Onder’s muffled shuffling woke Alize in the morning. She pushed her door open, remembering only belatedly Davram’s firm directive to knock.

Onder did not appear bothered. “Good morning, Alize.” he said cheerfully. “Breakfast is on the table. I’m visiting to the apothecary and perhaps later we will attempt to reinstate your magic. Which brings me to this,” he gestured to a stack of fabric, “courtesy of Davram. He said you should look the part.”

Alize rolled her eyes. “Where are the Sargons?”

“Sparring outside the city. They wanted to avoid attention.”

Soon after Onder departed, Alize perused through the garments. If I’m going to wear them. I might as well learn to move in them. She picked up several yellow and caramel pieces of fabric - how many dresses had Onder commissioned? - and sorted through them until she found a simple cream shift with long sleeves that fell around her loosely. She tested it, finding she could move her shoulders freely.

A knock rattled the door when she was well into her exercises. “Alize?” Davram’s voice rang out. “Can we come in – are you decent?”

“I’m fine.”

Kell opened the door and immediately faced downwards, shading his eyes with his hands. Davram did the same, looking away.

“What?” Alize said, glancing down at her torso. “I’m covered. You’re acting like this fabric is transparent!”

“You’re half undressed.” Davram objected. “That piece goes underneath all the others.”

“What? How am I supposed to know how to assemble this monstrosity?” Alize demanded, picking up the other cloth pieces still strewn on the stool.

“Would you like some help?” Davram asked.

Alize eyed the extra fabric again. There were long silken bands that would have to be tied properly. It all made her very impatient. “Fine.”

Davram gestured to Kell, who continued shielding his eyes.

“Oh stop that,” Alize snapped, swatting his hand down. “I’m more covered than usual! I cannot believe this is offending your sensibilities.”

“They’re undergarments, Alize. It’s not about whether it covers you - you’re not supposed to let us see it.” Kell murmured.

“Your Sargon culture is full of incoherent rules about modesty.”

“It’s not just the Sargons!” Kell began defensively. “You’ve grown up only around women, but-”

“Enough, you two.” Davram shook her head and grabbed massive piece of cream and red patterned fabric. He stood before Alize and held it open. “Arms through the openings.”

Alize adjusted it over her chest while Davram unfolded a thick red band around her waist.

Kell stepped behind her, pulling the silk ends so the center sat on Alize’s back. “The great Hrumi warrior, defeated,” he teased as he tied it closed. His palm grazed Alize’s back as he worked.

“Don’t test me,” she warned, though she could not help grinning a little bit at the wall in front of her.

Davram ducked around Kell to wrap Alize’s waist in yet another layer of cloth. “We stopped by the apothecary on the way back,” he said, his voice now serious, “Onder is all set up.”

“Then we go.” No room for doubt there.

Kell stood away as Davram squatted and tugged at the robe’s hem to adjust both sides to drape symmetrically. “How much do you know about magic?” Davram asked, glancing up to Alize.

“Hmm, a conservative estimate would be…” Alize considered, “almost nothing.”

“Then never mind.” Davram stood up and handed Alize a gold-laced cap.

“Should I be worried?”

Davram hesitated. “This is archaic and difficult magic. If anyone can do it, it’s Onder.”

Alize nodded as she adjusted the cap over her braids, but noted that Davram had not answered her question.

Kell did not join them. Davram led the way to the apothecary, wringing his hands.

The street bustled with people and twice Alize nearly collided with someone as she kept pace with Davram. She noted with annoyance that his self-possessed stride made the very same people step out of his path. He paused before a door frame embellished with turqouise tile mosaics.

A bell chimed as the door swung shut behind them. Inside, the air weighed thick with incense and dried roses. A wooden table brimmed with herbs and ashes, the surface stained with faded rings.

“Ah, good.” Onder said, emerging from a back room.

The man accompanying him wore the formal robe of a clerk and junior Magi. “Please, have a seat.”

Alize sat unceremoniously in the chair he indicated. As soon as the clerk turned from them, Davram bid her stand up and straighten her skirts, then sit down again. His terseness rankled Alize until he snuck her a smile. She accepted it gratefully, desperate to still her nerves.

“Now,” Onder began, “with the help of this junior Mage, we may attempt this spell. He will return your magic while I keep the other two magics from following it.”

“H-he is?” Alize glanced between Onder and the clerk, who bowed. He bore himself with upright posture, though Alize noticed chewed fingernails peaking from the sleeves of his robes. Next to her Davram also raised his eyebrows.

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“Yes. We’re very lucky someone of this skill was available - it will make my task much easier,” Onder answered. He closed his eyes and began moving his lips. Alize looked at Davram askew.

Davram placed his hand on Onder’s shoulder. “I don’t think she’s ready Onder.” he said quietly.

“Oh.” Onder opened his eyes. “What do you need, my dear?”

Alize needed her own resolution. “Just give me a moment.” she turned to the clerk, “you know what you’re doing, sir?”

The clerk nodded serenely.

“Alize” said Onder, “I trust him.”

Alize breathed in. “In that case, I suppose I do too.” She did not want to think too hard about the significance of that statement.

Onder produced the vial of the swirling colors. He uncorked it and the chaos unfurled towards Alize, who tried to keep her face neutral. Onder’s lips kept moving as he slowed the speed of the magics until they stilled before Alize’s face.

The clerk watched in clear amazement.

Onder moved his fingers and the grey magic untangled from the vacillating mass. The three magics clung together, though the deep green and the white magics both stretched towards Alize. Onder tugged gently and the rippling white magic shot back into the gray, the two undulating in the still air.

Onder nodded to the clerk who muttered one soft word of power to release the green magic to Alize. She inhaled, but this time no sickness came. Onder carefully directed the whirling mass that remained back into the vial and corked it once more. He smiled, wilting in exhaustion even as his eyes glowed with satisfaction. “That’s all we needed to do, Alize.”

Alize swallowed, listening for the trees. She could hear only the muted noise from the street. Without any further words she pushed herself from the chair and left the apothecary.

A giant sycamore grew in the center of the small square and Alize held her breath as she approached. She climbed onto the bench built around it and pressed her hands to the broad trunk.

“Alize! Don’t stand on that,” Davram admonished as he arrived behind her. He held out his hands but Alize ignored them, remaining frozen except for the smile spreading across her face.

“I can hear them again!” She no longer cared if Davram knew this secret. She needed nothing more from him.

“You hear who?”

“The trees! Thank Rehsan!”

“Well, for now thank Onder.”

“Oh. Yes.” Alize jumped from the bench, stumbling over her dress in her excitement. Davram pressed his palms to his cheeks as she gathered her skirts too high, attracting pejorative stares from the pedestrians.

Alize found Onder pressing a cool cloth to his forehead. His hands trembled.

“Thank you,” Alize gripped his arm, smiling. Her whole body felt the lighter and the world seemed sharper, more focused. Alize saw the claustrophobia and filth of the city with new, impatient eyes. She needed to be in the forest, her home, the refuge of the dawn. “You have restored me.”

Alize reflected on how Onder had made her a promise in the forest, and she had taken a risk in believing him. But now it was all vindicated. She had everything she wanted. At least everything the Mage can give me. But even Alize’s renunciation seemed less dire now. Problems could be solved. She smiled broadly at Onder. “I shall not forget you.”

Onder stammered, “Forget me?”

But Alize’s mind was already far away, in the mountain forests, awash in light and tree chatter, in safety. That was familiar. That was home.

“Alize?” Onder’s voice cut through her thoughts.

“Mage Onder. I have to go. Please understand that I have to go.”

“Are you mad?” Davram interjected from behind her. He shut his mouth as he glanced at the clerk, who still watched them intently. “Look, Alize, we’ll return to our lodging and discuss this.”

“Discuss it?!” The blissful pull of the forest nearly suppressed Davram’s voice in Alize’s ears. She wanted to be on Josoun in that instant and it took an enormous amount of restraint to stand still. With her magic restored, she felt bold again. In her mind, she was ready to challenge Celillie, to earn back her place in her clan. “I appreciate your efforts, but I am not staying. You can’t seriously think…” Alize trailed off as she saw Onder and Davram’s distressed expressions.

Alize narrowed her eyes. What more could Davram, Kell and Onder want with her? They had completed their mission. Onder had his magic to study. There was no sane reason a Hrumi would ever choose to stay in a city, with men, an instant longer than she needed to. She was neither man nor willow. She had no place here.

But Alize tempered her impatience with the reminder of all the men had done for her. “Fine. We’ll discuss it. Let’s go.”

Her mind flowed over the city walls with each step she took. When they passed the iron gate, Alize slowed and Davram pressed her forward with no uncertain meaning, back towards the caravanserai. In their room, Alize began gathering her bag together.

“Alize, first of all,” Davram chided as Onder pulled the door shut, “you can’t just talk like that around anyone! There might be people listening!”

Alize whirled to face him, “Stop telling me what to do! This,” she gestured around her, “this is your doing! It’s the city dweller’s doing! I only meant to help out some poor injured man on the road and look where it got me!”

“Alize-”

“I’m not staying!”

Onder moved between them. In the bright sunlight his robe looked faded and frayed. “Let’s not be hasty. We need to consider your safety after everything that has happened-”

“My safety is assured so long as I am anywhere but here! And please, please understand that I appreciate your help. I truly do.” Alize watched them, their expressions so familiar, Onder fretting and Davram strategizing. “I don’t belong here. I’m not going to insult you by pretending I’m going to stay. And you certainly cannot make me.”

Davram and Onder exchanged a glance, almost as if they were evaluating whether or not they could actually force her to stay. Alize counted to five in her head before resuming cinching her sac shut.

Onder’s knees cracked as he sank into the bed. “What can I say to convince you that this is a mistake?” he implored. “You’re endangering yourself.”

“I’ve never been caught before,” Alize retorted as she slung her sac over her shoulder. “And I’ve been hunted plenty.” She turned to the door only to confront Davram, who stepped backwards to block it entirely. Alize rolled her eyes. “You can’t stand there forever.”

“Please, Alize.”

What would satisfy them? “Fine. By Hrumi tradition, I challenge you to hand to hand combat. If you win, I will stay,” she offered abruptly. “Right now.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

Davram frowned before stepping towards the bed to remove his coat.

Alize darted out the door and slammed it behind her. By Hrumi tradition, she did not have to humor Sargons.

“Davram!” Onder shouted, “The stables!”

Alize tipped a chair into the space where the door opened. She could hear Davram thumping on it as she bolted down the stairs, cursing the unwieldy dress she wore.

The caravanserai owner watched her round the corner with some concern.

Inside the stables Alize darted to Josoun’s stall and rattled the door latch. It clattered but did not release. Davram’s footsteps rang somewhere behind Alize and she groaned as she fumbled the mechanism.

“Alize!” Out of nowhere, Kell flanked her. “Did Onder’s spell work?”

“I’ll tell you if you would just open this…” Alize muttered through gritted teeth. Kell reached forward and undid the latch. Alize jumped in and onto Josoun in one smooth action, hiking her skirts up on her legs.

“Go!” she shouted as Davram arrived at the stall. Josoun leapted past him, rushing from the stables. Alize barely noticed the townspeople cursing after her as they crowded against the vendor stalls to clear her path. Hrumi and horse exploded from the city gate, kicking up dust as they bore north towards across the steppes. In the distance, she could find the mountains and their forests. Alize glanced behind her, but no one followed. The path stood open and her heart lifted.

She could not have known that in the stables, it was Kell who dissuaded Davram from pursuing her. “You’ve got almost no chance of catching her before she reaches the forest, and none at all after she gets there.”

Davram had shaken his head and thrown up his hands. “Then you’re going to tell Onder that you opened the stupid door for her!”