Adrian stirred the iron pot's bubbling contents more forcefully than necessary. Several hours after his and Cedric's goodbye, he still hadn't pried out Candra's secret.

"He could have told you before he left, and he chose otherwise," she'd said. "I'll respect his choice."

"You dropped something momentous on his head at the literal last moment! He was still absorbing it himself," Adrian had scoffed. "And since when have you shown Cedric even an ounce of respect? This entire time, you've done nothing but browbeat and insult him. If not that, you're sending vicious thugs to kill him."

Tears had rapidly filled Candra's red-rimmed eyes, striking Adrian dumb. He could only gape blankly as she'd turned and fled their camp. Hours later, she still hadn't come back, and Adrian had resorted to terramantic experiments to pass the time.

When she returns, I'll try a different approach. If I can think of one…

Adrian forced himself to focus on the mixture before him. He had his own assignment to attend to, and the key to its success would most likely lie with his Goddess-given talents.

Yet he already knew that no combination of the contents of Oleanna’s wallet, which he’d exhaustively committed to memory by now, could achieve the sheer scale of what he needed. Medicinal teas and temporary dyes were reasonable, but infiltrating the capital and freeing a specific group of children rather exceeded the capabilities of a bag of dried herbs.

He sighed and discarded the stirring stick, and while he broodily waited for inspiration to strike, Candra returned. Adrian opened his mouth, preparing an apology or consolation, but a mildly accusatory "Where have you been?" came out instead.

"She’s gone," Candra said numbly, as if she hadn't heard him. Her eyes, still somewhat red, were fixed blankly on the ground.

"Who? Grace?"

"Adelaide, from the family camped nearby. Her father took her to Lady Salus right before the preliminaries ended."

Adrian swallowed. "The five-year-old?"

Candra nodded, then finally looked at him. "How can I help?"

"Er--with what?"

"With saving those children."

Adrian looked back down at the pot. "I don't know if you can. I simply lack the necessary resources."

Candra stepped forward. "If terramancy is your weapon of choice, you'll need to wield more potent ingredients than leaves and flowers."

He stared at her. "What do you know about terramancy?"

"I was a Scholar. I conducted my own studies on the side."

"Did your masters know?"

Her smile was a little mischievous, but mostly tired. "They never asked."

The possibility had already crossed Adrian's mind, and Candra's confirmation deepened that dread. He'd once resolved to keep well clear of the darker arts that Oleanna had warned him of, but if this was the only way…

He stood up and dusted off his hands. "Could you take me to Adelaide's father?"

*

Gregor was a slight, wispy man who would have been handsome had he been well-fed and groomed. He looked up from his fire upon Adrian and Candra's approach, and his squinting, Blight-stricken eyes were all the explanation needed as to why he'd send his daughter away.

"Candra? It's you, right?" he said in a thick voice. The skin around his eyes was puffy and red, as was his nose. He sniffed, quickly swiped a hand across it, and stood up to greet them.

"It's me, Gregor," she said, and gently grasped his shoulder. "How are you?"

He ignored her question. "Do you need an eye on Nightwind?"

"No, but Adrian and I could use your help with another matter."

Gregor briefly shook his hand, though he didn't meet his eyes. "Well met, lad. What can I do?"

Adrian and Candra exchanged a glance. This wouldn't be an easy sell, regardless of their reasons. "We must locate Adelaide within the capital, and with her every child that Lady Salus has taken in," she said.

Gregor's brow furrowed. "Why? Are they not being fed and sheltered as promised?"

"They are," Candra said carefully. "But they're most likely being… put to use."

"'Put to use'? Please, speak plainly." Gregor's voice had risen in pitch and volume, and fresh distress blossomed across his face. Adrian's heart twisted.

"I know of Lady Salus, at least by reputation. She connects clients with their desired company, whatever or whomever they desire. She did not take Adelaide in out of charity."

Confusion gave way to understanding, which rapidly mutated into horror. He stepped back. "How could you possibly know this? I--I don't believe you," he said in a strangled voice.

"Gregor, we can help," Adrian pleaded. "You can help. A small vial of your blood, the blood you share with Adelaide, and I can find--"

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

Gregor's hands flew to either side of his head, his knuckles bone-white. The sound leaving his mouth was low, animalistic, a prolonged cry of heartrending anguish.

"Please, Gregor--" Adrian began.

"Go away!" he moaned. "You torment me with hideous lies about my daughter, all to take my blood for your witchcraft! You won't fool me!"

A few looks and turned heads were now facing their way.

"Leave me!" Gregor cried, more loudly this time, and Adrian and Candra were forced to do so.

"Bloody superstitions," Adrian spat as they swiftly retreated. "If he'd just listen--"

"He's just learned that he sent his own daughter into a den of animals," Candra said. "And every child in the kingdom is taught to guard their blood and flesh, specifically against heretics."

Adrian couldn't exactly deny this. Even he, who'd been raised little better than a street mongrel, had always known to not surrender his blood to just anyone who asked.

He gnashed his teeth. "It's hopeless. Gregor is the only link to the children we know of, and even if he weren't, I doubt anyone else would leap forward to offer their blood."

Candra regarded him with some of the old disdain that'd been missing from her features for the past few days. "Are you being intentionally dense out of squeamishness, or are you naturally so?"

"What are you--"

She pulled Adrian's hunting knife from the sheath at his belt, and its blade glimmered coldly under the midday sun.

"You'll do what you must, isn't that right?"

*

Grace and Finn were accompanied by a tall, stocky stranger, older by a year or so. His eyes were gray, darker than Adrian's, and the patchy beginnings of a beard dotted his heavyset face.

The three of them joined Adrian around a fresh fire that the latter had begun building at sunset.

"This is Henry," Grace said. She gathered her skirts to sit beside Finn. "I thought we could use some additional help."

His name struck a faint chord of familiarity in Adrian's mind, but he was too preoccupied with the imminence of their grisly task to devote much thought to it. He nodded at Henry in greeting. "What did Grace tell you?"

"She told me enough," he said as he settled down cross-legged. "If she trusts your intent, so do I."

"We'll go once Candra returns, and the darkness fully sets in," Adrian said. He held up the small iron pot. "I'll collect his blood here."

Henry stared. "You'll take that much?"

Adrian laughed uneasily. "My vials are too small, given the likely… messiness. Two thimblefuls' worth will suffice."

It was clear that neither Grace, Finn, nor Henry felt entirely at ease with what they were about to do. Even disregarding their ingrained superstitions about heretics and witchcraft, they were still about to restrain an innocent man to be bled.

"Aye, this is a lot to ask," Adrian said amid the uncomfortable silence. "But in return for saving those children…"

"We believe you, Adrian," Grace said firmly, meeting his eyes. "Cedric would."

A few minutes later, Candra joined their small gathering. "Gregor moved camp closer to the riverbank, now that the nobles are no longer hogging it. Several others have done so as well."

"And he didn't catch you watching him?" Adrian said.

"I kept my distance. He's currently settling in for the night."

Her eyes scanned the group and did a double take upon sight of Henry. "The newest addition to our merry band?" she said.

"Something like that," Adrian said. "Another pair of hands couldn't hurt."

Candra shrugged and sat down. Adrian passed the last of their dried fruit around the circle, and they nibbled quietly as they waited.

When the last of the twilight faded, they all rose to follow Candra's lead.

*

The iron pot in Adrian's hand made him feel supremely foolish, as if he were out gathering ingredients for soup. He bit his lip to keep an absurd snort from escaping.

The nearly full moon provided enough light to see where they were going, but not enough to discern anyone's faces. Adrian yearned for Cedric's darkness sense, if only for a better chance of success in this gruesome endeavor.

They approached the water, which rippled with silvery, ethereal moonlight. Candra beckoned them all forward and pointed at a blanketed figure on the ground lying beneath a low, lopsided cloth shelter. Gregor didn't react to his new company, and was likely either asleep or about to be so.

Henry positioned himself near Gregor's head, Candra kneeled beside his legs, and Grace hovered over his left arm. Adrian and Finn shuffled to Gregor's right. The former took a deep breath, then looked at each of his accomplices--their features veiled in darkness--and hissed, "Now!"

Four pairs of hands clamped down on Gregor simultaneously, and he awoke with a yelp mostly muffled by the bruising grip of Henry's palm. He keened, thrashed, and twisted, but his captors held firm.

Adrian swept the knife across the outer forearm that Finn had pinned down, and swore when his nervous grip cut a deeper wound than intended. Gregor's stifled scream climbed in pitch as his struggles grew fiercer.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" Adrian muttered as he set the pot beside Gregor's arm and watched the blood run down in a glossy stream. It looked black in the moonlight, dark and viscous. Adrian swallowed against a surge in his throat.

Adrian then dusted the wound with a powdered herb from Oleanna's wallet, which worked on its own as a coagulant. He retrieved a vial from his pocket and emptied its contents into Gregor's eyes and nose. Gregor sputtered for a few moments, then went eerily still.

"What was that?" Grace whispered into the ringing silence.

"I mixed it this afternoon," Adrian said. "When he wakes, his most recent memories will be muddied."

"When he sees his fresh wound, he'll put the pieces together on his own," Henry said uncertainly.

"I know, but this was the best I could do." Adrian nodded. "You can all let go."

Gregor snored blissfully, as if everything were right with the world.

I'll bring Adelaide back to you. I promise.

Despite what he and his collaborators had just done, Adrian's heart felt absurdly light on their walk back. He looked forward to his coming creation, and the sordid nature of its primary ingredient only bolstered that eagerness, that anticipation.

"Henry," he choked in sudden remembrance. The so-named individual halted in his tracks, as did Grace, Finn, and Candra. "Henry Avidus?"

"I am," Henry said.

"You're the Enforcer's son? The one who got Cedric's guardians killed?"

Henry visibly flinched.

To Adrian's surprise, Grace stepped forward. "He's changed much since Cedric knew him. Henry deeply regrets the harm he committed that day."

"At the time, I thought I was doing the right thing," Henry said in a halting voice. "The duty of a devout Apostle. But I never intended…" He held up his palm, showing them his caste mark. "I could have entered Crystallinus with my father. He begged me, but I refused."

"Why?" Adrian demanded.

"I couldn't." Henry's head dipped. "I simply … couldn't."

"And he did just help you bleed a man," Finn said. "Going solely off your word."

"Believe me, Adrian," Grace said. "I would have been the last to stand by Henry Avidus, but he proved himself plenty on the journey from Methodosia. He helped wherever he could, shared his supplies, attended to the sick…"

But knowing the sheer burden of anguish that Cedric had suffered over Jana and Alvir's deaths was perfectly sufficient for Adrian to nurse a grudge of his own, no matter how much Henry had purportedly changed.

"Cedric blames himself for what happened," he said coldly.

"If I'd known he was here, I would have sought him out," Henry said quietly. He glanced at Grace and Finn with a look that was questioning rather than accusatory.

"Cedric had plenty on his mind already," Grace said shortly.

"You want to apologize?" Adrian said.

"Aye," Henry said. "Though I wouldn't presume to ask for forgiveness."

"For all our sakes, let's hope you get your chance." Adrian's gaze fell to Henry's caste mark, and so struck another exhilarating bolt of inspiration. "Come to my camp at sunrise tomorrow," he said, then pointed. "I'd like a closer look at that."