I slip my knives back into their sheathes, glancing around, seeing if any injuries were detrimental after the first wave. No one seems seriously hurt. A few limps, the fairies who over-exerted themselves are already back at home via a tiny portal curtesy of Queen Ambrose, and the humans are none the less for wear.

Red eyes is still dripping water and glaring, but he seems a bit more… reserved. Which I do not take as positive. He reminds me of Ran when she’s thinking of a prank which could potentially end in a missing limb.

I keep a tally on the creatures racing from my fear bomb. We might be attempting to flush vermin and monsters from the depths of the underground caverns beneath Risia, but that doesn’t mean I want them sneaking into the city itself.

King of all, please help this plan work, I pray.

I get nothing in return, but after all I’ve been through—that doesn’t bother me. He’s there. That’s enough, come what may.

I gasp, nearly dropping the last blade. A wave which shivers through my soul crashes over another set of creatures, from the direction of Silver’s crew. But it was almost a gentle wave crashing over the shore instead of the tsunami that sent my creatures running as if the hounds of Fifth were on their—sometimes literal—tails.

This is a gentle push, something I almost wouldn’t describe as fear but which would make me want to run for the very fact that what’s in front is not wanted and what’s behind is beautiful. With a shiver, I come back to myself. That was… oh my worlds, that was amazing. I really need to learn how to do that. It’s what I’m missing!

The general gives us the go ahead, and we take off after the creatures who are blindly running into a trap. As we run, we twist and turn down passageways which meet with a main road up ahead. The road is mostly straight with one Y, and there’s an Empath—the one who sent the gentle wave I nearly wish to feel again just to have the mere feeling of the gentle emotions and peace—there who will direct the creatures up and up into a place where the rest of the mages built a trap.

Apparently there is something called an active mage and craft mage—which are the two main sects of Gifts according to Silver. My only question is why the heck am I just learning this? This would have been useful to know long ago, but I suppose it would have been a bit overwhelming.

Just as it is now.

Anyway, active mages can throw around Gifts in the moment, for example, fireballs, water gysers, wind arrows, what have you. Craft mages are those like the one Jenny got to charm my black shirt and trousers for when I went on missions so it would be near impenetrable. They are near useless in a fight because their Gift takes time to implement.

But they are also some of the most powerful mages since their Gifts are near limitless, most only inhibited by the time it takes to produce. Their Curse is typically minor because the time taken to produce the Gift counts as part of the cost… or something like that. I don’t get all the technical parts, but suffice to say, if you can have a craft mage on hand, you sure as heck better use said craft mage.

Since we are done with stealth, the fairies light our way with their orbs, staying close with us as we follow the sounds of fighting, screaming, and gnashing of teeth as the creatures fight amongst themselves and run. Yeah, the last one was mainly due to large creatures with steel-like teeth. They gnash their teeth and it sounds like metal screeching mixed with a pig dying. Not pleasant.

I’m happy with how this is going at the moment. Just so long as my enemy is fighting each other, I have less things to kill.

A few of the more animal inclined of Gifts, sorta like myself but a few with ears that were pointed and hairy whereas mine just comes from Bonding with a wolf, wince.

We join Silver’s crew shortly after.

A grin slowly glides across my lips. Silver is between Red and Master of the Black.

It seems those two are having a lover’s tryst if Nika’s glares are anything to go by.

Silver—erm, Arin?—looks somewhat haggard, his doublet torn and his eyes cold as icy glaciers. His back is ramrod straight and his jaw is clenched so tightly a tic begins at the corner of his lips. But what gets me is his face. He’s nearly as pale as a whitewashed tomb.

I walk up, searching his eyes. “What’s up?”

“You were in danger and they wouldn’t let me pass,” he replies, voice deathly soft, his glance back is as terrifying as it is sweet. Protective as I’ll get out. But then his eyes return to me, beginning at my toes he makes his way up my body, searching for things I can’t define and making my cheeks heat.

I step up, eyeing him in return. I sit a gentle hand on his cheek, seeing the concern and fear radiating from every pore of his body—even someone without empathy could easily read this. Which is slightly terrifying. This is Arin we’re talking about. The one who gets stabbed without making a sound. And besides, we don’t need people knowing this, it can eaily be used against us, even by our somewhat allies. But seeing as he’s a keg about to blow, there’s nothing I can do but offer what comfort I can. “Arin? I’m fine.”

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He leans into my touch, catching my hand with his own. “You say that a lot.” But he releases a tiny breath of air and his body seems to uncoil.

I can’t help a wry smile, and that seems to calm him. Somewhat. “My question is: exactly who kept you from going off plan, coming after me, and getting killed?”

Arin stiffens, frowning down at me as his hand tightens over mine. “I would not have died—”

“That would be me, my lady,” Master Black says, bowing. Although his face is expressionless and his emotions are a black void where I should be getting a hint of something, there is something both wry and antagonistic about that bow.

“You took half the brunt, I thank you to remember. The rest you yelled for me to take!” Nika says, pointing at a bright red slash along her forearm.

For some reason, this makes Arin’s lips twitch. I glance back at Nika, who glares with pure hatred at the Black.

The assassin master doesn’t so much as glance at Nika, which makes her huff. Her eyes promise retribution as she takes out a stiletto and twirls it between her fingers.

“Thank you both. He’s harder headed than a Bamshee at times,” I say, patting my Silver on the chest—then pulling back with a tiny squeak when I realize what I’m doing. I jump back, blushing when I realize there are quite a few more eyes on us than should be.

Is that a glimmer of humor in the Black’s eyes? Arin actually scratches the back of his head, his face going completely blank but with tiny dots of color on his cheek and ears.

“Can we get a move on? The creatures are almost to the Y,” Ash says, coming up between me and the terrifying threesome.

The entire group holds it’s collective breath.

The assassin master looks at the boy with his dripping pants and shirt and immediate disregards him.

“Can I play with the proud boy? He looks fun,” Nika asks, watching the water drop from his chin.

Ash takes a step back at the predatory tone in her voice, and I step between her and her prey. I sigh, doing the one thing I’d hoped never to have to do. Stand between Nika and something she wants. And all for someone as golly good and joyful as Red-Eyes.

“Nope. Nope, not happening. He’d be more trouble than he’s worth,” I say, straightening my stance and bending my knees as I push Ash back, who protests and tries to push back, giving me a gush of cold water down my spine.

I shiver, turning to glare with pure hatred and feel something in my soul wanna lash out at the kid. But I hold it in check. Barely. “If you get me killed by being an idiot, I will haunt you until the day you die and then until eternity,” I hiss just over a whisper.

I twist around, blinking when Nika lays a cold knife at my throat, sending a shiver up my spine. “Never take your eyes off the enemy, girly.”

“Are you my enemy?” I jiggle the knife at her ribs and she looks down, seeing the sharp point poised over her kidney.

She grins. “I’ve yet to decide.” She pulls back, sheathing her blade.

“Why’d you not back me up?” I ask Silver.

He crosses his arms, a hint of a smirk playing around his lips. “When you play with fire for an idiot, you become the idiot.” He grins when I throw a blade, which he catches before it clocks him in the chest. “Besides, Madame was only teasing. Were it anything more serious, Madame would be dead.” He tucks the blade away, his eyes flicking down to where a new black bade rests in the sheath of the one Ash destroyed earlier. I pat it with a grin, and Arin’s eyes twinkle in mirth. I’m just happy I got me a new black blade.

“Careful, boy,” the Black warns, in a soft voice that carries steel beneath the gentle overtones.

Silver nods, but says, “Taken. But I will have none harm my choice, not even your choice.”

Silver is looking at me, so he doesn’t catch the grin Black throws at him. “So you say, boy.”

Silver hides a wince, but it seems the Black is merely teasing Silver instead of threatening. Kinda preparing him. He looked like a proud father when Silver stood up to him, but sure as heck wasn’t gonna let Silver know that.

“Are we going to move or not?” Ash whines.

I sigh. “Nika, I’m about to step aside. Please shut him up.”

Nika plays with a stiletto, putting the point to her lip and pouting. “Naw. It’s much more fun to take blood without permission.”

I shake my head, exchanging a grin with the woman as Ash goes on complaining about something. We may never be friends, but we’re not really enemies, either.

Thank the Good King.

She’s as scary as Silver, just in a different way. She’s a cat who’ll find all your weaknesses and play with them. At least with Silver he’s straightforward and will end you mercifully.

“And I have your boy to thank for saving my family. Without him, you never would have gotten my help again.”

I glance back and forth between Silver and Nika.

Silver nods. “Without the Guardian, I would have killed your father. She has shown me mercy is, at times, preferable to Justice.”

Nika glances over at the Assassin Master behind Silver’s back. A silent communication takes place, almost something both joyous and sad.

“Are they far enough ahead?” Arin asks.

I find the thread of dread intermingled with the gentle fear and drawing joy and find them nearing the Y.

But then I feel something else.

“Arin, the other Empath is about to be boxed in,” I say quickly.

He draws his shoulders back, eyes flashing. “Let’s move!” he shouts.

I join him in leading the pack of clicking and clacking and huffing and puffing mages and knights. Nika and Black flank us, with Hans and General Verand taking the back to make sure no stragglers are left behind.

“Team Fox are about to be caged on two sides with no escape. We need an extraction. It will take a fight.”

“Can we push the Bamshee quicker so as to clear the tunnel before them?” Ash asks, sticking his nose where it might get cut off. He thinks these things are Bamshee? I nearly snort a laugh. Before either of the guild leaders answer, a woman in a black coat with rabbit fur along the edges speaks. “No. The creatures are interconnected and they will feel the draw of the other. It is, in fact, what has taken them down this tunnel. Our terrified creatures screamed for help, and their pack is answering.”

Oh, shoot.

“This is going to be a bloodbath,” I whisper.

Arin doesn’t say anything except for clenching his jaw and increasing the pace.

I connect with my Gift, searching for… something. Something to use. Anything to do. It’s too early for the Opes—and that’s if Natasha was even able to bring it.

And then, like a bright spec of sunlight, I feel the warmth of my best friend and companion.

I hate caves.

Ran?

Why didn’t you wait, idiot?

You are chasing after your bea and Wolfsbane. You don’t need my problems.

Her voice goes soft. Sis, we fight better together.

A grin crosses my face when a thought catches my mind. What about the Eldertrees and creatures of the forest?

Pride blossoms over the bond. You are growing, my sister. Now you’re thinking like an Alpha. The creatures of the forest hate the abominations as much as you. Call upon them and they will help.