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It was clear enough to Unity that Balogun was reaching her limit.

Anger boiled in the girl so completely and hotly that it almost brought a flush to even her charcoal black skin. Brown eyes narrowed, square jaw tightened, thin nostrils flared. Every muscle in her face seemed to contort, as if pinning shut the pit’s gate.

It was an admirable show of self control. Certainly compared to how she’d managed in their last meeting, where emotion had proven stronger by half than the girl’s meagre will. Perhaps Balogun would make a serviceable mystic after all.

“And then of course there was the fact that Ajoke here-”

“Don’t use my first name, Eden. We aren’t so familiar as that.” She interrupted.

“- Wasn’t giving a particularly good speech in the first place. Really I did her a favour, looking back on things.”

“You called me a whore in front of five hundred people.” The girl snapped, all pretence of etiquette abandoning her as Rajah’s eyebrows shot up.

“You were being a whore.” Unity shrugged, feeling no need to raise his voice. The riposte didn’t need volume to compound its logic.

“That’s it.” Growled the Írìsi, standing in a whirlwind as her lips pulled back to a snarl. Unity was on his feet first, all too aware that any tavern brawl was a physical one. Calling on his pitiful flesh, rather than plentiful magic.

However the confrontation might have gone, Unity didn’t find out.

A familiar face caught his eye, froze his thoughts, turned his head and boiled his blood all in an instant. Apparently noticing his pause, Balogun and Rajah fell silent too. Watching him as he stared at Unison.

Unison stared back.

Seen from a mere twelve feet, his face was placid, if worn. Eyes bloodshot enough that their dakaran-crimson irises appeared to be leaking into the whites. The days had been hard on him, it seemed.

Good. It might make him more amenable.

“Unity.” The man said, punctuating his greeting with a nod. “A word?”

“That was three, dear brother.” He answered.

Snark didn’t deter Unison at the best of times, but that barb failed to even make him blink. Without another moment he turned, making his way to the exit almost at a march.

An urgent matter? Or just in an urgent sort of mood? Unity followed his brother, deliberately slower. Exiting a dozen seconds after him.

It was evening outside. Time having drained away, the hours sitting in his belly besides sloshing ale. Udrebam had grown cold while he revelled, the winds sharp. They compelled him to speak, eager to hurry the conversation so that the tavern’s warmth might embrace him all the sooner.

“What’s this about?” He asked, fighting the shiver as it tried to shake his voice.

Unison took an infuriating pause, though Unity held his silence for its length. Knowing that any complaints on his part would only make it stretch all the longer.

“What’s the relationship between you and your teammates?” He asked at last. The question was a casual one, almost disinterested. Deliberately so, Unity wagered.

“Well, we’d never met each other until a few days ago. Then an astonishingly massive Taik with astonishingly massive tits told us we were to work together and kick the pit out of a dozen other people in front of an audience.”

Unison was unimpressed by his wit.

“I’m asking a serious question, Unity.”

“You’re asking a stupid question, Unison. And so you received a stupid answer, as might have been predicted by the great mystic alchemists of Stimsanra.”

Unison seemed confused for a moment, letting it ooze into his voice.

“Are you having an off day, or have you lied rarely enough to grow out of practice recently?”

“Fuck you.” Unity muttered.

That’s the issue with brothers. They’ve more practice seeing you bullshit than anyone else.

“You’re cold.” Unison said, as though it were worth saying. “I’ll leave you to go back inside faster if you just answer my questions.”

“I’ll be inside faster still if I tell you to fuck off and leave regardless.” He observed.

“You would.” Agreed Unison.

A pause, then Unity swore once more. Bluff called.

“They mean nothing to me beyond their ability to help finish the Sieve as soon as possible and be done with this tiresome city.”

The truth tasted bitter and oily. Soured further by the fact that Unison had squeezed it from him.

“I see.” Said his brother, voice still quiet. Head still tipping slowly into a nod.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Unison eyed Unity, all innocence.

“Don’t play dumb.” Unity continued. “I know that smug look. What’s it hiding?”

“Nothing at all.” Unison replied. The look didn’t leave his face as he fell into thought, continuing after the briefest pause. “It’s just…odd, to see someone take a serious wound to protect a boy they’re completely indifferent to.”

The fucking spear to the arm again. Will that ever be forgotten?

“How often do you see a person incur a serious wound for the irritation of one who won’t leave them alone?”

Unison sighed.

“Unity, it’s your own time being wasted.”

“No.” Unity answered. “It’s not. And you don’t know me as well as you like to think, brother-mine.”

He turned, fighting his own rebelling instincts and walking back into the comforting heat of the tavern. Vividly aware of Unison’s eyes searing his back with every step.

Lavastro held her nerves tight as the carriage moved, smooth street tiles beneath it having long since given way to the sporadically slotted, worn cobbles that carpeted so much of the slums.

They rattled the vehicle. Proving a greater challenge than the careful stability of its make could equal. A noise to thread her every thought with trepidation..

One not helped in the slightest by the rhythmic tapping of a heavy boot upon wood.

“Stop fidgeting.” She snapped, turning to glare at her bodyguard.

The Wrathman, unfazed, met her stare with a more placid one. Looking apologetic after a moment, regretful after another. Yet the tapping of his foot began anew only minutes later.

Lavastro didn’t bother repeating herself, knew it would make no difference. She simply turned to a window to bury the noise in Udrebam’s sight. It was a wasted effort.

Yielding mortar and rotting wood did little to calm her nerves, and she turned back into the carriage. Sickness churning her stomach.

They were just minutes from their destination when a new sound caught her ear, bringing her eyes once more to the Wrathman just as he pulled a snuff box from his nostril.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

He caught her gaze, flushing and stowing the object away.

“It’s not what it-”

“Arcstock crystals.” Lavastro guessed, seeing by his surprise that she was right.

“How did you know?”

“You’re far from the first magiphage I’ve met, Kleidra. I’ve known others who had as much grasp on their abilities.”

He accepted the explanation in silence, relieving Lavastro by saving her mention of the Spadai. That conversation, she knew, would quickly turn sour. Eager to bury the topic, she spoke more.

“I think you’re wasting an expensive resource. Bob Danielz is among the strongest Immortals living, whatever benefits you receive from taking that meagre magic into your body will make no difference to him should he decide to attack.”

“If there’s any chance of that then you shouldn’t meet him.”

Lavastro held her temper tight, reminding herself for the thousandth time how little the man knew of her situation.

“That isn’t an option. It would stain Taiklos if I refused to attend.”

“It would sentence me to death if you got yourself killed by a damned butcher.”

“You are not important!” She snapped, turning her gaze to him in all its intensity. To his credit, the Wrathman met it unflinchingly.

“Not compared to a nation.” Lavastro continued. “Certainly not an empire. If Taiklos is dishonoured, already seen as a nation of savages by so many, it will struggle diplomatically. Losing trade along with respect. Resources will become scarcer in parts, and those already near poverty will find their situation worsened further. People will die. Few on the continental scale, but still hundreds. Perhaps thousands. All because I was too much a coward to enter a situation in which there was never any risk to begin with.”

Silence loomed for a few moments.

“You don’t know that.” Kleidra said, uncertain. “You can’t know that. This is just a guess.”

“I’ve spent the last six years of my life being tutored to as high a standard as the Taikan Empire could manage, precisely to ensure that I can, in fact, know that.”

Kleidra’s eyes hardened.

“Don’t feed me horseshit. Maybe you’re in a better position to guess than most, but that’s not the same as being certain.”

Lavastro might have chastised him for the disrespect, had she not cared so much more about the sentiment it conveyed.

“And are you certain Danielz will attack?”

He hesitated, and Lavastro seized her chance.

“We both die here perhaps one time in a million. If I shirk my duty and refuse to attend, the consequences I described would be more likely to occur than not. The good of the empire takes precedent over a single man, Kleidra. No matter who he is.”

There was a strange look in Kleidra’s eye. Halfway between disbelief and disgust, as though he were gazing upon a madwoman.

“Not everyone in your empire cares about it. Not everyone’s gained from it. You should take a trip to Wrath some time, ask around the trenches and starforts for what people think of the ones who put them there.”

Shock mingled with anger in Lavastro’s gut, tightening her fists as the Wrathman glared defiantly. His eyes, such a deep brown as to be near black, didn’t so much as flicker. Seeming to glint, even burn, from hate alone.

“Very well then.” Lavastro answered, speaking slowly. Finding it the only way to remain in control of her rage. “Then what of the hundreds you’d be sacrificing for your own sake?”

He didn’t shy from her glare instantly, and for a moment Lavastro thought the man was entirely shameless. Then his eyes dropped, jaw tightened. Point surrendered.

So there is some self sacrifice in you after all. Not a complete worm, then.

The wagon slowed with a grinding creak as wheels caught once more on rough terrain. Kleidra turned to Lavastro just as her hand came to rest on the handle of a door.

“I need to make sure it’s safe outside, stay put for the moment.”

She swallowed her curses and waited for the soldier to finish his checks, feeling a great self consciousness swell up within her as she did so.

He acts like I’m a baby. Deaf, dumb. Too idiotic to take care of myself. A good bodyguard, at least.

A knock upon her door signalled the Wrathman had finished, drawing Lavastro out. Even as she shut the carriage behind her, Kleidra peered around in all directions. Foot still tapping, eyes still flicking. Fingers no less uneasy as they lurked near the trigger of his musket.

She wasn’t surprised as he hurriedly drew his snuffbox out once more, bringing it to a nostril and inhaling deeply. Lavastro’s skin tingled as magic sprouted in the man, then she frowned at the feeling of its disappearance.

Of course. Magiphagi don’t hold magic like us, they eat it.

A shiver ran down her spine at the wrongness of it, then she turned to look around. As much for a distraction as any great hurry.

Lavastro had carefully memorised the maps detailing Danielz’s location, though found the difference of perspective between the downward illustration and the streets around her difficult. It took long, frustrating moments to mentally adjust.

She nearly laughed upon realising it was needless.

“We’re to find him in the largest building.” She said. “Largest in this corner of the city, at least.”

Nodding to a disheaveled warehouse, she spared Kleidra a glance.

“That seems to fit the description, by my eye.”

He grunted in assent, yet still glanced around him.

“Where are the people?” Asked the Wrathman. “This place isn’t long abandoned, I saw clothes hanging on lines. Smelled fresh… things.”

Fresh shit. Lavastro decided, having smelled that very scent herself. Doubtless poured out onto the streets from bedpans.

“This is a Sieve carriage.” She explained, beginning her walk to the warehouse. “Unixians like to colour their vehicles, make them identifiable at a glance. This one bears the mark of a mystic.”

“Right.” Answered the Wrathman, following a yard behind her. “So everyone’s run because they saw the equivalent of a cocked pistol riding their way.”

His tone bordered impudence again, and Lavastro didn’t like it one bit. She held her tongue regardless, finding a more pressing concern in the walk towards Danielz.

They soon came to stand before the warehouse’s door. A tall structure, but one dwarfed by as many buildings in the city’s heart as not. Lavastro found herself hesitating as she brought her knuckles up to rake against the wood, worry suddenly holding ten times the sway on her.

Kleidra’s eyes on her back were what forced Lavastro to act, and before she could doubt herself the knock was already ringing out through the building’s belly.

When the door opened, it did so in as mundane a way as Lavastro had ever seen. Her spine still tingled in response, thoughts still scattered. Legs still weakened as if before a headsman.

Something dwelled in the darkness before her, presence apparent only as a feeling. An unseen knife to her throat.

The creature hiding under a bed.

“Show yourself!” Lavastro called out, sublimating anger in place of fear. Her voice echoed throughout the building, drawing forth no response. Only sharpening her terror.

Then something uncoiled from the gloom. Seeming to appear rather than merely emerge, moving towards her with a tiger’s stride. Ropes of feline muscle bringing a monstrous grace and instilling every motion with barely contained power.

She steeled herself, meeting the approaching figure with unflinching eyes even as the sight turned her bowels to water.

Lavastro was an educated woman. Educated enough not to have expected a monstrosity or demon when she met Danielz. Yet it was her first time seeing a butcher in person, and a single glance made it clear that all the books in the world were poor preparation for such a thing.

He was a man of extraordinary height, inches taller than even her.

His eyes were obscured by darkened spectacles, yet the weight of his gaze allowed little doubt that he stared at her. Yellowed, jagged teeth peeked out behind split lips as he grinned a monster’s grin.

It was like staring into the face of a snarling wolf, made all the more terrible knowing it had the mind of a man. That it was a thinking beast, a cunning abomination.

A sentient weapon, with a voice rougher than serrated steel.

“Alright there, love? I was wondering which of you would be sent to meet me. Glad it was you.”

Unity found Crow deep in conversation with the giant Balogun had entered with, while the Írìsi herself spoke intently with Rajah. Speaking with Unison had left him disinterested with irking the girl any longer, and he took his seat beside Crow accordingly.

It seemed to surprise the boy, giving him pause midway through a sentence and turning his head to Unity.

“Oh don’t let me interrupt.” He said, waving a hand dismissively. “I just didn’t want to take a seat beside the superbitch.”

Crow flashed a painfully forced smile, then turned back to the giant.

“I hadn’t considered what the Sieve must be like for people who can’t read, but thinking about it, not being able to recheck task objectives would drive me insane...”

For a moment Unity considered cutting in anyway just to mock the boy, yet he paused. And, after a moment of thought, found himself remaining silent.

Crow seems to be enjoying his talk.

Unity could guess why, the giant’s accent betrayed a common region between them. Still he found himself confused.

Crow’s enjoying the talk, but what do I care?

Unison’s face swam in his mind, smug and knowing as it seemed always to be. Crow’s grinning face served as the final piece he needed sort for his brother’s puzzle to be complete.

The bastard thinks being on a team is rubbing off on me.

Glancing at Crow once more, feeling the satisfaction that flooded him at the boy’s smile, he realised how tempting it was to believe.

Tempting, but all the more dangerous for it. Unity had learned well enough that he was not a creature to make friends. Unison could love him in that stupid, irrational way brothers were able to love. That was all.

He took a long, deep drink. Eager to hide the sudden disquietment in his gut.

Crow was a good person, and the boy would doubtless realise what Unity was sooner rather than later. He couldn’t hide the bitterness that sprang from knowing as much, but he could stuff it away for the time being. Long enough to enjoy his masquerade while it lasted.

Long enough to section off the molten-hot jealousy wounding him from within.