6

Ferrak rubbed his hands along his forearms, not used to heaving them covered in civilian attire. Even when off duty, bloodmages were expected to keep their arms exposed, ready to spill blood for fuel at any moment. It let people know who he was, as well, usually caused them to bow and scrape. Not much. Only a little. Just enough.

The sweltering midday heat was unpleasant at best, and he constantly had to stop himself from rolling his sleeves up to the elbows as he searched through the capital streets for fugitive prisoners. Luckily, he had received a message earlier summoning him for a conference with the general.

Ferrak did finally roll his sleeves up as he tread up the stairs to the Celestial Palace’s arched entryway. Under normal circumstances, he would have stopped by the barracks to change into his uniform, but the barracks were uninhabitable, and were being prepared for renovations after last night’s attacks. If only he had been faster, he could have locked the escapee in place long enough to allow the soldiers to capture her again, but that strange woman was a force unlike any he had ever seen before.

He had never met a female bloodmage before, but he supposed such a thing wasn’t impossible. A question for later.

Even in civilian attire, soldiers and castle staff saluted him as he entered the main entryway, fists double-tapping their chests above their hearts before returning to their duties. Bloodmages were loved, respected, and feared by all within Serana. Maybe not in that exact order.

The blood within him sang, begging for release, to become waves of destruction or currents of life. He idly caressed the dagger at his right hip as he left the entry for an eastern hallway. The dagger was covered beneath a broad red sash of his civilian clothing—not an outfit for the daytime, but no one commented on him wearing evening attire during the day beyond a few stolen glances. With a grimace, he pulled his hand away from the dagger and massaged his knuckles before relaxing again. Too many foolish young bloodmages fell to power’s temptation, killing themselves by slashing their wrists too deeply.

Young fools, they were indeed. They would never know what to do with that much power.

Spending energy unnecessarily could leave him drained for days, even weeks if he exerted himself. Spilling one’s own blood was no leisurely activity, no matter the heavy feelings that came through the accompanying sense of power.

Ferrak rounded the corner at the end of the long hallway, turning right into another corridor, this one with a slightly lower ceiling. A lone rifleman double-tapped fist to chest in salute as Ferrak passed, and he was finally away from the common portion of the Celestial Palace.

An Edarian emerged from one of many doorways along the corridor, chatting quietly with a Seranian officer. The human’s uniform marked him as a second lieutenant, a fresh officer. The erman topped the human by several inches and wore the blackened armor of a Sentinel. Sentinels were the only non-officer unit among the Edarian military that would set foot on earthbound soil while on duty, except for the meager handful of soldiers stationed at their embassy. Edarian officers often came to meet with Seranian officials, but little else was known of their military structure.

Ferrak admitted to himself that he preferred it that way. A single battle would leave him weak and pallid for days, but that much exertion seemed laughable for any Edarian and their aether-wielding wings. Luckily for the humans, Edaria never interfered in their conflicts. Ferrak thought that maybe he could stand against an erman for a brief time, but in a longer battle? He’d be of little use after fainting from blood loss.

His mind returned to the previous night, the way that woman had escaped in such a fury. Had she been bleeding?

Was she a bloodmage?

The cryptic demand that the escapees be recaptured came from Blood-Emperor Theop himself. Yes, they had caused an enormous amount of destruction in their escape, but the reports said that they had been otherwise unremarkable during their incarceration. Why had they attracted the Blood-Emperor’s direct attention?

Perhaps they were wingless ermen, but Ferrak knew that those rarely left Edaria. Stories he’d heard said that they usually ended destitute, often as beggars, or worse.

A female bloodmage, a wingless erman, or some other mysterious being?

The second lieutenant and Sentinel passed Ferrak in the hallway. The officer tilted his head slightly to Ferrak, but the Sentinel only met his eyes briefly before looking ahead once more. Black wings shifted as the erman compacted himself to stay out of the way. As they resumed conversation, Ferrak overheard a scrap as the erman said that the city’s best wine came from a dilapidated tavern on Garenesh’s southern outskirts. The human officer laughed, saying that he preferred ale anyway and that the city’s best ale was at a tavern near the western gate, the Barley and Grain.

Ferrak shook his head as they passed from earshot. All the Seranian officers knew the best booze in the city was in Trade Plaza’s Bell and Gin. He looked over his shoulder and saw the pair leave the corridor, turning toward the Palace’s main entryway. One last ruffle of black wings, and they were gone.

How much more convenient his life would be if he could tap into inexhaustible aether! And Ferrak doubted he could stand to do something as mundane as walking if he had those wings.

He came to the door he sought, a plain wooden door bearing a simple bronze plaque reading HIBRANTH.

Taking a deep breath, he rapped his knuckles against the door. He had only spoken with General Hibranth twice before, and both occasions had been tense. He stood silently, awaiting a response and considered knocking again before the answer came.

“Enter.” A deep voice.

Ferrak did so, stepping inside to see Hibranth seated behind an oaken desk, thumbing through a sheaf of papers. His shoulders were wide, his black hair streaked with gray, and his arms free of a bloodmage’s scars. What was it like, rising through military ranks with only hand-to-hand expertise? So much easier to burn attackers where they stood with flames fueled by blood.

Hibranth looked up, and Ferrak pounded his fist against his chest twice, standing at attention. “Captain Ferrak reporting, sir!”

Hibranth sighed, tossing the papers on top of a much larger stack at the left edge of his desk. “At ease, captain. Take a seat.”

Ferrak raised an eyebrow at the invitation, but then sat in one of the three stout wooden chairs facing the general’s desk.

“Sorry,” Hibranth said, leaning forward and rubbing a hand over his eyes. “I’ve had enough formality for one day. The Blood-Emperor sent me a steady stream of bloodmages today, and I say it’s time we relax.”

“I see,” Ferrak said, with no intention to relax.

Hibranth eyed Ferrak, nodding as he noted the bloodmage’s rolled sleeves and the pattern of scars along both forearms. “Ferrak, you say. Captain Ferrak.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you were one of the bloodmages chosen for the mission today?”

“Yes,” Ferrak said. “Command sent me into the city to search for last night’s escapees shortly after noon today. They gave me short descriptions and told me to pay attention to the Portal.”

Hibranth nodded. “I’ll admit it must have been no easy task. Did you turn up anything?”

“I believe so. Two people were at least similar to the descriptions, and I almost thought I recognized the woman from last night, but it was difficult to say with the light of day. I notified three of my men to keep looking in the area when I was summoned here, but the two may have left by now.”

“You saw the woman last night, you say? You were at the barracks, then?”

“Yes, sir.”

Hibranth eased back in his chair, studying the bloodmage. “Suffice it to say that you are fortunate to still be with us, captain. She caused much damage, killed many of our men.”

“I am aware.” Ferrak flinched at his own words, sitting up straighter and hoping the general wouldn’t mistake his tone for sarcasm. “Good men, they were.”

“Were you able to confirm their descriptions? You really think two of them might have been at Trade Plaza?”

Ferrak shook his head. “They matched the general description, but it was hard to say more than that. I never got close enough to confirm eye color. Both were a little taller than average, as the description said. The woman wore a different style of clothes than the man she was with, but I did think it was odd to see sleeves at midday.”

“You were wearing sleeves at midday,” Hibranth said.

“I was, general, but I am wearing Seranian evening wear, still fairly common even in daytime. This man was wearing a coat or a heavy jacket.”

Hibranth leaned forward to scribble a note. “What else?” he said, looking up again.

“Both seemed in good health, but they were slimmer than most, which the description also mentioned. If the woman had not been dressed so much more nicely than the man, I might have thought they were beggars.”

“You were unable to question them?”

Ferrak grimaced. “No, general. The man seemed especially intense when I first noticed him, but the woman rushed him away when I came near the Portal.”

Hibranth scratched another note. “Were you able to follow them?”

“I tried,” Ferrak said. “They left to the west, but on a street with few enough people that following them would have drawn attention to me. They stayed in the open.”

Hibranth nodded again.

“I returned to Trade Square to search for the third prisoner. I told the squadron on patrol to move west and try to keep a lookout for where the pair was heading.”

“Did you tell them why?”

Ferrak’s orders had been specific—do not let anyone know why the military had an interest in the escapees and not to cause a scene if they were spotted. He didn’t understand the reasoning there, but orders were orders. Most importantly, his orders told him not to draw attention to himself.

“No, sir. I told them to follow but not to apprehend.”

“Well done, Captain.”

Ferrak closed his eyes and thanked whatever force looked out for him then. “Thank you, sir.”

Hibranth leaned back in his chair again, rubbing a hand over his stubbled chin. “Why do you think they ran off when you came to the Square? Do you think they noticed you?”

“Doubtful. I kept my head down as much as I could, and they left nearly as soon as I arrived. I assume they planned to leave earlier, even if they did leave in a rush. I doubt I would understand, but it’s possible they were ordinary people.”

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Hibranth leaned forward again and looked to his papers to jot something else down. Ferrak bowed his head, studying a particularly interesting crack in the stone floor.

“They are ermen.”

Ferrak’s breath caught, and he looked up. “Sir?”

“I thought you should know before continuing further,” Hibranth said. “They were detained for two weeks, and they were the ones that escaped from various military installations across the city last night.”

So they were wingless ermen, then. Ferrak nodded to himself.

“You hardly seem surprised,” the general added.

“I thought it was strange that a woman was Pulsing or using aether, even without wings. I’ve never met a female bloodmage before, so this actually makes more sense to me. But, may I ask, why are wingless ermen important enough for this mission to be handled so covertly? Is it because we held Edarians in Seranian custody?” Edarians who violated Seranian law—or that of any other earthbound nation—were suspect to those nations’ codes, but sentencing always had to be carried out in Edaria. The official erman response was that human prisons were incapable of containing erman convicts, and Ferrak was inclined to agree. Perhaps those three had done something so heinous that Serana had instead removed their wings in secret and then left them to die. That only raised the question of how they had managed their escapes—without coordination—without their wings.

“If only it were so simple,” Hibranth said, pushing his notes to the side. “There’s much more to it, but nothing else I can comment on. If I’m to be honest with you, I wish I didn’t know more myself, but I can say that Serana stands at the helm of the future.”

Ferrak didn’t like that response. He felt like he had done more than spot two ermen in Trade Square.

“Have no fear, captain. Blood-Emperor Theop will see us through these times if we do the best we can and heed his wisdom. I assure you of that.”

Ferrak wished the general’s response didn’t sound as scripted as it had. It sounded like he had given the same words to dozens of bloodmages over the course of the day.

Ferrak nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

Hibranth eased forward in his chair before standing and moving to the front of his desk, leaning against it as he loomed over Ferrak. “I’ll give you some more information. The two you saw were Caru Freehaven and Kimke Bellrose. Freehaven is the man, a sculptor. Bellrose is a healer, but she has never worked with the Edarian military.”

“And the third one?”

Hibranth cut his eyes to one side before looking to Ferrak again. “He’ll be the toughest one. His name is Martel Moonshroud, and he’s the shorter, stouter one you’ve seen in the descriptions. He’s a Sentinel. Even without apparent access to aether, he’s extremely dangerous.”

“Did anyone see him today?”

“Yes.” Hibranth straightened and folded his arms behind his back. “He was spotted near the Edarian embassy, but he kept his distance from the local patrol. A plainclothes bloodmage tailed him for some time before he passed pursuit to another bloodmage so he could report the sighting to me. As far as we know, Martel is still under surveillance.”

Ferrak clenched and quickly released his fists, wishing he could have caught his two ermen. “Sir, I am sorry I lost my trail.”

Hibranth gestured broadly and flashed his best smile. “We already know where they’re going. We just need to make sure they are going to find the right way out of the city.”

“The right way?” Ferrak asked.

“Of course.” Hibranth leaned forward and placed a hand on Ferrak’s shoulder. Ferrak felt a rush of pride at the familiar gesture. “Captain Ferrak, are you fond of trains?”

—

The sun swept low toward the western horizon, leaving the surface of Cirellias only halfway lit. Eastern stars sparkled warmly as night prepared to drape the land. It would not be long before Caru and Kimke found themselves stranded outdoors for yet another night, another long, cold night spent on a stone roof with a stinky coat for a blanket. Perhaps he should have asked Mieta for a blanket–or any kind of help–earlier, but he didn’t want to press his chances. The scars above Caru’s back still ached from last night’s rest.

As they crossed Garenesh, they gave the Celestial Palace a wide berth to the north. It already swarmed with military personnel on alert for an attack against the Blood Emperor that would never come; that threat had died with Rythellas’s setting. The pair agreed it would be best to avoid anyone in military dress, since they would most likely have descriptions of the fugitive ermen.

But did the common foot soldiers know the escapees had once been ermen, or did the higher-ups tell them they were human? Many of the soldiers likely had erman spouses.

Caru hoped that Kimke’s boast of perceptiveness would be enough to spot soldiers not in uniform. The more he considered it, the more he thought her right about the long-sleeved man in Trade Square being a bloodmage. The Seranian military would scour all of Garenesh in search of the Edarians who knew their dark secret, and Trade Plaza would be no exception.

“What should we do?” Kimke finally asked, muttering the words softly as they wove their way through a crowded street. Humans and ermen alike were out in force beneath the setting sun, the Seranians having already shed the breezy attire of the daytime for the long-sleeved, high-collared evening wear. The men favored dark velvet suits, and creamy lace was in vogue among the women. Neither fashion was one that anyone wanted rubbing up against a grimy coat, so many people shied away from Caru and Kimke as they passed through. The bubble that followed them through the crowd left them more conspicuous than Caru would have liked.

“I talked with a human woman this morning,” Caru said.

“What?”

He sighed. “A woman named Mieta. She said she could try to get me out of the city, but she had to let her parents know she was alive and well first. I’m supposed to meet her at the train station around noon tomorrow. I probably could have traveled with her today, but I told her I wanted to look for you and possibly this other person first.”

Kimke winced. “What makes you trust her?”

“She was working at the inn where I was captured. The Bard’s Path.”

“That’s…not really something that works in her favor, you know?”

Caru laughed, despite himself. “You’re right. But she was at the armory when I escaped. She was in the kitchen, apparently scrubbing pots. If she was in on my capture, they didn’t reward her well for it.”

“Could she have been in on it?”

“I don’t think so. I can’t say I know her well, but we were on friendly terms. Although, I guess I could say the same about the innkeeper. No, I think she saw what happened and got taken in for it. She implied she hadn’t been able to communicate with her parents since our capture, so I don’t think she was allowed to leave until my distraction.”

“You think we should trust her? You said yourself that you barely know her.”

“I think we should hear her out. She could have turned me in this morning, but she didn’t. We’ll get to the station early tomorrow, find her, and watch her for a while. If it’s obvious she’s not in contact with the government, we’ll approach her and talk. Regardless, we have to find a way out of the city, but we can try that first. We’ll have the early morning to look for the other erman if you want. We’ll keep our distance, but you’d probably see something I’d miss.”

A lone erman flew overhead, huge wings flapping and stretching as they glided smoothly above the rooftops. It seemed a few had come here this morning, heard of the Trade Portal’s closing, and decided to stay in Garenesh rather than be stuck in Detrina on the other side. This one flew with a sphere of light on either side of their head, casting light on the ground below. A simple trick. Caru clenched his fists briefly but forced them to relax.

Caru said, looking back to the street ahead. “Makes me wonder if I hate them or the humans more.”

“I don’t hate my own people, that’s for sure.”

Caru chuckled, and it felt good. “You’re right. Call it jealousy then, not hatred.” He turned to Kimke and noticed her sour expression. “What’s wrong?”

“Do you really hate the humans?” she asked. She turned her head, locking her eyes to his.

Humor fled from him in a rush. “You know what they did to us. Can you forgive them?”

Kimke’s voice remained low, almost a whisper. “The ones that did this to us? No, I won’t forgive them. Even though I’m shifted Restoration, I want to find a way to kill them all.”

“I agree,” Caru said. “My only regret is that I can’t remember more of what I did last night.”

Kimke shuddered at the memory. “I remember pieces. They may have deserved it, but giving into bloodlust like that was unnerving.”

“It felt good to touch aether again.” He looked up to see if anyone had heard. It was a dangerous conversation to have in public, but no one seemed to have noticed. His coat pushed them out of listening range, apparently.

“It did. Still, I don’t hate them all. Not every human was involved in what happened to us.”

“We still don’t know why they took our wings,” Caru muttered. Other people along the street were too involved in their own conversation to notice them beyond the smell. No one cared. Ermen gathered among them, not knowing that they could be capable of such atrocities. Caru wanted to grab them, shake them, tell them to flee back to Edaria before the humans ruined them, tortured them, left them for dead as they rotted away in isolated cells.

“You’re right,” Kimke said. “They never told you anything during the interrogations?”

Those damn interrogations. Bloodmages healed him after each one, but Caru’s body still ached with the memories, the constant breaking and mending. Odd that human bloodmages could be equally proficient—and powerful—in both healing and destruction. They had made Caru painfully aware of that as they had broken and healed his bones in an effort to extract Edaria’s forbidden secrets. He had told them morsels of common knowledge but had kept secret the taboo topics. Humans may have accidentally discovered something about the Void moon, but they clearly had been taken aback by the other side.

Small compensation.

“No, they never gave a reason why. If I asked, they only beat me harder.”

Any of the ermen walking the westbound street knew all of those forbidden secrets, maybe even more than Caru himself knew. Yet here they were, talking with humans, laughing, singing, drinking, dancing. Panic welled within Caru, but he suppressed it. Not every human wanted to know those secrets, but those that did could be monstrous and determined.

“You think ermen are any better?” Kimke asked as they passed into another intersection.

Caru looked across the intersection to a large and popular tavern. Music spilled through the open doors, and people inside sang and danced in time with the rhythm. Two humans and an erman sat together on a bench in front of the tavern, all three at least somewhat drunk, tapping their feet in time with the music as they laughed and clapped each other on the back while making a drunken display of singing along. Caru shook his head—only two weeks early, and he would have been the same as them. He wanted to think he had human friends in the world below, but he doubted he could trust them any longer. His capture seemed orchestrated enough that someone must have known his patterns. Humans had caused his pain and suffering, and it would be best to avoid them in the future.

Would the humans be so willing to share their bench with an erman if they knew the secret of the Soulless moon? Each month, the Calming spared the world for a few more weeks. Knowledge of the Soulless night could even spark war between ermen and humans. The Seranian military must have learned something from last night’s escapes. Maybe not, but Caru wondered if his destructive flight might not have given them some sliver of information regardless what the Soulless night truly was. Even without wings, he’d escaped his prison, tearing through guards as though they were paper dolls. How much of the city would still be standing if he, Kimke, and the other one still had their wings? Dilated filaments in the wings would draw much more aether ripples from the moon than those that remained in his body, so much more that it addled ermen minds into forces of destruction. Last night’s surge was hardly a mark on what any other erman could have done in those circumstances.

“We’re no better, only blinder.”

They pushed past the tavern, leaving music and laughter behind. Caru did have to admit that a stop for several drinks would have been nice. Having money to buy drinks would have been nicer. Kimke might be able to smile and wink her way to some booze, but Caru doubted his own charm would be so fruitful.

“Wait,” Kimke said.

Caru blinked, returning from his thoughts. He spun to ask her what was wrong, but she was already approaching a group of people that stood gathered in front of another, smaller tavern. Holding his breath, Caru moved after her, keeping a watchful eye as she spoke to the group.

“Sorry,” Kimke said, “but did one of you say something about the trains?”

A short woman in a low cut dress trimmed with lace nodded. “Yes,” she said. “Theop posted a notice today saying that train travel would resume in the morning in order to maintain trade. The gates and Portal will still be closed.” Someone else in the group voiced their frustration, saying that they only wanted to go to the outer city, but that it would be easier to go all the way to Curali now.

Kimke thanked the group, gave a small bow, and walked toward Caru again. The rest of the conversation faded into the drone of the city as Kimke and Caru walked away, still heading westward. “So the train station will be running tomorrow,” she said.

Caru nodded. “It sounds like a good enough option, especially if Mieta will be there and able to get us tickets. I’m worried at the timing, though. Do you trust it?”

“Not especially. It feels like a trap, but so is staying in the city.”

As though summoned, a train wailed in the distance as it pulled into the station some distance to the south. “I still don’t like it, but trusting her is going to be our only choice. Leave in the morning?”

“Yes,” Kimke said. “Let’s find a place to sleep, and we’ll spend the morning looking for the other erman before heading to the station. We’ll leave as close to daybreak as we can.”

Caru’s back already ached at the idea.