Every muscle in Kess’s body tensed up as she watched the Witchblades nearby. It was an entire patrol of the clouding things, their hips sparkling with a sickly blue light as they stopped several people on their way up to Dawnring District. Several people swore and made rude gestures as they brushed past Kess, but her knees locked into place as she stared at that light.

Someone screamed, and she smelled blood, but the street remained mundane as men and women hurried about their business. She shook her head and turned on her heel, but not before she heard a voice rise out of the chaos of the gate.

“Please, Whitering’s bakeries are sold out today.” A brunette woman in her late thirties pled with a Witchblade, who simply stood there, expressionless. “You have to know how they get during Drystorm season if you work down here,” the woman continued. “My daughter’s nameday is today, and the bakery’s just around the corner. If you could just—“

“No entry into Dawnring today without orange sash or higher,” the guard said. Kess had a hard time finding any sort of humanity in a Witchblade’s face, but this one almost looked bored. The woman opened her mouth to argue one more time, but the crackling lightning of Fulminancy snapped towards her, and she jumped, hurrying away from the guard.

Kess stopped her before she could retreat back into Whitering. A small boy clutched to her skirts, thumb in his mouth— he’d been so small Kess hadn’t even noticed him in the crowd.

“I’m sorry,” the woman said, her eyes falling on the blood and dirt on Kess’s outfit. “What did you—“

Kess untied her red sash, blushing a little bit at the nakedness she now felt. It wasn’t quite proper to go without a sash, but the people of Downhill were practical if nothing else, and she did still have a shirt and trousers on at least.

“Take it,” she said, pushing it towards the woman. The woman hesitated, eyes wide— her own sash was orange and white, which wouldn’t allow her consistent entry into Dawnring and its shops on a daily basis. Kess shoved her sash towards the woman again. “Or trade me, I don’t care. The guards will let you go for a day without verifying— then you’ll have to go back to your old sash. You have extras at home?”

The woman nodded, and began to untie her own sash, though the color rose in her cheeks as well. Modesty was a luxury— one that perhaps neither of them could afford. The woman handed Kess her old sash and tied Kess’s dirty one around her own waist. As Kess did the same with the other sash, she found the woman’s eyes brimming with tears.

“Thank you,” she said. “I know it doesn’t sound like much, but my daughter was looking forward to this for years. I didn’t realize I’d already used my entry voucher earlier this week. I— thank you so much.” She hesitated again, then gave Kess a quick hug and took her toddler into her arms to try the guards again.

The Witchblades were irritated, but let the woman pass, and Kess felt a weight lift from her shoulders. That’s two cloudspawn with one stone, she thought. Her own sash had been too high for her anyway.

Kess hurried back the way she’d come. It would be the long route to Mattes’s place, between her sudden loss in rank and her desire to avoid the Witchblades as much as possible. Hopefully she would make it in time.

Her second route ended before it started. Several shops with multiple tiers spread into two districts at the same time, the shops themselves cobbled onto the mountain rock with makeshift platforms, steps, and support struts. In Dawnring, these shops were at least reinforced against any passing Drystorms. In Whitering they sported constant repairs and patched, rotting wood.

Kess nearly swung into a book shop without thinking, but stopped short at the sight of more blue uniforms. She ducked between two food carts, watching the doorway and touching her cheek idly. It still smarted, the crackling lightning-like burn from her fight last night a constant reminder of how she’d been swindled. Well, she would take care of that tonight, if she could ever get to Mattes. One last job. These streets were familiar, at least, and Kess knew another way up— it just wasn’t one she wanted to tackle with her aching limbs.

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A boy brushed past her, and Kess recognized the blond curls of one of the street lads, Liam. She tugged at his shirt, and he opened his mouth to make a ruckus until Kess pressed a coin into his hand, shaking her head. The boy was worse than a Lightstorm, with the amount of noise and chaos he could cause.

“Kess, you’re windblown,” he said, pulling her aside. “First I get wind of you thrashing Lead, you get dumped in the drunk tank, and then you grab me like a common assassin in broad daylight.”

“Would an assassin grab you in broad daylight, Liam?” He frowned at that.

“I guess not. Anyway I’ve got errands to be about,” he said, drawing up to his full height. He was barely into his teens, but he already dwarfed Kess. “Some stormsick rock-lover Uphill thinks we have better bakeries, and she’s giving me enough coin to buy out just about every market in Bloodring— in a Lightstorm, even.”

“We do have better bakeries,” Kess replied, still watching the front of the shop. The Witchblades didn’t seem inclined to leave any time soon.

“Sure, but you think I’m gonna spend it on the best sweets?” He shook his head ruefully. “Kess, you know how it is with them. They got more money than sense. So the way I see it, I find the decent bakeries and pocket the change. Rockheads don’t know good food if it hit them in the head anyway.”

Kess smiled, but couldn’t quite calm her thumping heart. “Why are there so many Witchblades out?” she finally asked him. Liam studied the shop she eyed, scowling.

“Been like that since you got tossed in. Something about a search for the Seat of Mariel, whatever that is.” He rolled his eyes.

“But they called that search off years ago,” Kess said, confused. “She’s dead.” Liam shrugged.

“As dead as any Uphill cloudspawn. Those folk don’t quite know how to die in my estimation. They turn up down here all the time, or so my ma says.”

“You would think the fighting rings would be enough for them,” Kess said, voice quiet. Aggressive patrols were not good news. She had enough trouble keeping a roof over her head. She didn’t need to be answering to every Witchblade on the streets looking for trouble. Liam flipped her coin and caught it neatly in a pouch.

“Well if you ask me, that’s where I’d hide if I were the Seventh Seat. Right in plain sight where no one would think to look.” He leaned against the wall behind him, eying the shop. “None of them cloudspawned Witchblades are good for us average folk though,” he said darkly. He was a little serious for his age, but growing up Downhill would do that to a boy. “The more that stay away, the better.” He winked at Kess. “Anyway I got coin to make.” He looked her up and down, his gaze disappointed. “Will you visit my poor ma and me tonight or is it the same as always?”

“You know my answer, Liam.”

The boy sighed dramatically. “You’re not that much trouble, you know. I’ve nearly gotten thrown into the tank myself once before.” He frowned, looking up at the sky. “Though ma almost killed me for it. Anyway, she just calls it having ‘interesting company’. If you change your mind you know where to find me. And Kess?”

“Yes?”

“Try to behave,” he said, looking too serious for his age. “If not for your own mother than for me own. She worries about you.”

Kess smiled slightly and waved at the boy while he jogged off. Liam’s mother hadn’t even seen Kess in years, but she’d gotten the boy out of a tight spot with some Fulminant patrols once. The woman was constantly trying to invite Kess to her home.

For a brief, intense moment, Kess wondered what it would be like to have a family again. An image bubbled into her head. A warm hearth, a lavish meal, people she’d once called family. The image evaporated, replaced with the dreary day and Witchblades moving about the streets like droplets that no one wanted to touch. I can’t have that, she thought. Not anymore.

She heaved a sigh and pushed off from the wall. Climbing would have to do.