Naeemah’s flowing green dress reverted to the black leathers I’d grown to associate her with whenever we met. She lifted the brunette beneath the arm and dragged her away from the gate. Only two girls in the Third Shell had dared linger to watch the encounter, and Zahra had moved to warn them away.

Forcing our way in had been precisely what we’d wanted to avoid. Ravyn had warned that Cailu’s plan would lead to this, but now that it hung out in the open, I couldn’t find a reason to protest. Tristan’s outburst had really solidified just how damn hard we’d worked to see Magni since we’d arrived. If the Ejderha couldn’t see reason and wouldn’t acknowledge brute strength, then we’d have to convince them otherwise.

I looked at the girls, expecting any one of them to protest Cailu’s declaration. Keke caught my eye and shook her head, silently answering my question. Ceres and Destiny were busy checking the guards’ wounds. Ravyn had positioned herself as far away from Cailu as she could manage, leaning against the inner tunnel wall with her arms folded while Ball nuzzled her hair. Lara drew something vaguely resembling a butterfly in the sand with her finger. Cannoli’s gaze was locked on Kirti, a fury I had never seen before burning within.

“Hey, Cannoli.” I touched her arm, hoping to draw her attention away from the [Witch Doctor].

“Do not ask me to ignore what she does,” Cannoli hissed. Her ears lay flat against her head, and her tail was tucked between her legs. “Her Spells are sacrilege. Blasphemous. She traps and uses souls, Matt.”

“I gathered that,” I murmured. “No one can tell you how to feel about it. But maybe we can hold off on a confrontation until after we get this summit over with?”

Cannoli’s jaw worked, and her fingers clenched in her hands. Her eyes darted to Kirti, then back to me. “I…” She lowered her voice and turned her body until she faced the opposite of Cailu’s Party. “I’ve never felt like this, Matt.”

I brushed her back with the tips of my fingers, afraid that too much contact would send her reeling. “I don’t think I have, either. So I’m not the best person for advice right now.”

She nodded slowly, then raised both hands to her face and exhaled into her palms. “I want to go home.” Her voice was muffled through her fingers, but the words were clear enough.

“Yeah, me too.”

Cailu waved an arm, catching my attention, then pointed down the tunnel.

I responded with a wave of my own. On to stage two. “We’re almost there, Cannoli. Then we can go to Abalone together.”

I’d hoped to win even a little bit of a smile, but she flinched at the city name. “Hm.” She glanced over her shoulder, eyes resting on the [Witch Doctor] again. “I’ll try my best.”

“That’s all I can ask. Tell me if there’s anything I can do to help, okay?”

She nodded, then moved to Keke’s side. Keke shot me a worried look before striking up a quiet conversation with Cannoli. Ceres joined them soon after, and the tension in Cannoli’s shoulders began to ease.

I jogged to where Cailu and Tristan had pulled ahead of the group. Kirti and Naeemah stood close behind; the [Assassin] with her blades unsheathed and her mask pulled over her face.

“How long before Sanrai comes looking for us, do you think?” I asked no one in particular.

“Should word reach her, I think she’ll stop us in the First Shell,” Tristan replied. “It’s likely that no one in the Third Shell will report the Ejderha down. Not even the guards.”

“No?”

“People will oft turn a blind eye if it is in their favor,” Cailu said. He’d retrieved the Chikara head, though I wondered if that would do us any good farther in. “These miscreants that call themselves Ejderha, per your reports, have tortured and oppressed those in the Third Shell. It is more likely they will wake with empty pockets.”

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

I wanted to protest that they didn’t deserve it. But as we stepped through the corridor into the Second Shell, I held my tongue. Of course, they do. They lived in paradise while the rest of the city was forced to squalor.

Three girls wandering the clean walkways caught sight of us. Their eyes widened, and mouths gaped. They gawked at our group for the span of a few heartbeats before turning tail and running to the nearest building.

“You don’t think Sanrai will grab us here?” I asked. “What if we’re here to burn the place down?”

“You already had that chance, and you didn’t take it,” Naeemah growled. “Their strongest forces will be at the palace.”

“I don’t want any more violence. We shouldn’t need to resort to taking lives for our own gains,” Tristan said.

Silken curtains snapped closed on the houses we passed. Someone shouted for help from far off, and silence was their only reply.

“Our own gains?” Cailu sneered. “What of this island, boy? What of the thousands of others suffering your bleeding heart seeks to defend? You have the intelligence; now summon the mettle. Otherwise, stay out of my way.”

And the winner for the most back-handed compliment of the year goes to…

Tristan’s face went red, and his eyes dropped to the ground.

I thought of Tristan standing up to Celestia on his own. Facing the horrors on Shi Island and taking full responsibility for its future. “You’re not giving him enough credit, Cailu. He’s a lot stronger than you think.”

“Then prove it,” Cailu barked. “Both of you.”

The finality of his words kept me silent. Pushing any harder now would be like poking an angry dog. We were all frustrated as hell and tired of Rājadhānī. The sooner this was over, the better.

Only one guard stood at the gate between the Second and First Shell. She leaned against the stone wall, arms folded across her chest as she watched our approach. Her silver hair was cropped short in the back, but her bangs fell down to her shoulders. Smooth, bronzed skin without a single scar or blemish peeked out from her loose attire. Leather pauldrons and faulds were her only armor, surrounded by sheer silks and fabrics that wouldn’t provide much cover in a fight.

“Huh. There’s more of you than we thought,” the guard said, sizing us up one by one with her yellow gaze. Her eyes fell on the Chikara’s head, and a wry smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Nice trophy. Too bad killing it was the wrong choice.”

“Why’s that?” Keke asked, stepping up to my side.

“That thing made it harder to escape the city. Scared the girls out of their minds.” She smacked her lips and shrugged. “Ah, well, what’s done is done.”

I frowned. Who wants to lose free labor?

“Let us into the First Shell,” Cailu demanded. No more niceties from him, it seemed.

“Oh, yeah, go on in.” The guard jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “They’re itching to meet you.”

Naeemah’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said.” She lifted her spear from the wall, twirled it once in her palms, then slammed the butt into the sand. “I’m not your problem.”

“Then why the other two Ejderha at the last gate?” Tristan pointed behind him. “They wouldn’t budge.”

“I’m just the messenger. Take your questions to the woman in charge.” With one last jerk of her thumb down the unblocked corridor, she sighed and circled around our group. “Enjoy your stay.”

“What an interesting turn of events,” Kirti noted, watching the guard leave.

“I don’t like this,” I heard Naeemah hiss to Cailu.

“Nor do I.” Cailu threw the Chikara’s head to the side, then summoned his sword and shield.

“All we can do is keep going,” Tristan murmured. “Finish what we started.”

“Yeah. Let’s stay on our guard.” I followed Cailu’s example, calling my axe and shield to my hands.

We made our way through the torch-lit corridor, weapons at the ready. Keke, Naeemah, and Kirti’s ears rotated in frantic directions, and I found myself squinting into the dim lighting. Dammit. I can’t really help out here.

Just as the tunnel’s glowing outlet came into view, the torches went out, leaving us in pitch black. There was the sickening sound of flesh giving way to steel, then a scream. My heart skipped, and my breath caught. Cailu cursed beneath his breath.

“[Illuminate]!” Cannoli cried.

“[Holy Force]!” Cailu shouted simultaneously.

Lara fell to her knees, Sanrai’s blood-soaked spear pulling free from her shoulder. Her sanguine eyes glittered in the white lights of Cannoli’s staff and Cailu’s sword.

“You will never leave this place alive,” Sanrai snarled.

We were surrounded. By every last Ejderha left in Rājadhānī.

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