Open light. As they raced their pace was slowed by sudden sunlight; dawning too quickly over the stooping towers of Lulled Imirka. Darkness gave way, long shadows shortened, and everyone nearby held a hand over their eyes against the unwelcome bright. It had been a moonlit evening only moments before.

“How unsettling.” Woid fussed with his fancy shirt, having there spilt a drop of blood from before that he could not see until now.

Shay asked for him:

“Do you know why this is happening, Serib? Or how?”

∞

The girl took a deep breath before speaking: “Before I met Lay’d Payn, my master and the elements taught me something was wrong. Something is missing from reality.”

“Definitely is.” Woid was getting distracted by betting windows - the path ‘back’ being not at all the way they had come, a development Shay could not have planned for. “I’ve already seen this death match, I know who wins. Unless the loser got up out of their grave…” Woid spoke to the gravity of flashing screens.

The back of Shay’s hand met the back of his head and she next saw him at the end of the following street, having moved his attentions along.

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∞

“Why is it here now?” he remarked at the age-mangled entryway to Shuttle Eight. “It’s in the same place, but we were walking towards it, then away from it, and now we’ve found it anyway.”

Shay sighed almost into despair, seeing bright engines in the distance of the station; a shuttle already having left. She hoped it was not theirs. Though before she could begin recalculating her way out of the hopelessness, on cue a good hurry of souls came running or otherwise making swift their way-away from the station.

“Can you tell we-me what’s happened?” she asked one of them, not really hiding her voice despite her disguise, slurring her speech uncontrollably.

“Two nasty lookers are about to have a fight.” One answered, clutching their crying child and continuing their hurry.

∞

Woid had already looked ahead and shifted back in his unusual way:

“Shay… is there another place we might get these seeds? Are they that rare? It’s just that you’ve not got your swords.”

She did not like the concern in his voice.

“That big Court-type I managed to turn away from your shop… he’s here - about to rough up with Panzjrah, or try to! Shay?”

“Stay close to me.” She told Serib, chasing opportunity.