Stop looking at him.

Clergy pulled his eyes away from Alvon again. It seemed like he hadn't noticed Clergy's stares for now but who knew how long that would last. If it was even true.

Nerves forced Clergy's gaze up to him again. He quickly dragged it back down.

Just look at something else.

The wide streets began to narrow further away from the Hall. The paved stone fell in patches to dirt and loose shrubs. The rows of shops turned to groups of small homes. Abel sat alone at the front of the wagon, steering it through the midday crowd, as the horse hooves and wooden wheels clopped against the stone road.

There was a chill in the air.

It made their dark cloaks seem far less suspicious, but the mountain breeze was still bracing on Clergy's fresh wounds. Everyone besides Abel was in the back of the wagon, scattered amongst the crates of food.

Nitara was closest to the rear, sitting quietly on top of a crate, with her hood up, her fingers laced, and her arms resting on her legs. The dark ends of her hair caught in the wind like smoke, and when he caught her gaze he could see the fire in it, relentless and ready.

Micah, carefree as always, was sitting next to Clergy, leaning back against the wagon's edge. He had his arms spread wide and his hair draped down the side, looking up at the clouds as they flowed toward the mountain and broke against its peak. His eyes were glazed over. At first, Clergy just assumed he was relaxing, but every once in a while his expression would harden, and his eyes turned dark, as if some grim realities had finally caught up to him.

He wasn't the only one.

Clergy grabbed his hand as it started to shake. What was he supposed to do about Alvon? What could he do about Alvon? He tightened his grip. Shit! How could he still not have a plan? What was the point of lying awake all night freaking out if he couldn't at least think of a plan? How stupid was that? No, he thought, you do have a plan. Get in, get out, and don't wander off. He tried to let it go. Don't wander off... Clergy jumped as the wagon hit a hole in the road. He held back a pained laugh. I'm like a kid. A lost kid who's out of his depth. There's no way I survive. No way I make it out. I— He forced out a breath. Stop it! You know worrying isn't helping just think of something else. Right, of course, "just think of something else." Anything besides the soulless tree-sized monster sitting in front of him. Alvon didn't even look fazed considering he was going to kill him today.

His large frame was resting on the bench in front of Clergy. With his folded arms, closed eyes, and back leaning against the wagon he almost seemed like a peaceful man. Alvon! Peaceful! How's that even possible? How could he just sit there like there was nothing—

You're looking at him again.

Clergy pulled his head back down. Shit! Shit! This was a mistake. He shouldn't have come here. He plowed his fingers through his hair. No. This wasn't a mistake, he just didn't have a choice. He'd be dead if he'd stayed with Stella.

And I'm still dead if I stay here!

Shit! Shit! He needed to calm down. He needed to stop staring. Just get in and get out. Get in and get out. Get in— He had to hold back a scream as the wagon shook again.

He put his heart back in his chest. The moment got him to stop staring at Alvon, but now he was looking at Ezra. He'd been so quiet Clergy had almost forgotten about him. He was sitting in front of Micah, leaning forward while the wind caught his hair. He was staring down at a wooden mask in his hands. It was a lot like Nitara's, white with hand-carved features, but instead of a ram it was a lamb's face.

Clergy still couldn't figure Ezra out. So far, everyone else had seemed pretty straightforward. Nitara basically wanted him dead, Alvon really did, and the rest were at least willing to keep him around, but Ezra was different. Nothing he'd done had screamed "I hope you die today," but he wasn't really trying to help him out either, and today didn't feel any different. Honestly, it felt a little worse.

Maybe you're being too harsh, Clergy thought to himself, he might lighten up if you talk to him. Of course, there wasn't really anything to talk with him about. Well, nothing except—

"Where's your bow Ezra?" Clergy asked, suddenly realizing he'd said that out loud.

Ezra looked up and stared at him for a moment.

Ok, Clergy thought, maybe I shouldn't have asked—

"I can't have it with me," Ezra said suddenly.

Wait what? Clergy thought. "But don't you need it?"

Ezra shook his head. "After today they'll be hunting down archers for weeks. I don't want anyone to remember seeing me with a bow before we start."

"Ok so—"

"I hid it last night," Ezra said, and not a word more. His eyes drifted back to his mask, leaving Clergy alone in the conversation.

Well, Clergy thought to himself. I'm glad that worked out. Mood feels lighter already—

"Why're you doing this?" It was Ezra. When had he stopped looking at his mask?

Clergy's mind went blank. What was he supposed to say? Something, he thought. You have to say something. "Well," he said, "there's a chance being here could bring back some of my memories. Then I might be able to—"

"That's not why."

What? That doesn't even make sense. "You don't think I—"

"You yelled at Stella."

Shit. Now Clergy understood. He heard us last night. "Listen," Clergy said, his palms starting to sweat. "That wasn't what—"

Ezra's eyes stayed firm. "You yelled at Stella."

There was nothing Clergy could say, nothing to stop that fervent glare, and so the silence lingered. Tension caged in the chatter of street folk and wagons clattering nearby.

"Where's Dekar?" Nitara asked, looking over toward Abel. "He should be here by now."

"He'll be here," Abel said. "He knows to meet us before the Gate." Up ahead some people cut in front of the wagon's path. Abel called for the horse to slow as the group strode past. He turned his head toward the others. "That means your stop is coming up Ezra if you want to dodge the entrance crowd. You should get ready."

Too bad he's still glaring at me, Clergy thought, though actually now he wasn't. He was just staring at that mask again. Clergy felt a shiver race down his spine. Somehow the air seemed colder as he watched Ezra move. The way his fingers stroked the wood and his eyes glazed over almost felt... hollow; like there was barely a person behind them anymore. Everything he did just felt like habit.

It felt sad.

"Hey!" Micah said, leaning forward as he kicked his brother's shin.

Ezra perked up, and the air suddenly felt just a bit warmer as the color returned to his eyes.

"Don't start spacing out on me," Micah said with a grin. "If you die Stella will be on my ass for weeks."

Ezra smiled, and for a moment Clergy could see how young he truly was. "You say that like you don't do something dumb every day." He tucked his mask back into his cloak. "She'll be on your case again by tomorrow."

Micah grabbed his chest. "Oof, come on. That hurts man."

Ezra rolled his eyes. "Fine, then how about this. I won't die if you don't."

"That's a promise."

They smiled and locked arms before Ezra hopped off the side of the wagon, ducked down a nearby alley, and disappeared around the bend.

After that, the wagon pushed on, and Clergy sat in silence the whole way. They past a stand selling stew from a large wooden bowl that eased the scent of hot spices and meats up his nose. The vendor was a slender man in plain linen clothes with dark skin and eyes. His kinky hair tied back in braids that hugged the curve of his head.

A small crowd lingered in front of his stand. There were a few people there with bowls and hungry eyes, but a lot of them it seemed were just there for conversation, chatting or calling out to passersby that they knew. Abel slowed as a group of kids with brown skin and big smiles dashed across the street in front of them. On a few of their wrists were earth-toned bracelets glistening in the sunlight. The kids ran over toward the vendor, who was filling a fresh bowl, and Clergy saw he was wearing the same kind of bracelets as the kids with two studded earrings to match.

Clergy stared at the scene as they passed it. He hadn't realized how diverse the city was until now. Near the Hall everyone had been pretty monotone, but the further they went the less true that became.

It was more than just complexion though there was... a whole other culture here, blooming just outside the Hall's decadence. It reminded him of the breadth of his ignorance. That there were questions he didn't even know to ask. Yet buried somewhere in his mind was a secret someone was willing to kill him over. He glanced over at Alvon and shuddered. Guess he'll have to get in line now. Clergy put the thought behind him though, as the wagon rounded one last corner and he saw it. The wall.

From a distance it had just been a shadow. A lone sentry set along the horizon, but up close the myth came to life, and Clergy could see its age. Its stones were bleached and worn from abuse. Cracks loomed like the start of grey hairs. It towered along the edge of a wide plaza, caging in the crowd of dozens milling around in its shadow. Small groups were scattered around the open space, but most had been corralled in a line before a large archway in the wall. There were guards posted along the line, near the entrance, and in the crumbling ramparts above.

The wagon rode past the last of the buildings. They entered the plaza.

"Still no sign of him?" Micah asked.

Abel groaned. "He'll be—" Then he paused. "And there he is, see? Just gotta have a little faith. Kid always pulls through."

Clergy looked ahead and saw a young man eating an apple and heading towards them. His figure blended well with the scene around them. Average height. Dark skin. Short kinky hair. He wore a white linen shirt and brown pants with a leather vest and well-worn boots. He gave an easy smile to their horse as he came close, taking a final bite of his apple before feeding it the rest while he stroked its dark brown mane.

From here Clergy could get a better look at his face. He was clean shaven with brown eyes, full lips, and a broad nose. He was younger than Clergy thought he'd be, maybe just a little older than Micah.

He seems nice at least, Clergy thought to himself. He knew better than to rely on assumptions though. Better to let this play out.

"Cutting it close today, aren't you?" Abel asked.

"Yeah, sorry, had to double check something first," Dekar said, before he cooed at their horse.

Abel gave him a troubled look. "And?"

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Dekar met his gaze as his smile faded. "We've got a problem." He patted the horse a final time before hopping into the passenger seat.

Abel urged them forward. "So what's wrong? I know this was short notice—"

"Yeah," Dekar said. "It was." For a moment no one spoke. There was only Dekar's glare, sharpening the silence, until it was gone, just like that, and he eased back into his nonchalance. "But taking Gad out is good for everybody, and Saadya can do a lot in a few calls. We have people in the crowd and we're ready."

Abel raised a brow. "Then what is it?"

"Well to start," Dekar said. Then he looked back at Clergy. "Why's there a new face?"

Just be cool, Clergy thought, while he tried not to squirm. He set his face and looked up. "Hi I'm—"

"Saadya doesn't know anything about him," Dekar said.

Clergy sighed. —being ignored.

"We just brought him on," Abel said.

Dekar turned back and met Abel's eyes.

"And Saadya doesn't know anything about him."

Both of them sat there for a moment. Glaring.

"Are we turning around?" Nitara asked, looking over at Dekar.

He eyed Clergy for a moment, then Abel. He took a breath. "No."

"Then can we focus on the actual problem?"

"This line's too long," Alvon said suddenly.

Everyone stopped and eyed the crowd. Judging by their faces Clergy could tell they knew Alvon was right, but the only thing Clergy could see was how different they were from them.

Everyone save for Dekar had cloaks and clean clothes, but the people here seemed worn by comparison, dressed in plain linen gaining stains and tears. They'd come with crates of food on a wagon but everyone else was on their feet, carrying nap sacks or packs of tools. Even looking around the plaza Clergy only spotted a few more wagons. None of them were cutting the line though, and it was a long line. Clergy didn't know what it usually looked like, but at the rate it was moving it would've taken most of the day to get to the front; and the crowd was clearly not happy about it.

Micah started to stand, eyeing the front of the line. His face was grim. "They're doing searches," he said, "and it looks like they're detaining people too."

"Yeah," Dekar said. "Apparently Gad didn't like half the guard being sent away to watch some party." He looked ahead, straining for a moment before turning back to Micah. "You've got good eyes," he said.

Micah stood hunched and frozen, not even meeting Dekar's gaze. "Runs in the family," he said, still staring ahead.

"But this doesn't make sense," Abel said, as he stroked his beard with one hand.

Dekar turned back toward him. "Why? Is Daniel the only one clever enough to use a threat to his advantage?"

Abel gave him a look. "It's not about Gad using the threat it's about his response to it. Searches are hardly the best way to handle rogue arsonists. What's he hoping to find?"

"Doesn't matter," Dekar said, "The searches are only half the problem anyway."

"Abel!" Micah cut in. "Look at the guards at the gate. Their uniforms."

Clergy turned to get a closer look for himself. Most of them seemed normal but with three he noticed the difference at once. Their dark leather armor was rugged and worn. Each piece was fitted with metal plates that were deeply charred yet almost reflective; like shadows were swirling beneath the ash. They had swords like normal guards, but on their other hips was an axe with dark leather on the handle. Their arms were only covered by a bracer and shoulder pads, and the skin showing in between them was adorned with tattoos.

"They aren't from the city," Abel said. "They're from the plains. They're Warriors."

I guess that's bad, Clergy thought to himself. Be nice to know how bad but—

Micah tapped his shoulder. "Warriors are veterans, but they act more like mercenaries than guards. The military uses them when it wants something done and doesn't care about collateral damage." He furrowed his brow. "It's... rare to see them in the city though." He started to frown.

"It's not just rare," Abel said. "After Nachman's fiasco last year Gad hasn't used them once, and he decides to use them now? For this? Not to mention he didn't lock down the Hall or the Church. He couldn't have. It would've taken twice as long to get here. He paused as he placed his hand on his chin. "He just shored up the wall." He paused again. "He knew we were coming."

The group's eyes sunk as Abel's words fell into silence.

"It doesn't have to be that bad," Micah said quickly. "The ledger's important and everyone says he's been getting paranoid. He could just want to protect it."

"But he should be responding to an arsonist threat," Abel said, turning toward Micah as he brought his hand back to the reins. "The last thing that would need extra protection is some grass and a guarded stone wall."

Grass? Clergy thought, then he looked around the plaza. Where does he see grass?

"No..." Abel said, shaking his head. "No, there're a dozen better places to pick, and after last year bringing in Warriors is a huge risk. Gad wouldn't do that unless he knew he was under threat."

"Even if he knows there's a threat, he shouldn't know it's us," Nitara said. "Daniel came up with this yesterday, how would he even find out?"

"Maybe Saadya has a leak," Alvon said.

Dekar met his eyes. "If she did," he said, "you all would've died weeks ago."

Alvon looked him over once but said nothing.

"So..." Micah jumped in, "maybe he doesn't know we're coming?"

Nitara turned toward him. "Then who's he expecting?"

"Either way," Dekar said, "you see the problem." He looked toward Abel then back to the rest of the group. "So, what do you wanna do? We can still call this off."

"No," Alvon said. "We can't."

Nitara sucked her teeth. "He's right. Normal foot traffic doesn't get anywhere near the restricted areas, and there's normally twice as many guards."

Micah nodded and groaned. "And if he knows the ledger's in danger now, he'll just move it or increase its security as soon as Daniel's fake threat is handled. He'll never expose himself like this again."

"And the search?" Dekar asked. "They're gonna go through every crate."

"They might," Abel said. "I haven't seen another priority go through yet. And this is their meat and wine. They might just hurry us through."

"And if they don't?"

"Then they find our weapons and detain us," Abel said. "Your people make their move, and we use that plus Ezra's distraction to break free and find the ledger."

Dekar raised a brow. "You start the fight in handcuffs you really think everyone's gonna make it out alright?"

Alvon glanced over at Clergy. "I doubt it."

Clergy's insides twisted and squirmed. What am I supposed to say to that? He thought to himself. Then he looked over at Abel. What's he gonna say to that?

"Well," Abel said after a moment. Then he paused again. "We'll figure out what to do if it comes to that." Then he glanced over at Clergy, but shied away from meeting his gaze. "Let's just hope it doesn't."

That wasn't great—

Micah tapped Clergy's shoulder. "Maybe you should get off here," he said softly. "This is already way more than you bargained for."

"He can't leave now," Alvon said. "We're too close to the front. If the guards saw him leave they'd detain him and us." Glances over at Clergy. "He wanted to come. Now he's here."

Clergy thought another threat might've made him heave... but it didn't. Maybe it was because he was already afraid, but this time Alvon didn't scare him. In fact— He's right, Clergy thought to himself. I'm here. I'm here because I wanted to live, and I'm not dying here.

"That was before Al," Micah said, "things have obviously changed. We can't—"

"It's ok," Clergy said, grabbing Micah's arm. He met Alvon's eyes. "I'll stay." Running was just delaying. His only real way out was to find answers, and this might be his last chance to get them. He couldn't back down now.

For a moment Alvon did nothing. He just... stared, until he finally grunted and looked away.

Clergy felt his nerve dissolve as he let go of Micah and went back to staring into his lap. Was his hand shaking the whole time? Shit!

Micah looked him over for a moment. Then he nodded. "Ok," he said. "If that's what you wanna do."

Clergy looked over long enough to return the gesture then went back to staring into his lap.

Satisfied, Micah got up and started to make his way to the front. "Abel we should—"

"No."

"You don't even—"

"No."

"Abel!"

"You're going to ask if you can help talk our way past the gate," Abel said, "and the answer is no."

"Why not!" Micah said. "The father-son routine hasn't failed yet."

"On guards and drunks."

"And what? Warriors don't drink?"

Abel sighed. "This is the problem; you don't understand how they think."

"They're people Abel. I understand people."

"No," he said. "They're not." His eyes were firm. "If you go up to them with some bullshit charade they'll know, and they'll rip the ponytail right off your head." He took a breath. "Just... let me do the talking, and if it comes down to it... be ready to follow my lead." He looked toward the rest of the group. "That goes for everyone. Let's try not to mess this up." For a moment he eyed Clergy again and couldn't hide the concern in his eyes. "For all our sakes."

The wagon arrived at the gate. The three warriors started to approach. One stepped in front to stop the wagon, while the other two came around the sides. Bells started to toll in the distance.

It was 12th call.

"Show me your pass," one of the warriors in front said.

Guess he's in charge, Clergy thought to himself. From here, Clergy could get a better look at him. He had a hard, grizzled look with an air of such violence that Clergy knew everything Micah had said was true. The dark brown of his hair was still prominent amongst the grays in the stubble of his beard and in his short unkempt hair. His pale blue eyes offset the dark lines of his tattoos, and while he had a lot of them along his arms one on his shoulder caught Clergy's eye. It was a bird's skull in front of a dark sun, surrounded by a snake chasing its tail.

Just like Abel's.

Abel smiled and nodded at the man. "Of course." He took a hand off the reins and reached into his cloak, pulling out what looked like a large silver coin. He handed it to the man. "Here you are."

The warrior took the coin and flipped it around in his hand. "Priority shipment," he said, "haven't had one of those all day." He turned toward the other warriors. "Search em', take a couple bottles, then push em' through." He started to walk away.

"Sir, if—"

The warrior turned. "Is that a problem?" The men behind him stopped and dropped a hand to their hilts.

"No, no problem," Abel said, "It's just... well we're a priority shipment. We're already cleared to go through and—"

"And if you weren't a priority, I would've taken five bottles then sent you back in line so I could take five more."

"Take six," Abel said, "You all seem like capable men, and we're more than happy to show our support."

The warrior scoffed and crossed his arms.

"Look, we just need this shipment to get through alright? We were supposed to be unloading by 12th call, and we've got a long day ahead. If we don't start catching up we'll be out here all night. Please, just take the bottles and let us go through. Then we'll be out of your—"

The warrior raised his hand. "Yesterday," he said, "priority meant you could go right through. Today, it means you can cut the line, and six bottles means we'll make the search quick." He leaned in close. "But everyone gets searched. No exceptions." He motioned to the his other men. "Help em' down. Let's get this done."

Clergy's knees nearly buckled as he started to stand. Sweat stained his back, nerves swam through his insides, but it didn't matter. This was happening.

Everyone stood as the other warriors came around to the back of the wagon. One offered a hand to Nitara, but she ignored it, stepped down, and walked off to the side. Both men took a step back as Alvon lumbered off next, keeping a hand close to their hilts as he followed behind her.

"Stay close and keep your head down," Micah whispered to Clergy as he headed for the back.

Don't have to tell me twice, Clergy thought to himself. He kept his eyes on Micah's back as he stepped down and quickly followed behind him. Soon they were lined up beside the others, and Clergy dared to peak ahead at the scene.

Dekar was making his way over next, seemingly unfazed by the whole thing.

Wish I had some of that right now.

Abel was the last to move. He looked back at the others before letting out a bitter sigh, as he hopped off the wagon and started walking toward the others. "That's what we get for trusting the fucking help," he said.

Dekar stopped. He turned and studied Abel for a moment. "The fuck did you just say?"

"You heard me," Abel said, still striding over until he was just a couple steps from Dekar. "I told you not to take this shipment, but you swore you had connections. That you could get us in and out of Avram's office in no time." He took another step toward him. "What a fucking joke."

Clergy did his best to keep a straight face. They're lying.

"It's not my fault you plains boys can't sign some papers on your own," Dekar said. "You let that clerk walk all over you." He stepped closer too. "He might as well have skipped the foreplay and just ordered you to bend over. I know the army taught you to do that quick."

Abel grabbed Dekar's collar, revealing his tattoo as his sleeve slipped down. That caught the lead Warrior's eye. "You watch your mouth boy—"

Dekar smacked his arm away. "I'm not your fucking boy."

Abel got right back in his face. "Keep talking and you'll be my bitch."

Dekar shoved Abel back, and in an instant Abel stepped forward and punched Dekar in the face. "Put your hands on me again!" Abel said, walking up for another strike.

The crowd erupted at the fight. Guards near the front struggled to hold back the masses, as they abandoned their places and swarmed around the gate.

"I need more men at the front!" The head warrior shouted striding toward the fight. "Eivor, take the line! Keep these people back! Sigurd take the older one! Archers!"

The guards moved fast. One of the warriors raced over to join the line, barking orders as she did. Soon men from around the plaza had formed a line, two dozen strong, shoving people back as archers in the ramparts took aim on the crowd below.

The sight of taunt arrows seemed to quell the crowds anger, if only for a moment, giving the guards time to rally.

The other warrior had raced over to Abel and held him back, while the head warrior took Dekar and shoved him toward line. He pointed at the Hall.

"Just walk away."

The crowd stirred as Dekar stumbled back, but he raised a hand toward them as he shook his head. He straightened himself then turned back to the gate, anger brewing in his eyes.

"Go ahead," the warrior said. "Make your last mistake." His hand dropped to his sword.

Dekar stopped, glaring as blood dripped down his mouth. He turned and walked away.

"And don't let me see you here again today... boy."

Dekar paused for a moment then tightened his fists and kept walking toward the line of guards, who shoved him again back into the crowd.

"You can let go now, I'm fine," Abel said, doing his best to raise his hands up. "Bastard got my blood boiling but I'm fine."

The man holding him slowly loosened his grip. "Then go stand with the others."

"Wait," the lead warrior said, then he motioned toward the wagon. "Go tell me what's in that first crate."

The warrior who'd held Abel walked up to the end of the wagon, drew his sword, and pried open the crate closest to the rear. "It's just apples, sir."

The head warrior said nothing, turned to look at Abel, then back toward the other warrior again. "Let them pass," he said. "I've seen all I need to see."

Clergy and everyone else started heading back toward the wagon, as the guards corralled the loose mob back into a line. As Abel approached, the warrior stepped over and handed him back his coin. "The storeroom is down this path, past the main building, and just before the east archives," he said. "The men there will help you get unloaded and on your way."

Abel tucked the coin away. "Appreciate your help."

The warrior nodded and put a hand on Abel's shoulder. "Warriors have to stick together."

It took Abel a moment to nod back before he hopped into his seat and grabbed the reins. He egged the horse forward.