“Impellia III,” Erak Yawat said, “It's a small planet, hardly inhabitable, on the very edge of the galactic north.”

They were in one of the conference rooms aboard the Sovereign Melody. Kathen was sitting beside Rhunea. Dicaeopolis sat on the other side, along with Bluebell the Dragonfolk, who was tapping a claw against the table. Guildmaster Valm sat at the table's end, long fingers steepled together. At the Voskian's side was Old Scar. His weapons mentor’s arms were crossed, his hairless brow furrowed, for he did not like Erak Yawat.

We should speak of Erak Yawat. A human, like Kathen. He was from the plane of Korat Hung, though his birthplace had been almost destroyed by the Manticore during the war. The humans of Korat Hung had six fingers to a hand, and they pointed with three, as Erak Yawat was doing now. He was thin, almost skeletal. He had an accent, though Kathen had never been able to figure out what it reminded him of. Erak Yawat applied markings to himself every morning, different for each day of the month. Today was a line on the forehead, two dots just below the eyes, a rippling cross on his bald head.

He was one of the guild's Forecasters. An important position for any guild, even one that stuck to the Silver Eye. It was his responsibility to map out the multiverse, as much as he was able. To see which planes were in forecast and which were not. Several implants were inserted into his brain, to help with memory, to aid in the complex calculations, that attempt to emulate the language of reality. With them, he was able to know the location of most of the Traveling Points in the Silver Eye.

“I went over a few old records with Truthspeaker,” Erak Yawat continued, “Impellia III was given to a group of colonists circa three thousand years ago. The colonists were religious isolationists, a branch of the Way of the First Men.”

“Already a heretical denomination,” Valm said.

“Indeed,” Erak Yawat said, “I defer that matter to you, guildmaster.”

Valm nodded.

“The Way of the First Men went extinct long ago,” he said, “They were a strain of belief that the First Men were an evolutionary conglomerate of several different species that ascended as one. That, through the Way, one could ascend as they did.”

He was quiet for a moment, took the opportunity to drink from a glass of water at his side.

“Tell me,” the guildmaster said, “Did this off-branch settle the planet?”

“No, they did not,” Erak Yawat said, “The planet was discovered to contain a Traveling Point, and citing Federation law, the colonial charter was revoked, and the planet itself was nationalized.”

“So it should be in our records, then,” Rhunea said, “If a planet belongs to the Federation government, then there should be a survey of the planet itself on a Library World. I would guess Sacred Recording.”

“I checked,” Erak Yawat said, “But there is nothing.”

The doe-headed woman winced.

“Two thousand years ago,” Valm said.

“That would have been during the Navigator's Rebellion,” Old Scar said.

“Ah, yes,” Valm said, “One of my ancestors fought in that war. They made for busy times. Busy enough for a small backwater world to be forgotten about. Tell me, Erak Yawat, what plane is in forecast there?”

“We… do not know,” Erak Yawat said, and his eyes flashed green, “Based on local Paradigms, however, it would be close to Bloodrun.”

“So it’s an unknown plane,” Valm said.

“Perfect place for an ambush,” Old Scar said, “Set up shop there. Tell people it's a paradise. Militarize them, then strike at the Silver Eye from an unknown point.”

Valm nodded.

Then turned to Kathen.

“What are your thoughts, Mr. Aru?” he asked.

Kathen blinked.

“It was your AI's algorithms that helped detect Impellia III,” Valm said, “A planet on the very edge of the galaxy, in the old lands of the Kolares peoples. Surely, you agree with her.”

The young man thought for a moment. All eyes were on him, which made him feel uncomfortable. But it was true. Merry had spoken with him about it. He pressed a finger on a datapad, bringing up a map in the table's center, an image of local space.

“Here's Impellia III,” Kathen said.

He dotted where the planet was. Then zoomed out, showing the greater portions of the Outer Reach.

“Here's the local warp charts in the region,” Kathen said.

He began drawing a line. Starships often followed specific paths across the galaxy, predetermined destinations that made travel across the galaxy safe and easy. Impellia III was far away from most of the usual lanes of commerce.

“Here's a comparison,” Kathen said, “Of the warp lanes that the Kolares were known to use.”

“You came prepared,” Rhunea said, smiling.

“Merry did most of the work,” Kathen said, reddening, and he pressed another key, showing the warp lanes that the Kolares used in their golden age. Much of it was confined to the Kolares sphere of influence.

But there was some overlap.

“Here,” Valm said, pointing, “That's an easy route to take, it overlaps at Ozadi. Goes all the way down to Galandos Secundus-”

“-A gate goes both ways,” Old Scar muttered.

“-All the way to the Iris itself,” Valm said.

There was a pause as the members in the conference room absorbed that information. Old Scar growled a low curse, more of a slur than anything. One of Rhunea's ears flickered. She leaned in.

“It won't come to that, right?” she said, “We can stop this before it happens.”

“It will not, Ms. Rhunea,” Valm said, “It's precisely why we're heading to Impellia III now. We go in, glass the place, and leave.”

At this, Old Scar smirked. It was bestial. Scary. Kathen had never seen Old Scar wear it before.

(He had never seen Old Scar fight metahumans. Only heard about it.)

“What if there are other people there?” Kathen asked.

Valm looked over at him.

“Other... people?”

“Non-metahumans,” Kathen said, “What if... What if that Traveling Point leads to an already inhabited plane?”

“Then they are harboring enemies of the state,” Old Scar grunted, annoyed, “And we wipe them out too. Like the Kolares.”

“Now, Old Scar,” Dicaeopolis said, “If there are people there, they may not know that the metahumans have set up shop there.”

Valm nodded at this.

“What is your point, Mr. Aru?”

“I think,” Kathen said, “We need to know context.”

“Context,” Valm said, flatly.

Kathen nodded.

“We have context of history, Mr. Aru,” Valm said, “Is that not enough?”

There was warning in his voice. As though Kathen was crossing a line.

But he didn't care.

“With respect, sir,” Kathen said, “Historical context gives precedent. But precedents can change. This is an unknown plane we're dealing with. We don't know what's on the other side. It could be a plane that's already in the records, and this is just a new way of going there. It could be that the plane is uncontacted, but has a large indigenous population of non-metahumans.”

He looked directly at his mentor. Stared him down.

“If there is a non-metahuman population there, then it's in our best interest to make allies with them. We don't want another enemy in our backyard.”

“An opportunity for negotiation,” Valm said.

Old Scar scoffed.

“And,” he said, “What if that non-metahuman population is already in bed with the Mutts?”

“What if they aren't?” Rhunea countered, “What if... what if the metahuman population is in hiding? What if they're at war with the indigenous population?”

“Then we do what we do best,” Old Scar said, “Kate's just adding some bullshit between us arriving and the actions we need to take.”

Kathen was still looking at Valm. The Prime Voice, the guildmaster, was thinking hard on his protege's words.

“You have an open mind,” Valm said, at length, “But be careful, Mr. Aru. You possess a naive optimism. I would suggest you read about the Parable of the Silent Forest, when you have a moment.”

Kathen was quiet. He awaited Valm's final answer.

“We go, and we see what is on the other side,” Valm said, “Then, I will make my decision on what must be done.”

***

Luminary was standing at the very top of Mt. Redress when Memoire approached her. The highest point of the mountain rose as a hollowed-out spire, inside of which was the Council chambers. Pauldros the Stonemaker had erected a hidden stairway for Luminary, so she could climb it and look out upon her nation. In front of her was New Ludaya, all beautiful and pristine and hers. Behind her there was nothing, for New Ludaya was a bowl ringed by mountains, and there was nothing but darkness on the other side.

Darkness, and then storms.

It was cool up here, and Luminary had wrapped herself up in a blanket. She sat on a simple stone chair, for age had stolen long standing periods from her. From a certain point of view, she looked like any other grandmother one would see at the park, or at a small restaurant, in her white shawl and a wrinkled face, speckled liver spots on pale, skeletal hands.

Were it not for the power within her. The things that Memoire had seen her do.

This in mind, she approached the Founder carefully.

Luminary heard her before she saw her. She did not turn her head as she spoke.

“Ah, Memoire,” she said, her voice warm, “How goes your project with Myron?”

“I'm finished,” Memoire said, “All of his memories about Chliofrond are recorded.”

“Good,” Luminary said, “Sit down, dear, you must be tired.”

“I'd prefer to stand.”

“Hmm.”

Memoire stood apart from Luminary, but watched New Ludaya nonetheless. Someone was flying high above. No, two someones. A father and his daughter, both of them wings, one an alabaster bat's, the others the wings of the indigo bird's. They were wheeling about in their daily lessons. Luminary was watching them, a content smile on her face.

“...How do you stand it?” Memoire asked.

“Stand what?”

Memoires swallowed. When Luminary glanced over at her, the symbols on her form were shaking.

“You're too obvious, dear,” Luminary said, “I've told you before.”

“How do you stand it?” Memoire asked, again.

“What?”

“I think... Pauldros is starting to remember. The Pit mentioned that she is missing one of her demons, the one we sent out-”

“That's enough, Memoire,” Luminary said, “The wind has ears, and it belongs to all of us.”

A frank warning, delivered with Luminary's usual kindness.

But there were barbs underneath.

Memoire quieted down. Luminary sighed, gesturing out.

“Look at this,” she said, “Look at what we've built.”

Memoire did so. At the father and daughter. She was twirling in the air. Memoire knew of her. Indy's flying abilities had improved in the few months she had been here. She could imagine her laughter now.

“She didn't have the opportunity to do that before,” Luminary said, “She and her father were refugees, up from Melmaen. You know how the Julianisan Empire gets with us. If she didn't hide those wings, she'd be dragged off to one of their government programs. Used as a weapon.”

“You remember this?” Memoire said.

“I try to remember as much as I can about my people,” Luminary said, “It's difficult. I certainly don't have a memory like yours. And my age is getting to me. But...”

She watched the child loop through the air.

“Her story could have gone like mine,” she continued, “It sticks out to me.”

She looked at Memoire again.

“You want to ask me how I can live with it?” she said, “I do. Easily. Because here, my people are safe. Here, my people are free.”

***

Cobalt Joe, Evancar, and Lunus Oculus stood in the center of the shallow valley, watching as the Oshya:de reunited with the boy. He was the only one wearing a mask. The others were wearing moccasins and deer hide coats, a few of the women wearing white dresses with beaded dark overcoats. All of the men, save for the masked boy, were wearing wooden hats decored with a nest of feathers. Some had them a single feather jutting towards the air. A few had the feathers on the top slicked back. One of them, a young man around Joe's age, had one pointing up, the other pointing down. It was he who approached them, the masked boy in tow. The man had a tomahawk in hand, wooden handle and stone head, and the way he was spinning it gave Joe warning that he knew how to use it.

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He looked back to the crowd of Oshya:de, as though unsure. One of the women nodded to him. This was encouragement enough, as the man turned to face the three outsiders. There was a pain in his eyes as he looked at them. A wary sort of pain. Like he had been burned before. Someone on the other side of a broken promise.

“Where is the demon?” he asked.

“Evancar took care of it,” Joe said.

“Where did it go?” the man asked, forcefully, “The truth. What did you do with it?”

“I...I made a pact with it,” Evancar said, piping up, “I cannot go into much detail, per the agreement. But it cannot hear us. It will not hurt you.”

“How do I know this?” the man said, “What evidence do you have?”

Evancar swallowed.

“Only my word,” he said.

At this, the man's eyes narrowed. He was tall, towering over Joe, and the way he slunk around them gave him pause. He found himself starting up his soul's circuit. Already he saw a few more men breaking off from the crowd, weapons in hand. Tomahawks and bows. A few with knives.

“I know it's not much,” Evancar said, “Truly, I understand.”

“You're outsiders?” the man said.

“We are,” Lunus Oculus said.

“...Metahuman?”

“Two of us,” Lunus Oculus said, “Joe and I. Professor Morandus here is not. He's human.”

The man tilted his head. Stared hard at Evancar.

“Are you with... them?” the man asked, “The woman in white and her kind.”

“Who's the woman?” Joe asked, “...Luminary?”

The man grimaced.

“Yes. Her. And her accomplices.”

“Did they...” Lunus Oculus swallowed, “Did they do this to you?”

The man glared at her. He gestured to the world, tomahawk in hand.

“We are trapped in the mountains by a demon they brought forth, and this is what you ask me?”

“I...” Lunus Oculus stammered, “I...”

Joe put a hand on her shoulder. He looked over at the man.

“What's your name?” he asked.

“I would ask yours first.”

“...Cobalt Joe,” the metahuman said, “I'm not... with them. Not in that way. We're outsiders, but Professor Morandus and I, as well as a few others, came here as guests.”

“Not our guests,” the man said.

“No,” Joe said, “Guests of New Ludaya.”

“W-We were told that no one was here before,” Evancar said, “No one else on this plane, save for them. Obviously, we were… misinformed.”

The air was still. Joe watched as the man absorbed Evancar's words. Thought on them. He paced for a few moments, tomahawk still twirling in his hand. He stopped to look up at the clouds. Joseph wondered how long it had been since the man had seen open sky.

The man looked at him.

“How many more of you are there?” he asked.

“Outsiders, or metahumans?” Joe said.

“Metahumans. The woman in white, she said she was wanting to bring her people here. Did she?”

“A lot,” Joe said, “Thousands. Tens of thousands.”

“To our home,” the man said, and his voice was hard, “Our forests. Our rivers. Our lakes.”

“To New Ludaya,” Lunus Oculus said.

“She used that word,” the man said, “She called this place that name. But it is not New Ludaya. To my people, it is Ganá:yeht.”

He glared at them. Studied each other in turn, as though disbelieving.

“There are many like you,” he said, “You with wondrous powers. I ask you, how do I know this is not some sort of trick? How do I know that you are not here to finish us off?”

“Only our words,” Evancar said, “...But you may wish for more.”

The man nodded. Thought on this.

“I will take one of you with me as I confer with the mothers,” he said, “You have changed things. Freed us of the demon. But you did so by binding it to yourself. That is an evil thing.”

He pointed at Lunus Oculus.

“You. What are your powers?”

“I...” Lunus Oculus said, “My eye color. It changes with the moon's phases.”

The man blinked.

“...That is it?” he said.

“Not all metahumans have powers over light, or the earth,” Lunus Oculus said, “Most of us are mundane.”

“And yet,” the man said.

“If you are to take me hostage, I will ask again for your name,” Lunus Oculus said.

The man's mouth became a thin line.

“I am Hadawa'ko,” he said, “I will not take you. You are metahuman, but we must respect our mothers.”

(Lunus Oculus looked offended at that.)

He looked at Joseph.

“You. What is your power?”

“I'm of the more violent kind,” Joe said, “My soul can manifest as an eagle.”

“It is dangerous?”

Joe nodded.

“You will have to do,” Hadawa'ko said, “Know this. If you try anything, I will kill you.”

“Goes both ways,” Joe said, “If you hurt me, my guildmates here won't be happy.”

“They have powers like yours?”

“One of them controls fire,” Joe said, “One of them controls heat. One of them's the size of a bear, and hits like one.”

But, nonetheless, he approached Hadawa'ko, arms raised.

“My soul doesn't come out unless I want it to,” he said, “I'll answer any questions you have.”

Hadawa'ko nodded. He gestured for Joseph to start walking.

“I'll be back,” the metahuman said to the others, “Don't start anything, alright?”

“What if they hurt you?” Evancar said.

“They're not another guild, right?” Joseph said, “If they do anything, follow through with what I said.”

He followed after Hadawa'ko, back to the Oshya:de.

***

Christ, Joseph thought, There are children here.

Only now did he realize this. Only now did he realize that the boy in the mask, bereft of his bow and his coiled venom, was just that: a boy. Hurt by whatever Luminary had done to him. Only now could he see how thin the Oshya:de were. How malnourished the children were, how the people here swayed as they watched Hadawa'ko lead him into the crowd. There were empty eyes here. The bloated stomachs of advanced starvation.

The tools were chipped. The clothing frayed. The Oshya:de had been in the caves for a very long time.

A few of them watched Joseph with suspicion, and with a few of them, he was sure that they were going to leap at him, knives in hand, an attempt to revenge themselves upon the metahumans who had taken their home.

But metahumans were not monolithic, and Joseph returned their glare.

Besides, it would not come to that. Hadawa'ko shook his head at them, and any apparent challengers backed down. Still with hate in their eyes, but Cobalt Joe was under their leader's protection. He guided Joe to a group of women near the back of the crowd. Here he recognized the one who had nodded to Hadawa'ko before. She was wearing a white dress, with peahen's feathers braided in her hair, adorning her person. She was holding a string of beads in her hand, carved out of clam shell. She was a few years older than Hadawa'ko. Shared the man's sharpened face.

She studied Joseph as Hadawa'ko sat him down in front of the woman. Hadawa'ko continued pacing around. Oshya:de warriors kept themselves ready, in case Joseph tried anything.

The woman spoke first.

“Who are they, Hadawa'ko?” she asked.

“Outsiders, sister,” Hadawa'ko said, “This one here says he is metahuman, but not a part of the woman in white's group.”

The woman nodded.

“What is your name, outsider?” she asked.

“I'm Cobalt Joe,” the metahuman replied, “Your... brother, right? Hadawa'ko, what he's saying is true. There are a lot of metahumans on this plane now.”

“Plane?” the woman said.

“...World,” Cobalt Joe said, “Land. I don't know how else to describe it.”

“The land of the outside, you come from it,” the woman said.

“Yeah,” Joe said, “But it's not just one land. It's thousands. Millions.”

The woman nodded. She ignored the whispers that were coming from the rest of the Oshya:de.

“You say,” she said, “That you were invited here as a guest. By who?”

Joe swallowed. He sighed, looking out. He could say whoever. But he was starting to detect that the Oshya:de had been deceived before. That if he were to lie now, it would cause problems later.

But then, the truth might get him killed.

The woman held up the beads in her hand.

“I say this to you as Clan Mother of Mountain Clan. And my brother as Warleader of the Oshya:de. You will not be harmed. This I promise you.”

“Alright,” Joe said, “We were invited by the woman in white.”

More whispers. Harsher ones.

“She... One of my guildmates, my mentor, is a man who's old war buddies with the woman in white. With Luminary. She invited him, and he brought me along, with a few other guildmates.”

“Guildmates?” the clan mother said.

“It's...” Joseph thought, “A lot to get into. But they're like family, to me. A few of them back there are my guildmates.”

“Not of blood, but by creed,” the clan mother said.

“By common fortune,” Joseph said, “Something like that.”

***

Across the small valley, Thunderhead stretched. He had never been one for caves. Not like Lunus, who seemed to prefer them as her place of gathering. It was her idea to use the small cavern they had found in the woods as their meeting place. And it was because of this that Thunderhead very rarely attended their meetings. Even Tallneck struggled through the low passages, the icy pool.

But not Thunderhead, oh no. It was too uncomfortable. He had spent several years working in the caverns of Krenstone as a miner, carving away rock with pick and explosive. The narrow tunnels brought back bad memories.

He was glad to be out in the sun.

Nor could he imagine having to be trapped in the caves, as the people on the other side of the valley had been.

They were still talking. A group of them were watching them warily, though only a few wielded weapons. Most of them just watched. The rest of the Oshya:de were gathered in a circle around what Thunderhead presumed to be their leadership.

Around Cobalt Joe.

“Do you think they'll hurt him?” Lunus Oculus asked.

Evancar, who was chewing on some jerky, shrugged.

“Dunno,” he said, “They're definitely guarded. But that comes from... whatever happened to them.”

Lunus Oculus nodded. She had gone pale. Her hands were shaking, and her red eyes had lost a bit of their luster.

The existence of the Oshya:de had struck quite a blow to her. To her fantasy of New Ludaya, problems and all.

There was a reason she had not left the plane. There was a reason that she had organized instead. To bring up her protestations.

She had believed.

“Nasir,” Evancar said, “You see anything?”

The tracker was on his haunches, watching the Oshya:de in the distance. He shrugged.

“Nothing,” he said, “Though, that is a good sign. It means they haven't killed Joe.”

“What makes you say that?” Thunderhead walked over and patted Lunus Oculus on the shoulder.

“They would be turning on us at that point,” Nasir said, “They can't risk us realizing and dipping back into the caves. We know the way out just as much as they do.”

“A f-fair assessment,” Evancar said, and he ate more of the jerky.

Then noticed quite a few of the Oshya:de were looking at him.

“...Wonder how long since they've eaten.”

***

“So there are more of you,” the woman said.

“Yeah,” Joe said, “Other metahumans.”

“How many?”

“Thousands,” Joe said, “Tens of thousands.”

Another ripple of murmurs. Many of the Oshya:de were talking hurriedly to one another. Hadawa'ko was grimacing. He began spinning the tomahawk in his hand again. Joseph leaned in to look at the woman.

“You aren't...” he thought for a moment, choosing his words carefully, “You aren't going to do anything, are you?”

“You worry that we will try and attack them.”

“They aren't involved in this,” Joe said.

“They took our homes!” Hadawa'ko snarled, suddenly, “They slaughtered our families!”

“They don't know that!” Joe retorted, “Most of the people came here because they were told it was safe.”

“Safe?” Hadawa'ko said, “Your people, safe?”

Cobalt Joe nodded.

“Your people are monsters,” Hadawa'ko said, “You, with your demonic abilities, your curses given form-”

“Say that again, dipshit,” Joe growled, nearly standing, “And they'll be burying pieces of you.”

The crowd stirred. The air scented ozone. Cobalt Joe's soul began to rocket through his body. But the woman raised her hand.

“Enough,” she said, “Hadawa'ko, that's enough.”

“He said there are thousands of them!” Hadawa'ko said, “Thousands! They've already moved all of their clans in! How do we know that they haven't ravaged the world? That they haven't turned Father Mountain inside out, like they said they would?”

“And there are thousands of them!” the woman countered, “How do you hope to stop them? We could not even stop seven.”

At this, Joe's anger died for a second. As the facts of the situation came back to him.

“Seven,” he said, “You said... seven metahumans did this, right?”

“You will not speak unless spoken to, outsider,” Hadawa'ko said, “You are-”

“Brother, enough.”

“Sister,” Hadawa'ko said, “The mothers named me Warleader. Here I am, in war, and you overrule me?”

The siblings glared at each other.

“We named you Warleader because of your level headed nature,” the woman said, “You know how father was. You know he would have used us up, in his game of retribution.”

“Retribution that is deserved,” Hadawa'ko said.

“Retribution that would annihilate us,” the woman replied, “You know this.”

Hadawa'ko's mouth formed into a thin line. He glanced over to Joe. Then shook his head.

“Very well,” he said, “Speak, outsider.”

“What happened?” Joe said, “What did Luminary do?”

***

It was the masked boy who split off from the group. Someone shouted after him, but did little else. Evidently there was little to deter the boy as he strode over to Evancar. Nasir got up, watching the kid. But Evancar brought up a hand to ward the tracker off.

“What is it?” Evancar said.

“The jerky,” the boy said, “Give it to me.”

The archaeologist blinked.

“W-What?”

“I'm hungry,” the boy said, “You have food.”

He paused again. And now his voice became just the least bit pleading.

“...Please.”

Evancar studied the kid. Noted how bones jutted from beneath his skin. How his wiriness came not only from his build, but from starvation. He handed the bag to him.

“Pass it around,” he said, “We can look into getting more food later.”

The boy nodded. Slipped a few pieces of jerky beneath his mask and into his mouth. Then, he turned around, bag in hand, back to his group.

Evancar watched him hand out pieces to those immediately around him. They wolfed the food down quickly.

***

“They came to us as friends,” the woman said, “Outsiders are a rare sight here, on Ganá:yeht. The last time we had heard of one was from a story told by my grandmother. Kariwase would know more.”

She nodded to an old man watching the proceedings. The only elder Joe had seen among the Oshya:de.

“Most of them were explorers, my grandmother told me,” the woman continued, “Those who were not were asked to leave. It was the duty of my clan, Mountain clan, to dissuade any outsiders from overt violence against our people.”

Joe nodded.

“...Then the woman in white came,” he said, “Luminary.”

“Her, and others,” the woman said, “She could control light. Another could control the earth. One turned metal to plantlife. One was a conjurer. One's chest could hold anything, as though it were a sack. One held memory, and stole many of ours.”

A cold, creeping feeling was winding its way up Cobalt Joe's spine. They sounded like the Council, or at least how Becenti had described them.

“And,” he said, “What happened?”

“They said that they wished to purchase land from us,” the woman said, “At first, we did not understand. We do not own Ganá:yeht. We live upon it. But from where you are from, people claim to do this. To barter the land as though they were beads.”

“How much did she want to buy?” Joseph asked.

“The area around Father Mountain,” the woman said, “It must be obvious that we refused. Father Mountain is one of our most revered sites. It is where we are said to have sprung from earth, from a spring hidden deep within the rock.”

Joe nodded.

He didn't say anything about where he suspected Father Mountain to be.

Nor how much Mt. Redress had been hollowed out by Pauldros the Stonemaker and the Workers.

“And when you refused, she struck,” he said.

The woman was quiet. Her bottom lip was trembling. She struggled to compose herself, and all she could give Joe was a quick nod. One of the other women laid a reassuring hand on her arm, while Hadawa'ko took point.

“They summoned demons,” he said, “They used their powers against us. Against all five clans, though they had only spoken to Mountain. Dandelion, Mountain, Four Banner, Arrowmakers, and Sky. All five were driven out. Driven here.”

“They did this,” Joe said.

“They killed our families,” Hadawa'ko said, “They killed our father, who was the old Chief. The Clan Mothers...”

He shook his head.

“Those who were left of them, they named me Warleader.”

“Is that different from Chief?”

“In times of war, the Chief is Warleader,” Hadawa'ko said, “In times of peace, the Warleader is Chief.”

Joseph nodded. Looked away. At the faces of the Oshya:de around him. He had seen the looks in those eyes before. They had seen war. They were on the brink of starvation. Forced into the caves.

By Luminary.

And she had set a demon to keep guard. No doubt keeping some of them alive was her version of mercy.

“...I'm sorry,” he said, “Truly I am. I didn't know.”

Hadawa'ko's sister had calmed down. She glared at him.

“You did not know,” she said, “Now what will you do? There are thousands of your people now, no longer seven.”

“First,” Joe said, “We have to get you food. Water.”

“And then what?”

“I don't... I don't know,” Joe said, “This is...”

He took a deep breath. Ice had filled his spine.

“A lot to take in,” he said, “I'll talk with the others.”

“The others?”

“I'm mostly muscle,” Joe said, “I want to talk to the rest of my group. See what we can do.”

“What you can do,” Hadawa'ko growled.

Joseph returned his glare.

“Yeah,” he said, “I'm just one guy. What else would you have me do?”

Hadawa'ko was quiet. He flipped his tomahawk to the other hand.

“Very well, Cobalt Joe,” he said, “Return to your group. We will talk amongst ourselves, to see what we should do with our new freedom.”

Joe nodded.

“Alright,” he said, “Keep in touch.”