Yared's spine was straight as he ascended the steps to my father's office. The old man didn't look like an employee preparing to speak to his boss. Instead, he looked like a soldier going to war. I couldn't blame him. It was my father he was speaking to after all. As if sensing my gaze, he looked back just as the door opened for him. With a nod and a gentle smile, he stepped inside.

I stood rooted to the spot, the plethora of gunsmiths walking this way and that around me. To be perfectly honest, I wasn't quite sure what to do next. Was I going to confront my father? You could bet the Hells I was, but I needed to allow Yared to try to speak to him first. Before his guard was up. I knew a conversation between those two would be infinitely more civil if I wasn't present.

The distinctive sound of heavy boots crept up behind me. Turning, I saw it was Captain Lowin, Stone's second in command in the city guard. His catlike eyes glimmered as he took in the hustle of the warehouse. A clawed hand tightened on the hilt of a sword at his hip. The stock of a rifle peeked out from under his cloak. As usual, the cloak of a captain of his rank was a deep violet embroidered with the flame encased in ice.

"Pardon my intrusion, Miss McAlister. I've been looking for you most of the morning and was told you were sighted here. The sheriff needs to speak to you," he said in his deep voice, fanged teeth catching the light as he spoke. I glanced at Zachariah, then back to him.

"Yes, because the last time we spoke went so well," I muttered dryly, though I knew the Captain's werebeast hearing heard me easily. A slow blink was his only reaction. Sighing, I cracked my neck and pulled my duster coat tighter over my shoulders.

"Thank you, Captain. Lead the way."

*******

Stone wasn't alone when we arrived. I heard the familiar melodic tenor of Councilman Terris speaking in low tones to Stone as we approached the door. The Captain nodded to us before leaving without any fanfare, his task completed.

Stone was at his desk like normal. Kage was invisible, but I could see a feather duster floating around the office creating little clouds on the small bookcase in the corner. Even as I watched, it disappeared. A moment later, invisible hands tossed a log onto the fire in the wide hearth behind Stone. He sat with his weight braced on his elbows as Councilman Terris stood nearby. The two men were bent over a small envelope under Stone's palm, which was sealed with a scarlet wax. The tension between those two was as palpable as the heat from the fire.

Stone and the councilman looked at me as if I were a descending plague as I entered. Stone's hand tightened on the envelope. After several moments of awkward silence, he cleared his throat.

"Councilman, will you please excuse us?" Stone asked calmly, though his tone broached no refusal. Terris glanced from him to me, his tawny eyes carefully blank. His large frame was silhouetted against the window as he stood to his full height. I was grateful that Ash had decided to not come with us, wanting to avoid any awkward run-ins with the Sheriff. Even though she was choosing to be helpful now, I doubted she had a clean record with the law.

"Lady Rowena! Lady Beafoutonte! It is good to see you again. I had hoped to host you both for lunch or tea before now," he said, ignoring Stone's request. He swept into a small bow before I could react. Thankfully, Myra was quick to sink into a graceful curtsy. Zachariah and I stood awkwardly to the side, taking special interest in the boards of the wall as Myra pushed her way forward. This was a moment the society heiress had been raised for, and she didn't miss it.

"My dear Councilman! Our deepest apologies. I unfortunately monopolized Miss Rowena and Mr. Zachariah's time with preparations for the wedding. I hope you will pardon us," she said as she ascended from her curtsy. The councilman chuckled amiably before his face turned grave.

"Of course. Such a shame your party was interrupted by that vicious gang. I heard it was quite the scene," Terris said, folding his arms behind his back. Her turned his gaze on Zachariah for the first time.

"I also hear your efforts, along with our esteemed bounty huntress, were nothing short of heroic. My compliments to you," he said evenly. He inclined his head to Zachariah, who returned the gesture wordlessly. The councilman's brows rose a fraction at his silence before he returned his attention to Myra.

"I do hope that those Pumas were put to justice. Magic poison can be a nasty thing to recover from. The Gods only know what could have happened," he said conversationally. Wood creaked as Stone stood from his desk, his face impassive.

"I'd like to suggest you have this conversation later, Councilman. Rowena and I have something to discuss," he said firmly, that envelope still clasped in his hand. Terris looked back at Stone, tense seconds passing before he responded.

"Very well, Sheriff. I'll ask that you keep me informed as always," he said as he donned his hat and coat. He nodded to the rest of us with a polite smile that didn't reach his eyes. Returning his gaze to Stone, he paused in the doorway. His knuckles were white on the doorknob.

"I do hope that your pride doesn't get in the way of you learning the truth," he said calmly. Stone didn't respond, waiting for him to leave at last. Terris gave a final disappointed shake of his head.

"Good day to you all," he said quietly before closing the door.

Stone groaned, massaging his eyes after the handle clicked into place. He sat heavily at the edge of his desk with the expression of a man who had lived a thousand lifetimes.

"What does he mean by that, Sheriff Stone?" Myra asked hesitantly as she adjusted the lace gloves on her hands. She had donned a fresh day-gown before we went into town, the fabric pristine since she had ridden in her buggy drawn by Belle. She tilted head head at a ditsy angle, some stray hairs falling into her eyes. Even her tone suggested an empty-headedness that I had been quick to believe before. But now I kept thinking about all those books and her apparent knowledge of Elemancy. I couldn't figure out why she pretended to be this way when she was capable of so much more.

But those were questions for another time.

"Nothing, Lady Beaufoutonte. He and I just disagree on what our course of action should be regarding the Deified murders. He suggested that I should...Well, that Rowena--" he said, cutting himself off as he looked at me. I saw the barest flash of guilt before he cleared his throat. My stomach sank as the words hit me, my armor suddenly feeling too tight.

"Stone, I--"

"Nevermind. I asked you here because of this," he interrupted, holding up the envelope. I wanted to force him to finish, but one look at his face told me it was pointless. Stone's mind was a malleable as his namesake when his eyes slanted like that. I refocused on the envelope, which Stone now held between two fingers toward me.

"It was on my desk before I arrived this morning," he explained as I took it. I was surprised by how thick the paper felt in my hands as I looked it over. There was no insignia on the seal. Finally, I looked at front, and hardened my jaw as I saw the elegant cursive written in large letters. The ink was red. At least, I hoped it was ink.

To My Lady Chosen.

I glanced at Stone, who regarded the letter like a mound of black powder lying next to a campfire.

Stolen story; please report.

Despite this, a strange question came to mind.

"Why would the letter be delivered here if he knows who I am?" I asked, fingering the seal. Despite everything, a corner a Stone's mouth lifted in a grim smile.

"You always did ask the right questions," he said in a soft voice, shifting his weight on the desk. Shocked by the compliment, I waited for him to explain. Stone stood and walked toward us, eyes on the letter.

"I think its safe to assume this is a message from our murderer. You must have made an impression on him in your fight," he said, rolling his eyes heavenward, "Based on the ways the bodies have been discovered, this is a murderer that likes spectacle. A narcissist."

"Hmm, another thing you two have in mind," Myra said, her lips curving. I glanced sidelong at her, unamused.

"I would argue, but you're an expert on the subject, Miss bride-to-be," I replied. Crossing her arms, Myra slanted her eyes but offered no retort. Satisfied, I looked down at the letter again. Just then, the smell of old copper wafted from the page to me, and I knew the red wasn't ink.

A chill crawled over my skin at Stone's explanation. I remembered all too well my fight with the cloaked Chosen, and how close my soul had come to being ripped apart. If that had happened, there would be no Far Shore for me. I would have gone to the abyss.

I also remembered how much pleasure the cloaked figure had taken as he held the book with my name on it and torn out a page.

"So for him," I said quietly, "This is all a game?"

Stone shook his head.

"More like a show. Seeing the method and time between murders, he wants people to be afraid of him. And now," Stone said, tapping the letter with a calloused finger, "He has a rival to challenge him. Delivering the letter here is all part of his fun."

Come and get me, bastard.

Loosing a breath, I hooked a finger under the seal.

"Well then," I said, breaking the scarlet wax, "Let's see what he wants with me."

Without any further delay, I looked at the note written in the same red lettering.

You ask questions best left unanswered. Come to the place the Lover was laid.

My vision tunneled on those words. The message was short, but it was enough to make ice run through my veins. That pool of black inside me rippled like someone has just tossed a boulder inside it. Even though I tried to rein it in, the demon inside growled in rage as I realized what the words meant.

He knew where Fayra's grave was. And he was waiting for me.

Myra gasped, taking a step backward. Even Stone grunted.

"Miss Rowena, your shadow!" Myra said, retreating another step backward. I lowered the letter with shaking hands, looking down. Myra was right. My shadow had tripled in size, and it was pulsing with energy. Tendrils of it curled and uncurled themselves on the floor like hungry vines. The veins in my hands looked like they been injected with ink, and the surrounding skin had gone deathly white.

A hand came down on my shoulder, warm and firm. A second later, another hand settled on my other shoulder. Looking up, I saw that Zachariah and Stone had both reached out, unafraid of my demonic form. Zachariah inclined his head, reading the letter. His pupils narrowed with rage as he saw the words.

My voice was a primordial growl when I at last trusted myself to speak.

"He has invited me to meet him," I said too quietly, handing the letter to Stone for he and Myra to read.

"And I intend to accept."

*******

The ride to the Kenshi Ethereal Forest was an eternity. Dusk's breath came out in clouds of steam as he galloped. I barely registered the others following us. Even Stone had dropped everything and mounted Buck without delay.

Dusk and I outpaced the others as we flew across the plane, racing the setting sun.

Nothing mattered except getting to her grave. Not the icy wind piercing my armor, or even the numbness spreading through my fingers as they held their vice grip on the reins. The sun was not fully below the horizon as we crossed the first line of trees.

Kenshi had already risen, his titanic form visible through the thunderwood. Seeing us approach, the Raito turned and sprinted through the trees. My heart sank as I saw what he was running toward.

Dusk needed no direction as he followed the shallow path. Several of the Other appeared as we passed through the tall trunks. They darted about, far more active than I had ever seen them. A familiar green light fluttered toward me on silent wings. The tiny sparrow with catlike eyes flew a few circles around Dusk's head before landing on the saddle horn. It hopped in front of me, fanning its wings in warning. Grinding my jaw, I leaned forward in the saddle.

"Faster now, Dusk," I murmured. Dusk immediately hurdled a log, nearly making me lose my balance backward. His hooves pounded on the path as his breath came in faster bursts. The smell of churned earth hit my nose as we neared the end of the trail. I was already swinging down from the saddle as I saw the Toge.

Or at least, what was left of them.

The two Toge bushes I had planted all those years ago laid in pieces across the small patch of grass. The Thunderwood branches which made their bodies was spread everywhere along with the flowers they normally wore. Deep gashes in the ground were everywhere from the fight that must have ensued. The branches didn't so much as twitch when my boots hit the ground. I wasn't looking at the Toge, however.

Fayra's arch was gone.

Sections of the polished stone laid in ruin where it had once been. The Thunderwood box with my letters to her was gone as well. Kenshi sat next to the sight, his color shifting from blue to purple to red.

Rage was a gentle word for what I was feeling.

I turned in place, searching for the hooded figure with balled fists. Spears of shadow were already forming around me, poised the strike. My face framed itself in an animal snarl, my teeth bared as my hair came loose from where is was tied. The raven length tumbled around my shoulders, catching in the small breeze. I kept curling and uncurling my fingers, hungry for flesh to tear. There would be no mercy for the cloaked Chosen. There would be only pain, darkness, and blood. Normally some small moral part of me counseled mercy and logic to my demon at times like this. I called that voice "the healer".

She was silent now.

"Show youself," I said in a lethal quiet.

Nobody answered.

Myra, Zachariah, and Stone caught up, pausing at the scene of wreckage. I felt Kenshi's gaze on me as wind swept through the clearing. Ignoring them, I kept approaching where the arch had been in slow predatory circles. I pleaded silently for the cloaked Chosen to come through the trees, but still nothing happened.

"Highest Heavens, what happened here?" Myra asked in a strained whisper. Stone shushed her with an order to stay near him. I kept circling, changing my angle and keeping my shadows at the ready, already warming up to stop time. If this bastard wanted a fight, I would give him a fight worthy of a ballad.

Paper crunched under the heel of my boot.

Looking down, I saw another envelope weighed down with a section of the arch. I couldn't suppress another growl when I saw what section it was.

Fayra Marvella Stone.

The letter was addressed the same as the first with identical red lettering. The others surrounded me as I broke the second wax seal.

Hello, My Lady Chosen. Consider this a warning. Leave those destined to die to their Fate. Until next time, Sweet.

Shadows moved in my hand until the paper was shredded. The fragments drifted lazily to the ground as I looked to where the arch once stood. My voice shook when I spoke next.

"You just signed your death warrant," I said too quietly. Looking up, I saw Stone's face mirrored my own, his hand settling on the revolver at his hip.

Without warning, Zachariah walked to the base of the arch and knelt on the ground. He rolled up his sleeves, closing his eyes as he laid his hand flat on the ground. He began to murmur in Kaze, my mind translating the words automatically.

"Mother of Earth, solid and strong, give form to my will."

The ground beneath his palm turned to sand, and red Elemancr tattoos flowed up his arm in strong and severe lines. They flowed all the way to his face, encircling his eyes in red markings. Zachariah opened his eyes, the green fading to the color of dying coals in a fire.

My breath caught as Zachiah shifted his stance and laid his hand on the remnants of the base, his eyes narrowed in concentration. Despite the chill, sweat gathered on his brow as his irises glowed like twin lanterns. The lines flowed down his arm to where he touched a piece of the polished stone. Kenshi continued to sit at the edge of the clearing, his attention fully on Zachariah.

The ground rumbled.

Section by section, the arch reformed as if it had never been broken. Heat gathered behind my eyes as the last piece, the piece with her name on it, flew from my hand and settled into place. The tiny green Other sparrow flew and sat itself on the apex just as the fracture lines faded. Folding its wings neatly, it did three circles and laid there with watchful eyes on the forest.

Zachariah knelt again after the arch was fully repaired, not caring that he was being watched. He laid his palm on the ground that had become sand, murmuring in Kaze again. The energy flowed from his arm, reforming the soil from the sand it had become.

Wordlessly, Zachariah strode past us back to his horse, Wind. He stopped only to rest his hand on my shoulder for the smallest moment before squaring his shoulders. I was the only one who saw the full blaze of rage in his eyes as he swept into the saddle. Looking at Myra and Stone, I walked to Dusk and saddled myself next to Zachariah and Wind.

Kenshi moved as the others got back in the saddle, his face as unreadable as always. He strode to the remains of the Toge and stooped his head, touching his nose to their corpses.

From the knarled roots sprang a rose made of light.