushed their agenda. I wish you would have chosen differently. Perhaps your choice makes sense to me now that I know everything. I wish everyone could have told you instead of being afraid. We were always afraid of you. I wish you had seen that too. It is why we couldn't let you be.

I wish I didn't love her as much as I did. I wish she had loved me as much as she loves you.

I am sorry my friend. We will be dust by the time you read this, and you will be someone else's problem.

Goodbye,

Malek

Memories washed through me again, and I had to push against the stone to keep from falling. My body felt so weak. Malek . . . I remembered him, at least some of him, standing with my back to his, as dark menacing shapes descended on us. His dark hair and mischievous smile. His face was young, but he had gray at the hair of his temples. He had been my friend, I was sure. I didn't understand any more of these words. Kaiyer? Was that me? I didn't remember my name.

While my mind struggled to recall the past, Paug spread a thin piece of parchment over the inscription and frantically rubbed a small black rock over it. Once he imprinted the words, the boy folded the paper into quarters and stuffed it into the back of his book. My mind continued to search for something more from my past, but it was like trying to hold onto running water. I had the sensation of years of a life lived, but I could not grasp a single moment or solid memory long enough to recall anything of use.

"We go. Now!" Paug yelled at me and pulled on my arm. The anxious pace of Iarin and the stress in Paug's voice convinced me that something was amiss. The tall archer looked back and forth between us and the entrance with obvious concern. His left hand clenched his long bow, but he didn't have an arrow nocked.

I struggled to my feet and managed to stand feebly, like an old man. I might have tumbled over, but Paug let me lean on him. Unlike in the weightless islands, here my limbs convinced me that I must have been heavier than the massive stone slab on which I had been resting. I almost doubted that the young boy could assist me, but he did so without complaint. Fortunately, each step grew easier as the familiar power of the Earth flowed through my blood and added to my strength. Paug said something to Iarin, and the tall man moved to my side to help me walk faster.

By the time we stumbled to the small portal leading from my mausoleum, I had recovered enough strength to stand on my own. Taking a deep breath, I gently pushed them away from me and attempted to walk with my own atrophied muscles. The first few steps were easier than I expected, although my joints creaked like a dead tree in the wind and my head spun.

The exit turned into a tunnel that climbed upward at a medium grade. Iarin took the lead, with me in the middle and Paug behind. The walls started off cut from smooth stone, like the inside of the mausoleum, but gave way to dirt and rough black rock as we ascended.

"Halfway . . . top," Paug said behind me. He sounded out of breath from the exertion caused by the slope of the tunnel. Iarin was almost running and I wasn't having problems keeping up with him. My body still felt weak, but it was quickly regenerating. The exercise was enjoyable, and my body took pleasure inhaling deep breaths while my mind enjoyed the task of placing my feet on the rocky bottom of the dark tunnel.

After another few minutes of jogging, the dirt and stone walls turned into mud and smooth, slippery rocks. As we progressed upward to the surface, a small trickle of water began to carve into the middle of the shaft. The liquid fed glowing green moss that lit the path wondrously, but the tiny creek also made the footing treacherous with slippery slime. The air grew warm and my senses were overwhelmed by the scented plants and dampness of the surface. A few quick bugs darted from underneath my feet before I stepped on them, and I amused myself by studying their frantic movements.

Finally, we emerged from the tunnel and into a densely wooded forest. The trees were tropical, with large leaves pooling the dampness from the air like hands, and pouring the moisture as a soft rain onto the ground. The scents, noises, and light disoriented me after the journey through the dark tunnel. It was more a surprise of contrast, since even the tropical forest, with its green ceilings and singing birds, paled in comparison to the vivid dreams of the floating islands. This new world was very beautiful, intense shafts of light filtered through the thick canopy. The beams of sun accented the dancing purple butterflies and the small lizards hunting them.

The rest of Paug's companions had their backs to us. They held their hands up in a defensive position, as if they were surrendering. When Iarin cleared from my field of vision I saw that they had reason to surrender. Spread out in a half-circle fifty yards away, crossbows leveled at us, stood eight men.

The men appeared to be soldiers, dressed in cream-colored leather armor, with yellow sashes around their shoulders. Each wore a metal helmet that came up to a sharp dome, decorated with plumes of green feathers on the back rim. Their yellow sashes were embroidered with different insignia designs indicating rank.

Their leader said something, but none of my companions answered him. He said the sentence again with a bit more anger, and Iarin answered as he put down his bow and raised his hands. The leader of the armed men glared at me and said more demanding words I didn't comprehend, but I guessed he wanted me to raise my hands, so I did. He sneered at me in disbelief before issuing the same unknown command again.

Paug gave him a fearful response, and the leader of our captors yelled back at him. Paug grimaced at me and kneeled down into the muddy dirt. He deliberately raised his hands and tucked them behind his head once he had reached the ground, and all of my other companions repeated the same series of movements. I looked over to Nadea. Her expression was grim and she didn't make eye contact with me. Jessmei appeared terrified as the pool of mud seeped into her leggings. Greykin's face was a mask of disappointment. His eyes met mine, and although I didn't speak his language, I knew from his posture that these men intended to kill us.

The leader yelled at me again. I glared at him coldly. If I was going to die, it wouldn’t be without a fight. I was weak, but guessed I might be able to kill a few of them if I got lucky. Of course, having eight crossbows pointed at me meant I needed more than just fortune on my side. My brain sprinted into action and began puzzling ways to kill the soldiers before me.

The leader spat another command at me. He had a thick mustache, and his front tooth was crumbling with decay. His face turned a bright vermillion at my inability to follow his directions, so he handed his crossbow to the man on his right and lumbered toward me. The lackey fumbled with the two crossbows, and for a few precious seconds only six of them were a threat.

As the commander walked down to me across the muddy, mossy terrain, I examined the long sword and dagger on his left hip. Neither blade appeared to be tied in its sheath. It was another bit of luck in my favor, and the refined observation convinced me that I must have been very familiar with the violence about to be inflicted.

"Sit down!" Paug whispered to me as urgently as he dared, without suffering the enemy commander's wrath. I ignored the boy's words and tried to look confused.

The rotten-toothed leader was a little shorter than me, but he pushed his face up, nose-to-nose, so there was no escaping his vile breath. Then he expectorated the same command he had been repeating before. Despite the stench, I smiled to myself when I realized he was probably yelling, “Get on the ground.” I was starting to learn this language. The smile didn't impress the commander. He screamed the command again and wound his right hand back like a whip to deliver a backhanded blow with his leather-clad fist.

That was his last mistake.

My right hand came up and checked the back of his elbow so he couldn't move his arm to strike me. My left hand reached across his body and pulled the dagger from its sheath on his waist. As I drew the weapon, I turned its point inward, cutting past the leather of his armor, the silk cloth underneath, and into his soft belly. The blade was sharp, and it sliced the inside of his stomach open in a long red streak.

The dagger spun sideways as it left my hand in a throw, spinning drops of crimson blood lazily on its fifty-yard journey, before embedding itself into the soldier's neck on the far left. The man choked out a panicked gurgle from the impact of the dagger, and reached up with his left hand toward the hilt coming out of his jugular. I guessed that it would take him a minute to die, but in the meantime he might not be able to aim his crossbow at Paug and his friends.

My left hand returned to the waist of the commander. I took a fistful of belt, armor, and cloth, while the blood from his stomach wound began to gush over my clenched fingers. I lifted with both of my arms and pulled the commander's body off the ground. He somehow seemed lighter than a feather, but would serve my purpose.

I charged the other men with their leader’s body shielding me.

One arbalist to the right took a shot when his commander began to scream in wet horror. The bolt went wide over my head. As I took three more steps, a second weapon twanged, sinking a quarrel into the back of the commander and choking off his cry.

Four more steps and I had made it to the left of the semicircle. A few more bolts whispered past my head as the soldiers tried to kill me without injuring their commander. They should not have bothered trying to spare him. He would die when I finished with them.

The left most soldier tried to draw his sword. His palm had hardly brushed the hilt when I pushed my pointer and middle fingers together and drove them through his eyeball and into his brain. He had a dagger, but to draw and throw the weapon I would have to spin around the body of their commander, temporarily exposing myself to potential crossbow quarrels. These men seemed inept, so I decided to gamble and drew the long dagger out of the dying man's belt before tossing it.

The dagger left my hand at a poor angle, but it somehow corrected itself in midflight like a sparrow and took the final arbalist in the shoulder. The blade sunk into his armor as if it were made of cloth. My target had not expected the toss or the pain in his crossbow-bearing arm. Surprise caused him to pull the trigger and launch the bolt accidentally toward my new companions. I couldn't spare a glance in their direction, but I didn't hear a scream, so I guessed the quarry had not found a living target.

Four of them were left, not including the dying commander I clutched with my right hand, and the one who wouldn't be using his shoulder anymore. The soldier a few steps from me began fishing for his sword, so I pushed the commander's body toward him with as much strength as my weak body allowed. He flew like a small stone, and both of them tumbled backward. The receiving soldier's left foot caught a tree root and he landed with a wet sounding crunch.

The man who had accepted the commander's heavy crossbow before the battle started frantically tried to drop one of his weapons and fire at me with the other. I sprung toward him, light on my feet because I had tossed my body shield, and angled a slashing kick downward against his leg. My left shin connected above his right kneecap where the muscles formed a teardrop shape. I heard a satisfying snap and tear as the leg separated from the tendons and muscles that held the joint together. The force of my kick also carried through to his left leg, and he flipped over my cutting shin kick and dropped head first onto the wet jungle floor.

The last two soldiers stood twenty yards from me with their trembling swords drawn. Without speaking, they each fell back a few steps toward the edge of the jungle and away from Paug and his friends. I guessed from their facial expressions and the glances they made over their shoulders that they considered fleeing into the jungle.

The man whose leg I had broken lay screaming at my feet, so I bent down and pulled the longer sword from his sheath. He reached his hands after mine to stop me, but I smacked his weak arms aside before I freed the blade. The weapon fit well in my hand, but was a bit light, like a toy. Suddenly a brief memory shattered my concentration.

I stood upon a hill overlooking a grand valley. Thousands of soldiers, clothed in animal-shaped armor, mounting red banners, stood at attention. I walked down the slope and into their ranks. Some of the men and women had their helmet visors lifted; their faces were sunken, angry, and eager for violence. I yelled a command and the masses screamed with feral intensity. The flags had giant skulls on them and they twisted and snapped in the sharp, cutting wind.

I shook my head when my memory was interrupted by another screech. I flicked my wrist downward and let the blade of the sword bite into his brain through his skull. Then I tensed my wrist a fraction of a second later to bring the blade back up and silence the man's screams. I stepped over his body and walked toward the last standing men.

The remaining soldiers looked like cornered rats, so I took my time and closed the distance between us with a slow stroll. My feet were still bare and crushed the rocks, moss, leaves, and damp earth beneath them, just as I was about to pulverize the life from the man before me. This soldier seemed to be the youngest of the bunch, and I inhaled the sickly scent of fear on him and heard his heart beat faster than Paug's. The man hadn’t expected this outcome, but we both knew at this moment that I was going to destroy him. Our eyes made contact, and I read his feint before he tried to make a small cut, pull back, and thrust into me.

My blade swung out to meet his like he expected. He pulled back at the last second and my sword went wide, leaving me open. He dove forward with a thrust aimed at my midsection, but the flat side of the blade glided against the palm of my hand and I pushed the sword wide. His eyes opened in shock as he realized I had read his feint. My relaxed blade swung back with precision and I took the top half of his head off with a horizontal cut. His eyes darted around the jungle frantically while his body toppled. His brain hadn’t realized it was missing its top half and may have tried to send interrupted commands to the rest of his body.

My left hand grabbed along the blade of the falling man’s sword, and I flipped the pommel into my palm as I turned around to face the last attacker. He dropped his sword and kneeled as I walked toward him. His hands went on top of his head and he started pleading with me. I didn't like the balance of the sword in my left hand so I left the blade buried in his chest.

I surveyed the clearing for any more opponents capable of attacking. I had not expected to live through such an assault, but these men proved so unskilled that even in my frail state they were easier to kill than the bugs in the tunnel. I shook my head in disappointment before sliding my sword through the neck of the one who had the dagger buried in his shoulder. Once his annoying cries of agony were silenced I made my way over to the last living soldier.

He had pushed his commander's body off and clawed at the ground to scoot away from me. My sword cut the strap attaching his helmet to his skull and I smacked it off with the flat side of the blade. Then I grabbed onto the thick, oily hair on his head and dragged him back across the wet mud to Paug's companions while he kicked and screamed. Perhaps they would want to question him. The small group hadn't moved from their position on the ground in front of the entrance to the tunnel. They surveyed the massacre with fear and shock.

"Do you want to talk to him before I kill him?" I asked Paug. I put the edge of my sword to the soldier's neck and he started to say frantic things in the unfamiliar language.

Greykin got off his knees with a grunt and began to ask the soldier questions. The man replied with hysterical passion, but the words were still intelligible. Nadea further interrogated him before Iarin had his turn. They each stared at me in fearful awe after they finished their questions. Jessmei's skin was white and I wondered if it was her normal hue or if she was about to faint. I guessed that the young woman had not seen many battles.

After a few minutes they had finished with their questioning.

"What did they ask him?" I yelled to Paug. He didn't respond immediately and I realized he had sprinted a few dozen yards away from the group to vomit. He also must have been unused to combat.

"More?" I asked Greykin, wondering if the older man would understand me. He shrugged his shoulders, so I drew the sword across my captive’s neck and held his head while he bled out. My companions gasped in horror and started to yell, but they didn't move toward me. I regarded them with a raised eyebrow. They couldn't possibly wish to keep this man alive. He had tried to kill them and would be of little use as a prisoner.

When he stopped struggling I let go of his hair and pulled the weapon belt off of his body. Then I walked over to the other corpses and began to organize their weapons into piles. The commander had the best sword, an ornate affair that appeared to be better crafted and a bit heavier than the others. I tied his belt across my robe before I grabbed the next best sword and attached it on the other hip. I gathered the five best balanced daggers and attached them to another belt I slung over my shoulder. The work occupied me for ten minutes or so, and put my mind at ease. Had I done this before? The familiarity of the task helped to relax my nerves.

My companions spoke a short distance away from me. They sounded angry as they argued amongst themselves. I couldn't understand them so I didn't bother devoting any energy to trying.

I contemplated taking a pair of boots from one of the corpses before I realized the robe I wore wasn't very good for traveling. The soft, thin shroud was wet with mud, water, and blood. These dead men weren't wearing any travel gear, so their camp had to be within walking distance. One of the corpses had a pair of leather boots that I guessed would fit, so I sat on a nearby rock and tied them around my bare feet.

While sitting, I noticed the trail through the jungle the soldiers had used to find us. I looked back at my companions and saw them involved in a passionate discussion. Nadea and Greykin were arguing. Paug had returned to them from his vomiting break, but his back was to me. They did not seem to be paying any attention to me or the trail, so I debated my next action. I needed Paug to learn this language, but I did not need to know any of the decisions the group would make in the next few minutes.

I set off down the trail at a comfortable jog. The soldiers' campsite would be close by, and once I reached it I could acquire pants, socks, and maybe a horse. I could hear and smell Paug, so I didn't have any doubt I would find him again after I obtained some gear. As I ran, the energy of the sun, earth, and water invigorated me.

I was not tired anymore.

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Table of Contents

Table of Contents

Title Page

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

End Notes

Destroyer excerpt