When Kesla was arranging the groups, I’ll admit to being underwhelmed when she lumbered me with these two. When we were discussing the plan and making our preparations, all I saw of them was a couple of kids – capable certainly, they know their jobs, but they’re both so disconcertingly fresh faced, the bakaneko full of easy smiles and jokey nature largely used to hide his clear nerves. As for the half-elf, sure, we’ve seen what they can do, they’re Order-trained and clearly powerful, but they’re nervous as hell, and that can be a dangerous thing under these circumstances.

At least that’s what I thought.

I don’t think I’ve ever encountered anyone so unnervingly quiet as Art of Shadows. I’ve been raised amongst thieves and bandits and mercenaries, I’m used to nefarious folk and learned early on how to be stealthy, but watching the young prowler at work is quickly becoming a masterclass of the craft in action. He was raised by the Thieves Guild, I’m told, and they train better than anyone in Tao, and coupled with his race’s natural talents this makes him a veritable walking shadow, perfectly silent and completely undetectable. Turns out his easy-going nature does nothing to blunt what he’s capable of when he tries.

Gael Foxtail’s a little more complicated. They’re twitchy, and they clearly don’t like all this sneaking around, and I still find myself checking them out every once in a while when we’re trying to be particularly sneaky, but they have a far tighter check on their nerves than I expected. More importantly, they adapt quickly too. When something comes up to complicate things, they roll with the punches, and more than once they’ve come up with clever tricks to solve the problem, or at least work around it. They’re scared, but it doesn’t affect their functionality at all.

Not that I’m any more comfortable, under these circumstances. We’ve made decent progress in the time we have, but along the way we’ve had to ambush and stun four people, and I’ve known each one personally. By and large I’ve left that up to Art, letting him do his thing while I hang back to just point the way, but I’m not enjoying watching it happen at all. I’ve got a sickening weight in the pit of my stomach that seems to get worse with every blow struck, every unconscious friend we’ve had to hide, allowing Gael to work a passive illusion to shield them from discovery. It’s my betrayal in action, and it’s eating me alive from the inside.

Maybe I’m the liability here right now. It’s a sobering thought I can’t quite shake.

We pull up just under a broad staircase leading up into noise and light, and as I look over the other two I can see the tension growing in them. So far it’s been pretty smooth sailing, but from here things get a lot trickier. Down here it’s mostly just storage, but up there is the first major obstacle – the kitchens. To get where we’re going this is the quickest, most direct route. I’d prefer taking them round through the barracks, this time of evening there’s less chance of us running into any large groups, but on our timeframe it’s too much of a long and winding route. To make our rendezvous, we need to take the risk.

“Maybe you should just walk up there like you own the place, cover us on the way through?” Art grins nervously. “Y’know, like a distraction.”

“By now I’m probably no more welcome here than you two.” I sigh “It’s been too long. The guards on our way up told me as much, they know something’s up. They know we pulled a fast one, so they’re looking out for me. Even if the ones working the kitchen aren’t in on that little detail, my mother’s likely put guards in there too, just to be sure.”

“How can you be so sure?” Gael looks up through the broad wooden steps above us, even if the angle means they wouldn’t be able to see anything anyway. “Maybe she overlooked that little detail.”

“I thought about it, and I think like she does. She doesn’t overlook things.”

Art frowns. “Well we could do it. In theory. But if anyone sees us –"

“I know.” I growl with more venom than intended. I hate this. Taking a deep breath, I slide out from behind the barrels that have been providing us cover. “I’ll go first. Go quiet, go fast, and stay low. If I have to improvise, just … I don’t know. Don’t do anything … crazy.”

The look the two of them share does not fill me with a great deal of confidence. Looking in all directions before I move again, I take a deep breath and move to the side until I’m of a reasonable height with the staircase. Instead of moving round to climb I pull myself up onto it from here and take another moment to scan my surroundings again. Nothing. Looking down I can’t really see them anymore, which was, I guess, kind of the point. Even so, I reach out my hand and beckon for them to follow, and after a moment I catch fresh movement below, thankfully only because I’m already looking for it.

Trusting them to make their own way, I continue up the stairs, moving with quiet caution despite the raucous noise coming from the kitchen above. Better to be safe than sorry. I stop a little shy of the open doorway and shoot a hand out to stop the others, regardless of where they are, and since I don’t hear anything from them I just have to assume they caught it. Taking another deep breath I close the gap and chance a very careful glance around the corner.

Shit … they’re everywhere. These are big kitchens, built to feed a substantial fighting force so they’re designed to be manned by a few dozen staff to prepare substantial, hearty meals for hungry soldiers. There are several preparation stations lined up throughout the huge, vault-like room, surrounding a substantial fire-pit over which three spits have been arranged, although only two of them currently have hefty haunches of meat turning on them. The whole back wall of the chamber is lined with massive ovens, each capable of reaching temperatures hot enough to fire pottery, never mind roast food.

On a quick count there’s at least a dozen people in here too. Most of them seem to be working on preparing meals, piling platters or filling jugs, ready to take upstairs to the mess hall, but there are a few scattered about who are just watching what’s going on. Even if they weren’t conspicuously armed, their watchfulness is too clear to miss. Damn it, there are times I really hate being right.

Just as I’m pulling back someone moves comes around the corner and I duck out hard, my breath stopping as I shove myself back against the wall and start praying to any god that’s listening. They don’t see me, and it’s a blessed relief, but they don’t continue round like I was hoping, instead stepping through the doorway and turning onto the landing right next to me. I freeze, wide-eyed and tense as they walk right past me and start down the stairs, then stop dead just like I have before they’re three steps down. Shit …

Looking down I see Art and Gael have frozen in place too, both too surprised to do anything but stare dumbfounded at the new arrival. I snap out of the trance first and shove myself away from the wall, hoping to intercept my friend before they can do something that’s going to get us all killed, but even as I move they’re starting to turn, mouth opening as realization blooms on their face. I recognise them now, it’s Nera. She’s not one of the fighters, she just travels with the convoy and helps out with various jobs, and she’s always been really great with the kids. She’s got one of her own on the way now, she just told me two weeks back, she was so excited …

Gael raises a hand and I throw my own up, wanting to shout at them to stop so bad, but I’m too late. Before a sound can leave either my own mouth or Nera’s, the wizard’s whipped out a quick sigil and spoken one of those strange words under their breath and my friend freezes again. It’s not a regular pause this time, though, I see something flash through her for a moment and then she’s stiff as a board, eyes wide and mouth open as a little puff of frosty breath clearly poofs from between her lips. For a few moments she’s a tiny bit shiny, and as I reach out to touch her she’s suddenly rigidly hard to the touch.

Turning to the others as they start to make their way up again, I glare at Gael and hiss: “What the fuck did you just do?”

“Shit … I’m sorry, I just reacted.” Gael stops a few steps short and looks over their handiwork. “I froze her. It’s all I had time for.”

“You swore … you promised me, damn it! You swore you wouldn’t … she’s pregnant, you fucking idiot! You just turned a mother and her unborn child into a fucking ice sculpture.”

Gael winces, their cheeks flushing bright red, and they fumble for several moments, struggling for words. “I’m sorry, I didn’t have time to think up something gentler … she’s all right, I promise, she’s not actually frozen, she’s fine, they’re both fine. It only lasts for ten minutes and then it’ll wear off. No lasting effects, I promise.”

“And what do you propose we do with her in the meantime?”

“Um …” Gael falters again, drawing in on themselves a little now. “I don’t know …”

“We’ll just have to leave her like this.” Art mutters as he ducks around Nera’s petrified form, beckoning for his companion to follow. “Hope nobody finds her too quickly. Maybe if they do they’ll be too baffled to work out what it actually means, might buy us some time. But we can’t be here with her when they do.”

Glaring daggers at him, I grit my teeth and throw my hands up into the air, barely fighting off the urge to howl my displeasure right here. He’s right, of course. “Damn it … yeah, we need to move. But I’m really not happy about this. Please don’t do anything like this again.” I point at Gael as I say it, transferring my hard stare to them. They nod, clearly feeling terrible about the whole thing anyway.

Letting go a deep sigh, I move closer to Nera as Art passes me and Gael tries to follow him around this latest obstacle, laying my hand on my friend’s hardened shoulder and leaning my forehead against her suddenly ice cold cheek. “I’m so, so unbelievably sorry about this, I promise I didn’t mean for any of this, I swear you’ll be fine and your baby too. I’m sorry. I don’t have any choice, I have to do something or we’re all doomed. I swear, I’m going to fix this. I hope you can forgive me.”

Pulling away, I push past my current companions and wave them back before they can turn the corner into the kitchen itself, crouching low now and leaning in as much as I dare to check. There’s still no clear passage, every path seems to have someone in it that’s bound to notice three people trying to sneak through, and while some of them aren’t fighters there’s enough that are to make things messy once an alarm’s raised.

“We can’t go this way, it’s a mess.” I barely breathe, trying to be extra quiet now.

“There’s no time.” Art growls low “We have to move now. Never mind the living icicle back there, we need to make our rendezvous on time or this doesn’t work. You insisted we do this quiet and careful, so –”

“I know!” I hiss at him. Looking back, I search for any possibility, but there’s no way we can go that doesn’t entail too great a risk. Reluctantly, I turn to Gael. “Do you have anything that could make this whole room fall asleep at once?”

“Not this many people in one go, no. There’s too many of them, and they’re too spread out. I could maybe get half of them, but then the rest would notice, don’t you think?”

Scowling, I bite back the retort that springs to mind, and look back. Just as someone moves out of the way and suddenly there’s a gap. A tight one, and it’s risky, but it could work. I don’t even bother saying anything, I just slap Art on the shoulder and hope he knows I mean for him to follow as I duck in and start scrambling forward as fast and low as I can.

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Skirting the near wall, I hug the counter as close as I can as I skuttle across the warm flagstones that have been polished smooth by many years of foot traffic, largely holding my breath the whole way, hoping and praying and going out of my mind with worry. My eyes are constantly whipping about, looking at everything at once as I move, and I’m listening closely to everything even though there’s a hell of a lot of noise in here all going on at once. I’m barely aware of the others keeping close behind me, thankfully moving as quick but also quiet as I am, and I’m hoping they’re staying as low as I am.

Stopping just shy of the end of the counter, I don’t bother signalling for them to stop this time, trusting them to mind themselves this time. Thankfully they have the sense to hold up, and there’s a pregnant moment of expectation as I take a deep breath and chance another glance out into the open.

Gods … this would be so much easier if the door was directly across from me right now, instead of a ten foot stretch back along the wall, in open view of at least three people. I lick my lips, evaluating our chances. They’re … not terrible, but not great, either. Maybe if I time it just right …

One of the guards walks up along the wall as I’m watching and I draw back as much as I can while still maintaining a watch. Damn it … Kassor, another half-orc like me. He’s a sharp one, it took me a long time to get good enough to beat him when we were playing hide-and-seek as kids. He’s going to make this tricky.

Except that he stops six feet short of the door and starts talking with Yelinn, and the moment they start chatting away I know we’re good. These two have been dancing around each other for months now, flirting like crazy but still so reluctant to just commit, and I’ve seen them go on like this for hours. I signal to the others to follow me, but carefully, and take another deep breath before ducking out and heading straight for the door.

There’s a heart-stopping moment just as I reach the door when I think we’ve been discovered after all, but it’s not a shout of alarm after all, turns out Yellin’s just burst out laughing at something Kassor said, and three of the others closest to them join in. My heart’s pounding all the same, and I almost slip on my backside but manage to maintain my footing and momentum and reach the doorway without incident. I press my back to the wall the moment I’m through and let my breath go, then I jump again as something moves past me, but it’s just Art ducking after me with Gael hot on his heels. I resist the urge to grab and shove them past me and instead look back into the kitchen, gritting my teeth while I check to make sure we’ve passed unnoticed. The laughter continues and it seems to be spreading, so for now we’re good.

Letting my head drop back against the wall, I take several urgent, desperate breaths, willing my heart to slow in my chest as I sink down into a crouch against the wall. My nerves are good and shredded now, and I’m not sure I could move again if I tried right now.

Then a hand touches my arm, very gently, and I almost draw right here, ready to take their head off as my eyes snap open. It’s just Art, and I stop short before I kill him. He waves me down before I speak and points his finger down the corridor we’re in and then up it again, then down the third corridor moving off directly across from the doorway we’ve just come through. Which way now? Breathing out as slow as I can, I fight to regain my bearings, then remember myself again. I nod to the right.

Art goes first now, pretty insistent about it after I came so close to melting down after we cleared the kitchen. I’m not entirely sure I blame him for that, I feel like an idiot right. This whole infiltration’s just getting to me, it looks like, and I’m genuinely starting to count the seconds before something finally goes really wrong for us. How likely are the chances that it could be my fault?

We’re close to the staircase we need when the door at the end of the corridor opens and someone comes through, and all three of us freeze on the spot. It’s too late, we’re already spotted, the one in the lead stopping dead as he takes us all in. Damn it, it’s Farley, with Goff and Levik in tow, and as I watch Libbit and Nill come through after, chuckling over some private joke that peters out as they stop short behind the rest.

Farley looks Art over, frowning deep, and mutters: “Wait a second, ain’t this …” Then he spots me and his eyes go wide. “Shay, what the hell –”

He doesn’t get a chance to finish, and his hand’s only starting to drift for the sword at his side when Art’s baton smashes into his face hard enough to snap it to one side and he goes straight down spitting bright blood and teeth. There’s a moment of shocked surprise for everyone as we watch him go down, then Levik breaks it, going for her axe the same moment that Art just tosses his baton aside and draws his sword, left hand already going for the long knife on his right hip. No, no, this isn’t happening, not yet, not at all, please …

It's too late, things have already gone bad and I can’t do anything about it, it’s just shitty luck after all. Levik shoves Goff out of the way while he’s still fumbling with his own sword, too surprised yet to get his shit together, and as she swings at Art with a growing war cry he simply drops into a wide-footed stance I recognise from my father and skewers her clean through the chest before she reaches him. She just charges right onto the tip of that fucking sword, I can’t believe it. Her swing falters long before it can hit and she fumbles the axe, which drops harmlessly to clatter across the floor, and spits blood as her legs give out. Art pulls his sword free and steps back as she topples, wheezing more in denial than shock at her mortal wound.

“Stop …” I barely breathe it the first time, and it’s lost in the noise as Art simply lights into the next threat, Goff finally getting himself worked out and coming with more wary control now he’s got his sword out. “Stop!” This time I manage to shout it, but nobody’s listening, and I watch Art turn Goff’s stroke with almost contemptuous ease before jabbing three times into his torso, and all my friend can get out is a winded gasp as he slumps against the wall, clearing the way for the rest.

“FUCKING STOP IT!!!” I scream it at the top of my lungs but nobody reacts, they just keep fighting. I feel a hand grab my arm and round on them to find Gael looking at me, sad and a little stricken, and at first they don’t seem able to get any words out.

“Shh … Shay … Shay, it’s too late.” They’re trying so hard, I can tell. “I’m sorry, it’s too late, it’s happening. You need to fight. Nobody’s listening now, it’s too late. We have to fight.”

“What the fuck is goin’ –” Kassor’s come out of the kitchen, stopping dead a few steps further, clearly finding it hard to work out what’s going on, further confusion landing when he sees me. Then realization must hit, and he draws his sword. “Shay, stop right there! Drop your weapons! Your mother says you’re to come with us right now!”

Opening my mouth, I’m still trying to work out how I’m going to reply to that when Gael just turns straight round and mutters under their breath, and something erupts from the tip of their staff, a blazing bright blue glob of swirling light I’ve seen Garnon cast a few times. It hits Kassor in the chest and knocks him a good twenty feet back down the corridor, but there are more spilling out of the kitchen now, and they’re not pausing much when they see what’s happening. Swords are being drawn, axes unslung, and they’re coming right for us. Gael takes two more down with their magic as they come but the rest are closing fast, and that cold, pragmatic part of me is pretty much screaming at me that I can’t dance around this anymore. There’s no more choice for me here, I’m going to have to start killing my friends.

“THEY’RE HERE!!! THEY’RE HERE!!! SEND HELP!!! SEND EVERYBODY!!! THEY’RE HERE!!!”

Nill, that sounded like, screaming her lungs out. That does it, we’re fucked. Whatever stealthy advantage we might’ve created, what the others might’ve managed in their own insertions, it’s done now, we’re spotted and the alarm’s been rung. I don’t need to see anything beyond this little corner of the fortress, I know full well that every blade in this place is now being drawn, and reinforcements are already mustering. If the others haven’t been spotted already they will be any moment now. The fight’s started in earnest already.

Damn it. I really hoped we would’ve made it further than this.

Gael backs up hard as the first in the new group arrives, and they don’t even bother crafting a spell this time, instead just swinging their staff round to give Habb a vicious crack around the side of the head as they dodge his sword thrust. I can’t hesitate any more seeing that happen, it seems to be the final spur I needed and I just react, drawing my sword and rounding on my own opponent. Lethna.

We’re both surprised by our shocking reunion, but she’s evaluated the situation already and is clearly prepared to act accordingly. I have to admire that even in the face of our friendship she’s still going to do her duty. It doesn’t make it any easier as I finally draw my own sword while sidestepping the slash that’s already been aimed at me, and as I duck under the swinging blade I come up low and fast, ramming pretty much the whole length of my blade into her stomach. We come face-to-face as I rise through the stroke, and Lethna’s as shocked as me that it’s actually happened. She opens her mouth and coughs a spray of blood in my face, and I almost let go of the sword still stuck through her, I’m so thoroughly mortified. “Shh … Shay … what …”

“No … No … gods, I’m so sorry, please …”

“Shay, come on!” Gael’s at my side, and I see three more sprawled on the floor behind Lethna. I know all of them. “We need to move! There’s no time! Remember the plan?”

Yes. Yes I do. We still have things to do or this won’t work. I look at Lethna, find her staring at my sword rammed right through her, clearly still more surprised than hurt. This isn’t a lethal wound, I finally realise. I put my hand on her shoulder, give it a squeeze. “Forgive me, please forgive me. I didn’t want this.” I’m as careful as I can be pulling it out again, praying with every inch that not to make this a whole lot worse.

Lethna just frowns, confused now. “Shay, I don’t … what are you …” Then she starts to collapse, and I help her as gently as I can down to the floor. She winces, hands immediately going to the wound, and what hurts me more than anything else today is that the next thing I see in her eyes is anger. It’s not hate, not yet, but it’s coming.

“I’m sorry …” I barely breathe it as I stumble back, unable to tear my eyes from hers. Then Gael comes up and elbows me, since their hands are full, to snap me out of the trance.

“Move!” I really can’t believe the word’s coming out of that mouth with such force, but I can’t help just reacting when I hear it.

As I scramble away from Lethna, I see Kassor’s finally getting back up, shaky and clearly out of sorts, but he’s coming back to himself. As he stumbles forwards he raises the sword he’s somehow still holding, and points it at me. “Shayline Swift-Kill! Stop where you are!”

“Forget this shit, Kassor! Help her!” I point to Lethna. “She’s still alive, there’s still time! Help her!!”

Stopping short, he blinks in surprise at my words, seeming to have trouble working out what I mean, but then he looks down as Lethna tries to sit up, grasping the wound in her belly tight as she bleeds all over the place. She’s breathing fast through gritted teeth, but she’s still lucid, and I hope with all my heart that that’s a good sign. Kassor drops his sword, focusing on his wounded friend as he stumbles forward with greater purpose.

I’m already pulling back, and as I turn away Art’s already done with his own fight, and it hurts to look at what’s left. The others are dead and he still hasn’t got a scratch on him, and I’d simply be astounded by this young warrior’s skill if it wasn’t my own people lying bloody and butchered at his feet as he whips his blades clean. It’s not until I reach him, unsure if I might not simply attack him myself as I approach, that I realise Nill isn’t among the dead.

Well no, she wouldn’t be. Nill’s a half-orc, as much a fighter as me, but she’s also a healer, she doesn’t like to get into fights if she can help it, so she would’ve done what felt more necessary in the moment – she went for help. So she sounded the alarm as she rushed up the stairs, hunting for aid and reinforcements. Art’s currently looking up the staircase as if to confirm my suspicion.

“She sounded the alarm.” I mutter, mostly to myself, but he turns to me all the same.

“That she did.” He looks down at the dead scattered around him, and I’m almost surprised by his face now – he looks stricken with regret over what he’s just done. “I’m so sorry.”

I want to scream at him, I want to shove him down and kick the shit out of him, I want to take my sword and ram it right through his adorable face, I want to just cut him into tiny bloody shreds on the spot. I want to kill Gael too, even if she has clearly tried her best not to kill even more of my friends. But I can’t because this isn’t their fault, any more than it’s my friends’ fault. We’ve all just been placed in this impossible situation and forced to react, so we did. I can’t bring myself to hate them now. Art tried not to kill, and so did I, right up until it became impossible. Now here we are.

“Forget it. There’s no time.” I jump onto the staircase, three steps up already, and pause for a moment to listen for anything coming from above. Nothing close yet, but I can hear voices further off now. Footsteps and the clatter of weapons and armour being readied too. Preparations are being made. “We have to move.”

Art gives me a wary look, then steps as carefully as he can around the scattered bodies to reach the bottom of the stairs. Gael’s already falling into step ahead of him, and I start to climb myself, spurred by their renewed determination. I’m most of the way up when Kassor calls my name and stops me in my tracks.

He's glaring daggers at me, and beyond him I see a few kitchen hands clustered in the doorway taking in the scene, wide-eyed and shocked by all of this. Yellin’s already come out to join him, though, on her knees at Lethna’s side with a cloth already pressed hard to the wound, but she’s looking at me too, seeming more sad and hurt than anything else now. “Why are you doing this?” Kassor pleads with me now.

“Because I don’t have a choice.” My voice breaks, but I have to get the words out before they choke me. “I have to stop this, and I have to do it now before it’s too late. I’m sorry” I turn away before any of them can reply, climbing the rest of the stairs in a rush and stumbling twice as I go. I can’t be in here anymore …