The three of them stood high on a dune. The storm had blown itself out through the remainder of the night.

The slender woman called Camps, her long cloak on against the clear sky and hot sun of the day, shielded her eyes.

“I don’t see anyone. But this would be much easier if I still had my spyglass.”

“Yes. That one you shattered against my knee.” The broad form of the princess stepped up beside her. Muscles heavy on her tanned forearms.

They both watched as a mirror of mirages flicked and danced in the hot, calm morning far off around them.

“It was supposed to stop you from leaving.”

“How did that plan work?”

“You can still see that I’m still blessed with the glorious presence of the People’s princess.”

“Ishi. You see nothing?” the princess asked. Ishi stood on the princess’ shoulders, as deftly balanced as an acrobat, gazing out at the horizon with her optics. They had talked much last night. One of the things the princess had done was to get the girl to spell out the letters of her name. The little girl jumped down off the princess onto the sand, her long cloak billowing. She gave the signal for “no.”

The girl faced the opposite direction, away from where they had been gazing, touched her optic, and raised an arm. She flashed some hand signals. Camps looked to the princess.

“I know what that sign means now. ‘Keep walking,’” Camps said.

“Foolish,” the princess said. “The field marshall, the lightning corps, the clockwork cavalry is not far behind us. I’ve told you this. Once they catch us, you’ll have no choice but to go with them. They move faster than anything in the desert.”

Ishi flicked her some signs.

“Yes. Of course. Not faster than glider pilots. But this little glider pilot right now has no glider, now does she?”

More hand signals. The girl looked up at the princess indignantly.

“Your cloak is silly. It is too long. And heavy and hot, and no one can fly with a shaped cloak.”

More hand signals.

“I don’t care if you and your master Raj made it. It is foolish. He puts silly dreams into a child’s head…”

“You two can stop arguing. I don’t see any sign of your great and magnificent cavalry, so we keep walking. We made this girl a promise.”

“She is just a foolish girl we said we would obey. Last night. During the storm. This is now today, and the storm is over. If we walk, we use up our water. To continue to walk is foolish.”

A flurry of signals came from Ishi. The princess shook her head and replied, “No. We are not taking the staff to ‘Mine Redoubt Eight.’”

Another flurry of hand signals. The princess shook her head again and sat down.

“What did she say?” Camps asked.

The princess flashed Camps an annoyed look. “She says there is a rock ridgeline in the distance. She is going there. You have the staff now, and you will follow her. She says I can come and camp in the cool shadows out of the noonday sun, or I can stay here and cook and wait for my cavalry.”

“Well said, Ishi. I agree with you. Let’s go find some cool shade before this sun gets too high in the sky. The storm has slowed them, and they have no tracks to follow,” Camps said.

As the morning wore on, and the sun began to blaze above them, Ishi led them long across the dunes of sand steadily towards a rock ledge. They were bone tired, but still, their pace had been quick. The sand had been run with sheets of water in the storm, and because it had been hard-packed, their pace was steady, and they found long pools of water that were cool to the touch. The princess had remarked that it could have been snow melt. None of them knew how far they had come, but snow meant they were drawing near to the world’s edge.

They had picked their way high up into the rocky terrain. It had been more than a ledge; it had been a low cliff wall. Not tall but expansive, it ran off into the east and west, seemingly with no end. The sand dunes collected in waves at the cliff base about ten spans below them. They had found cool shade in the jagged top stones. Beyond the ridgeline, slabs of rock continued off into the distance without change.

Up top, they found fresh, cool pools of water. Camps used the sniffer in her satchel, and it showed a colour nearly clean. The princess had stopped in the shade of a broad, flat area, but Camps continued on.

“Even as a child, I knew better than to stop in a place such as that. Keep moving. We choose a narrow ledge or an area around a natural cut in the rock. Somewhere a scarabscorp can’t get you that is also easily defensible from reavers. Further along the rock narrows, there should be a place…”

They had found a place and had made a small fire. They were heating the water that they had collected in one of the princess’ gauntlets. They would wait in the cool shadows while the noon heat left the air, and their drinking water was resupplied. The stone cliffs rose out of sight above them and cast cool shadows. A slight breeze wound its way through the rocks and found them.

“How do you know the staff, the Wayfarers, need to go to this vault?” Camps asked from where she lounged in the shade. She was nibbling on a dry cake of food. She reached over and passed another one to the princess.

“You know that staff you drag around has many functions. Along with the magical shield, it can heal, provide clean water... then we wouldn’t have to be using one of my gauntlets as a cooking pot.” The princess stood watching through a gap in the rocks to the south, in the direction they had come.

“And if I could remember? There is that book of memories again you keep bringing up. I wish you could remember how that was lost. What is Ishi saying?”

The princess turned to them. “Childish things. She says that how the staff can do magic is a secret, so she won’t talk about the vault. She says agents don’t tell their secrets and only talk in secret messages to each other. So you are an agent? Are you? A little girl like you?” The princess joined them at the fire.

“That sign is ‘no,’” Camps said.

“That’s right. She says ‘no,’ she’s not an agent. But she will be one day. Her and her sister. She says she and her sister are pilots. Good pilots. They will become agents and pass the folded secret cloth.”

“The way you flew into us yesterday, I’m sure you are either damn good or simply crazy,” Camps replied.

More hand gestures.

The princess snorted and shook her head.

“What did she say?”

“More childish things.” The princess leaned back and turned away. Ishi stood, walked in front of the princess, and made the same series of gestures. She pointed to Camps.

“Seems like she wants you to tell me what she said.”

“She said you are right. The things you have been saying are right. The People take over the land like a sickness. They use spies, assassins, and bounty hunters to…” More signals. Ishi stood in front of the princess, angry. Her body language was full of fury. “Use bounty hunters to destroy a family from debts through edicts built on greed. Spies and assassins and hunters. She says to be an agent is to fight them. She said she and her sister have promised each other they will be agents when they are older and fight for the good and protect the children, all of the children, even if they have fur like their master.”

“Not if Daktor has his way.”

The three of them were startled at the newcomer. A soldier came around the corner of one of the tall, pillar-like rocks. He had a short stun staff out and charged. The three of them stood quickly. “Now hold on there. No one get any fancy Ideas. Princess, I’m glad we found you. The field marshall is right behind me.”

The princess was on her feet. “Scout! Excellent. How did we not see you? We have been scouring the horizon for the sign of anyone following.”

“Ah. This.” He held up a thick bracelet that flowed with silver and slickness, much like Ishi’s little bomb case. He touched it, and it seemed like he was suddenly covered with a rainfall of mirrors. He could still be seen as he sat on the boulder and laughed, but his clothing now reflected the colour of the sky, the shadowed stone walls around him, and the rock he sat on. Then the mirrors were gone.

“On the inside is words from the before times. ‘Chameleon Cam.’ The counsellor doesn’t know what those words mean, but he said it works. The field marshall sent me out as lead scout. I have been searching for your tracks since the storm. Nothing, not even the scarabscorp can sense me when this bracelet is activated.”

Ishi had been the only one to carry on with tending their small fire, as if ignoring the cavalry scout, to prod at the fire where she had been purifying the water and picked up the gauntlet with her bare hands.

“Ishi, no!” Camps said, but too late. The bare flesh of her hands hissed as it was seared against the heated metal, but the little girl didn’t let go of the gauntlet. Instead, she stepped towards the soldier and threw the gauntlet filled with boiling water at him.

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He screamed, clutching his face, and the gauntlet clattered to the stones.

“My eyes!” he yelled. “It’s in my eyes!”

The princess was to him and quickly pulled the soldier’s flask off his belt and splashed his face with water.

“Ahhh. Ahhh. Where is that little demon?” he said, squinting, and pushed the princess away. He staggered around the stones. His face and cheeks were seared red from the scalding water. He blinked around the clearing for her. There was no sign of Ishi.

The princess took him by the elbow. “Here, sit down. Wet this cloth and cool your face. Don’t wander far up here. You still can’t see and could fall.”

She sat him down on the narrow ledge. The majority of the area they had built their fire in amongst the stone monoliths was taken up by a deep crevasse.

“Ishi, come back!” she called. “The army is out there. You will be safer here with me than out there. I can’t protect you if you’re not here with me!” But the little girl did not show herself.

“Ishi!” she called again up into the rocks around her when Daktor stepped around the far side of the rock shelf. He wore his helm, full field plate, and had his sword drawn. In his hand, it looked like the size of a short sword. It was a thick blade, bulky, made of a three-sided rod with diamond-sharpened corners that came together in a sharply angled tip, a triangle with a suddenly sloped point. The princess had seen Daktor pry heavy vault doors apart with that sword that any number of soldiers couldn’t budge. She had also seen him, in one sweep of the sword, take out a mass of armed men like they were cut down by a scythe.

“Field Marshall! Very good! I’m so glad you found us! And your cavalry?”

He stared at the princess for a moment, then dipped his head. “The signals from the scout indicated you and two others, a girl and a woman.”

“Yes, Field Marshall.” The scout stood up beside the princess but had done it clumsily. He could still not see well. Blisters were starting to form around his eyes.

Daktor looked around the narrow clearing staggered with tall stone and draped with shadow.

“I do not see a third,” he said, his eyes settled on the scout.

“Everyone is here, Field Marshall. There was a child that has run off.”

“She is only frightened,” the princess said. “She is just a girl. Tell the men not to harm her. She threw the boiling water and is now hiding somewhere in the rocks.”

The field marshall swung his gaze slowly around the rock ledges above them.

The princess bent to their small fire and picked up the staff. “And I have the staff.”

Camps looked at her. Betrayal registered strongly on her face. The marshall stepped closer, his towering form looming above the princess and the soldier at her side. He looked down at them.

“The one that got away, does she have water with her? Clean water? Where is her pack?”

“Here.” The princess stepped to the fire and brandished the small pack.

“Good. She will not survive long without it.”

The princess looked at him quizzically. “There is no need to harm this child. She will come back with us. We have no need to persecute her.” She shook her head. “It is just a girl.”

“Ishi!” she called out to the rocks around them. “It is all right. They will not harm you. You can come out! I will talk to my father. I will ask him to pardon you. You were only frightened. It is ok!”

The field marshall took another step closer to the scout.

“You. You let the child escape,” he said to the scout.

“I… I…” the scout stammered, stepping back.

“Marshall Daktor.” The princess placed a hand on his arm. “You will let this pass.”

“Princess. You may pardon him. And I will punish him.” The scout was trying not to shake with fear as the princess stepped up beside him.

“I have healing ointment in my pack,” Camps said from where she stood. “He can see. Just not well. We will be able—”

He raised an angry hand to her. “Shut your mouth, or when my men arrive, I will have your tongue removed.”

“Daktor!” the princess said sternly. “She is also under my protection. These are my travelling companions. There will be no tongues removed today. My father is trying to gain the cooperation of the Wayfarers and you undermine these efforts with threats like these. My father and I have offered the Wayfarers the protection… Wait.” She turned her head quizzically as if she heard something whisper in her ear. “Tell me what has happened. Something has happened. And your attitude is… it is different. Changed.”

From the top of the field marshall’s left gauntlet, the one that was free of his sword, a long metal spike slid out and locked like a long accusing finger. It had the same type of multi-sided wedge diamond blade as his sword. He turned in one fluid motion and drove it into the scout’s chest. It was a death blow, and the man was crushed into the stone. All of them were shocked at the sudden violence, and he used the distraction to drive his sword into the princess.

It was also meant to be a death blow, but years in the fighting pits combined with her ability as a seer allowed her to avoid it, if only slightly. She only had one gauntlet on, and the staff clutched with it, but her sense and her honed fighting speed allowed her to shift the staff just enough to slightly deflect the blow. The strength of his swing was far beyond anything she had ever encountered. The base of the staff scoured a deep gouge in the stone, and she cried out as the sword bit deep into her midsection.

“No!” Camps yelled, but there was nothing she could do. She had taken a step forward but realized she had nothing to defend herself with.

“Ohhhhhhh…” The princess dropped to her knees. The crystal staff clattered to the stone. She clutched her bare hand to the wound on her side. Blood flowed rich and red through her fingers, down her thigh, and onto the stone around her. She looked up pleadingly to the field marshall. “Why?”

Ignoring her, he sheathed his sword and picked up the staff. He looked at it, studied it, holding it close. “I find it funny. After all these years, you finally get your hands on this thing, and you’re going to die.” He looked down at her. “This thing is a fool’s toy, but the counsellor wishes that I bring it to him, so I shall.”

“What are you doing? Something has happened to my father…” she said through teeth clenched in pain, still crouched on the stone holding her side.

He turned around, strode through the clearing, and kicked at Camp’s pack with his boot as she shied away from him.

“The counsellor has been drugging your father for years, and your father is dead now. We have named the Wayfarers traitors in his assassination. If we hadn’t just killed him using the wreck of that airship as a cover and blamed it on the Wayfinder, he would have gone completely mad soon enough from all the poison. Now, I will have to inform The People these Wayfarers have also killed their princess. You can be assured that the counsellor and myself will do our very best with The People and its Army in your stead.”

The princess’s face was pale. Her blood was flowing heavily through her hand, down to mix with the blood of the dead scout beside her.

“But… but… I don’t understand. How were you both able to plan this? All along you have been doing this?”

“Ah, no. We haven’t been so lucky. I wasn’t even sure about the poisoning of your father. Not until recently have the counsellor and I, let’s say, discovered our true intent. These late occurrences have all been just luck, really, situations that we have been able to manipulate. Like your death here at the hands of the Wayfinder. It will make our people truly angry. They are already angered that the death of your father was caused by the traitorous sabotage of his marvellous airship. It has been very disappointing for The People. It will be easy to eradicate the lovers of mutants and beasts now.”

His speech during his search of the small clearing and their things had brought him back to stand over the princess.

He held the staff, supported it against his shoulder and leaned towards her, his gauntlet spike extended on his left, still dripping the blood of the scout. He drew it down onto her chest. The princess didn’t flinch. She sat in her own blood and stared back up at him. He held the point pressed to her neck.

“You have the courage to tell me why before you kill me? Why didn’t you and the counsellor think to include me in your plans? If my father is truly gone, I am the current heir and commander of The People.”

He stood up and laughed. “You! You? You are a mutation! You make me sick. Every time I had to look at you. When you were a little girl. As you grew. Every time. A mutation, living in our tent lines, our buildings with us, travelling with us, only because of who your father was. If I had encountered you out on the sands as an infant, I would have slaughtered you and your family. You are a seer. You cursed your brothers. Do you have any idea how hard it was to create your brothers, those princelings? All that breeding from all those healthy women. Do you know how much work that took? How long we searched the valley and stole pure strain women for your father? All those marvelous boy soldiers, and you cursed them all to their deaths. I have wanted to kill you from the day I first saw you as a baby. I take on some of the responsibility for their deaths because I did not kill you. I always hated your father for stopping me. He has always been a compassionate fool. His care, this emotion of love for you, his last child, has cost him everything. No mutations should ever be allowed to live. You are proof of that.”

“I will show you. I will show you what I am capable of.” She spat. Bloody phlegm hit the stone.

“You have no time left to show me anything. All you will do is die now. Once The People are properly pure, we will control and cleanse the rest of the valley. We will fight for redemption over the scum that killed their ambassador and their princess.”

“You? A giant? If I am any mutation, then you are far more one than me.” Her mouth was red with blood, and her teeth stood out red-white with the slickness. “You and a bird brain? You’re going to lead the people? You know what? The only pure strain human of the entire command was my father, and you two mutated idiots killed him. I will hunt you both to the world’s end.” She spat more blood out of her mouth.

“Well, then. Here we are, at world’s end. Hunting is over,” he said and brought the tip of the blade back to her neck.

“No! No, don’t kill her. You can’t. I am a witness to this!” Camps stood, backed away, and shuffled around the deep cut in the rock.

“You, woman, you die next. There will be no witness. Everyone dies now.”

Camps and the princess had seen the black blur before. Before, the wings were much larger, but the black shape flew again just the same. It came down out of the rocks, struck the marshall in the helm, and plunged him backwards into the cavern. His armour scraped and clattered its way to the bottom. The staff he had let go, and now it spun and danced on its end like a child’s toy. The black form swooped an easy circle through the rock clearing and landed. Ishi stood, her long cloak settled to pool around her, and she snatched the staff out of the air before it clattered to the ground.

The princess and Camps stared at her. Without a pause, the girl strode over to the crevasse and with a sudden squall of metal, dropped the grenade.

“Wait!” Camps raised her arm.

The explosion was loud in the small area. A pulse of white winked from the pit and was gone. Immediately, Camps joined Ishi, and they peered down to see the sprawled form of Daktor deep in the shadows of the rocks. He groaned and rolled on his back, stunned or injured or both.

Ishi flicked back the top of the silver pouch at her side and pulled another bomb from it.

Camps stopped Ishi’s arm.

“How can this be? It appears again after you use it?”

Ishi nodded. She depressed a small divot in the sphere, and it started its warning chirp.

With a drag to her step, the princess was standing beside them, holding her side. Blood ran freely through her fingers. She grasped onto the grenade and Ishi’s hand that held it.

“No, you can’t murder him like this. He is trapped. To kill him will leave a mark on you. You can’t do this, Ishi.”

“She is right, Ishi. You cannot do this.”

“He needs to be taken back and tried for attempted murder, treason, and assassination. Or my murder if you can’t get that staff to heal me or at least stop this bleeding.”

Ishi flicked her a short run of signals.

“I know we may never get another opportunity like this. But you can’t kill him when he’s lying down there at your mercy. It will make you bad, Ishi.”

Ishi silenced the bomb by snapping it back into the case, and she flicked more signs.

“Yes, you’re right, and I was wrong. The wingsuit worked.” With a sigh, the princess dropped to the ground. “But enough chatting. Time to work that magic staff.”

“I don’t remember how.”

“Oh, that’s ok. We still have lots of time for you to remember—a good minute or two. And don’t start on me again about your damn book of memories.