“They can’t leave,” Messy said. There was a vicious satisfaction in her voice that she hadn’t put there intentionally. “They put in all this effort, caused all this damage as a distraction, and now they’re stuck.”

  “Yeah, they’ve figured that out,” Rayni said, hushing Messy so she could listen to what was being said in the square. “Karti’s saying, roughly, ‘When I say I can’t do it, I don’t mean I’m having trouble. It can’t be done. It’s locked down. Undoing it with the six of us will take hours.’ He’s being very apologetic about it.”

  “I’m sure he is,” Messy said bitterly. Just the thought of the elf’s voice sent a chill up Messy’s spine. Not because of any sinister quality — if anything, the one time she’d heard it, it sounded kindly and understanding. But she’d never forget that voice, or the one time she’d heard it. It would forever be inextricably bound to the terror that had frozen her in place when she heard it; a terror so complete that Messy hadn’t even been able to beg Ana not to go as she risked her life to strike at the heart of Karti’s cult.

  “Earthbreaker’s pissed,” Rayni chuckled. “We seriously need to get people here, though. I mean, the guy doesn’t sound like he’s going to do anything to destroy the Splinter with himself still here, but gods only know what they’ll do if they— Wait! Wait, wait, hush! A window just opened at Administration!”

  Now Messy didn’t need Rayni to relay what was being said. Captain Pirta could amplify her voice like few others and she did so, her voice booming across the square and through the streets beyond.

  “Karti! I believed you when you claimed to regret the suffering you’ve caused. And yet here you are, again bringing death and destruction to the innocent. I cannot imagine how you lost your way so completely.”

  “Pirta.” Even with all the pain it conveyed, Karti’s voice made Messy shudder with remembered terror. “You of all people should understand. When the Lord of Order issues a command, it is always for a reason, and always because it is necessary. The Lord does not deal in hunches. I taught you that!”

  “You taught me the value of order. Of rules. Of law. Of justice!” Pirta replied. Messy had heard her speak many times, most of them in the last three months, but she had never heard the Guild Administrator sound so lost and hurt. “Where is the justice in stealing people, thousands of people, from another world and turning them into little more than mindless beasts?”

  “Oh, the Earthbinder looked surprised at that,” Rayni commented softly. “And Pirta is holding something. Can’t quite see what.”

  “Where is the justice in sending those poor souls to kill and ravage all that they come across?” Pirta continued. “The Sentinel is supposed to be our bulwark against demons and chaos. He is the Lord of Order! The Lord of Sacrifice! Not the Lord of Murder and Cowardice!”

  “He commanded his Ascenders to bring us his will!” Karti’s reply was almost a wail of despair. “I have served him all my life! I cannot turn from his will!”

  “But I can.”

  A clatter echoed between the buildings ringing the square, and Rayni said, “Pirta just threw what she was holding at Karti’s feet.”

  “What is it?” Messy asked.

  “Sorry, can’t tell. Too far in this darkness.”

  Then a new voice spoke up, male, strong, and frustrated. “Pirta. That’s your name, yes? From your Class I assume that you’re the one in charge here. If you’ve finished your religious dispute, can we negotiate? I am far more interested in leaving this place than I am in causing further destruction, but I am fully willing to keep razing this rathole of yours until I get what I want.”

  “After all this, you want to talk?” Pirta sounded incredulous.

  “Yes. Or I could collapse that building you’re in beneath your feet. The choice is yours.”

  There was a pause before Pirta said, “Fine. Remove the damn stones blocking my door and give me a moment to dress. I’m coming down.”

  “Let me down,” Rayni said. Once Messy did, she added, “I didn’t like the captain’s tone at all.”

  “Me neither,” Messy agreed. “Even odds she’s furious enough to do something suicidal.”

  “Suicidally heroic,” Rayni muttered. “We need to help her. Get more people here, get through those walls, somehow. Militia, and Earth-mages. They’d be wherever the invaders hit, trying to help.”

  “They destroyed the northern gate first,” Messy said. “Then they hit two places to duskward as I was headed for Touanne’s. I’d bet anything one was the duskward gate. Don’t know about the other, but I imagine most people will be gathered around those three places, if they’re not moving toward the square already. There must be runners coming for Touanne. We should—”

  “There are only two real standouts in the duskward half of the outpost,” Rayni said as they quickly moved back toward the gate to First Duskward Street. “One’s the gate. The other’s the bathhouse.”

  Messy had to clench her jaw tightly shut to stop the flood of curses that threatened to spill out at that suggestion. One that was unfortunately proven true once they’d circled the outside of the training yard and reached Cross Street via Second Duskward. Hundreds of feet from the bathhouse a layer of dust lay on the cobbles, thick enough to show tracks. More hung in the air, irritating their airways as they ran. And if this evidence somehow hadn’t been enough to prove that it was one of the few stone buildings in the outpost that had fallen, the sounds of voices calling urgently and the coughs of a multitude of people from up ahead would have.

  Messy’s heart almost shattered at what she saw. The bathhouse was a ruin. More than half of it had collapsed, mostly inward but enough spilling into the street to hinder passage. To make things more difficult, water from the baths had spilled into the street and combined with the thick dust to make a slick mud that shifted and threatened to make anyone walking in it slip if they weren’t careful. But it wasn’t there that most of the people were working; there was only one or two people there at night, after all. Where most people were shifting rubble was across the street, where two residential buildings had fallen, partially consumed by the earth. She could only pray that Deni’s parents, whose shop and home lay just behind the great building, were unharmed.

  Captain Falk was easy to find. He was in the midst of things, digging with his bare hands, but all Messy and Rayni had to do was to follow his loud, distinctive voice as he directed the other rescue workers.

  “Captain!” Messy called out as soon as she saw him. “Captain Falk!”

  “Hrrm?!” The captain looked up, spotting her. “Ah, Miss Mestendi! And Miss Rayni! Say, you were watching Mistress Touanne, weren’t you? Where is she? It wasn’t long since we sent a boy for her but—”

  “She’s not with us, but—” Messy began.

  “Not with you?! But you know where she is? We’ve got injured here, and—”

  “Captain, listen! The Earthbreaker is at the square! At the Waystone!”

  That made him stop and take notice. “Truly? You’ve seen them?”

  “Rayni has,” Messy said.

  “I have, Captain,” Rayni confirmed. “They were trying to escape. Karti was trying to open the way for them, but it’s not working.”

  “I should say not!” Falk barked. “Mistress Thair did not do all her hard work for nothing!”

  “Right. But, Captain, Captain Pirta is there. At Administration. The Earthbreaker wants to negotiate for safe passage or something, and she said she was going to come out. She sounded… She argued with Karti about the Sentinel and threw something at him. I hope not, but I think she might do something reckless.”

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  “Oh, hells,” Falk muttered. “She’s been doing so well these past few years.” He looked toward a themion man Messy didn’t recognize, calling out, “Mister Yunis, take over here! Anyone who brought a weapon, come with me!” Then he turned to the two women. “Did you know where Mistress Touanne is? We really do need her.”

  “We do,” Messy said, raising her voice to be heard over the din that only increased after the captain’s order. “But, Captain! The square is sealed off with stone walls. We’ll need to break through.”

  “Is it?” Falk looked at the masses of rubble that had been the outpost’s most beloved institution. With a pained look he shouted, “Any Earth-mages here, you’re with me as well. For a moment only; then you can get back to your important work here. Hop to it!”

  As a dozen people gathered in the street. Ten of them were armed, and Petra was among them. Two of them were not. All of them were covered in sweat and dust. While they crowded in, Falk told the two women, “Miss Mestendi, please go and fetch Mistress Touanne.”

  “She’s hidden in a courtyard, with two patients on stretchers,” Messy objected. “She won’t leave them.”

  “Hmm, no. She wouldn’t. Is anyone with her?”

  “Jisha. The Stolen girl.”

  “Just the two of them?”

  “Right.”

  “In that case, take…” Falk looked around, his eyes landing on a dust-covered man whose label marked him as a Cobbler. “Please take Mister Merv over there to help you carry the stretchers, then bring Mistress Tuanne here. There are people who desperately need her help.” His eyes then landed on a Tailor Messy recognized, who was hauling debris away from one of the collapsed houses. “Miss Lanpellia!”

  “Yes, Captain?” the woman said, dropping the stone she was carrying on a dumping pile.

  “If you would, run to the Duskward gate and gather my wife and anyone there who’s armed, then bring them to the square. As fast as you can!”

  “Yes, Captain!” Lanpellia said, taking off through the mud and rubble with quick, careful steps.

  Finally Falk turned to Messy and the people he’d gathered in the street. “Everyone, if you would, leave your Parties if you have one and accept my invitation. Ah, very good. Now, then. Let’s move!”

  “Be careful,” Messy said, taking Rayni by the arms then deciding, to hell with it, and turning that into a quick hug. “I’ll join you as fast as I can. Petra, you too,” she said, turning to the innkeeper. “Don’t you dare get hurt!”

  “With any luck, there won’t be any fighting,” the innkeeper said, smiling wryly.

  Rayni scoffed. “So, yeah. With our luck lately, you should hurry up.”

  As Falk and his group moved down Cross Street toward the square, Messy quickly grabbed Merv the Cobbler, who’d been waiting attentively since Falk first said his name. Messy was vaguely familiar with the man; Ana got her boots from him, both her first pair, which she’d lost in the forest, and the ones she’d used since.

  It soon turned out that Merv hadn’t been needed after all. On their way down Second Duskward they met Mikkel, Petra’s assistant from the inn, who’d been sent to fetch the Healer and was now returning for someone to help move the stretchers. Together the three collected Touanne and Jisha; the Healer didn’t need any convincing once Messy told her that she was needed, seeing as they could now easily take the patients with them.

  It did save some time, though, in that it let Messy detach from the group as soon as they hit Cross Street, after extracting a promise from Jisha that she’d stay by Touanne’s side. By then Marra Falk and a half dozen others, all armed, had joined Captain Falk’s group, who were still waiting at the intact barrier. Sans the Captain. Which handily explained why Marra looked like she was about to commit bloody murder, and why she spied Rayni huddled at the back of the pack, Petra solidly in front of her. The Huntress’s version of Danger Sense went off of potential and not actual threat, and she didn’t like confrontation. Especially not with someone like Marra Falk. The woman might have been somewhat short and round, with her long red hair up in a big, loose high bun and wearing a nightshift under her armor, but everyone there knew that the woman was fully capable of killing Rayni with her bare hands.

  “How in all the hells could you think it was a good idea to send him over alone?” Marra hissed furiously at the hapless men and women before her. “Don’t you have the sense of one grown adult between the lot of you?”

  “He ordered—” one of the mages started, but Marra was having none of it.

  “Oh, he ordered you to, did he?” Messy thought that Marra probably didn’t mean to threaten the mage with the mace she held in one hand, but the way she waved it could easily be interpreted that way. “And I suppose that means you should just stop using whatever mind the gods saw fit to saddle you with and let an aging man with a savior complex—”

  “Mistress Falk, please!” Rayni said, low enough to qualify as a whisper but enough to be heard over Marra’s building tirade. “I’m trying to hear what they’re saying!”

  That was promising. As long as people were talking, no one was fighting. And with only the two captains in there, that was for the best. They were facing off against a Level 37 Earth-mage with a Heroic Tier Class and his five minions who, if they were the same mages who’d attacked the stockade, were all supposedly in the 20s or low 30s. Messy didn’t care what kind of combat Class and Levels Pirta had hiding behind her Guild Administrator label; the captains weren’t winning that fight on their own.

  Now they just had to avoid coming to blows among themselves, which, considering that there was practically steam coming off Marra Falk, seemed more likely with every passing moment.

  Messy was no diplomat, but she did have a Charisma over 25 and solid Levels in Charm and Negotiation. “Mistress Falk!” she said, keeping her voice low and pitching it in a way that she knew would draw almost anyone’s attention. The moment Marra glanced over her shoulder, Messy continued with, “What’s the plan if negotiations fail?”

  “Negotiations?” Marra scoffed. “From what I’ve been told, Captain Pirta’s poised to fly into a rage at any moment. I was trying to get these two,” she waved dismissively at the two mages, “to tear down the barrier, like they should’ve already been doing, when they told me that not only had Tober forbidden them from doing just that, but ordered them to help him over and into the square!”

  “And how long ago was that?” Messy asked.

  “A minute at most,” the mage Marra had been raging at said. “He said that they needed both captains there for any agreement to be binding, and he ordered us not to interfere unless talks failed. And what were we supposed to do? He’s a guild captain! He could have us sanctioned if we go against his orders!”

  The others began muttering their agreement, earning a withering look from Marra.

  “Please,” Messy said, holding her hand up to forestall any further argument. “A minute is a good sign, isn’t it? Nobody’s yelling loud enough for us to hear them, so tempers must not be running too hot. You two,” she said, indicating the mages. “Tesvi and… Lavret? Is that right?”

  “Right,” the female mage, Tesvi, replied. “And you’re Mestendi, yeah? The flying girl?”

  “I’m Anastasia’s partner, if that’s what you mean, yes,” Messy said, glad that the darkness hid her blush. She and Ana usually went for at least one or two flights every day, and it was hard not to whoop and cheer sometimes. She was getting to be as well known as Ana. “You two, please prepare to break through that barrier at a moment’s notice. Blame me and Mistress Falk if you must; I’m sure the captain will understand. For now, let’s see what Rayni can hear, shall we? We might not need to intervene at all.”

  Marra didn’t like that they weren’t going in immediately, but she agreed that forcing their way in now might turn a peaceful situation ugly. The mages didn’t like to even prepare to go against the captain’s orders, but recognized that doing so and potentially saving his life was better than the alternative. And so no one was happy, but everyone settled down without further argument.

  “Thank you,” Rayni murmured as Messy crouched beside her. The Huntress had found a paper-thin gap between two of the stone spikes that made up the barrier, and was alternating between listening and trying to see through it. “Wish we could do the thing with you holding me up again,” she said, glancing up at the twenty feet of sheer stone. “This gap is worthless.”

  “How’d you get Falk over?” Messy asked.

  “Two of the guys there have some serious Strength. They pretty much just launched him over. He landed real nice on the other side, too.”

  “Huh. Didn’t take him for a high Agility kind of man.”

  Rayni shrugged. “I can only tell you what I saw and heard.”

  “So what’s going on? What’re they saying?”

  “Well… I wouldn’t call it a negotiation,” Rayni said. “More like an argument that never quite crosses the line. Mostly it’s Captain Pirta cursing at them. She did make a good point a moment ago about how, since we can’t send them back to the Primes, how can we trust them to just sit peacefully until the cycle ends, but her solution seems to be — I mean, she hasn’t said it outright, but it sounds like she wants to just fight it out, like we feared.”

  The hairs on the back of Messy’s neck stood on end. “She’s that… goddess, I don’t want to call her unstable, but really, what else can we call it? Is Captain Pirta really that close to provoking an unwinnable fight?”

  Rayni nodded solemnly. “Captain Falk said she hasn’t been sleeping. Honestly, I think it’s a good thing we sent him in. He’s not contributing much, but him reining Captain Pirta in might be the only reason things haven’t gotten violent. He’s doing a good job of it, too. As long as nothing changes, I think there’s a chance they’ll work something out.”

  Which was, of course, when there was a scream from the square, followed by several seconds of shouting and then the earsplitting noise of tearing earth and tumbling stone as everything went to hell.

  and read 8 chapters ahead of both Splinter Angel and Draka! You also get to read anything else I’m trying out — which is how Splinter Angel got started.

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