"You're safe." Benevolence's voice is soft as he strokes bony fingers through Besra's curly hair, waking him up from a nightmare he suddenly can't remember the plot of. The lightweight navy hammock swaying as if punctuating his words. "I will never let anything happen to you."

The Holy City is overcrowded with smells and items and people in comparison to the humble life he and River have lived up to this point.

He sends up a desperate prayer for strength and cunning as they're guided from the carriage and into a wing of a massive cathedral. The sunlight bathes the halls and attached rooms in multicolor that filters through stained glass. Brand new tapestries hang delicate and in order, telling a story just as the glass does.

Sharing a tale of the white sheep who poured his blood on them in effort to hide them from a vengeful shepherd who wanted to break their legs and carry them home. To teach them the Unforgettable Lesson.

And yet, here he stands with the black goat. Someone who's never done a single wrong in his life.

River's small hand takes his own as they follow the instructions of the delta that hem them in, down the passageway and then a flight of stone stairs.

"Where are you taking us?" He almost regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth and the men glance at him. "What do you want?"

The steps take them into a room with cells and Besra cannot shake the sinking feeling in his stomach. He doesn't resist, allowing them to be pushed into the cell across from a dirty man bellowing at the soldiers about his "fat, cheating wife" and beside a very quiet woman with auburn hair.

She sits on the cot, elbows on her knees and head down as if praying.

The door slams behind him and he turns to check in on River, heart springing into his throat at the sight of the boy being hauled right back up the steps.

His hands reach for the teen, dark eyes wild. "Bes! Don't let them take me!"

Frantically, he snatches a tiny wrist, pushing up against the bars so hard that his face hurts as he clings to his charge. "Give him back! He didn't do anything wrong!"

"Unhand him or we'll unhand you!" Snaps one of the men but Besra refuses to let go, chest aching and head pounding with the swell of his own blood in his ears.

"Give him back!"

His fingers are pried from River as the younger boy squirms and shouts for Besra's help to no avail. His charge is taken from his sight, door closing off even his lithe shadow.

Frustrated and angry with nowhere for his insurmountable powerlessness to go, he screams his defeat, throwing himself against unwavering metal.

Benevolence had asked him for one thing. One thing. One thing.

And he failed.

He can't even begin to pick apart the very moment he fell short, other than not trying hard enough to protect Benevolence in the first place.

After all, if he were alive, he would have been able to fend off the danger and keep them all safe. Just as he'd always done.

"Sounds like you're having a bad day," Says the woman. "What's the matter?"

Knees giving out, he slides against his cage. The man across from him licks chapped lips. "Well, my wife and I have been together for fifteen years--"

"Not you," She says, "Everyone knows what your problem is, you donkey."

Besra glances up at her from underneath his curls, startling to find the woman has moved across her cell without a single noise.

Her grey eyes are sharp like knives as they measure him. She smells like omega but looks at him as if he were prey and gives him a smile that doesn't quite fit her face.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

Something is very wrong.

"Besra," She whispers, "My name is Lillian. I want to help you. After I let you out, I want you to go and get River. And then I want you to find a woman named Renja. She owes me a favor and will look after the two of you."

Her hair sways just underneath her chin as she opens the door to her own cell. The old man suddenly becomes very interested in the back of his own holding room.

It takes very little effort to free him, the cage door swinging open with a screech of metal and such ease that he wonders if it had even been locked. "Go and get the boy, Besra. And ask Renja to take you to the Old Kingdom. You'll be safe there."

"Thank you!" He tells her. "I won't forget this!"

He races down the hall and after his friend, tackling the first delta guard to the ground and snatching up River into his arms.

Besra picks the direction he thinks they came from, skidding to a sudden halt at the blade pointed in his face. "Put him down or die."

The guard to his left hisses and curses as his form crumples to the ground. The four others begin to look around for the culprit, shouting in rage when they lie eyes on Lillian.

"You!" Shouts the one on Besra's right. "A witch!"

"Go!" Says the woman. "I'll hold them off here while you find Renja!"

Besra doesn't have to be told twice, bolting away from the chaos and watching every door snap shut as the Saint's men try to swarm. Quietly, he sends thanks to his God. Of course He would be on Besra's side.

A door at the end and to the left lingers ajar and he immediately knows, as if someone were guiding him, that this is his exit. Once inside, a heavy wooden door glides open and River immediately runs through it, the boy stares at the different paths, but Besra grabs his hand. A strong gut feeling guides him down an alleyway to the right and right and then left. Between brick buildings and small shopping stalls run by farmers and traders but closed for the evening. Lights flicker to life in their wake but Besra refuses to let them catch up. They have to get out.

He has to find Renja.

The house they race to is out of place from the others, a small metal box with windows and a door.

He tugs River to the back of the house and yanks open the sliding pane, bending his knees. "Come on, we've gotta get inside before anyone notices."

"But..." The younger teen looks around. "We could get in trouble."

"We're in trouble right now," Besra argues, lacing his fingers. "Come on."

He hesitates before placing his foot where Besra's fingers join and allowing himself to be boosted into the window. "How do you know this is the right house?"

"I just do."

River begins to climb in before letting out a little hiss and recoiling.

"What?" Besra demands. A howling like wind sending a wildfire into frenzy begins and he becomes all the more anxious. "What is it?"

He peers around his charge to see fire leaping up to try catching River's leg aflame like an overzealous guard dog.

The woman Besra had been looking for appears from around the corner and he watches her vanish, only to come back and dump water on the fire. There's a loud, drawn out whine that he assumes to be the pathetic fizzling of her flame beasts. The coals glow bright and hot as they skitter over to the log and latch onto it for dear life.

"Th-thank you." The boy says sheepishly, accepting Renja's hand so she can pull him through the window enough to hook an arm about his waist and heft him over the death trap.

She sets him on his feet and he promptly sits on her fire resistant rug.

"What the hell are you doing?" She demands, walking to the entryway and pulling kindling from a small box that sits attached to the wall above the logs. She returns, throwing it onto the coals and the flames whoosh back into existence as Besra begins to climb in, himself.

"Holy shit." He hears River say. "How did you do that?"

"What are you doing here?" The woman demands.

"Wow," Says River and Besra attempts to avoid the ravenous flames that follow him as if sentient. "Your hair. You really are a Toko."

"Do not use my family name." She scolds him. "And tell me why you're here."

Besra leaps from the window and the fire springs onto his pants leg and sleeve, forcing him to pat it out before it can spread. The name of the woman who sent him dances on the tip of his tongue as if he's known her for years. "Lillian sent us."

Renja's frame tenses and she looks at him over her shoulder from where she's crouched in front of River. He's stunned at her vibrant red hair and green eyes.

Just when he thought his luck couldn't get any worse. Of course everything else had been too easy.

"Lillian?" Renja asks. "Why?"

"Please help us!" Says River. "I'm not the black goat and I just want to go home!"

She recoils from the teen. "If Lillian sent you..." Her gaze flickers between the two of them before standing. "Alright. I'll help you. But all I'm doing is taking you home to Vibra and that's it."

"No." Besra decides. "We'll figure it out on our own. We don't trust people like you."

She blinks and her face scrunches, freckles making her exasperation all the more evident. "So you broke into my house, just to talk shit to me?"

"No. We broke into your house because we didn't know Lillian sent us to a sigma King Murderer."

"I didn't murder your king," The woman tells him, arms crossing. "And it's better to be sigma than omega, so spare me the lecture. Go ahead and see how far the two of you get without me."

"We'll be fine." He insists. "Come on, River."

He moves past her and helps his charge to his feet. Together, they walk to the door and he peeks out, only to find the streets swarming with the Saint's men.

Realizing he's vastly out numbered in an unfamiliar city, he turns to the woman again and frowns.

"Say you're sorry and I'll help you." Renja tells him without skipping a beat.