"Ten!"

The slaves gathered in the yard of the Windhill slave quarters winced as the crack of a whip once again split the early morning air.

"Eleven!"

Fray stood in the centre of the yard with her hands tied around a post. Her teeth were gritted against the pain so hard that her gums bled. Long, painful welts covered her back, some already bleeding.

All the slaves had been gathered in the yard to watch the punishment, as was the tradition. Halcyon was well aware of the effect that such displays had, reminding all of the price of disloyalty or disobedience. Most of the assembled slaves tried to keep their faces blank, as if they did not see the sight before them. Others didn't even attempt to hide their anger and contempt, snarling with each blow and whispering curses at the overseers under their breaths. Children whimpered and tried to look away, only for their mothers to force them to watch. Anyone caught looking away or closing their eyes received a painful strike from a long wooden switch.

Another crack rang out, and Fray could barely stop herself from letting out an agonised growl. A few drops of blood pattered to the ground between her feet.

"Twelve!"

Snyder stood a few steps away, watching as Sally drew her arm back again. Lee stood beside him, his face still swollen and bruised from Fray's attack several days before. Despite his pathetic appearance, Lee still managed to smile each time the whip cut through the air and struck Fray's flesh.

"Thirteen!"

Fray's claws dug into the wooden post as the whip struck her again and again. But, no matter how much pain she felt from each blow, no matter how many times the sound of the whip rang in her ears, Fray refused to make a sound. Her eyes narrowed to hate-filled slits as she glanced over her shoulder and glared directly at Snyder.

"Fourteen!"

In the crowd of watching slaves, Vali witnessed the scene with gritted teeth and bunched fists.

"They'll kill her at this rate." One of the other slaves whispered, her eyes wide with fear.

"Fifteen!"

"Fray is strong; she'll be alright," Vali whispered. "Just stay quiet. There's nothing we can do right now."

"What about Keeli?"

"Sixteen!"

Despite her best efforts, Vali's eyes flicked over to the giant oak tree in the centre of the slave yard. A noose hung from one of the lower branches, swaying gently in the wind, a barrel set on its end beneath it. Vali's stomach turned at the sight of the terrible, deadly shape. Beside the tree, her hands bound behind her, flanked on either side by an overseer, was Keeli. She didn't react at all to the sound of the whip; her eyes were fixed in a horrified stare on the noose in front of her.

"Smooth-skin bastards." one of the other females snarled to herself.

"Seventeen!"

Vali didn't notice, as the whipping continued, a figure slid up behind her.

"Vali, am I right?" a male voice whispered to her.

Vali started to turn, but the voice hissed at her. "Don't, you'll draw attention."

"What do you want?" Vali hissed.

"Eighteen!"

Kessel leaned a little closer to Vali. "Is it true that you and some other females are thinking about making some... drastic moves?"

Vali stiffened, her ears twitching. "Where did you hear something like that?"

"Just a whisper on the wind and a true one I'll mark." Kessel's cheek twitched as the whip cracked through the air again. "What with recent events."

"Nineteen!"

"Just know, if you and the rest of the females were to decide that some of the overseers should be... dealt with, we are willing to stand with you."

"Who is 'we'?" Vali hissed.

Instead of replying, Kessel pressed something into Vali's palm. Vali looked down to see a small length of blue fabric in her hand.

"If you want to talk, wear this in your hair. We'll come to you."

"Twenty!" Snyder folded his hands behind his back. "Alright, that's enough. Cut her down."

"Why should we trust you?" Vali asked, keeping her gaze fixed straight ahead.

"We're fellow pelts, aren't we?"

"Yes... We've learned not to trust males."

"Then how about this: trust us because, if you really are thinking about fighting, you'll need all the help you can get. Besides, we can offer you a chance to... 'deal with' Snyder."

Vali's ears twitched. "How?"

"That's my secret for now. Just know that I can get Snyder alone, somewhere quiet."

The ropes holding Fray creaked as her muscles strained. Her back felt as if it were on fire, pain radiating through her entire body, even clouding her vision. Still, she kept her glare fixed on Snyder, defiant and enraged, as Sally stepped forward, drawing a knife from her belt.

"All right, big girl, let's get you down." Sally started cutting the ropes holding Fray's wrists. "Just don't do anything stupid, okay? We'll get a poultice on your back as soon as possible."

Fray collapsed to her knees with an agonised gasp as the ropes let go.

"You and you, get her up," Sally commanded, waving her knife at Vali and another fore.

"Just keep my offer in mind," Kessel whispered, melting back into the crowd as Vali stepped forward.

Vali and the other fore gripped Fray and helped pull her to her feet. Fray tried to stand on her own but could not take more than a single step before she collapsed and had to be picked up again. As she was led away, Fray looked over her shoulder at Snyder.

"Don't... don't do this, Armin..." Fray's voice was a rasping whisper, lines of blood running down the corners of her mouth. "She didn't do anything... and you know it... This is just... murder..."

Snyder's hands slowly bunched into fists. His throat felt dry, his forehead prickled with sweat, and the hate-filled glares of the slaves made his skin itch.

But Snyder had decided on a course and would not back down.

"Bring the condemned forward." He called out.

The two overseers gripped Keeli's arms and dragged her forward. She tried to walk on her own, but her feet refused to follow her commands. She didn't try and struggle; there was no point. All she could do was stare at the rope in front of her, her heart beating so fast it threatened to tear itself free of her chest. It was strange; she had expected that she would break down, that she wouldn't be able to resist the urge to whimper and beg. Instead, Keeli felt only a sense of grey dread as the overseers dragged her towards her doom.

As they arrived at the barrel and a small step stool sitting next to it, one of the overseers released her arm and began fiddling with a special runic key. The locking mechanism released with a loud click, and Keeli's collar slid from her neck and dropped into the dust between her feet.

For the first time in a very long time, Keeli's neck was free of a collar. There was a strange sense of absence, coupled with the sudden realisation that her thoughts were her own. There was no runic pull on her mind, no dulling of her feelings, no subtle pressure to be docile. It was like stepping outside after a rainstorm and smelling the fresh, clean air.

Keeli didn't have long to savour the feeling. Before she knew it, Keeli found herself hauled up onto the barrel. The overseer behind her pulled the noose over her head and roughly tightened it around her throat. Once more, terror overtook her as the overseers stepped away, one of them holding a rope that would pull the barrel out from under her feet.

"Please-" Keeli whimpered, but the overseers paid no attention as they turned away.

"Here you go, boss." The overseer said, handing Snyder the rope.

Snyder nodded, gripping the rope tightly in his hands. As he did, he noted Sally watching him with a strange expression. Was it disappointment? Apprehension? Whatever it was, the moment she saw that Snyder had noticed her gaze, she turned away, spitting into the dust.

"We have rules around here," Snyder called out, glancing around at the watching crowd. "Overseers are not to be touched, ever, under any circumstances. This is an absolute necessity to keep order and ensure that this ranch runs smoothly and safely for all. This slave broke that rule and will now pay the price. Remember this, for this could be any one of you. No one is irreplaceable."

There was only silence from the watching pelts. Snyder had warned his overseers to be alert for the slaves to try anything and ordered them to come armed and ready for a fight. Instead, they stood in sullen silence, throwing the odd venomous glance at Snyder and the other overseers but quickly averting their eyes when their defiance was noticed.

'Such sad creatures,' Snyder thought to himself as he spoke. 'One of their own, about to die... and they do nothing.'

As she stood on the barrel, Keeli's chest felt like it would burst. She tried pulling at the ropes binding her hands, but they showed no signs of budging. She tried to look down at the ground, but the rope around her neck was too tight, and any movement threatened to choke her. As Snyder spoke, droning on about the rules, a strange sensation came over Keeli. Suddenly, the sun felt so much warmer as it touched her fur, and the air smelled sweeter in her nostrils. Her ears twitched as she noticed the sounds of birds for the first time in a long time, and all the colours around her seemed more vibrant than usual.

'It's... because I'm going to die.' The thought brought tears to Keeli's eyes as a mixture of terror and despair rolled through her.

Noticing that Keeli's knees were beginning to quake, Snyder shook himself from his thoughts and wrapped up his speech. After all, it wouldn't do to have her faint before her execution. He caught another questioning glance from Sally as he wrapped the rope around his hand.

"May the Lord's justice be done."

Snyder gave a single hard pull of the rope.

Keeli tried to grip with her toes but succeeded only in carving a few little furrows in the wood as Snyder dragged the barrel out from under her. She let out only a quiet yelp as she fell before being caught by the noose. Immediately Keeli felt her breath cut off and intense, unbearable pain in her neck. Instinctively, she began to kick and thrash about, slight gurgles and gasps coming from her as she fought, her eyes wide and staring. She tried to call out for Fray, for anyone, but only a strangled moan emerged from her mouth.

Snyder's hand drifted down to his pistol. He still half-expected the assembled pelts to do something, anything to rescue the struggling lapine, but none did. Some of the watching children whimpered while the adults watched, most of their faces dull and expressionless. The glares of defiance were gone.

The overseers didn't react much either, a few pausing to light a cigarette. They'd seen this before; nothing to do now but wait for the struggle to end and then get the slaves to work. The only exceptions were Sally, who still seemed unsettled, and Lee, who seemed positively elated.

The more he watched the scene unfolding before him, the more Snyder felt like he'd made a terrible mistake. The watching pelts weren't nervous or frightened; they weren't even angry or defiant. He couldn't tell what they were thinking; their silence was heavy and ominous. But he'd made his choice, and he wasn't going to back down now--at least, that was what he kept repeating to himself.

Lee's eyes, still mostly hidden behind swollen cheeks and eyelids, grew bright as Keeli kicked and suffered. A grin spread across his face, and despite his fractured jaw, he called out, "That's right bitch! Dance!"

"Shut up, boy," Snyder hissed, keeping his voice low.

But Lee was too excited to notice Snyder's words. He let out a whoop, pulling his hat from his head. "Damn, that is a nice dance! Come on, lapine, where's your back chat now, huh?"

Before Snyder could say anything else, there was a flurry of movement to his right.

"Fuck this," Sally snarled, striding forward and delivering a savage blow to the back of Lee's head with her fist. Lee toppled to the dirt as Sally approached Keeli, drawing her long knife from her belt again.

Keeli's struggles were swiftly growing weaker as her muscles cramped. Her arms relaxed against her back, and her powerful kicks had been reduced to feeble twitching. Her chest fought vainly for air, but it was a hopeless battle. Her whole world was panic and pain, but a strange sense of detachment grew with each passing moment.

Despite her fading consciousness, Keeli felt a flash of fear as she noticed Sally walking towards her with a knife. There was a detached and wandering part of her mind that almost managed to find some humour in the fact that she was still scared of a knife now that she was moments away from death.

Instead of cutting her, Sally grabbed Keeli's shoulder with her free hand and sawed at the rope just above the noose knot.

"Don't struggle, don't wanna get scratched or kicked," Sally said as her knife bit deep into the rough cord. "Just relax... almost there..."

"Miss Duvall, what in damnation are you doing?!" Snyder called out. As Snyder took a step forward, Sally's loyal hunting cat's ears flattened, and she let out a threatening hiss, placing herself between Snyder and her master.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

A few moments later, Sally slashed through the last few rope fibres. Keeli fell heavily to the ground, her legs crumpling beneath her. Sally bent down and swiftly pulled the noose off her neck, allowing her to catch a ragged breath.

"Breathe," Sally commanded, slapping Keeli hard on the back. She looked up at Vali. "Get over here; take her inside."

As Vali rushed to obey, Snyder called out again. "Miss Duvall! Sally! What do you think you are doing?"

Leaping to her feet, Sally aimed her knife's point at Snyder. "You wanna hang pelts, fine, go ahead; I don't give a dusty fuck." Sally's arm shifted, now aiming her knife at Lee, who was in the midst of being shaken awake by Sinclair and a few other overseers. "But not on a lie, and not for the likes of that."

As Sally spoke, her hunting cat let out a low growl, bearing its fangs once more at Snyder.

"I've done plenty I ain't proud of, but murdering someone, even a pelt, is where I draw my line." Reaching for the leather cuff all overseers wore, Sally undid the buckles and threw it to the ground.

"Do what you want, I ain't gonna be no part of it," She growled before turning and stalking off towards the overseer's quarters, her cat following behind her after a long glare at Synder and Lee.

"What do you wanna do, boss?" One of the overseers near Snyder asked, gesturing at Vali and the other fore as they hastily carried Keeli back into the female barn, as if hoping that getting her out of sight would make the overseers forget about her.

Snyder stood still, his eyes locked on the remains of the noose sitting in the dirt. "Let her go."

"You sure, boss?"

With a single nod, Snyder turned around. "Yeah." He glanced down at Lee, who was just starting to awaken from Sally's blow. "Dump some cold water on him, then get him the fuck off this ranch."

Sinclair looked up sharply, "Sir?"

"You heard me."

"But-"

"One more word, and you go with him."

The venom in Snyder's voice made Sinclair freeze.

As Lee was hauled to his feet, Snyder called out to the other overseers. "Alright, the show's over, and we got work to do! I want everyone out in the fields in ten minutes! Fores, get your work crews organised and moved out!"

There was an explosion of movement behind Snyder as he turned on his heel and started towards the overseers' cabins, pausing only momentarily to pick up the leather cuff Sally had dropped.

***

"It's okay, Keeli, it's okay," Vali said, patting Keeli's back as she helped her into the darkness of the female barn. "Just breathe, honey, okay, just breathe. You're going to be okay."

Keeli's breaths came as ragged gasps between painful coughing fits. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and every part of her shook with fright.

Fray, lying on a bed of straw in the back of the barn, struggled to get up as Vali and Keeli approached.

"Keeli! Are you-" Fray stopped speaking as she hissed in agony, unable to do more than raise herself onto her elbows.

"She's okay." Vali helped Keeli over and gently lowered her to the straw beside Fray. Immediately Fray reached out and pulled the gasping and crying Keeli against her.

"Did Snyder change his mind?"

"It was Sally; she cut Keeli down before she..."

Fray's breath shook as she pulled Keeli against her, stroking her gently. "It's okay, sweetie... it's all going to be okay."

Keeli tried to speak, but her voice was little more than a tortured croak.

"I have to go," Vali said, getting to her feet. "You keep Keeli here for now."

"Thank you."

As Vali turned to leave, Fray called out. "Vali..."

Vali paused and looked over her shoulder. "Yes?" She was surprised to see the smouldering hatred in Fray's eyes.

Fray's teeth flashed in the dark as she spoke, clutching Keeli against her. "We're going to fight."

***

By the time Snyder arrived at Sally's cabin, she was shoving her clothes into a canvas rucksack. Sally's quarters were shared with three other female overseers, though her section was far and away the most untidy. Spent liquor bottles sat all around her bed, and the knick-knacks and other personal effects she kept on the shelf above her bed were in disarray, with a sock draped across a picture frame that contained a faded image of her prior fiance.

Sally didn't look over her shoulder as Snyder entered, stepping past her snarling hunting cat sitting by the door.

"Don't worry, boss, I'm leaving."

Snyder raised an eyebrow. "Well... that's too bad. I was rather hoping to talk to you about a new opportunity."

Sally paused for a moment and glanced over her shoulder at Snyder. "Opportunity."

Snyder started to step forward, but Sally's cat snarled at him again.

"Easy, Calibri," Sally commanded, gesturing at the cat. Turning to Snyder, she crossed her arms. "You were saying?"

"You were right."

Sally blinked in surprise as Snyder reached up and removed his hat, running a hand through his hair.

"You were right about hanging that slave."

"You're damn straight."

"I was trying to... save face." Snyder shook his head. "Ever since Master Windhill left, this place has felt... unsettled. I was just trying to ensure we hadn't lost our edge, that the pelts still fear us."

"They may fear us, but the pelts ain't stupid. They know damn well that Keeli didn't savage Lee."

"I can see that now."

"And what about Lee?" Sally shoved another few articles of clothing into her bag. "I ain't sticking around if that idiot stays."

"Well then, I suppose it's a good thing I fired Lee."

Sally paused for a moment before resuming her packing. "Yeah? Well, you shoulda done that a season ago."

Snyder sighed. "Look, Sally, I get it. I've made some mistakes, maybe even some big ones. You were a big help in dealing with Comb, and I shoulda listened to you about Lee."

For a few moments, Sally was still, a pair of pants clenched in her hands, half in half out of her bag.

"So... what're you saying?" Sally asked.

"I'm saying... I'm asking if you will stay. You got good eyes and a good head on your shoulders. I need you to stay here."

"And do what exactly?"

"Well... how would you feel about having a little more responsibility?"

Sally looked over her shoulder with a raised eyebrow. "You mean like... second head overseer?"

"Took the words right outta my mouth."

Sally was quiet for a few moments, looking back down at her pack.

"I want a pay increase. Twenty percent."

"Done."

"An' I want my own cabin."

"I... yes, alright."

"And-"

Snyder raised a hand. "Let's not push it."

A grin crossed Sally's face as she turned around and crossed her arms. "Fine."

"Good." Snyder nodded. "You can put your gear away later. We have work to do. Oh, and-" Snyder tossed the leather cuff back to Sally. "-you're out of uniform. Fix that, would you?"

Sally caught the leather cuff and placed it back on her wrist. With her thumb, she rubbed the dust off the small rune embedded in the underside. "Sure thing, boss."

***

Fire. Nothing but fire. Heat and smoke, soot and ash everywhere. Lungs burning, fur, skin and flesh sloughing off of singed bone-

Trip awoke with a scream. His throat felt as if he were trying to swallow shredded glass, and all over his body, he felt as if needles were digging into his skin. Mindlessly, he began swinging his arms at some unseen enemy, his teeth gnashing and his feet kicking wildly. Something was around his throat; he felt like he couldn't breathe! Trip attacked the collar at his neck with his claws, tearing it free and sending it clattering to the ground.

Mel, who had been sleeping in a nearby chair, awoke quickly. She lunged forward and grabbed hold of Trip's flailing arms.

"Hey! Hey, it's okay! You're safe. You can-" Mel let out a yelp of pain as Trip managed to sink his teeth into her hand. Gritting her teeth against the pain, Mel managed to keep hold of Trip's wrists.

"It's okay," she repeated again and again, trying to keep her voice low and calming, even as blood dripped from her hand.

Trip's thrashing and kicking slowed, and his wildly staring eyes seemed to come back into focus. Mel stroked Trip's hair and ears as, bit by bit, his breathing began to return to normal.

"There you go, it's okay." Mel smiled down at Trip, gently scratching him between the ears.

"I.... I was burning..." Trip managed to choke out.

"It was just a dream." As Trip relaxed, Mel quickly checked over his bandages, making sure he hadn't managed to tear any of them loose. Thankfully, despite his desperate thrashing, Trip's bandages and the healing runes embedded within them were still in place. The only thing he had managed to knock loose was a rune mounted to a thin leather collar.

Picking up the collar, Mel leaned forward. 'Just hold still, this-"

"No!" Trip started frantically pushing himself away from Mel. "Not a collar! Please, no!"

"Oh no, no, this isn't a control collar, I promise. It's just meant to reduce your pain-"

"NO!" Trip gnashed his teeth at Mel again. "No collar! Never again!"

Mel paused before slowly nodding and setting the collar aside. "Alright, little one, I understand."

It took another few moments for Trip's breathing to return to normal again as he stared at Mel.

'What in damnation does this woman want?' He wondered, his heart still beating quickly. 'She... she's the one who caught me, who handed me over to the Order.... And yet-'

"Y-your hand."

Mel blinked in surprise. "Hmmm?" She glanced down at the hand the Trip had bitten and shook her head. "Don't worry about it, just a little scratch. Do you... remember where you are?"

Trip blinked a few times. His mind was fuzzy, scattered. He seemed to recall being here for a few days at least, but only tiny scraps of half-memories came to him. Mostly, it was just pain, pain and fear.

"Hathaway..." he managed after a few moments.

"That's right. My name is Mellony Hathaway, though you can call me Mel." She reached down and took one of his hands in hers. "You're at my family home outside of Lillyvale. You're safe here."

"S-safe."

"That's right." She smiled. "You're name is Trip, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Well.... Welcome to my home, Trip."

As he turned to look at Mel, Trip noted a piece of metal sitting on the table beside his bed. It was an Order belt buckle, the metal burned and marked with soot, and the scraps of leather still attached to it warped and blackened. The shield rune carved into the crystal embedded in the centre of the buckle was dull, its power exhausted.

Following Trip's gaze, Mel's grip on his hand twitched a little. "The shield rune I gave you..."

"I lost it." Trip replied, his voice little more than a whisper. "When the fire started, the chief justice... Duke... He came down into the dungeon... He shot me."

Mel's gaze moved to the bandages wrapped around Trip's belly. "You were lucky. The bullet missed your organs and went through cleanly. It'll hurt, but you should recover." Again she picked up the thin collar. "With this... you won't feel nearly so much pain."

"No..."

"I promise you it will only dull pain, nothing more."

"No collars."

"It's just on a collar so that it is near your brain and doesn't fall off. Please, this is meant to help-" As Mel spoke, she noted the spark of fear growing in Trip's eyes and the trembling of his lips as he tried to shuffle away from her.

With a heavy sigh, Mel lowered the collar. "I suppose we can use herbs instead, but they won't work quite so well."

Trip nodded quickly. "Please."

"Okay." Mel placed the collar in her pocket. "I'll get Broom to make you some herbal tea."

"B-Broom?"

"Yes, he's my-" Mel paused for a moment. "He's my... my friend. You've met him already actually. He was the one who was here when you first woke up."

Trip blinked in surprise as a fuzzy memory flitted across his mind of an aged vulpine leaning over him. Trip's breath caught as he recalled another detail, the Vulpine had been wearing a slave collar.

Mel leaned forward in her seat. "Trip... I'd like to ask you something. The man who shot you, Duke... what happened to him?"

Before Trip could say anything, the door let out a loud creak. The eyes of a young vulpine, several years younger than Trip, widened as he realised he had been caught peering into the room.

"S-sorry, Miss Hathaway."

Mel sighed and beckoned for the vulpine to enter. "Come on in, Lite."

The young vulpine put his hands behind his back; his ears pressed flat against his head as he stepped into the room. He shifted nervously from foot to foot. "I just... wanted to see if he was awake."

"It's alright. Come closer."

Lite approached cautiously, his nose twitching as he stepped forward.

As the boy stepped closer, Trip noticed a slave collar around the young one's neck.

"Lite, this is Trip. Trip, this is Lite, Broom's son."

"He's a slave."

Mel blinked in surprise at the venom in Trip's voice. "I... well..."

"You work for the Order... and you're a slaver." Trip's eyes narrowed as he glared at Mel. "Raid was right; there are no good humans."

"Don't talk that way about Miss Hathaway!" Lite barked, stepping forward, his tail puffed up, and his eyes narrowed. "She's nice! She's kind! And she saved you!"

"Lite, it's alright." Mel reached out and scratched the young vulpine between the ears. "Why don't you be a good boy and find your father? Tell him that our guest has awakened? Ask him if he would mind making him some tea."

Lite looked as if he was going to argue but decided against it. With a final defiant glance at Trip, Lite turned and left the room.

"Did you save me... so I can be your slave?" Trip growled.

Mel looked down at Trip for a few moments before leaning forward and putting a hand on his head. "You will never, ever be a slave again. I swear it."

"I don't believe you." Trip growled. "You humans... you killed Raid! You killed my friends! You tortured me!"

Mel had to withdraw her hand as Trip lunged at her wrist and tried to bite. She leaned back and blinked in surprise. "I never tortured you."

"You helped the people that did!"

"I know, and I am sorry I did."

"Why?!" Trip's breathing quickly turned into gasping as anger gave way to panic.

"It was my job."

"But why did you save me?"

Ignoring the threat of Trip's teeth, Mel leaned forward and put a hand on his head again. "Because you asked me to."

"I don't believe you." Trip's voice was little more than a gasping whimper.

"It's alright. Just - just try to calm down, breathe."

"I don't.... I don't... I don't believe..." Trip's whole body shook. He fought for breath as a powerful wave of nausea rolled over him. He leaned over the side of the bed and vomited on the floor. Seconds later, his eyes rolled up into the back of his head, and he collapsed.

***

A loud wail echoed through Lillyvale town hall, a cry of sorrow that filled the musty halls.

Dallet and Jace stood a few paces back from a large wooden table in the central meeting room of the town hall. A body lay upon the table, draped in a red sheet marked with the emblem of the Lord's holy Order. A young woman with dark skin and long brown hair knelt on the floor beside the table, surrounded by several other mourners, all muttering words of encouragement and pity.

"Edmund Duke was a dutiful servant of the Lord," Jace said after a few moments, stepping forward and offering a hand to the wailing woman. "His efforts to make Lillyvale safe and secure will not be forgotten."

Hesitantly, the young woman took Jace's hand and allowed herself to be guided back to her feet. Dahlia Duke's typically fierce dark brown eyes were filled with tears as she sniffed and bowed her head.

"Th-Thank you, Agent Alyard..." Dahlia sniffed, accepting a handkerchief from Jace. "E-Edmund always spoke very highly of both you and agent Baskerville... He truly loved his work, a-and you both were such a help to him."

"It was our honour, madam," Dallet said, his voice barely above a mutter.

"I just... I don't understand why... Why would Edmund run back into the Chapterhouse when it was burning..."

Dallet started to answer, but Jace cut him off. "He was attempting to locate any other agents that the fire might have trapped. He was a hero."

Dahlia took a shivering breath and wiped her eyes again. "He was always so thoughtful... so brave... I just can't believe he's really gone."

Jace smiled sadly and gently placed a hand on Dahlia's shoulder. "Edmund Duke has most certainly earned a place by the Lord's side, and she has undoubtedly received him in honour and grace."

"His death will be avenged a hundredfold." Dallet stepped forward, placing a hand on his chest and bowing his head to Dahlia. "I swear it."

"A-avenged? I... I thought the fire was an accident?"

"That's still being investigated," Jace said quickly. "In the meantime, have you decided how you would like to proceed concerning the funeral?"

"I... I'd like him laid to rest on our family property. He- He always said he wanted to... To spend more time there..." As she spoke, Dahlia again burst into tears.

Jace and Dallet watched silently as the other mourners guided Dahlia out of the hall. In her grief, she reached out and grabbed hold of the sheet covering Duke's body as she passed. The fabric fell away, revealing a badly charred corpse. Singed flesh barely clung to the scorched bones. Dahlia let out a shriek of fright and sorrow before falling limply into the arms of those attempting to guide her out of the hall.

As Duke's widow was carried away, Jace replaced the sheet over Duke's body.

"You shouldn't have said that," Jace said, smoothing the sheet. "We wanted the people to think that the fire was an accident, at least until we had some kind of proof otherwise."

"We have the proof we need." Dallet jerked his head at the corpse. "His shield belt was taken, and we found that shield rune in what was left of his pocket. Add that to the fact that we can't find any trace of the lapine..."

Jace nodded, his expression grim. "It would seem the Lapine managed to escape, along with half of the slaves from the dock."

"He was let out."

"We have no proof."

"We'll find it," Duke growled, spinning on his heel. "And when we do, not even the Lord herself will stop me from gutting the bastard responsible."

"If he was let out, we have a bigger problem than finding him again. It could mean we haven't managed to destroy the rebel cell he was a part of."

"Then we'll root them out and annihilate them for good this time. By the time the Bishop hears of this, we'll have their heads-"

"The Bishop has already been informed of what has happened here."

Dallet froze midstep. "What?"

"I sent him a telegram yesterday. He knows everything."

In an instant, Dallet spun back around, his face a mask of fury. "Why did you do that?!"

"It was my duty," Jace replied evenly. "As it was yours. But, since you didn't seem eager to attend to it, I took care of it myself."

"All I needed was some time!" Dallet's voice was little more than a shriek. "Now he'll think that we're bunglers! That we failed!"

"We did fail."

The words sent an icy shock of rage up Dallet's back.

"The docks are badly damaged, more than twenty slaves are on the run, our chapter house is in runes, and our captive has escaped." Jace nodded solemnly. "The fact of the matter is, we did fail. What we need to do now is reassess our position here and regain control of the situation."

"This... This is you... This is you getting in the way of my promotion!" Dallet clenched his fists as he stormed back towards Jace. "You know damn well that the Bishop was coming to honour me! I am a scion, chosen by the Lord herself to champion her cause! How dare you-"

In a flash, Jace grabbed hold of one of Dallet's wrists and pulled him forward. Seizing the back of Dallet's neck, Jace forced his head down towards the table.

"This is where your ambition has gotten you!" Jace pulled the sheet from Duke's body, forcing Dallet's face within inches of the burned corpse. "You did this, you created this! You squeezed, and you squeezed to get that 'cleansing fire' you wanted! Well, this is it! This is what it looks like! Breathe it in!"

Dallet fought back, but Jace's grip was like iron. He gagged as the smell of burned flesh filled his nose.

Jace forced Dallet's head lower with a snarl. "You got what you were asking for, so don't whine now that you've gotten burned!"

Dallet tumbled backwards as Jace released him. Dallet coughed and retched as Jace stood over him, glaring down his nose at his acolyte.

"You're no scion. You're not 'chosen', you're not a soldier, you're just a wounded little boy who never grew out of his pain, and so you've taken to inflicting it on others."

Without another word, Jace turned and strode away, his footfalls echoing through the hall.

End of part 42