Blood pounded through Vaela’s body. It pumped all her anger and pain through her temples and the tips of her fingers. And what did Timura’s blood pump through her body right now? Even now, she was running through the streets to the Hoops arena. She’d get herself hurt. Or worse.

Vaela clenched her fists, squeezing her stick. She could protect her. If Timura gave Vaela her blood, she’d keep it safe in her own heart.

Vaela shook her head. Where had that thought come from?

She pulled away from Surah and stepped past him. He reached for her arm. “You can’t go back out there.”

She climbed up the stairs. “I’m going. And so are you.” She spun and pointed her stick, past Surah, and at Hermit.

He yawned and shook out his shoulders. “Me? Why would I do that?”

Her eyes narrowed and she stalked back down the stairs. “Because you’re the reason she ran away, you ass!” She stepped up close to him. He stood a head taller than her, but he still shifted uncomfortably under her glare.

“Well, I wouldn’t say that. She made–”

Vaela snatched the front of his robes. “You’re Spinning me a Cover so I can avoid the Church or…” She hauled him down until they were eye-to-eye. “I will beat the Shadow-loving shit outta you, shave you, oil you up, and sell you to your debtors as their mule.”

Hermit cleared his throat and extracted himself from her grip. “Ah, I see. You know, think I’d fancy a walk right now. Lovely weather we’re having.”

Vaela stormed back up the stairs with Hermit close behind. They exited into the butcher shop and Vaela closed the door. A hand caught the edge and Surah stepped through. “Hoops, huh?”

“You don’t have to come. It’ll be dangerous.”

“I know, but who else will heroically snatch you out of harm’s way?” He pulled Timura’s robe, several inches too short for him, snug to his body. “Besides, she has my favorite robe.”

Vaela gave his arm a squeeze. She turned to Hermit. “You. Cover as soon as we step out.”

He waved a hand at her. “Yes, yes. This isn’t my first time sneaking through a city, believe it or not.”

They ducked out of the butcher’s shop and Hermit rested his hand high up on his staff. Shadow flowed out like steam and formed a nebulous cloud over them. “Keep to the natural shadows and we’ll basically be invisible.”

Vaela crept along, staying close to buildings. Only the occasional passerby filtered through the streets and, after a minute, her chest eased. Maybe the Church had given up for the night?

They turned the corner and a priest sprung into sight from across the street. She jumped back and flung an arm out, pushing Hermit back. Dammit, what was he still doing here? She peeked around the wall. The priest who’d pursued them before paced down the street, craning his neck to peer down the alleys he passed. He was no longer Sniffing the ground, at least. She pulled Hermit and Surah close. “Their Hound is still out there, but it looks like he’s lost our scent.”

Hermit snapped a quick look around the corner. “He could actually Smell you two? How infrequently do you bathe?”

Vaela glowered at him. “He got a whiff of Surah’s blood.” They had to cross the street, but the shadows didn’t extend to the other side of the street. Even without smelling them, if the priest looked up at the wrong moment, he’d see them when they crossed. “Cover us completely, we’ll make a quick dash to the other side.”

“Full cocoon–got it. We’ll be blind, you know.”

Vaela eyed the pockmarked cobblestone street. If any of them so much as kicked a stone, let alone tripped entirely, they’d be found out.

Surah glanced around the corner. “He’s halfway across. We could just wait–he’ll probably be gone in a minute or two.”

Vaela squeezed her stick. “We can’t wait. Timura is already way ahead of us. What if, by the time we get there, it’s already her turn to fight?” She shook her head and looked at Hermit. “Full cover.” If the priest looked towards them, hopefully he’d think it just a trick of the light. At the very least, it wouldn’t reveal her and Surah as the ones passing by.

The Shadow above them expanded and darkness descended. It encompassed them as the Shadow reached the ground. Hermit’s hand settled on her shoulder and she reached back and grabbed Surah’s hand. He squeezed her tightly and she could hear his choppy breathing. She felt it too–the almost suffocating sensation of no air in the pitch black.

Just move. Only a few steps. Her feet felt stuck to the ground. So dark, no air.

Timura needed her.

Her lungs burned and she shuddered in a small breath. It was now or never. She stepped into the open street, hands stretched out in front. Without the wall blocking them, she could hear the priest’s footsteps. Her heart pounded and she sped up, practically running across the street. Her foot sunk into an indention and her toes caught the edge of a stone. She stumbled forward, desperately trying to keep from following.

Her palms hit a wall and she caught herself. She released an explosive breath and they filed around the wall. The Shadows melted away and Vaela glanced back around the corner. The priest continued scouring the other end of the street. She pulled the others along behind her and crept through the alley. Surah clapped his hands over his mouth, eyes wide with exhilarated glee and she nudged him with a grin. Sweet Peaks, that had been close.

After they’d gone a block, Vaela stopped to get stock of where they were. She spotted a red tavern with an eagle on the sign out front. “The Scarlet Fowl. It should only be a few blocks away, right?”

Hermit stopped short, an expression of horror on his face. “Don’t tell me you’ve never gone?”

She shrugged. “Never had much money to gamble with.”

He clapped her on the shoulder. “Now, see, that’s amateur thinking! You don’t actually have to have the money you’re betting. It’s more a suggestion. Like, you could produce that money if you happened to lose.”

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“So many of your problems make sense now.”

He rubbed his hands together. “Oh, this will be fun!”

She glanced at Surah. “You’ve never gone, have you?”

“Indeed, I have. You happen to be speaking to a Hoops whisperer. How do you think I afford my fine robes?”

“So it is actually entertaining? ‘Cause it always seemed crude to me.”

“Crude?” He and Hermit exchanged looks. Surah took Vaela’s hand. “My dear, it’s an art.”

Vaela rolled her eyes and shook him off. She started down the alley, waving them to follow after. “Okay, we are talking the same children’s game? Don’t two adults just wrestle to get their hoop on the other?”

Hermit caught up and shook his staff at her. “You’re oversimplifying it. There’s real strategy to the game.”

“Like what?”

“Well, for one thing, you don’t carry your hoop during most of the match. It’s traditional to drop it at the start.”

Vaela glanced at him as they neared the end of the alley. “That makes no sense. How do you get the hoop on them then?” She rounded the corner and two men in rust-colored robes sprung into sight, only a dozen feet away. She stumbled back with a shout. One raised an ax, while the other drew his sword.

Hermit stepped around the corner. “Well, you…” He stopped at the sight of the men. “Oh, excellent.” He patted Vaela on the back. “Here, let me show you.” The Shadow above them fizzled away and Hermit walked towards the men.

The priest with the sword raised a horn to his lips. A note blared, echoing through the streets. The other priest pointed his ax at Hermit. “We’ve no business with you. Step aside.”

Hermit smiled and stepped aside, waving an arm towards Vaela and Surah. She sucked in a breath. That traitor! She raised her stick and the priests skirted around Hermit. As the men passed him by, Hermit struck one in the back of the head. The man cried out and stumbled forward. Hermit pointed to the man. “Now, see, you start by knocking them down.”

The other man spun and swiped his sword at Hermit. He smoothly sidestepped and snapped his staff into the man’s shoulder. The man’s body whipped to the side and he fell to one knee. Hermit cracked the butt of his staff into the man’s skull and he collapsed, limp. “After that, you–”

The other man Leapt into the air, Jumping fully over Hermit, and Vaela gasped. A Strength wielder! The man’s ax cleaved down towards Hermit’s head. Hermit pivoted and it slid past him. The man landed meteorically, his legs Absorbing the tremendous impact. Hermit tutted and poked the man in the ribs with the tip of his staff. “Run along now. I’m teaching.” The man grunted and raised his ax overhead. He took a Braced stance and Swung at Hermit again.

Hermit ducked under the man’s arms and popped up slightly behind the man. The head of the ax Smashed into the cobblestones, sending fragments into the air. Hermit nudged him off-balance and the man took a large step. He spun around in time for Hermit’s staff to slam into his forehead. The man crumpled onto the ruined street. Hermit stood over his body and nodded to Vaela. “So then, you’d just”–he mimed dropping something around the man’s neck. “Hoop goes on and you win.”

Vaela stared down at the two unconscious priests. They should run, that horn surely alerted others of their location, but…

He’d made knocking out two armed men look so easy. And one had been a Strength wielder! If she could fight like that, she’d never be in danger again. “How did you do that?”

She uncurled her hands, one around her stick, the other throbbing with a dull pain. Hermit laughed and nodded to her hand. “If you wanted to bribe them, you’d need a lot more than that.”

The Coin rested in her hand, indents on her palm from the edge. She hadn’t even realized she was holding it. “I…”

Surah took her hand and raised the palm to his face. “What happened here? It looks like your palm is red.”

She whipped her hand back and flushed. “I Burned them. Uh, when I was escaping from the blonde priestess.”

“You Burned…?” Surah tilted his head and then his eyes widened. “You used my Warmth?”

Vaela hurried down the street, but Hermit strode around her and grabbed her hand. He squinted at it and looked back and forth between her face and her palm. “What happened?”

“An Ice wielder was pointing a Spear at me. I, uh, had to Melt it.” Shouts from several streets away rang out. Vaela pulled at her hand, but Hermit held it firmly. She stepped away. “Come on, we have to go.”

He lowered her hand slowly and released it. “You’ve been training to use Fire?”

“No!” Vaela hugged her arms around herself. “I’ve never, you know, taken blood before. I didn’t know you could.”

Hermit frowned. “Most Forgers can’t. Even if they wanted, they’re not strong enough. And those that are, it takes a lot of training.”

The image of Kaverlna burning Gerad’s chest flashed through her mind. How much flesh had she singed to do it so callously?

From the distance, several priests and priestesses appeared. One raised something to their lips and a note blasted out. A moment later, another note resounded followed by shouting several blocks behind them. Vaela cursed and grabbed Surah’s arm. “It’s under the apothecary, right?”

He pointed down the street away from their pursuers. “Mmhm, The Shining Scale, just two blocks or so. ”

Vaela jerked her head. She and Surah set off down the street, but Hermit didn’t fall in line with them. She glanced back. Hermit had returned to stand over one of the unconscious priest’s body. He pulled a knife from the man’s belt.

The clergy sprinted down the street towards them and Vaela waved at Hermit. “Come on, come on!”

He rejoined them and held the knife up. “Coin.”

“What?”

“Changed my mind. Maybe I can teach you something.”

“Not now! We have to go.” She turned back to Surah.

Hermit spun her around and put the tip of the knife to the back of his hand. “Do you want Power?”

She froze and stared at the knife. A drop of blood formed where the tip of the knife broke his skin. Surah pulled on Vaela’s arm. “We have to go.”

The clergy raced at full speed, only two blocks away. Hermit drew the knife across his skin and blood welled from the fresh cut. He held his arm out and the blood dripped onto the street. “Blood or run.”

The Shadow in the blood whispered to her. She couldn’t quite make it out.

Something important. A promise of Power, maybe. Of never running again.

Surah jerked on her arm, but she pulled free. She held the coin out, hand trembling, towards the dripping blood. Like a current, a raging river just beneath her feet. It was so immense, she could almost feel it pulling her.

Hermit’s blood spilled onto the Coin and she Pulled at it. The Power roared in her ears as if the river had broken through the stones and barrelled straight towards her. It slammed into her and cried out, falling to one knee. The Shadow coursed through her and she Wrestled to gain control over it.

Hermit had Sacrificed a few drops to her before and she’d been impressed with his Power then. But this. It was clear he had held back his true Power until now. It was almost physical, clawing through her entire body. It writhed under the constraints of her will.

Too much, more than she could control.

She gasped and held onto what she could, letting much of it slip away. The Coin wept blood which slickened her fingers. She Harnessed as much Shadow as she could, channeling it from her body and into the Coin. The rest of the Shadow bled away.

Shouts roused her from her efforts and she oriented back to her surroundings. A thin layer of sweat coated her body and she wheezed a few labored breaths. When had she fallen down? The clergy came into the focus, only a block away now. Two men and two women. Another blast of the horn, met by an answering call close behind them.

Vaela struggled to her feet and planted her stick on the ground, bracing against it. Surah shook her shoulder.

“–aela. Vaela! We have to go. Can you hear me?”

She squeezed the Coin and the Shadow brushed against her mind, like feeling an ox lean against her. Hermit bent down and peered into her eyes. He nodded slowly and smiled. “Not bad, kid.”

“Wha’ now?” she mumbled. Everything was still a little blurry. The colors of the torch-lit street sharpened and the cries of the encroaching Church members clarified.

Hermit straightened up and clapped her on the shoulder. “You meet me at the arena, of course.” He turned away.

“What do you mean?” Vaela took her first full breath since the Forging. “Hermit. Hermit?”

He strode away and waved without looking back. “See you two at Hoops.”

“Hermit!”

Shadow Wings unfurled from his back and spread out wide, covering him from sight. He melted into the shadows of a building.

The clergy charged down the street, only a hundred feet away now. Surah crouched next to her. “What do we do?”

She tightened her grip on her stick and raised the Coin up.