Now that the sun had set, the traffic had finally cleared up. I had to tie up the formal dress around my knees, the bodice making a sick ripping sound. I ignored it and plowed forward, jumping off of the wall and down into the roads of the Southern District. Other than a few blank changes of flags, a few new flowers, it was all the same as it had been when I’d grown up here. The same people, standing around and feeling important.

I turned around and held up my hands. “You need help?”

“Hardly!”

Cornelia jumped off, surprisingly spry for her age. I paused. Well, she wasn’t that much older than I was, was she? I looked down, just to check my knees were still intact.

When I looked back up, Cornelia was already walking north. I rushed to keep up, hobbled by the skirt. I thought wistfully of my cloak, still packed upstairs. I’d have to come back for it, Apis freed or not.

“Where do you think Duran will be, then?” She said.

We wound through streets, keeping a fast pace. We were both breathing a little hard, making conversation difficult. With the festival so close, the parties had begun to spread out. Now the sound of music and laughter was nearly everywhere in the city, lights out and images of beetles everywhere. It was almost enough to make me miss the city.

Then I remembered the crush of people in my mother’s house and shuddered. The distance between almost and enough was big enough to fit a lifetime.

“Wherever there’s the most trouble,” I said, and sped up.

I didn’t actually know if Kingshome would be open at night, but that was a problem for later. I didn’t want Apis to be forced to spend the night there if he didn’t have to.

It was in the heart of the Hammer, the legal district nestled next to the harbor. The beating, disgusting heart of the city. We passed across the bridge with no trouble from the guard- he was half-asleep, leaning against a piling- and made it through the haze of the festival with little difficulty. On foot, it was easy to cut through alleys whenever the roads got congested.

It was easy to tell when the familiar roads of the temple district cut out to enter the Hammer. There were no distinct signs, but you didn’t need them. The buildings stretched a little taller here, the lights burned brighter. The Hammer was the smallest district of the Capital. It was also the cleanest. The dirtiness here was all underneath the surface.

I swallowed as we entered the district, suddenly a little nervous. The guards had nearly doubled just within a block. I straightened up and tried to look respectable. It felt like I might have pulled a muscle.

“Keep it moving!” Barked one at me.

“I am moving!”

Cornelia and I avoided eye contact, but we walked a little closer together. There had been large banners hung, but they weren’t for the festival. It was just the flag for our country, the broken crown repeated over and over like it was the day of collapse all over again.

There wasn’t technically anything wrong with it, I supposed. The broken crown was our flag. It just felt… strange, to be here and not see a single symbol of the beetle, when the full-fledged festival was happening only a few blocks away.

“Very festive atmosphere,” I muttered to her.

“Better to keep moving,” she replied, and sped up. I had no choice but to follow.

We wound through a few roads before we finally came to the intersection. On the right rose City Hall. The dome shone in the light of the moon, silvery and slightly tarnished. The beheaded statues seemed especially grim in this light.

I glanced away, towards Kingshome. It was a squat building, quickly made out of brick and whatever else they’d cobbled together in the collapse. It had a shining roof, too.

Layers upon layers of swords. So thick that they made their own tiling pattern. If I squinted, I thought I could see the royal guard pattern on some of the hilts, but it might have been a delusion after too much time and not enough sleep.

Dreadfully useless, as a roof. Famous for leaking. I stared at them for a moment more, rusting in the night, before we walked up to the entrance. Four guards stood to either side. Above their heads, a brass plaque shone.

EQUALITY IN DEATH • TRUTH IN CAGES

“Well. Cheerful.”

I ignored Cornelia’s comment and stepped up to the guard with the largest plume in his helmet. These were the only city guards I’d ever seen with plumes, which indicated they were presumably even more dangerous than the usual ones. “I’m here about a prisoner,” I said. “His name is Apis. Brought here earlier. Ward of Andrena, about-”

Before I could gesture, a shorter guard stepped forward. Only when he started speaking did I realize it was actually a woman, her expression extremely exhausted. “Go inside,” she said. “The other ones already showed up.”

“What do you mean, the other ones?”

“With the bees,” said one of the other guards, which didn’t clarify anything at all. Still, I stepped inside, towards an echoing entryway.

They’d paved the receiving room in pennies from before the collapse. I stepped on hundreds of faces of the last king, which was rather disconcerting and definitely echoey. I had a brief thought about how much it must have cost in labor before I managed to make it to the counter, which was made of much more sensible wood.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“Hello,” I said. “I’m here about-”

“If you’re here about Apis, they’re already in the visitor’s room,” he said, and pointed over to his right. “I can’t release him until dawn. Technically, he doesn’t count as a visitor yet.”

He was pressing against something on his cheek. As he took his hand away from it to point, I realized it was a swollen spot, bright red. A bee sting?

I followed his hand anyway. “You don’t want us to- sign in? Prove who we are?”

“We’ve got forty guards on site. You’re two middle-aged ladies.”

That was soundly insulting. “Excuse you! I could do some damage.”

“Yeah, sure. Do you want to see him or not?” He was rummaging around for something behind the desk. As if he wasn’t even listening to me! I leaned over, ready to tell him about my qualifications, when Cornelia grabbed my arm.

“Do you want to succeed, or not! Really!”

I pulled back. She had a point. “Fine,” I said. “But this isn’t a concession!”

There were two doors out of the echoey coin-room. One to our left, where he had pointed. Another, a much more dense door, behind the counter. I gave it one last thoughtful glance before I moved left, with Cornelia.

The door pushed open under my hand. No lock.

There was a strange set-up there. A half-height wall divided the room. Seats had been set up on our side of the wall, and on the other side of the wall, the entire room was mirrored; right down to the door, which must lead somewhere behind the coin-room. I imagined dense pathways of cells, presumably full of deposed kings and horrible criminals.

Inside the room were three guards on our side, two on the other. Apis leaned against the half wall, manacled and smiling.

On our side, Duran stood on tip-toe, trying to see over the half-wall. He had the sword sheathed- excellent- and was holding up a bee hive (so that Apis could see it?)

I stuck by the door to try and check the rest of the room before I approached that. There was Servius, hiding in the corner and speaking to- was that Prisca? How had she come back? And Amatus was here, approaching me, of all people.

“I wondered when you’d arrive!” He said. He grabbed me by the shoulder with one big hand and shook my hand with the other. “The boy said you were captured, but you seemed like a slippery one to me. Figured we’d check the prison for Apis, and sure enough! And then, look at you. Right on time!”

I was still being shaken back and forth. I pulled myself out of his grip and tried to survey the room. The guards seemed as horrified by the situation as I was. How had the hive gotten involved?

“Why,” I said, starting with the most important thing, “Do you have a battle-axe out?”

“Didn’t want anyone to hurt the bees,” he said.

“…Right.”

I backed away and, against all reasonable caution, approached the bees. I was the paladin, wasn’t I? That should gain me something.

“Apis!” I said. I had to shout over the buzzing. “Are you well?”

“No!”

“I don’t know what you expect me to do about it!”

“Well, I don’t either,” he said. He smiled. The bees were landing on him, still. It was greatly disconcerting. “You showed up! I thought you were leaving.”

“Surely I didn’t say that,” I said. “Well- maybe I said that. But I thought better of it.”

“Because of Sylvia,” he said.

“Yes.” I squinted at him. “Did they hit you over the head? Is that why you’re smiling?”

“I’m just glad you visited. You don’t really need me for this, you know.”

Well. I supposed he was right. But… “Don’t be ridiculous,” I said. “I need someone who knows all of that temple nonsense if we’re going to break into the Spire.”

Duran turned towards me, beehive wobbling, and I ducked. “Why,” I managed, “Do you have that?”

“Oh, sorry, Madam Elysia!” Somehow, he hadn’t gotten stung. One of the mysteries of the universe. “The guards stole everything,” he told me, solemn. “We took it back. Look!”

Without much say in the matter, I found myself in the possession of a pair of what looked like silken gloves. They stunk to skies above of whale oil.

“…Thank you?”

“I found them in the vat,” said Duran. “Did you see the bees yet, Apis?”

“They look well! Please stop swinging them about!”

I held the gloves up and rotated them in front of my face. Was this… this couldn’t be why the land-lady had accused Apis. They would never fit him! They wouldn’t even fit me. Dreadfully small.

I shoved them in my pocket, just in case Duran felt like leaving them lying about anywhere else. Never good to take any chances.

“Right,” I said, turning to the rest of the room. The hive had been set down, and the bees were starting to calm. “We’re here until-”

Servius’s elbow was in Cornelia’s arm. She approached Duran in four rapid strides, now that the beehive was out of play. “You’ve had your fun. Put the sword down and follow me.”

“What? No!”

“Well, you’ve put your eyes upon him,” I said. “Surely you don’t need them both.”

Servius didn’t look too enthusiastic either. He was staring at the floor, face uneasy. What had Cornelia said to him while I was distracted with Apis?

“I swore to fulfill a sacred duty,” said Cornelia. I never quite saw her move, but every time I blinked, she seemed to be getting closer to Duran. “My Lady specifically requested I train you. You would have me give up? For a childish whim? For bees?”

Duran had backed up with every one of her movements forward. His back hit the wall. He fumbled for the hilt of the sword.

“No need to make a fuss. You’ll be trained at one of the finest houses-”

“I don’t want to!” cried Duran. He pulled out the sword, draw uneven. Cornelia had to step rapidly back to avoid the blade. “I already have an apprenticeship.”

“Put the blade away,” she snarled.

The guards in the corner were looking anxious. This was going to go badly, soon. I stepped forward and put a hand on her shoulder.

“Listen,” I said. “He’s made his choice. We both know Sylvia’s never going to check.”

Cornelia turned to face me, lips pressed into a tense line. “I am maintaining-”

“He was my apprentice first.” When in doubt, rely upon the ancient rules. “I have dibs.”

“What about Servius! He deserves freedom too!”

“Servius,” I said, gritting my teeth, “Is going to go home, have a nice bath, and enjoy some well-roasted boar with an apple in its mouth. Don’t worry about Servius.”

Duran’s blade rose. “Duran,” I said, “That’s an order. One problem at a time.”

All of the breath left Cornelia in a slow hiss when he obeyed me. I watched Duran out of the corner of my eye, but he didn’t move the blade any further; just kept it out, a threat. Cornelia kept a tight grasp on Servius’s wrist as she turned around, stomped out of the room. She didn’t speak to me again.

As soon as they were out of sight, I said, “Put that blade back in the sheath.”

It shimmered, with some sort of magic, in the right light. Had it always done that? I shuddered at Andrena’s mention of it. An abyssal blade.

The corner only held Amatus now. He had pulled out a grindstone somewhere and was now scraping it along the edge of his axe in an uneven rhythm, whistling to himself.

“Sorry,” said one of the guards, “But aren’t you going to leave, too?”

“We’re waiting for a pardon to come through,” I said. I ambled over to the side of the room, slid down to sit next to Amatus. “My guess is that you’ll hear of it by dawn.” I stifled a yawn with a hand. My mother had promised to interfere in the bureaucracy of the Capital to help me, but I wanted to stay and monitor to make sure she’d actually come through on her promise. She sometimes had… creative ideas of her own.

“Sorry,” he said. “Do you actually mean to stay here?”

I leaned back against the half-wall too, raising my brows. “I thought your job was to keep people in. You’re welcome.”

His partner made a vague gesture, a rolling motion of a hand. If I remembered my gods correctly, she was praying to the beetle for time to move quicker. I slumped down and took off one of my boots, tipping out a rock. I agreed. Time couldn’t move quickly enough.