My limbs were jammed against the rounded ladder shaft, loose dirt pouring in through the openings of my helmet. I didn’t dare adjust my head from where it was lodged. Seconds before, I had been right side up, pumping my legs to the droning sound of Yistopher's voice interspersed with the older man’s heavy draws of breath. The monotonous climb had been interrupted, first by a sigh of relief at reaching the exit, the creak of a hatch, and then the rattling of an explosion.

  My ears were tired of loud noises, yet sadly becoming accustomed to the pressure and cacophony of the detonations. I longed for nothing more than to return to the forest, where the worst offenders were peckish ravens. I missed their indignant squawks when I chose to eat my half of the meal instead of throwing it to them with the rest.

  “Yistopher?” I called into the darkness. His mage orb had gone out, and a swirling cloud of dust blocked most of the light from the opening. He was still above me. However, the hatch above him was gone, having splintered in a flash of igniting dragon’s breath.

  The older knight had insisted on replacing me at the lead, in case things were to go awry, as they most often did in my presence. I’d rolled my eyes and grumbled, taking the direction with the humorous spirit it had been given. I hadn’t expected things to go so disastrously wrong. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have let him.

  I was inclined to blame the witches, an obvious choice given the weapon used. Yet, they weren’t supposed to have any more of the stuff or to have stuck around after their bloodthirsty plans were put into action.

  I tested my grip, determining it was my foot hooked under a ladder rung that bore most of my weight. Digging my claws into the rough stone, I pulled myself upright. I coughed the dust from my lungs, which only agitated the settled dirt inside my helmet, and began to climb down to make space for Yis to retreat.

  “Are you okay?”

  Yistopher didn’t respond. He shook his head, more to centre himself than to respond, and swayed listlessly on the ladder for a heartbeat. I watched him climb the last bit, his boots slipping off the rungs as he struggled to find purchase, before he finally heaved himself out of the shaft. I followed, my hands gripping a coating of sticky liquid blanketed in the settling dust.

  The abbey wasn’t how I remembered it, despite my brief absence. The grass had lost its vibrant green hue and surrendered to winter, turning a yellowish colour to match the outside of the capital. The majority of the painted and carved runes had been defaced, replaced by a few smaller warding patterns that looked newly made. Burn pits littered the grounds near the barracks with ash and blackened paper rolling with the breeze.

  I breathed a sigh of relief; the place appeared abandoned. It didn’t take more than a second for that relief to turn sour as I cursed whoever thought it smart to trap the entrance.

  The tall walls cast shadows over the grounds where Yistoper had crawled to lie sprawled on his stomach. The sun-kissed skin of his left hand was raw and burned, and the sleeve of his green tunic was charred. He was missing his thumb and forefinger, the remaining fingers punctured with splinters. The beret was gone, likely at the bottom of the tunnel, and his usually tidy grey hair was dishevelled.

  Before I could take a step toward him, a girl with short black hair I hadn’t sensed in my distress burst out of the dormitory. Maisie stopped in her tracks while a second witchling with a sharpened stick for a spear stepped out, her braided auburn hair looped atop her head. We were all frozen, but for different reasons, considering they couldn’t recognise me under my armour. I hadn’t expected to see the girls again, and my current knightly attire was hardly going to help any sort of reconciliations.

  Andria pushed in front of Maisie, both glancing at what I hoped was merely an unconscious knight between us. Andria’s gaze settled on me, the still-standing threat, before turning back to the wide-eyed Maisie and speaking in Tehban. “Get Darine. We’ll meet at the temple.”

  Maisie opened her mouth, presumably to argue with the taller girl, but was forced back through the open doorway. She dug her heels in and held onto the frame, yet Andria got the door closed without taking her eyes off me.

  I stepped forward as a pointed stick was brandished my way, and knelt beside Yistopher. I grunted as I flipped him over and wiped the dirt and soot from his face with a pulled-up sleeve. Andria was more than twenty paces from us, and even if she was within prodding distance, I doubted it would matter.

  “There’s more,” she warned in accented common while fidgeting with her weapon. “Entire place is trapped. Tripwires and pressure plates everywhere you walk. And that was only a small amount on the hatch.”

  Yis' chest rose and fell with a strong concentration of mana that didn’t seem to dissipate as it should upon death. Beyond the missing digits slowly staining the grass red and a few dust-covered cuts on his face, he appeared relatively well considering how close he was to the blast.

  I lifted the chainmail covering my side and tore off a chunk of tunic to slow the bleeding.

  Shouting from inside drew my attention. Darine and Maisie were hurriedly opening and shutting doors, asking about what was happening outside or how they didn’t have time to argue. Andria shuffled from side to side, nervously glancing back between the doorway and the ladder behind me.

  She was worried more knights would emerge. From their perspective, the precaution on the hatch made sense despite not knowing if I was still alive to spread the word. If I were being honest, I had already moved on to questioning how the trap worked rather than feeling angry that we had fallen for it. Though Yistopher may have a different perspective when he wakes.

  I considered the situation, weighing whether I wanted to be reacquainted with the girls or if that would make things worse. They’d likely flee if I did nothing but kneel by Yistopher, but that would put them outside with the ghouls. Perhaps they’d try to kill me if I showed my face, or escape and pass along information to the other witches.

  They seemed to be the only ones present, as it was easier to discern the non-mages in the greater mana density of the inner rings now that I was looking.

  I placed my hands on either side of my helmet, hesitating before lifting it. I hadn’t had a chance to check a mirror lately, so the raised eyebrows and lips twisting into a frown may have been due to my unkempt appearance.

  “You…you conniving runt,” Andria spat in Tehban, seeming to search for harsher words to use. She sneered when she couldn’t. “Their armour fits you well, traitor.”

  I spat onto the grass to rid my tongue of the taste of dirt and shook out the dust from my hair. Not my appearance, then.

  The missing girls rushed out of the front of the dormitory. Maisie appeared from behind the building to my left with Darine’s arm slung over her shoulder and a large knapsack on her back. Darine’s limp was more pronounced than before as they hobbled across the path through the vegetable gardens towards the large barracks door. Darine turned to look over Maisie’s shorter form, eyes widening. Her shock tripped the two of them up, and both went down into the dirt behind a field of leafy vegetables.

  Andria couldn’t see the girls with the dormitory in the way, and rushed to the side to keep herself between the ladder and them. There was a squabble I could barely witness as Maisie tried to drag the other up to her feet. Darine swatted the dark-haired girl’s attempts away and stood on her own. Instead of heading for the exit, she limped towards Andria and me.

  I smiled despite the tense atmosphere, happy to see my old friends had apparently chosen to abandon the coven, and at least one of them wanted to talk. Maisie noticed my presence past Darine, but paused to brush off the dirt from her grey frock, using a few of the Tehban curses I wouldn’t be able to give a satisfactory translation for. Our eyes met when she straightened, and I was hopeful when her scowl wasn’t as deep as the other two.

  “Go!” Andria shouted, still trying to stay between us. “The kuba probably brought a whole death squad with her.”

  “Is that true, Patela?” Darine asked, leaning against the dorms to catch her breath. She looked too tired to hold onto her anger with me, but she was still better at choosing stinging remarks than Andria. “Oh, right. That’s not your name. Is it?”

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “Valeria,” I said, testing my voice. I didn’t think I needed the threat of a squad of knights to help me. “And no, it’s just us.”

  “Don’t you ever shove me away like that again,” Maisie interrupted, smacking Andria on the shoulder once she caught up. “You want to play hero, making me lug this one away on my own while you wave around your big stick? Was that the plan?”

  “Those aren’t the settlers' colours,” Darine said before Andria could launch into a defence of her actions. “You’re not with them?”

  “No. You’re not with the coven anymore?”

  “No.”

  Yistopher drew our attention with a groan and shifted to the side, but didn’t wake.

  I looked up and nudged my head towards the ladder with a ghost of a smile. “Was that meant for me?”

  “If only we were so lucky,” Andria said with venom. Though she leaned on the but of her spear instead of brandishing it at me. “I told them we should have used more.”

  “It was only meant to be a warning,” Darine said. “And I don’t think Pate—Valeria is here to hunt us.”

  “I didn’t expect to find anyone here. What convinced you to leave the coven? I’m surprised the Ambuya didn’t force you to stay.”

  “We’re old enough that they can’t drag us along so easily, not after they told us what they did,” Maisie said. She closed her eyes for a long while afterwards, her frown settling into something more neutral, sad even. “And they implied we may have to leave Darine behind if she couldn’t keep up.”

  “I still think they deserved it,” Andria said. “Brought it on themselves for hunting us.”

  Maisie pinched the girl's side before turning to me. “You don’t believe that. How bad are things out there?”

  I considered lying, except it wouldn’t do much to ingratiate myself with them when they found out the truth, not after all the dishonesty of our previous acquaintance. I certainly did not regret my deception, considering the damage I was able to do to the coven’s plans. But there was a lingering feeling of guilt about it, especially regarding my name. “No…but it's not our fault. None of us knew what they were planning, or what the wards we were placing would be used for.”

  Andria scoffed. “I wouldn’t have cared. I’m only here cause these two are stubborn.”

  I didn’t believe her on that account. Sure, the glare she directed my way was hateful, but the contempt she showed for the people outside the walls felt too forced to be genuine, and she wouldn’t have left Darine behind.

  “You’re the one who actually raised your voice at The Ambuya when she said it was necessary,” Maisie said, the glare swinging in her direction for a second.

  Darine pushed off the wall she had been leaning on and settled a hand on Andria’s shoulder. There was a hushed disagreement before Andria rolled her eyes and led the injured girl toward Yis and me. “Who is he?”

  I didn’t think speaking of Yis would bring any harm, if anything, letting them know he had nothing to do with the rems would be good. “Yistopher. He’s Drasdan. They’re down here to help, and are why the settlements are still standing.”

  “Drasda… That’s where you met Ulia,” Darine said, obviously stitching together the threads of information she had.

  I nodded, shuffling around him to make space for the newcomers. “It was, though I never meant to come with her to the capital.”

  “Was it all a lie?” Andria asked, now within spearing distance. “You always knew you were going to betray us? Give us up to them? Or were you offered something?”

  I tilted my head, my face twisted in concentration as I recalled my conversations with them. “I didn’t give anyone up, and I don’t think I lied about much… except my name. My mother was a witch, and I was apprehended by Drasda. My cage was just a lot nicer and more open-air. And like I said in the tunnel, the elders only blamed me so they could get everyone out of the city.”

  Andria refused to look at me and mumbled to the air. “Only her name? What a fucking joke.”

  Darine carefully let go of her shoulder and knelt beside me while Maisie came over and confiscated the spear before one of us lost an eye to it.

  “So he’s your, what? Prison guard?” Darine asked, fingers pressed against his neck. “They don’t torture and execute witches in Drasda? Make you drink the cleanser at anyone’s accusation?”

  “They do, the execution part at least, but I’m not much of a witch to my mother’s great disappointment. And he’s more of an overbearing uncle, at least I think that’s a decent description, never had one before.”

  “Me neither,” Darine admits. She looked up at Andria, who had her arms crossed now that she didn’t have the spear to hold. “Fetch some badges and whatever alchemy scraps are left.”

  Her freckled nose twitched, but a smirk crossed her lips as she seemed to forget arguing. “Anything to get me away from her.”

  “She doesn’t mean it,” Maisie said quietly as Andria stomped off. She turned to throw the spear into the garden, which wasn’t very far away, but hid it from view. “What’s going to happen when he wakes up?”

  “I explain to Yistopher that you’re no more guilty for what happened than I was,” I said, not at all sure what his reaction would be. “And then it depends on what you want. I’m not entirely sure about you being able to stay here.”

  “You told me there were people who could fix my leg,” Darine said, and I nodded.

  “Good. You owe me that much.”

  The otherwise reserved girl was being direct for a change, and I saw no issue with it. I would have insisted regardless of whether she asked. Andria soon returned with a roll of gauze, but before it could be applied, I had to pick out wooden splinters with the tips of my gauntlet. Maisie helped with a set of tweezers, while Darine directed Andria on preparing a makeshift concoction that used some ingredients I recognised were for recovery.

  The issue was that the coven had escaped with most of the essential and fresh ingredients, so we were left to argue about what constituted a good replacement and in what amounts. We talked in circles, facing shortages that had no alternatives and discarding components that would counteract others, which were more vital.

  Andria complained we were using too many resources on the enemy while Maisie wanted to wake him with a particularly foul-smelling brew.

  I argued for pain relief above all, but was rejected by Darine, who had read that blood ran more thinly from the biloba leaf. The conclusion to the discussion was embarrassing, as I scoffed at her words, pointing to the bandage Maisie and I had wrapped around his hand as a good counter.

  However, the issue wasn’t bleeding from the wound, but rather inside the head after it had been rattled by the dragon’s breath. I hummed my assent to the exclusion of the leap and shrank back from the next discussion, reminding myself I was among properly trained witchlings and not random alchemists who liked to use perfumes in burn creams.

  I asked about the supposed traps around the abbey. As I suspected, there were none. The only one was on the hatch, made with the residue left in discarded beakers we used to mix the alchemical.

  The three of us uninjured girls stripped the heavier man of his plate armour before lugging him into the dorms and cramming him into a bottom bunk made for someone of smaller stature.

  Yistopher and I had only planned to take a peek so he could see what the abbey was like. We needed to get back before we were missed, and a prolonged battle that could use his help was still being waged. Without his supervision, my mind started to wander elsewhere.

  Until Yistopher’s eyes cracked open, he groaned and shuffled in his cramped sleeping arrangements, lifting his bandaged hand to find the source of pain. He squinted with one eye and then widened the other, as if his vision couldn’t focus on the appendage.

  “Yis?”

  “Hmm? Val? What happened?” His eyes still failed to find mine. “Who are they?”

  “At least we know she didn’t lie about her name again,” Andria whispered.

  I ignored her. “There was a dragon’s breath trap at the top of the ladder. It—”

  “What ladder?” he asked, and then seemed to notice the three behind me for the first time, again. “Who are they?”

  His head lolled to the side, and he closed his eyes again before I could respond.

  “I’m sure he’ll be fine after rest,” Maisie said, a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

  “We truly didn’t mean to hurt whoever came up. Only scare them,” Darine added. “We only used the residue for exactly that reason.”

  “Forget him,” grumbled Andria. “What do we do now?”

  I’d also been thinking and had settled on a decision that Yistopher would hate, while they continued to discuss what to do next, but he wasn’t in a position to argue. If it weren’t for the ghouls still pressing in on the city, I would have liked to stay and make sure he was okay. “Can you look after him for a few hours?”

  “Why?” Andria asked. “Going to abandon him too? Is that what you do when things get difficult?”

  “Oh, stop it,” Maisie said with a whine in her voice. “You’re being childish now. It's not like we have a plan, and Valeria can help us if you stop making snide remarks. She’s already been through our situation and can help us.”

  We all looked at the girl with wide eyes, Andria’s eyebrows having climbed high on her forehead.

  The subject of our incredulity clicked her tongue and huffed. “I hate it when you act like me being angry is the most abnormal thing. I can be angry. I’m angry quite a lot, actually.”

  “You can be angry,” I said placatingly. “And no, I’m going to go find the lure runes Ulia and the others placed in the city. If you wait here and make sure he doesn't fall out of bed, then I promise to convince him to help you.”