Rega tilted her head so slightly that Aida wasn't entirely sure she didn't imagine it. Flanking her on the other side stood another tall, armored female Dynast that Aida gradually realized must be Sava.

"Oh, you survived the Directory. Can't imagine that was much fun. Hope you don't mind that we buggered off."

Sava's gaze shifted from her mutual staring contest with Wake and took in all of Aida with on dismissive glance. "Lost half my Legion fighting my way back out of there. I'll lose every man and women in the remainder if I can finish putting down the Rag rebellion here."

"We'll see what we can do to accommodate the first part of that," Wake snarled.

Aida turned to Aliasara. "I think we're winning on the witty banter front so far at least."

"Good," Aliasara whispered in her ear. "Because I think even with everyone together, the Legions still outnumber us. And we don't know whose side the Directory is on yet. Or... whoever the painted people are."

"Well, looks like we'll find out shortly," Aida said, nodding towards a gap that opened in the encircling Militant to allow Maxem and a handful of the fancy tank-knights to pass. About the same time, another opening peeled apart on the other side to let the painted trio in, plus a tall, likewise-painted woman whose long hair carried an large enough assortment of bones and charms to fill a basket. The woman looked grim as hell and even the painted warriors they passed gave the woman wide berth.

"Inro? You're supposed to be dead!" Jaxe half-shouted in surprise.

Inro apparently was the two-eyed, two-handed, buff guy. Aida wasn't sure she'd heard anyone with a voice as deep as his before as he replied. "Really? I heard all the Ancient propaganda about me going about destroying verses. Turns out it's the Mon and the Aj after all."

"Directory's been fighting demons and monsters in Ink for centuries," Maxem said blandly. She glanced at the tank-knights about her. "Keens are our weapon against them."

"So you're here to fight demons?" Aida said, frowning. "Sorry to break it to you, but we're lucky enough to not have any here."

"Yet," Maxem said, then shook her head. "But we're not here for that. We're here for something else entirely."

"Then whose side are you on?" Wake said bluntly.

"Which side of what? Your civil war or rebellion or religious feud or whatever this is?" Maxem said, with that way she had of sounding like they were talking about vaguely-popular 80s hair bands she didn't particularly care about. She glanced at Sava. "We're here to gain recompense for the death and damage the Legions wrought in Ink."

"Ha!" Aida said. "Take that."

Maxim looked at Wake, then glanced towards where the majority of Inkies set up around the Terrtle. "We also came to reclaim our people whom you kidnapped from Ink."

"Kidnapped?" Aida said, incredulous. "Don't you mean, 'people we didn't stop from leaving your depressing dystopia of a verse when they had the chance?'"

Maxem looked at her flatly, then sighed.

"Give them back to us," she said to Aida, then turned to Rega. "Then, you, you give us the leaders of the Legion that assaulted Ink and broke a treaty that's held for centuries. We've otherwise no quarrel here."

"We'll pay you to join us!" Jaxe shouted. "We're the Ancients, we now rule all the Book."

Maxem sagged as she looked at Jaxe. "The verses crumble under the weight of dead gods and floods of demon-spawned monsters. You own a shredded book, many verses of which you don't dare enter and whatever is left losing value by the day as your menials rebel in verses crumbling and cracking for lack of gods. The Directory is pulling back to its verses to fight the end; we've no interest in fighting here aside from claiming what is ours."

"If those people want to stay, you'll take them back over my dead body," Aida said, glaring.

"Even as leader of the Ancients, I've no authority to tell any other Dynast what to do," Rega said. "And I'm guessing Sava doesn't want to go."

Sava snorted and glared at Maxem as if daring her to do something.

"I thought if you could get three Dynasts and an Inviolate, then you'll be able to do whatever you want," Aida said, innocently.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"Unfortunately, we don't have an Inviolate handy," Sava said. "They're off trying to hold the Book together."

"Well, conveniently, I've got one here somewhere," Aida said, glancing back as Hassani pushed he way through the Militant. The woman's albino daughter and dark-skinned, gaunt husband trailed behind, the girl curious and the man hovering over her like the girl might vanish suddenly at any moment. Strangely enough, they'd also collected a tall, fat baby-faced man in dirty, loose-fitting orange robes and a cloth cap. The man looked completely out of place here, in demeanor and appearance both.

Turning back to the Inviolate, Aida saw something deeper riding beneath Hassani's feigned lightness. The woman appraised Rega the way a predator might look over a dangerous prey animal or territorial intruder. Hatred or vengeance or both burned in her eyes. Aida wondered what happened to bring about that intense an emotion, but knowing how Dynasts treated everyone, she doubted it was unjustified.

Rega seemed mostly unfazed upon seeing Hassani, except her lips pressed tightly together. On anyone else, it would have meant nothing, but considering it was the largest movement the Ancient leader had made since the stopped walking until that moment, maybe it meant something.

"How about we hold a Tribunal right here," Hassani said, glancing around. "No shortage of Dynasts. And an Inviolate to spare if that's Taesal I see arriving at the back of your entourage."

Aida glanced the direction Hassani gestured, seeing a buff, black-haired woman whose face bore a long white scar. The woman gave Hassani the Book equivalent of the middle finger and Hassani waved back, suppressing a smile.

"The Rags assaulted the Black Court, stole the Partaker, and thus broke the rules of the Black Court," Rega said. "Tribunals have no more meaning than any of the laws of the Book now."

"How convenient, now that you're potentially on the pointy end of it," Aida said dryly.

"What about you, Inro was it?" Aida said. "I've heard things about you, but most of my information comes from centuries-old stories."

Inro's companions had spend the whole time looking about at everything and everyone like curious children or gawking tourists, whatever their ferocious, savage appearance. Inro took everything in as if they were variable he was busy plugging into some complicated formula. All attention turned to him as Aida spoke to him.

"I, like the Directory tool there," Inro began, gesturing towards Maxem with a dismissive gesture, "have only two demands."

He pointed past Aida to where Eth stood behind her, chewing her fingernails down to the quick. "The Imminent killed Ebon during the Kiss. I've waited more than five centuries to claim vengeance for my mothers death and I'm not going to wait a day longer."

This caused tumult among nearly everyone, emotions ranging from surprise to anger to confusion to disbelief to outrage to skepticism. Aida turned to Eth, seeking confirmation. All she saw instead was a scared, confused teenager trying to hold it together and barely pulling it off.

"You don't even know do you?" Aida whispered as she stepped closer.

"I don't know who anyone is or what's going on. I just have a feeling that I've told myself for a long time that what's about to happen has to happen. It's not a memory since I barely remember anything, but it's a feeling."

As she hugged the trembling Eth, she wondering what it was about people across time and universes that made it seem acceptable to murder someone vaguely related to a tragedy to somehow make them feel like they'd fixed the old tragedy with a fresh one.

"What's the second part?" Jaxe said, chuckling. "We have to capture the Aj and bring it to you so you can put it back in prison?"

Inro looked at Jaxe, with a look of distaste. "No. I'll kill the Aj myself. I want Rega to step down and leave me in charge of The Book"

Most of the Ancients burst out laughing or shouted at him. Others broke into scandalized gossip or just stared in shock. Rega stood like a snake considering lunging at its prey. In the distance, the Draggin' moaned, the sound creating a minor quake.

"No," she said, the word somehow intensified by her strings so that even as quietly as she uttered it, the word cut through all other sound. "No. I've worked for centuries for this. Even the Imminent said it will all be mine."

"Look how well it turned out, now that you own most of it," Inro said, gesturing as if to encompass the Book. "Give it to me while there's still anything left to govern."

Jaxe laughed loudest, the sound coarse and forced. Suddenly he stopped, his face grim. "How about you leave now while you at least have your band of painted savages following you."

The look Inro gave him promised future violence, but Jaxe demeanor and affect fell somewhere between drunk and hysterical.

"I think loosing his verse destabilized whatever little he had mentally," Aida whispered to Eth.

"His moment of triumph is his last moment," Eth murmured, wiping her nose with her sleeve.

"What?"

"As long as we're making demands, I have a few," Jaxe said, drawing his huge sword and pointing toward Aida. "One, give me the Feral that paralyzed my arm, Mother of Shitholes. Two, turn yourself over to me so I can have my way with you. Three, let me take my pick of slaves among your people so I can repopulate the Stacks."

"Demons and monsters rule the Stacks now," Hassani said. "Those slaves would just be sacrifices at your funeral."

"Those are my demands." Jaxe planted the blade point-down then looked at Aida like he'd just remembered something important. "Oh! I have a gift for you, I almost forgot."

He turned and pushed through the ranks of followers behind the Ancients. Aida felt weight settling in her stomach, knowing whatever excited Jaxe was likely to be something awful.

She wasn't disappointed.

A moment later, he returned dragging what looked like a mummy behind him. They way Rega's Seneschal tensed up gave her warning. The stench of rotting meat that came with him drew dark looks and mutters even among the Ancients. Aida'd smelled that familiar smell far too many times. The weight in her stomach grew heavier.

Jaxe grinned and yanked the wrappings away from the rotter's face, revealing... Fallon, his visage familiar even with months of rotter-slowed decay. His milky eyes stared at nothing and he swayed, barely able to stay standing.

"I found your Seneschal, Mother of Shitholes," Jaxe said. "Had to scrape him off the streets of Jadeye and hustle him to the Crowmen before he rotted away, but I knew you'd treasure a reunion."