The shadows were wrong.

The shadows were moving far too fast.

I glanced up. A glob of molten glass crested the lip of the crucible.

For the briefest moment, a bright orange liquid gem hung over our heads.

Gravity brought the drop of glass plunging down.

I could not look away, transfixed by the glow.

The light grew impossibly bright. My eyes snapped shut.

Something hit the tops of our crates, and I reflexively shrank into myself.

I heard the splatter of molten glass around me. Not on me.

The intensity of the light diminished enough that I could open my eyes again. Two humanlike figures stood over me. They were inhumanly tall and encased in gold-tinted metal armour with a sinuous shape and the texture of scales. Pure white wings spread out from their backs.

Moving as one, the radiant beings stepped down from our copper crates to the ground. Golden gauntlets reached for the locks and pulled them free in a fluid, effortless motion. A second such motion tore the cages' doors from their hinges. A seemingly careless toss sent the doors spinning into the massive fan blades, silencing both.

Two voices stronger and sweeter than any produced by a human spoke in perfect harmony. "You have been freed. Watch your step as you leave the cages."

I shuffled forward until I could stand, using my one arm to pull myself up. My muscles ached as they were finally used for something other than sitting in the cramped space of my cage. Beside me, Skids stepped free and stretched dro's arms wide while pretending not to look worried.

Our rescuers were over two metres tall and were standing right beside us. I tipped my head back painfully far to look at one's face. Her features were meek: deceptively mild with a promise of the utmost strength underneath. I almost failed to notice how young she looked. For a timeless moment she met my eyes. I felt judged, but could not see the verdict. She broke the moment effortlessly, turned away, and took a few long strides towards the cluster of clerics.

"Hear me, oh clerics," said the bright messenger of the Great Maker. "I am Skögul, trusted messenger of the Great Maker and leader of the Lightning Caller division. Let it be known that the Great Maker has seen the plight of the Pure since the loss of Nearton's Bend. Much hardship has come to the holy people due to the loss of resources and the restriction of that important transport link."

Skids and I exchanged confused glances. None of that had anything to do with freeing us.

"The Pure have endured well. Therefore, the Great Maker has seen fit to bless his people with a new gift: the air of the sun. With it, you may develop the means of moving freight about the sky, beyond the reach of the dangers of the land."

I gasped, and was sure that every one of the clerics had done the same. This gift would change so much for my people!

"Further details will be provided shortly. For now, you may take hope. The Great Maker hears all. The Great Maker sees all. The Great Maker knows all!"

The clerics chanted the refrain back in response, and the chief cleric stepped forward. "We, the servants of the Great Maker, humbly accept this glorious and generous gift! I will see to it that our artificers and designers will use it for the survival and betterment of all who walk uprightly in the holy light of the sun. Er... and what of the prisoners?"

Skögul spun on a heel in an instant, leaving her back to the chief cleric. She nodded to the other messenger, who reached down to pull the lock and door off the third copper crate. "You may collect all your belongings."

Skids and I exchanged glances again, this time hopeful ones. I could hardly believe it. Was this truly a rescue? I rushed to hobble over to the open crate and retrieved my handbag. It was a great relief to hold it again. Looping the strap over an armless shoulder was much less pleasant.

Beside me, Skids scooped up dro's backpack and our gloves, helmets, goggles. Dro looked down at the pile of our clothes from assorted sources and I followed dro's gaze. Some of the clothes needed serious laundering, while the rest were badly mangled. The latter had to be mine. "How about you take my trader cloak for now?"

"Yeah," I quickly agreed. The white prison dress was still not entirely dry, and I had not warmed up much since my chilling shower. "Is Chalice's diary still in your backpack?"

"Yeah, it's still here."

"Can I have it back? I've got space now."

"Sure," Skids said, handing it over. "Oh, and Sente's relic's in here too!"

"Would you kindly relinquish that to me?" Skögul said to Skids. It was not a question.

Skids quickly complied. "Er..."

"You have done well to deliver such a dangerous object into the custody of a messenger of the Great Maker. You will be rewarded with safe and swift passage back to your home."

Worry swept over me. Was I to be left behind?

Skögul turned from Skids to me. "Both of you."

That was not at all clear, and I desperately needed clarity. "Both to our own homes, or both to Skids'?"

"You may choose."

Oh. "I..." The room seemed to close in around me. I had to choose?

"Please, take your time," Skögul said with the softness of a bag of feathers.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

How could I decide? I'd long wanted to return home, but could I really? After what my parents had said to and about me. My father had said that he regretted what he told me in the hospital, and now wanted to say he was proud of me, but was that enough? If Mother could not accept me now that I was... damaged, could I bear to live in my own home?

But could I give up the chance to go back to my sisters and brothers, to the place where I belonged? It would not be for long. If I returned, I would soon marry Timothy.

I would also never learn anything else about magic, if I returned.

Part of me remembered that such thoughts were considered evil. I ought to consider my interest in learning magic to be a sign of corruption. That consideration was not so urgent as it once was, though it still worried me.

I decided that I could not yet decide. "Mighty messenger, if I may be so bold, could I please speak with my parents before I decide?"

"This is wise," Skögul said, nodding deeply. "Kára, fetch this one's parents. Gently."

Kára strode away on her impossibly long legs. She was a little taller than Skögul, with older facial features, lighter skin and curlier hair. I wondered how it was that Skögul was the leader when she looked to be hardly more than a child.

"I'll go change, if that's alright," Skids said, sounding eager to not be present for the impending confrontation.

Skögul jabbed to our left with a gauntlet, giving me a good look at the reptilian talons tipping her fingers. "I believe the office over there will be suitable."

Skids walked away with a bundle of clothes, not even glancing back at me. I felt a hint of betrayal. As Skids grew distant in my peripheral vision, my parents drew nearer. They were walking faster than seemed comfortable, with Kára right on their heels.

Kára abruptly stopped and motioned me forward with her talons. I started walking forward and met my parents about halfway between the two messengers. By some mutual unspoken agreement, we stayed out of reach of each other.

"My daughter," Father said.

"My papers. They are missing from my bag. I would like them back," I said. Even if I had not mysteriously overheard him talking about what he took, it was an obvious conclusion that he had taken them.

"I really do not think that is necessary. We can discuss this at home."

"Robert!" Mother said, gasping out the word as if she had been choking on it. "She could not possibly—"

"Silence. The messengers would not have freed her if she was corrupt. She can return home."

"I... have not yet decided," I said tentatively.

"Not decided? Nonsense, girl, there is nothing for you to decide. You have been through a terrible ordeal. You have been forced to do dreadful things to save lives, both yours and ours. But that is all over now. You can put all that behind you and show your true devotion to the Great Maker. That can only happen when you return to your proper place. Back in the light you can wash away the touch of darkness."

"Darkness, what darkness?" That was Skids, returning dressed in dro's own clothes. The black jacket was noticeably less black than it had been when we originally met. "We do have extensive lighting."

"Thanks," I mouthed soundlessly, relieved to not be alone with my parents.

"Damn the dark. Damn your lies. You will not take my daughter from me again," Father said, his glare growing more steely than I had ever seen.

Skids shrugged. "Charity? It's completely up to you. If you want to go with thall, I understand. You don't owe me anything."

"Thanks," I said, this time out loud. The last thing I needed right now was pressure from both sides. I turned to face my mother directly, determined to understand what was going on in her mind. I rarely saw her this animated about anything. "Mother. You don't want me. Why?"

She just shook her head. "You will never know." She said the words with such resolve that I absolutely had to know what was driving her. What secrets did Bellona Flora Aviga hold?

"My papers, father. And tell your remaining children I'm sorry I can't come back to them." I really couldn't, I was realising. I'd known I would have to give them up when I left Forrester's Crossing, but I had not expected to be the one making the choice. I could have chosen to return, and Father would have made Mother let me stay, but... that would not be home. It would be obvious how she really felt, and I could not let my siblings see her like that. I couldn't live like that.

Father reached into his jacket for the papers, exuding all the reluctance he could muster. "Take them. But we will discuss this again some day. I promise you that."

"Yes," I said, catching his hidden meaning. Not all of the papers were blank. I had written out the text of Chalice's final diary entry as I had deciphered it. Father must have read some of them while waiting for the glass drop. "I... I am sorry I could not save Chalice," I said, partly to change the subject but mostly because I felt I had to.

"That was not your responsibility, but I thank you for trying," Father said softly. Mother tugged at his sleeve. He ignored her. "I am sorry it cost you so much. I am sorry all of this cost you so much."

"I... I did wrong," I admitted, blurting out the words. "I chose to jump on the train. And before that too. I read books that were not meant for me." And now I wanted to know about magic. "I'm not so perfectly devout as you thought."

"Ha, the girl was ruined by dark influences long ago!" Mother said in cruel jubilation. "And now she willingly walks away from the light. Come away from her, Robert, or you will be counted with her. You have already ruined your reputation enough."

Skids took in a deep breath. "You—!"

I grabbed at dro's shoulder before dro could yell more than one indignant work. "Don't. She's made up her mind. So have I. Let's get out of here."

The pair of awesomely tall messengers rejoined us and we made sure we had all our belongings. Kára lifted Skids up, cradling drome in a single metal-scaled arm. Skögul did the same for me. The metal skin felt warm and slightly pliable.

The clerics watched in silence, not daring to voice any dissent against the messengers' will.

"Are we going to fly?" I asked, feeling bubbling excitement.

"We rise, then we glide," Skögul answered conversationally. Then in a much louder voice she added, "Consider this a demonstration!"

A whistling hiss of gas preceded our rapid ascent. We left the ground, then passed through the open roof. The glassworks rapidly grew small beneath us. More and more of the shimmering City of Mirrors became visible, until it was like looking at a map, or an image of the region produced by Sente's relic.

I looked up to see whether the clouds were growing large above us. Something large and round blocked my view. "What is that?"

"The means of our ascent? It is a balloon filled with sun air. We rise like a sealed container pushed beneath the surface of water."

"Oh." What a great privilege this was. The privilege would soon be shared with all the Pure, but that did not diminish my enjoyment in the least. "May I ask a question?"

"You may ask two further questions. Consider this your reward for conveying the relic."

Two questions! Now that was an even greater privilege. "Why rescue us both? A child of light and a child of darkness. I do not understand why the Great Maker would deal with us both in the same manner."

"The Great Maker's ways and plans are far beyond your understanding, dear child," Skögul said. It felt so incongruous to be called that in a voice which — for all its inherent authority — sounded much younger than my own. "You each have great potential, and your deaths would be a waste. What that potential is, you must discover for yourself."

"Oh." That was a disappointing answer. While it was a reasonable explanation and a reminder of the Great Maker's nature, it didn't tell me anything truly new. I would have to make my second question a better one. "Where is Skids actually from?"

"You ask not for yourself but for your companion," Skögul said. The tone was one of judgement, and I could not tell whether it was a negative or positive judgement. "Skids' origin is not of the Pure, but also not of the Mages. Nor does Skids hail from the Traders or Raiders. No, your friend was birthed of the Titans."

As I pondered that proclamation, we rushed up through a cloud. The world briefly turned dim and foggy. After a few damp seconds we burst free, and an entirely new sight presented itself to me. I gasped.

"Yes, that is the Great Maker's home in the clouds, his airship. Look well, as you will not see it for long." Our speed of ascent diminished until we ceased rising, and Skögul spread her white-feathered wings. Beside us, Kára did the same. "Now, we glide to Wonambi."