The inside of the house was the same as it always was–messy and crowded with furniture.

Kylara took a deep breathe to get the smell of the place. Yalmay always made fun of her for that, asking her if she liked the smell of old people or something. But it wasn’t like that. When Kylara’s grandmother had been alive, the place had always smelled of mint. She had loved the scent and put it everywhere. Even now, whenever Kylara walked in, there was always a second or two when she thought she smelt it. It had been three years, but the memory still lingered.

She walked in and stopped in the doorway of the study, where Uncle Don was sitting in a chair, reading a thin book. He was glancing between it and a small device in his lap as if trying to decide how to work it. It was probably a manual of some sorts. Her father’s side of the family had a special fondness for trinkets and making things with their hands. Kylara had not inherited the skill.

She waved at him as he looked up. “Oh hi, Kylara,” he said. He looked at his father and grinned. “Don't tell me you're under the thumb already?” he mimed the gesture. “Didn’t you just got assigned to babysitting duty a few days ago?”

“It’s not babysitting duty,” her grandad corrected briskly, “she’s watching the kids for the right temperament.”

Uncle Don sat back lazily in his recliner. “Sounds the same to me,” he said. “How’s that different than babysitting?”

“It’s an important job,” grandad said. “She’s searching for the next warder. Don’t take it trivially.” Roy moved to the door of his bedroom and beckoned Kylara to follow.

Uncle Don shrugged, then went back to fidgeting with the device in his lap. “Sounds like babysitting to me,” he muttered under his breath.

“What are you reading?” Kylara asked, ignoring her grandad’s movement and staying in place. She gesturing at the paper under Uncle Don’s manual, in his lap. It looked like a broadsheet, which wasn’t his usual reading material. It interested her.

Her uncle looked down at his lap. “Oh, it’s nothing too interesting. I picked it up this morning. Heard there was news, but Marge at the shop wouldn’t tell me what was going on unless I bought this off her,” he gestured at the broadsheet. “Woman knows how to run a business, I give her that.”

“News?” Kylara said.

“Saltsbury’s lost another shipment.”

“Again?” Roy asked his son.

“When?” Kylara asked.

“Two nights ago, it says.”

Roy frowned. “They are getting bolder. This is the second time this month.”

“Not just that,” Uncle Don said. “This was the first time someone was injured in the raid. They made it down okay, but it sounds bad. They’re waiting until they’re sure it’s safe before they get her to a healing country.”

“Who was it?” Kylara asked. If it was one of the thieves that was injured, maybe they could finally find out how they were doing it. Bring a stop to the nonsense.

“Not sure–” Uncle Don flipped the page. “Hm. It wasn’t a warbler–it was crew. One of the porters. Shame. Warrung might actually do something about it if it was a warbler.”

“They’ll do something either way,” Roy said. “This is a bad look for them.”

“It’s been almost two months and they’re still happening,” Don said. “If they were going to do something, they would have by now.”

Kylara frowned as a thought occurred to her. They might have tried and failed. Five years ago the most powerful city in the world failing at anything would be unheard of. But these days? Anything could happen.

“What was stolen?” she asked.

“Food, mostly. And some luxury items, whatever that means.” Don chuckled. “If this keeps up, we’ll have to go back to rationing.”

“Don’t joke about that,” Roy said sharply. He gave his son a flat look. Kylara wondered how many ties they had had this conversation. Talk of rationing was probably forbidden in the household, like it was in theirs.

Kylara looked away. “Does it say anything else?” she asked. “Details, like an eyewitness account or a description of the thieves?”

The newspaper accounts had been almost suspiciously lacking. It was almost like someone was deliberately holding back. It wasn’t like there was no public interest, either. People were concerned–if not in Kookaburra Creek, then definitely in Saltsbury. Saltsbury grew almost none of their own food. They imported it. If the robberies started seriously threatening their food supply or exports… well.

“Nah,” Uncle Don said, throwing the newspaper at her. “Nothing.” Kylara caught it, then flipped it over to read the headline. “Read it if you like. It doesn’t say much. Most of it is boring stuff about politics in Warrung.”

“Thanks.”

“Keep it. I already solved the little puzzle at the back. I can’t tell if the editors are getting lazier or if I am getting smarter, because it only took me five minutes.”

It is 100% the editors, Kylara thought, but didn’t say out loud. Not you. She had been to Saltsbury a month or two back. It had been news at the time one of the local newspaper editors had passed. He had done the puzzles. The new woman they got wasn’t nearly as clever, and it was blindingly obvious. She didn’t know how her uncle was only just now noticing.

Kylara carefully read the headline.

Hɪɢʜᴡᴀʏᴍᴇɴ Sᴛʀɪᴋᴇ Wᴀʀʀᴜɴɢ Sʜɪᴘᴍᴇɴᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ Dᴇᴀᴅ ᴏғ Nɪɢʜᴛ - Is Tʜᴇʀᴇ Nᴏᴡʜᴇʀᴇ Sᴀғᴇ?!

Typical sensationalism.

But still. It was bold of them to put the word Warrung in the headline. Kylara was surprised it was allowed. It lead to the obvious question–why, if Warrung was the most powerful empire in the world, were they getting something as simple as food stolen? The headline was an accusation.

Warrung was definitely going to do something now.

Or they were already doing something. That seemed more likely to her. They were just keeping quiet about it in case something went wrong. They probably didn’t know what was going on either.

Something was off there, although she was not sure what. Warblers never got attacked. Or rather, they never got attacked by humans. Attacking anyone on the songlines required planning, resources, and knowledge that normal thieves should not have.

Someone was out there, outwitting the warblers at their own jobs and stealing what seemed to be useless cargo. No wonder people were worried. It was just small shipments of food, but the implications were much more menacing.

Kylara sighed. She wished she could help, but she could not go chasing outlaws by herself. At least, not anymore.

She folded the broadsheet up and stuffed it in her pocket, assuring herself that the people in charge could handle it. The proper authorities.

But still. She’d read the broadsheets later just in case.

Something of it must have shown on her face, because her grandad gave her a disapproving look. “You seem to have got distracted,” he said.

Right. The entads.

Kylara gave a nod and joined her grandad in the other room. He shut the door quickly behind them. Then looked at her gravely.

“What happened out there?” he asked, the gravity of the question evident on his face. “You were on the ground…” he searched for the right word, then seemed to grasp it, “convulsing.”

“I’m not sure,” Kylara said. “Dhaligir assaulted me.”

“You mentioned. That wasn’t what I am asking about, though.”

Kylara sighed. “I think it is. I think Dhaligir used some sort of magic to incapacitate me.”

“What do you mean?”

“It wasn’t me–I’m almost certain of it. I think Dhaligir found some sort of entad. It all fits–I wasn’t just disoriented outside. It was the lights and the moon too.”

“What do you mean?”

“It was the local magic.”

“Butterflies?” Roy asked. Kookaburra Creek, despite its name, had no bird themed-magic. The sat under the butterfly warren, and their magic was shaped by the world above them. Like Saltsbury and salt, almost all the magic in Kookaburra Creek was themed around butterflies or other lepidopterans.

“I think it was moths,” Kylara said. Everyone knew that moths navigated using the light of the moon. It was why they got so confused at night by the torches and lamps, especially ones that were blue or white in colour (the town had switched from warm orange to the more modern white-blue, then had to switch back when they had discovered that little tidbit. It had caused quite a bit of drama in the Council a few years back. Drama and money).

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

It was very possible that an entad could have caused the effect–navigate like a moth. It was rare, but some could play mind games on you like that.

Dhaligir in the possession of dangerous, rare magic? She shuddered.

“Do you have any evidence?” Roy asked. There was no skepticism in his voice, just interest. “Do you know what kind of entad it is?”

Kylara thought for a second. “I think so,” she said, “when he confronted me, the entire time he was holding this hair clip in his left hand. I thought it was an odd thing to be carrying around, especially considering he’s got short hair, but I didn’t say anything until things got more heated. Then I asked him about it, and he got defensive. Really defensive. Said it was a family thing. Then he started gripping it really aggressively, like a finger on a pistol. So I thought he would try to use it as a weapon. Hit me with it or something. Hairclips are quite sharp, you know? But then he pulled out a knife so that theory makes no sense because a knife would be a better thing to grip if you were feeling insecure and needed a weapon–” she shut up as she looked at her grandad’s horrified look.

Oh, she thought. This is the first time I’m telling him about the knife, isn’t it?

It took a second for him to get his voice working. “He pulled a knife on you?” he eventually choked out.

“Yeah,” Kylara said, shifting in her seat. “Yeah. He did.” She really, probably should have mentioned that earlier. Or not at all.

“Is that where you got that cut?” He reached out and gently touched the side of her cheek.

“No,” Kylara said, “I got that somewhere else. My wrist, on the other hand, that was him.”

“Let me see.”

She reluctantly held out her hand. Roy took it in his own and examined it closely. He ran his hand over the back of her wrist. When he touched the part of her skin that was beginning to bruise, she sucked in a small breath. It had been bleeding fairly heavily before, but it had already stopped. Warders healed fast.

When he finished looking at it, he looked up. “This will leave a scar,” he said.

“I know,” she sighed. She really had been hoping it wouldn’t. Her arms were enough of an eyesore as it was.

“Oh, Kya,” he said, shaking his head. “Turn around.”

Kylara reluctantly did. She understood, but still. The lack of trust hurt a bit, although it was completely warranted.

“Hold out your arms.”

She did. He looked her over closely, clearly not trusting that she would disclose any other injuries.

When she turned back around, she smiled at him, both to show him that she was fine and to hide her slightly puffy cheek. She thought he caught it anyway, because something flickered in his eyes.

Neither of them said anything for a long moment.

“How’s your right?” he asked after a minute. Kylara sighed, then answered. He was only asking because any injury on her right arm would not be visible. It bled white, the same colour as her skin there.

“It’s fine,” she said. “See?” She quickly held her arm out, then pt it down before he grabbed onto it. “I was actually trying to angle my body to get hit there. Less noticeable and all. But he was right handed. He didn’t even bother to punch me with his left, he was too busy holding that hair clip. A shame, really. It’s not like my right side would scar. Or even hurt much.”

They really need to start teaching proper punching technique in class again, Kylara thought. Clearly the current method wasn’t working well. Dhaligir’s show of it was… not good.

Roy sighed. “You shouldn’t test it, Kya. We should get you to a healer.”

“I feel fine.”

He stood up. “We can go to Wawiriya if you want. We don’t need to go to Imla.”

Wawiriya knew healing? That was news to her.

“No, really. I’m fine,” Kylara said. She did not stand up. “Frankly, Dhaligir needs a healer more than me,” she continued, “I already went to Imla about it. I think I broke his leg.”

Her grandad pulled back. “You broke his leg?” he blinked.

“With a rock.”

“Well,” he said. His face turned blank for a moment as he processed the information too. Then he shrugged. “Well,” he said, “don’t ever let it be said that the Kunyjiris go down easy.”

“No,” Kylara smiled.

Her grandad smiled back, then burst into laughter. “So what’s this about an entad?” He said after a minute, after he had caught his breath. “You think a hairclip is why you collapsed?”

“I thought the lamp was one of the moons,” Kylara said. “That is pretty telling, I’d say.”

“It is,” he nodded in agreement. “Is that all? Or were there any other effects?”

Kylara shook her head, “That was the main one,” she said. “I just felt so dizzy and disorientated. Just drawn to the light, you know? Like a moth to a flame, but literally. If that’s not the mark of an entad then I don’t know what is.”

“You’re right, it does seem likely.”

Entads were one form the local magic could manifest. They were items with unique magical properties. Every country had them, although no one knew for sure how they got there or why. Sometimes they literally just appeared from thin air. Others were everyday items that gradually got empowered. There were even rumours that the Wanderers could craft custom entads from nothing, although like most facts about the Wanderers, no one knew for certain.

Saltsbury had a famous entad in the form of a giant salt crystal. They kept it in a park in the centre of the city. Bizarrely, it only appeared on even numbered days of the week. On odd days, it simply vanished. No one knew where it went, only that, like clockwork it would disappear and like clockwork, it would return.

There did not seem to be a universal pattern among entads, either in how they worked, what they looked like, or why they came to be. Some were interesting, some were bizarre, and some, very rarely, were actually useful. They were trinkets, more than anything. Curiosities. The weakest type of local magic but also the most diverse.

Her grandad sighed. “We’ll have to confiscate it. It doesn’t seem too dangerous, but you can never be sure. You said you sent Imla after him?”

“I did.”

Fuck. She hadn’t known to warn Imla about the entad at the time. She hoped she was okay.

Roy frowned, understanding the expression on his granddaughter’s face. “It’s probably too late now, but I’m sure she’ll be fine. It didn’t do any lasting harm to you after all.”

But I break less easily, Kylara thought, but nodded.

Imla would probably be fine. She doubted Dhaligir held a grudge against Imla like he did against her. Everyone liked Imla.

Roy scratched his head. “Why did he attack you anyway? Dhaligir’s always been a bit of a troublemaker, but a knife…”

“I wanted to talk to you about that, actually,” Kylara said, sitting on the bed and rubbing the sheet. “The fire hit him harder than I thought, grandad. He lost everything. He’s not in a good place, and he directed that anger at me.”

Her grandfather stood up and walked around the room, then peered out to the road outside. He opened his mouth once, closed it, then tried again. “I’m sorry, Kya,” he said, “I thought this might happen.”

Kylara frowned. Was he talking in the general sense, or did he know about Dhaligir specifically? She hoped it was the former, but suspected the later.

“You knew about his family?” she asked.

“I did. Maybe not to this extent, but they asked the Council for permission to leave last Wrestday. They wanted assistance on some things, help with the move.” He looked at her in sympathy. “It wasn’t an official meeting, just an informal session.”

And I wasn’t there, Kylara thought. If it had been a formal session, she would have been required to be present. The kept doing that, conducting business without her. Getting around the rules while she couldn’t.

“You can't blame yourself for what happened. You did nothing wrong.”

Kylara smiled a bit brittlely. “Didn’t I?” she said, looking at her lap.

“I’m being serious, Kya. Don’t blame yourself. Not when there’s so many other factors at work. Promise me you’ll try.”

“You should have told me,” she said.

“I did what I thought was best. You have other matters to deal with.”

“Like?”

“Like choosing the next warder,” he said seriously.

Kylara looked down at the sheet on the bed. It was wrinkled. It never used to be. Grandad had stopped making the bed everyday ever since his wife had passed. Kylara smoothed the sheet out a bit in memory of her Nan.

“There’s another thing,” she said. “I think there’s another entad, besides the one Dhaligir has. I was actually just coming to tell you about it when he attacked me. It’s by the creek.”

And if the magsman, presumably, also had one to summon the butterflies… three new entads at once was unprecedented.

At present, Kookaburra Creek only had six. Six magic items discovered over its centuries of occupation. And now, in one day, they had perhaps doubled the number. It was a bit worrying. She felt like the amount of magic in one spot should not almost double without a reason, but maybe that was how the world worked.

“What was it?” Roy asked.

“I’m not sure. It was like a display. Hundreds, maybe even thousands of moths, all arranged in a circular pattern. It was weird, grandad. Really weird. Almost unsettling.”

“It could be nothing,” Roy said. “I remember when I was first taught the summoning, I did something like that. A creature just appearing in your hand–it was such a neat trick. I tried it a hundred times until Wawiriya made me clean the whole thing up. I exhausted the novelty of that pretty quickly.”

“No,” Kylara said. “This wasn’t a kid. The pattern was too circular, it was almost geometric. The entire thing was too neat to be natural. Unless the kid was a warder” –and wow, would that be a surprise– “it would be impossible to make.”

“I can take a look,” her grandad said. He strummed his fingers against the window sill. “How about this, I’ll have a talk to the other elders tonight and we’ll go there and take a look. I’ll bring Wawiriya with us. Then, if we think we need to do something, we’ll figure something out. Don’t worry too much about it before then. Frankly, I am more worried about Dhaligir. He can’t run around assaulting people, especially with a entad that has not been tested yet. For all we know, it can have much worse effects than you saw today.”

“The Council?” Kylara said. The Council would not be lenient.

Gods Dhaligir, she thought, why couldn’t you have attacked anyone else? You had to go for the only warder in town.

She felt irrationally angry at him. Attacking someone was one thing. Attacking someone when you clearly had not thought it through was a completely other matter. Stupid, stupid Dhaligir.

“His family situation seems really delicate,” Kylara said, trying to keep the anger out of her voice in case her grandad misinterpreted it, “his parents are moving, and I think he is having trouble with his sister. If the Council punishes him too harshly, it might make him even more unstable.

“Perhaps,” he agreed. “But there are way to deal with things like this. Using unknown, untested magic to hurt people? Especially the town warder? Those are two of the most serious crimes you can commit.”

“I know,” Kylara said. “I just feel bad for him. If you can maybe phrase it gently when you bring it up, see if we”– but really you, they won’t listen to me – “can influence a more minor punishment for him…”

“I can try,” he said. He looked at her hand. “But he did attack you, Kya. Don’t get wrapped up in your own guilt. What he did was not justified or acceptable in anyway.”

“I know,” she said. “But still, try for me, will you?” She smiled at him.

He sighed. “I can try. But I worry about you, you know.”

“You don’t need to.”

“I’m your grandfather, Kya. It’s my job to worry about you.” He paused, then, “I talked to Malyun this morning,” he said.

Kylara stopped smiling. “Oh,” she said. “How bad is it?”

Her grandfather laughed. “For me or for you?” he said. “She still doesn’t seem to mind me, despite our relation. Mostly she wanted to talk about money. If we don’t get another warder soon, she’s under the impression the entire town will go bankrupt.” Kylara clenched her jaw at that. Malyun really would use any excuse, wouldn’t she? Kylara did not believe she actually cared about finances, or even knew anything about them. She wasn’t even that good at maths. “She’s trying to get others to take action against you,” he said, “although they are thankfully being reluctant.”

“What actions could she even take?” Kylara grumbled. “It’s my responsibility to choose a new warder, not hers. Whatever she wants to do, it’s not going to get her what she wants any faster.”

“Indirect ones,” her grandad said. “Be careful. She’s the kind of person who believes only the correct people should have power in the correct ways, and unfortunately for you, she has a very narrow definition of who is in that category and who isn’t.”

“I know,” Kylara nodded. She got up to go. Her grandad was right, Malyun was a threat. She couldn’t stay in here all day. She needed to at least look like she was working if Malyun was putting up a gossip on the Council. And when she had collapsed in the middle of the day, it was best to spend the day being seen.

“One last thing, Kya,” her grandad said. “Where was the other entad?”

“It was by the last marker,” Kylara said. “On the rocks of the creek.

He froze. “Why were you by the border?”

“I was looking for Billy, but–”

“Oh Kya,” he closed his eyes, and Kylara got the awful feeling he was blaming himself. “I’ve told you children to not go there. The Desert is dangerous.”

“I know, I know,” Kylara said.

But admittedly, I never said I would listen.