Garon felt like a doll. Or a toy. Or, no...a puppet. Mala held up his arm straight out to the side and took a half-step back.

“Is this sleeve really the right length, Jorah?” she said to the tailor.

Jorah stood with a mouthful of pins, peering at Garon as one might a broken bit of machinery, as though he was trying to to work out the source of some problem. He wiggled his pursed lips back and forth.

“We can’t have him looking like he’s wearing borrowed clothes.” Mala added.

“I am wearing borrowed clothes,” Garon couldn’t keep the impatience out of his voice.

“But it wouldn’t do for you to look like you’re borrowing.” Mala tutted. “Of course sometimes circumstances do not allow for new clothes to be made for an event, everyone knows that. Nevertheless, you just can’t show up to a ball at the King’s palace in a garment that doesn’t look like it was expressly made for that purpose.”

“You can’t?” By now Garon was pleading a little. They had been dressing him up like a doll for hours. His feet were already tired from working at the docks and he hadn’t expected getting dressed to be physically taxing. “Everyone knows I’m a country bumpkin, Mala. Won’t they be disappointed if I don’t look the part a little?”

“Everyone knows you are my brother,” Mala said. “And that’s the part you’re going to look.”

Garon didn’t argue anymore while the tailor ducked back into the other room to fetch another rack of garments. Eventually they found one with the right length sleeves, as well as all the other “rights” that made it suitable for the brother-in-law of the Lord of the Desert. Garon was relieved to finally be done, but then Mala began moaning over the state of Garon’s hair, and the tailor was sent to find someone who could properly groom him.

The dressing room where they had been cooped up for the last hours was surprisingly roomy for a completely extraneous room in quarters as necessarily limited as those of Useph’s--admittedly large and impressive--boat. Garon worried the staff must be sleeping stacked like cordwood to free up the space. The walls were hung with thick velvet and there was an embroidered screen behind which Garon had sometimes been allowed to retreat while changing clothes. He hadn’t always done it right, and had been forced to don some garments with Mala and the tailor’s assistance. Mala tutted and teased him for pinning this wrong and putting that on backwards. There were also two large cloth-covered chairs in the side of the room opposite the changing screen. Mala had often sat in one of these when Garon was modeling an outfit, although she inevitably jumped up for a more hands-on assessment. Mala was not one for sitting still. Apparently the ordeal had tired her somewhat, because she flopped into one of the chairs as soon as the tailor left the room. She lounged with style, flinging her legs, peeking out from her layers of skirts, over the arm to lounge sideways across it. She gestured for her brother to take the other.

“They’re very comfortable,” she said. “You look tired. We might as well rest while we wait.”

Garon sat down in the chair, much more stiffly than Mala had, but his muscles immediately relaxed despite his tension and he settled back against the soft fabric. It was very comfortable. “Is this why you wanted to be rich? I hadn’t thought of this advantage,” he said to his twin. “You get comfortable furniture.”

“Oh, the wealthy are all about comfort.” Mala smiled. “So much money is spent on being comfortable, it would spin your head around. And the baths!” She trailed a finger in the soft fabric. It left behind a line of misaligned fibers, and she smoothed it back down. “Well, it’s not all about comfort. I’m sure you noticed.”

“The clothes.”

“Yes, those are not comfortable at all,” Mala agreed with a little shake of her head. “But if you are only going to sit in comfortable chairs and not spend all day bent over a millstone, comfortable clothes aren’t as necessary. The nightclothes, however. My, oh my! Have you ever worn silk?”

“The stuff from worms?” Garon said.

Mala laughed. “Worms!” she said. She dug into her skirt and pulled out a daintily embroidered pink square of shining fabric and tossed it to her brother. “Try that!”

Garon caught the fabric and ran it through his fingers. It was slick as metal but soft, so soft. He had no words for its texture. He tried to imagine what it might feel like to have a whole garment made from the stuff. Luxury he’d never dreamed of, and that his sister had always wanted. She now had it. “What is this?”

“That’s my silk hankie,” she said.

Garon immediately switched his grip to a single corner pinched between thumb and forefinger. “Used?” he asked.

Mala shrugged, and Garon threw the hankie at her. She tucked it back into her pocket.

“You’re disgusting.”

Mala laughed. “I could tell you liked it. But it’s nothing to what you’ll see at the palace tonight. The King loves silk; the exotic goods from Halack are his favorites. No one else can afford them like he can, and he likes them not to forget it. Of course, everyone always tries to show off what they do have, as though that would gain his favor.” She shook her head and swung her legs back to the ground. Her hands gripped her knees white-knuckled and she leaned forward toward Garon, her face alive with intensity. “I’ve gone a different direction, and he seems to appreciate it. He thinks I’m wonderful, really. What I thought was, why pretend to be as rich as the king when you can be the absolute best of what you genuinely are? And that’s what I do. It’s about class.”

Garon blinked at her. “Genuine? Mala, you’re a miller’s daughter.”

“I never deny it,” she said haughtily. “It’s part of my charm. But that’s not all I am. I am a very wealthy lady, wife of the lord of the desert. And I show it.”

He almost didn’t say anything. It couldn’t change anything. Mala was committed to this life, and all he could do by questioning it was to make her unhappy. But he had to say something. She would be leaving so soon, and she deserved to know.

“Last time I was here,” he said carefully. “There was a man leaving the boat at the same time as me.”

“So?” Mala said. “Many people come and go.”

“Of course,” Garon said. “But this man wasn’t one of your party guests.”

“Businessman, no doubt. That is why we have stayed so long in Laed. My lord’s business.”

“I’m sure it was a businessman,” Garon said. “But, Mala, listen to me. This wasn’t the sort of businessman you probably think of Useph-”

“Lord Useph,” Mala interrupted sharply. This was already not going well. She could tell he was trying to upset her perfect world, and she was getting defensive.

“Lord Useph,” Garon amended. “This man is shady. My boss Tan won’t work with him, or the people he works with. And I saw him...well, he passed a bribe to the dockmaster. And I’m almost certain it was for Lord Useph.”

Mala pressed her lips into a thin hard line. She looked angry, but Garon could see it, a little uncertainty in her eyes, the hint of fear. She never liked to show it, but he’d been able to tell since they were children when she was nervous.

“Garon, my Lord’s business is none of yours,” she said. “You’d be better off staying out of it. If you’re worried about me, don’t be. There are different rules for people like my Lord. He won’t be in trouble. And I’m a favorite of the King.”

There was a knock on the door.

“There’s your stylist,” Mala said, rising to her feet. “I must be getting ready, as well. We will meet on deck when we are dressed. Put this business out of your mind. We’re going to a party!”

Garon swallowed hard and forced a smile at his sister. “See you soon.”

~

It was really too light still for the Firebrand to be running along the rooftops, but Kiri was too impatient to wait any longer. She stayed crouched and low, hoping that keeping her profile close to the roofs would make up for the fact that her black clothes would stand out against the still-blue sky. Her impatience wasn’t because she was excited to get to her work as the Firebrand for the night. It was more that she couldn’t wait to be done with it. Kiri was bored of keeping an eye on Tagg. She almost hoped he would step out of line so she could zap him a little. He was such a piggish bully, and here she found herself in the position of trying to save him.

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There was a tall gnarled tree which had long ago taken root in a neglected section of the wall, growing crookedly toward the light.. Kiri had found in her few weeks’ experimentation the tree was the easiest way to get up and over the wall. There were foot- and hand- holds to be had in the stones of the wall itself. It wasn’t completely smooth, but the tree gave her a nice easy head start on the first two thirds of the wall. The last little bit had a trick to it as well. A gargoyle's foot, and the lip of the wall itself, allowed her to pull herself onto the top of. Still staying tight to the wall to avoid being spotted, Kiri spider climbed down the outer stones. No tricks to this side, but the spaces between the stones were a little more weatherworn, and Kiri had never had any trouble with the climb.

The Outside was still abuzz with activity. The roofs were low enough amid the shacks that she was bound to be noticed running along the top of them. To many of the Outsiders she was becoming a legend. There might even be children who watched the rooftops for the Firebrand, and it was doubtful they would just quietly let her go about her business. She did not want a ruckus right now. So, instead of going into the Outside, Kiri skirted around it, sticking to the wild edges where the land met habitation until she had circled around near the Outsider’s warehouse.

By that time it was dark enough that she felt the Firebrand might go unnoticed creeping in the shadows. Quickly, but without running, Kiri moved from one dark eave to another until she paused just as the warehouse came into view. Her intention had been to climb up onto a nearby roof and take up her vigil for a few hours, as had become her custom since Tagg had offered himself as bait, but something was wrong. Normally she could see the glow of lights through the cracks of the windows, but now they were dark, black holes in the face of the building. She circled around the warehouse, staying far enough away that she shouldn’t be seen by any guards Tagg may have set, until she was looking right at the front door.

It wasn’t there. Splinters of wood lay on the stones before it. The doorway was a black hole into the dark building, just like the windows. There was a sharp smell in the air--the scent of old blood. Kiri’s hands balled into fists, and heat gathered in her palm. All her regret and annoyance at helping Tagg collapsed in an instant into guilt. She had not been here when she was needed. The Enforcer had come. Her feet almost ran forward without her telling them to, she took two steps, but then caution reminded her to check the shadows and rooftops all around. Spotting nothing but twilit silence, she slowly moved in toward what had been the Outsider’s headquarters.

The first body lay just inside the door. Her foot landed on it when she stepped over the broken bits of wood. She pulled it back as if it burned and then dug around with her toes to find a clear section of floor she could step onto. Her second foot followed the first, testing before planting on the floor so she wouldn’t end up standing on somebody. Her feet were tough and calloused from running on rough rooftops, but she still had to be careful to avoid the splintered wood as much as the bodies. Taking a deep breath and reminding herself to stay calm, she squatted down beside the body.

It was one of the boys who had been with Tagg when he made his deal with the bold street girl. His face was unmarred, but one arm was a bloody stump and his throat and chest had long ragged slashes, and his belly-it was empty. A wet, amorphous mound caught the light from the shadows nearby and made Kiri swallow hard. It reminded her of the neat piles of guts Ani’s cats would leave behind when they ate a bird or mouse. Kiri jerked upright and turned away, but that left her looking into the yawning darkness that was the rest of the warehouse. Her imagination raced, giving her vivid images of what might be waiting there. She wanted to run away. It was too late; she couldn’t save them now. But she had to check to see if anyone had survived here. If they had, they needed her help. And she had to see what the Enforcer and his dogs had done. She owed Tagg that for not having been here. She would see what the Enforcer had done, and then stop him from ever doing it again.

The rest of the warehouse was as grisly as Kiri had feared. The loft was the last room she checked. The two youngest boys she had seen yet were there, probably from the latest harvest. Had they ever even done anything wrong? Certainly nothing to deserve this, to be torn apart by beasts and left to rot.

As she moved from body to body in the warehouse, Kiri kept remembering that she had set all this in motion, by stopping the Outsiders from taking Colin. But how could she have not done that? Even if she’d known the consequences, could she have just let them take him? Still, she cursed herself for never having ever left them alone here once Tagg told her they were in danger. Making it to class and her work were not more important than saving lives.

Kiri came down the loft ladder one handed, carrying a scrounged lantern in the other. Without it, she never could have been sure, but she was sure now. She had searched every corner of this place and Tagg was not here.

The table that had stood at the bottom of the loft the last time she was here was now broken in half, the two halves collapsed to the center. The floor was bloody and littered with debris, so Kiri looked for someplace else to set the lantern down and extinguish it. She didn’t want to carry the light out. There wasn’t likely to be anyone outside, but in the dark of night that had now fully fallen they wouldn’t have to be all that close to notice her light.

She found a chair that was still intact, just lying on its side, and stood it up and set the lantern on its seat. She turned the knob to bring the flame low then leaned in and blew out the final flicker.

Kiri froze. In the darkness she could see them, three sets of red eyes looking right at her.

They were in a line at the far end of the building, although it was hard to tell the exact distance. She had no doubt they knew exactly where she was, even though she knew her eyes would not be giving her away like theirs did. They must have been watching while she extinguished the lamp, but how long before that? If they had just been waiting until she turned the light out, why weren’t they moving now? They stayed steadily, unnervingly, still.

Kiri considered turning the light back on, but she didn’t need it to see them, and she still didn’t want to have it when she went outside. Instead she straightened slowly, hoping they couldn’t see her moving--although the fact that their eyes glowed in the dark probably meant they could see like cats. She took two careful steps backward. There was a window behind her. The wisest course of action might be to flee. There was no way out ahead without confronting the owners of the red eyes, and she knew exactly what they could do to her. She’d seen their work enough today to know that.

She risked looking away from the eyes to glance out the window she was edging towards. Looking right back at her from outside the building was another pair of red eyes, and beside it the dark-shrouded form of a man. She was surrounded. Well, she had prepared for this. Sort of.

Kiri ran toward the line of eyes. If she could lure them to all reach her at around the same time, that would be best. It took a little while to build the fire, and the more she could get at once, the better. The mess that was the interior of the warehouse grew clearer, lit redly by a steadily increasing glow in her hand. It made it easier for Kiri to find sure footing. When she reached the center of the building Kiri dug in her heels and crouched at the ready. Her whole arm ached with the waiting fire in her palm.

For a few moments, none of the eyes moved, and then, from the man behind her, there was a high three-note whistle and they all surged forward at once.

They were dogs, or wolves, but bigger than both, and their fur stood out away from their bodies more like a bear’s, and it looked black, all black. They moved fast, closing on Kiri, but she was ready. She shoved her hand into the ground and the energy surged out from her, a spreading circle of light and heat, the air swirling at the leading edge in a sudden wind. It hit the table and chairs behind her with a sound of crashing and cracking wood. The dogs reversed direction faster than Kiri had thought possible. Only the one who had come through the window behind her gave a loud yelp and fell under the advancing wave. By the time the wave reached the edge of the building, the pressure of it causing splinters and cracks to open all along the walls, the other beasts were gone. Kiri straightened from her crouch in the undisturbed center of the destruction. The walls were wavering and creaking, even though the wave of power had faded. She had no time to check to see if the fallen beast was dead. Full out, with only a little care for the debris-littered floor, she ran for the open doorway. If the dogs were waiting for her there, she would deal with them when she got there. The building was falling.

There were no beasts waiting at the door. The dogs’ master had fled, too, or at least she saw no sign of him. Kiri moved far enough away that she didn’t think anything was likely to hit her and turned to watch the building collapse. It twisted as it fell, splintering along its sides. The front wall fell in nearly a single piece across the broken pile that was the rest of the building.

Kiri bent over to catch her breath. She was more winded than the short run should have made her. Apparently expending that much power was its own form of exercise. Somewhere along the way, gasping turned to giggling. “I meant to do that.” she said.

“No way that’s true.”

Kiri jumped and whirled, searching for the source of that small voice. What was wrong with her tonight? How could she allow people to sneak up on her like this? It was going to get her killed.

“Colin!” she gasped, because there he was, crouching on the back stoop of a nearby building and staring wide-eyed at what used to be the Outsider’s headquarters. “What are you doing here?”

“I knew you would come here,” Colin said. “Since Tagg said you had promised to help him, I thought you were sure to show up.”

“Tagg said?” Kiri was completely confused that the boy had talked to the Outsider she’d been trying to protect him from. But did that mean Tagg was alive? “Why are you talking to Tagg?”

“He’s at my house,” Colin said. “He thought it would be the best way to make contact with you. He said he couldn’t come back here because the Enforcer would be looking for him and would be sure to find him here. But the Enforcer isn’t looking for me.”

“You still shouldn’t have come; it was too dangerous,” Kiri said. “Tagg was right that I would’ve found him at your house. I probably would have gone there next. But I am angry he dragged your family into this.”

“The Enforcer won’t figure that out,” Colin said. “And I’ve been careful. I saw you go in, but when I saw the Enforcer come, I didn’t go any closer. I’m not going to just get myself killed for no reason.”

“It’s a relief that you at least insist on a reason,” Kiri said.

“Well, you handled him without me,” Colin said. “Except you let him get away.”

“Sorry.”

“His dogs are huge!” Colin’s eyes were wide, and he seemed to have forgotten they were meant to be speaking quietly. “I’d heard, but I mean, wow!”

“Let’s get going.” Kiri sighed. “You said Tagg was at your home. And be quiet. We don’t want anyone to notice us.”

“Well then I should go up on the roof with you.” He climbed up onto the porch railing and reached for the eaves. His foot slipped a little and Kiri put a hand on his back to steady him.

Kiri glared up at him and he grinned back. He had a point. She didn’t have a dress to change into, and she didn’t want him walking alone.

“Fine,” she said, grunting as Colin used her shoulder to plant his foot and push himself up onto the roof. “Let’s go.”