“Oh, you’re not dead,” Gillow says when we step through their doors. They grin from behind the counter, showing off all their shark teeth. “Given all the exciting rumors I’ve been hearing, I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

Ignoring the barbs, I stride up to the counter and take out the crystal.

“Adayenig’s luck,” they breathe, reaching out for the crystal. “You actually did it.”

I pull the arcana crystal back. “They sound surprised,” I say to Zyneth. “Strange. It is like they had reason to believe we would be captured.”

“Yes, it does seem that way,” Zyneth says. “Almost as if they’ve sent people before us, who were taken by Yedzaquib and mined for intelligence.”

“You found Ossina, then?” Gillow asks brightly. “Did you free her? She was a great asset.”

I swear I can hear Zyneth’s blood pressure rising.

“If you want the crystal, let us discuss the terms,” I say, cutting in. “We have little time to waste lingering in the city while Yedzaquib recovers.”

“It would be a shame to waste time,” Gillow says, looking my new attire up and down with amusement. “But we’ve already agreed on the terms.”

“I am proposing an update,” I say.

“Oh?” Gillow is still grinning as if they enjoy this game. “And what makes you think you have any leverage to alter our bargain?”

“Because now I have the crystal,” I say. “And I do not have to give it to you. I could walk out this door and sell it to the first buyer—I am sure Zyneth is aware of who your competitors are. It would make a small fortune. I could pay for someone else to take us to Emrox.”

“Good luck with that,” Gillow says. “No one else still living has visited the Ruins and returned.”

“I am sure I could find someone,” I say. “Especially when I let them know I am a void mage.”

I wait for Gillow to call my bluff. They’re right that they’re the only one qualified to take us. If they say no, we’ll have no one else to turn to. But I’m counting on their greed.

Gillow sits back. “What do you have in mind?”

I don’t let my relief show in my body language: I’m still playing the negotiator. “You release Zyneth from his debts now,” I say. “Before we leave, not after we get back.” It’s the only way to guarantee he escapes their control when I’m gone.

Gillow narrows their eyes at me for a long moment. Then they laugh. “You know it’s really hard to stare you down without any eyes. Alright, I’ll do it. Zyneth?”

Zyneth cautiously steps forward, glancing between me and Gillow. He seems skeptical of Gillow’s cooperation, and I don’t blame him. Carefully, Zyneth rolls up his sleeve.

Wordlessly, Gillow flicks a finger toward his arm, and the snake tattoo leaps from his skin. Once more the ink reforms itself, this time into the shape of a contract. Gillow reaches a claw out to the paper, and in one deft swipe, tears the page in two. The contract disintegrates into lines of magic, and then even those burn up, flickering like embers until there’s nothing left at all. In a moment, it’s completely gone. Zyneth stares down at his arm as if he can’t believe it: Where there had previously been three brands, now there are only two.

“Well, that’s settled,” Gillow says brightly. “What next?”

Zyneth lets out a breath as he rolls his sleeve back down, looking up at Gillow with a sharp glare. “That was foolish. I’ve no incentive to help you now.”

Gillow laughs, their voice tinkling like windchimes. “You’re far too honorable for that. No incentive? No. Now that I’ve held up my end of the bargain, you will feel obligated to hold up yours. Besides.” They flick a webbed hand in my direction. “You’re not about to leave the two of us alone on our trip, are you?”

I hate that they’re right. As much as I’d been trying to swing this whole encounter in Zyneth’s favor, it still feels like we’re playing right into Gillow’s hands. But there’s nothing I can say or do now that would convince Zyneth to stay behind.

When neither of us reply, Gillow’s snake-eyed gaze slides back over to me. “Well? Is there anything else, or can we get on with this?”

Reluctantly, I hand over the crystal. The predator stirs as I do so, and I brace, fearing it might fight me on this. However, it only watches with possessive irritation. I’m relieved it at least realizes fighting me would ultimately be futile, but I can’t shake the feeling it’s only biding its time.

“Excellent.” Gillow runs their hands along the flat edges of the stone, turning it this way and that, tilting it so it catches the light. “Not fully charged it seems, but at least over halfway. Maybe three quarters.”

“Eighty-two percent,” I can’t help but say, even as Echo corrects me that it’s actually eight-two point one six repeating.

Gillow’s eyes dance over me with amusement. “How precise. Yes, this will do fine. When do we leave? I should have the Prismatic ready to launch tonight.” Their tone is eager. It might be the first hint of genuine emotions they’ve actually expressed.

“Dawn, then,” Zyneth says. “We’ve preparations of our own to make for this journey. We’ll meet you at the shipyard.”

I have no idea what sort of preparations Zyneth has in mind, but I’m not about to object to the delay. One last evening to spend on land—on this world.

With Zyneth.

“Daybreak it is,” Gillow says. “Don’t be late.”

Zyneth turns to leave. “I never am.”

I follow him out the door, keeping my sight on Gillow as I turn my back. Their gaze flickers over the spell circle on my coat, and they smile, giving me a wink. I suppress a shiver as I step out of their shop and close the door behind me.

I turn to Zyneth. “So they are definitely up to something.”

“I assumed that went without saying.” He turns down a side street, away from the direction we’d come. “Probably intend to kill me.”

“What?” I cry.

“Now that the contract is severed, I serve no more purpose to them,” Zyneth says. “This mission is dangerous. I’m sure there will be plenty of opportunities for an accident.”

I guess I probably should have expected that, but the candidness with which Zyneth is discussing his own potential murder is disturbing. “Then we really just bought your freedom?”

“Oh yes,” Zyneth says. “Which officially makes me a liability. And is also precisely why we need to spend the rest of our evening preparing.”

“Preparing how?” I ask.

“Procure tools,” Zyneth says. “Weapons. Healing potions. Check in on Red’s progress with your upgraded translator. This will be our last chance to make sure all our affairs are in order before we leave the land behind.”

Right. It’s really happening. We’ll really be leaving all this behind by dawn tomorrow.

“Speaking of affairs,” I say. “I promised Noli I would see her one last time before I tried to go home. I, ah, do not think that is possible any longer. But I would like to send her a letter, at least. Do you think you could deliver it to her?”

Zyneth frowns thoughtfully. “If I hand-delivered it to her, it would need to wait several weeks given my round-trip journey to Emrox. We best send it before we depart. I don’t think it would be much risk to drop a letter off with the wyverns in the morning just before we leave.”

“That sounds great,” I say, relieved. Thinking of Noli stings me with regret, but since we can’t risk a trip through the telepads, and we only have 12 hours until dawn, that will be one promise I’ll have to break. “Will you help me write it?” I ask.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

“Of course. We’ll work on it tonight. But first…” Zyneth unsheathes one of his blades, flipping it around with a practiced move to grab it by the flat of the blade. He offers the handle to me. “Tap into one of your affinities and activate the spell circle on this blade. I want to see what we have to work with here.”

I glance at the knife nervously, but don’t take it. “I am not sure it is the best idea for me to use my void on that.”

The predator disagrees: It is quite interested to see the result.

Yeah, that’s why we’re not doing it.

“Do you want to try for the first time now,” Zyneth asks, “or when Gillow’s claws are at your core?”

Point taken. I carefully take the blade as we walk, but don’t use any of my null arcana. Still, I can feel the predator swirling at the end of my mind, curious and hungry to use the weapon.

“This is dangerous,” I say. “The predator—”

“Kanin, please,” Zyneth says. “If you’re about to insult my intelligence, you’re better off saving your words. I am fully aware of what I’m dealing with. I assure you, I can handle it.”

I want to believe him, but it’s hard to shake the equally strong belief that the predator will choose to wrest control at exactly the wrong moment. Compromising, I drift a few feet away from Zyneth as we walk, then focus on my glass.

[Attuned, or summoned?] Echo asks. [The spell in this object allows for Attuned elements to be manipulated, or for elements of the users affinity to be summoned with an associated mana cost.]

Attuned then, I tell her. I don’t want to spend any mana on this.

[Activated.]

The knife reacts immediately, my signing glass jumping to the blade and forming around it like shards of ice. It sweeps up the surface and beyond, doubling the length and curling in beautiful, terrifying serrated edges. I can feel the blade’s spell providing structure to the glass; making it stronger, sharper, and more powerful.

I drop the knife in surprise, and the glass falls away like filaments from a magnet, flying back toward me, into my control, before the blade even hits the ground.

“Sorry,” I say, retrieving it. “Could have used some warning.”

Zyneth chuckles. “I figured you’d seen me use them enough by now to know how they work.”

I turn the blade over, trying to decipher the spell circle that’s etched into the knife’s face. The only circle I’ve really grown familiar with is the one needed in the Core Bond spell. Apparently, every shape and line has some associated meaning, and anyone with enough understanding of the theory would be able to read the purpose of a spell just by looking at it. I guess Echo finds this too abstracted to translate, so the only thing I recognize is from my own knowledge of the shapes used in Core Bond.

“There is the symbol for null arcana in here.” It’s microscopic—half the size of a grain of rice.

“There’s symbols for every school of magic,” Zyneth says. “That’s part of the purpose. Summon and shape the associated element when a user activates the spell. I’m impressed you could read that much.”

“That is all I can read,” I admit. “Do you have all these affinities?”

Zyneth laughs. “Gods no. I’ve never heard of anyone with more than four, and even that much is extremely rare. Only being capable of one affinity is most common. Two is possible with practice or the right circumstances. For instance, lightning is my primary affinity, though technically I also inherited fire—most cambions have fire as an innate affinity. I’ve rather let that element lapse in my training, however.”

“If you cannot use the other elements, why would you buy a knife that is designed for all of them?” I ask.

“I didn’t buy it, I made it.” Zyneth traces a finger over the circle on his half of the pair. “Etched every line myself. That’s my artificer specialty, actually. Weapon work. Mostly power augmentation and channeling, though I’ve experimented with a variety of spells that can be incorporated into a blade. This pair was intended to be my first professional piece, which is why they were designed for such flexibility. However, when it came time to sell them, I found myself unable to part with the blades. Sentimentality makes for poor business,” he adds with a chuckle.

He suddenly looks up, gesturing to the knife in my hands. “That’s enough about me. Let’s see you form a void blade.”

I was hoping he’d forgotten about that. “Are you—?” I stop myself when I notice Zyneth’s glare. “Sorry. No more insults.”

Even so, I pause to look around. If Zyneth is really insistent about doing this, I’m going to make sure no one else is close enough to get caught in any crossfire.

Mana Check.

[Mana: 54/56]

Activate Bond Trace spell.

A pulse of my magic sweeps out around me, and my soul appears shimmering in my vial. I can see it through my glass and clothes as if they’re not even there. Similarly, a light appears in Zyneth’s chest, shining like a star. I can read his soul as clearly as a book—the essence of him glowing with courage, compassion, and regret.

I have to force myself to tear my gaze away. Our souls are not the ones I’m looking for. I get Echo to push the pulse of magic out further, and I turn in a circle as I search for any other lights that might be within range. Within about thirty feet in every direction, there are none. I guess that will have to be good enough.

I shut the spell off.

Zyneth frowns, raising a hand to his chest. “Did you feel that just now?”

“Sorry, that was me,” I say. “Needed to make sure we were alone.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize that was something you could do.”

“I suppose I am just a mysterious man.”

He snorts. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

I look down at the blade. I guess there’s no point in delaying the inevitable, and the longer I wait, the more likely someone will wander nearby without me knowing. “Stand back,” I say, retreating a pace while taking the small knife in both hands. Steeling myself, I activate the spell circle, this time tapping into the void.

And the predator leaps at the opportunity.

It’s blindingly fast. I’d been anticipating it would try something, and I’m still caught off guard. Ink envelops the blade and fountains beyond, forming a writhing black sword. At the same time, the predator is pressing at my mind, fighting for dominance. It’s like being pummeled by waves on a beach. I’m standing my ground, bracing against each crash, but my mind is split between the predator and Zyneth’s blade, trying to keep the magic from being wrestled from my control. The predator has also split its focus, the outer battle mirroring our inner one, but—and maybe because of its nature—it’s better at splitting its attention than me. I stumble as the tide pulls back, and the predator surges forward. The shadows surrounding the knife turn into claws, serrated edges taking on the form of teeth, which gnash together in a growling smile.

My control on the void slips. I try to drop the knife, hoping to dispel the magic, but void engulfs my hands, binding them to the blade.

“Zyneth!” I call, panicked.

And the shadows vanish. The knife is still clutched in my hand, but the blade is bare, all the void that had been wrapped around it gone. Surprise runs through the predator and me in equal measure. I take the moment of confusion to force the predator back, rebuffing it from my mind. It resists for a moment, then angrily falls back, retreating in puzzled agitation.

“Fascinating,” Zyneth says, holding up his knife. Shadows extend from the hilt in the form of a slim black sword. It’s the void the predator and I had been wrestling with just a moment before—but now I don’t sense its presence at all. Neither of us have any control over its shape.

Zyneth expertly twirls the sword in his grasp and slashes the air experimentally. “That worked better than I expected.”

I stare at him dumbly. “What?”

Zyneth gestures dismissively, and the void falls back within my grasp once more. The ink snaps back to me like a rubber band, hiding in my clothes, and we’re both left holding two bare blades once more.

“The knives are linked,” Zyneth explains. “I designed them such that an attuned element imbued in one blade could be transferred to the other, and vice versa. It was intended for my dual fire and lightning affinities—so I could swap between the forms if each were imbued with a different arcana. This application, however, seems much more useful.”

I slump, prying the knife from the predator’s void, and let it drop to the ground. “What the fuck, Zyneth,” I sign.

“I know the first time was an accident, but it’s a little rude to drop it on purpose,” Zyneth says. “These blades may be magical, but they’re not indestructible.”

I don’t pick it up. “I would have appreciated a warning.”

“Sorry,” Zyneth says, strolling over to retrieve his knife. “But I suspected the predator might not react predictably if it knew I could pull the void away.”

“React is exactly what it did anyway,” I say, feeling a little used and irritated.

“I am sorry,” Zyneth repeats. “I had to test the theory to be sure.” He picks up the knife, sheaths it, and offers both sheath and blade back to me. “Now we have a method to combat it.”

Do we? It won’t help me fight off the predator’s mind. But if its void is getting out of control, if I have just enough willpower to get it to touch the blade, then maybe Zyneth could at least declaw it.

I take the knife. “It is more than we had before, at any rate. Thank you.”

Zyneth smiles. “Not a problem. Hold onto that blade, now. Do you know how to attach the sheath to your belt?”

He must take me for an absolute idiot. “Ah, that reminds me, actually.” I reach into my satchel and withdraw a wrapped package. “Here. For you.”

Zyneth’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “What is this? When did you get it? How? You don’t have any money.” Even so, he gingerly takes it.

“I sold my spell books when we were in the market,” I explain while he unties the twine. “I was not sure when I should give this to you. I, ah, wanted to show my thanks for everything you have done.”

Zyneth folds back the soft leather wrapping to reveal twin silver sheaths, engraved with a bold crimson and gold design. I had Echo confirm the blades’ dimensions to make sure they’d fit.

Zyneth stares at them in silence, and I begin to shift awkwardly. Shit. Was this a bad idea? He probably already likes his own sheaths just fine.

Finally, he speaks, his tone soft. “You shouldn’t have spent such coin on me.”

I relax. “Oh, right, like you have not spent a small fortune on me already.”

He chuckles. “Fair enough.” He looks up at me, eyes crinkled in a smile that stabs me right in my heart. “This is very thoughtful. Thank you, Kanin.”

Oh, no, now I am thinking this was a mistake. Why do I do this to myself? I’m such a fool.

Zyneth swaps his knives from the old sheaths to the new ones, tests their fit, then hands one of them back to me.

“Ah, right,” I say, taking the blade. “Well, this feels oddly self-serving now.”

“Nonsense,” Zyneth says, fixing his other one to his hip. “You’re merely borrowing it. And I feel much better already that you’re holding onto it. Come now. Ready?” He gestures back to the streets.

“What?” I ask, awkwardly trying to fix the knife to my belt as I follow him. “For what? Where are we going?”

“I told you, we’ve much to prepare for,” Zyneth says. “This quest will be dangerous. Gillow will likely try to kill me. The predator will no doubt attempt to harm you. We’ll be traveling to underwater Ruins from which few have returned, passing through arcana-infused waters filled with hostile sea creatures straight from the legends. And we only have a contingency plan for one of these things.”

“Oh.” I catch up to him. “Well that just sounds like any other Tuesday.”