“Advice is only as valuable as how much you are prepared to charge for it.”

— Dread Emperor Inimical, the Miser

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Days passed as I travelled towards the Blessed Isles. The drab landscape wore away at my patience. Just deadened fields stretching as far as the eye could see. No guards patrolled the Imperial Highway. Each step of the journey towards the inn marked on the map dragged on like the time between meals.

The few people that did travel the paved road gave me the side eye for some reason that I hadn’t been able to figure out. Fortunately, that was the extent of my troubles. Travellers still journeyed up and down the length of the Imperial Highway, despite the ongoing rebellion against Praes. There were few merchants, and those that I did see were much better guarded than I remember them being when they came into Laure only two years past.

The pace picked up after arriving at the Inn. The proprietor had taken one look at me and pulled me out back. It surprised me when she’d handed me some supplies as well as shown me around to a midnight black pony. I’d called it what it was without any better idea of what to call it. Pony and I had continued on our way after a good rest.

The Fields of Streges were unexpectedly calm for a region consumed by strife. I only saw two roadside robberies and a single burning farmhouse while I was on the road. I was expecting more open conflict, but it seemed more like bandits taking advantage of the situation than outright warfare between the rebellion and the Legions.

The shape of broken, blackened rising turrets was my first warning that I was approaching the Blessed Isles. If I squinted, I could almost imagine the spectral outline of the once mighty fortress shadowed against the horizon. Then came the green flames and the shadow winked out.

The Miezan bridge would come next. It crossed over to the barren rock in the middle of the Wasaliti river. I passed another merchant. They took one look at me and pulled their convoy as far across on the opposite side of the road as they could. Assholes. I’d cross over and give them a taste of my thoughts if I didn’t have other things on my mind.

A tall palisade fence had been constructed around the foot of the bridge, with watchtowers behind it. They were manned by men in black armour. The Legions of Terror. I was surprised that the rebellion hadn’t tried to push them off the Blessed Isle. Perhaps the cost of making it defensible again wasn’t worth it. I’d nag the Reluctant Strategist about the choice to leave it alone after I’d returned.

I dug my knees into the horse’s side and slowed.

How was I going to get past the checkpoint? Should I try to swim the river, or crawl beneath the underside? Perhaps if I timed it right, then I could kill them without being caught.

A whisper of Abigail’s muttered commentary brought that line of thought to an end.

No, those were both bad ideas. The Legion soldiers didn’t appear to be stopping any other travellers. I didn’t have anything on me that should interest them. I should be able to pass right by. The difficulty would come once I’d found the envoys. My fingers tightened around the hilt of my dagger and I scowled. Assuming the envoys were even still alive.

A cool autumn breeze blew through my hair and the rushing of water beckoned in the distance as my mount sped up. The late afternoon sun was dipping below the horizon. I came to a stop outside the open palisade gate. One of the Legion soldiers was manning the checkpoint.

He squinted at me for a few moments, before shaking his head and turning away.

“Reason for passing?” the man barked out.

“It’s calmer on that side,” I replied.

He snorted.

“Kid, you’re not my business.”

His stance was loose, but his hand never strayed far from his sword.

“So I can pass?”

“You can pass.” His armour grated as he shook his head. “My advice? Whatever you're thinking, drop it. It'll end in blood.”

“Anything I should watch out for?”

“There is a pair of diabolists holed up inside the cathedral.”

“Why is that my problem?” I folded my arms.

“If you don’t want trouble, stay out of their way.” He turned to the side and spat. “Shouldn’t be too hard to avoid. It’s where we’re camped.”

I bit down on my smile. The envoys were still here, and I knew where they were. There would be some difficulty in spiriting them away from the Legions, but… no, I was thinking about this the wrong way. I had other concerns first.

“Will I need to worry about devils while I’m here?”

I wasn’t prepared to rescue anyone that was summoning up devils. I’d rather stab them first.

“If you’re worried about devils, then you should be staying on that side of the bridge.” The Legion soldier pointed behind me, “now get moving, you’re holding up everyone else.”

He moved aside.

Pony cantered onto the bridge. Legion soldiers marched up and down the Miezan relic and lit torches, spacing them each about fifteen feet apart from each other. I could hear the wind howling through the jagged, rotting teeth that had become the long abandoned walls of the fortress. The malevolent smile of that great, stony beast appeared as if it was about to swallow me whole. It wasn’t long until I passed through the twisted remains of the melted gatehouse and arrived at the Blessed Isles.

The place was more vibrant than I expected for a blackened ruin. A merchant troupe was setting up rugged tents around a crackling camp fire in the shadow of one of the broken turrets on my left. The top half had collapsed inwards and was lying against the courtyard floor. The smoky outline of shadowy figures were seared onto the shattered walls. I shivered. I could almost hear their dying screams as they were swallowed by the flames.

Further along on the same side were the smoky remains of what I’d guess was a stable. The next building along was a heavy pile of slag. It was melted down so thoroughly that I couldn’t identify what it was supposed to be.

Opposite the merchant troupe was a Legion platoon. I guessed there were around somewhere between thirty and sixty soldiers, all encamped within the ruins of the cathedral. The skeleton of the building was in surprisingly good shape, despite the missing rooftop. Well, the missing anything that I presumed had been made out of any material but stone. That only raised more questions. Where were the envoys? The guard on the bridge had mentioned them being in the cathedral somewhere…

My stomach rumbled.

There wasn’t an inn nearby — or any other place to stay — which shouldn’t have come as a surprise. I’d had enough of going hungry to not want to do so again. If I wanted to eat tonight, then I’d need to bargain with the merchants.

My lips pressed in a line as I approached the merchant caravan.

“Evening,” I called out.

A dark skinned, pot-bellied man dressed in brown overalls looked up from the fire and narrowed his eyes at me.

“You’re looking for something, lass?” the man folded his arms.

“How much for a meal?”

The merchant examined me further, then listed a price. It was expensive. I handed over some coins and waited beside the fire for the meal.

“You’re young to be travelling on your own,” his wife sat on the bit of wall beside me.

I shovelled another spoon of whatever the spicy dish was into my mouth and said nothing in reply. My mouth was awash with flavour between the beef, rice, spices, and other unknown ingredients.

“That beast looks a bit too rich for you,” she brushed the creases out of her yellow dress while she talked.

The spoon scraped the bottom of the bowl. I put it to one side.

“What’s it to you?” I tapped the edge of my blade as I met her green eyes.

“I’m curious-”

“You want to know if I stole the horse,” I drew my dagger, then started to trim my nails.

Her lips pressed into a line.

“Go complain to the Legions if it’s a problem.”

“They said they’re waiting for a sorcerer to relieve them, not to stop little girls who run away from home and steal an arrogant lord’s horse,” she let out a loud harrumph.

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Was that a clue? I didn’t know enough about what was happening to understand why a platoon weren’t able to kill two Praesi wizards. Wouldn’t the wizards have escaped already if they were that dangerous?

“And you’re here to sell goods and make money,” I grumbled.

She didn’t catch my suggestion.

“Just because they’re here to prevent rebels from causing problems doesn’t mean they should ignore petty thieves.”

The blade slipped and nicked my fingers.

“What a pity,” I lifted the finger to my lips, licked the cut and smiled at her.

She shuddered, then backed away.

I returned the bowl, then backed away from their camp and searched for a spot of my own. I settled on the broken remains of a turret on the opposite side of the ruins. Now it was time to wait.

Time passed. The moon rose, then clouds swallowed it whole. An eerie stillness fell over the ruins on the Blessed isle. The entire fortress was shrouded in an inky blackness, save for a glow from the cathedral, the dying fire by the merchant troupe and the torches on the bridges to either side.

The sound of footsteps on the bridge trailing away for what must have been the hundredth time was my call to act.

It was time.

I slung my bag over my shoulder and started to scale the inside of the turret’s skeletal remains. No wood was left upon its carcass, only the blackened outline of hard, cold stone. I crawled through a crumbled passage as I wormed my way further up the stairwell, then stood and jumped across a narrow gap to the stairs above. Soon, I reached a dead end. The passage extended no further upwards.

I halted.

No, I wasn’t prepared to let this stop me. I dug my fingers into the cracks in the wall. The darkness wrapped itself around me like an icy blanket the higher that I scaled. A fine layer of dew had settled over the ruins. I cursed inwardly.

The distant clanking drew nearer.

My fingers were slick with sweat. They trembled, then slipped. I scrambled against the inside of the turret for a few moments while I reclaimed my hold.

A scattering of rocks fell below.

I stilled.

There was no change to the sound of the guards moving below.

My breath came in spurts as I continued to climb.

Don’t look down, Cat. Just because it’s dark, doesn’t mean it stretches on forever.

At last, I stopped and peered down on the corpse of the fortress from the remnants of a floor further up.

Heartbeats passed while I observed the Legion watch rotation.

Two soldiers patrolled the bridge leading across into the Green Stretch. I guessed that another two patrolled the bridge leading back onto the Field of Streges, but I couldn’t see them from where I was. I didn’t know how many manned the watchtowers on either side. It was too hard for me to make them out from where I was. Four more Legion soldiers patrolled around the outside of the cathedral. Each of them always kept another in their sight.

There was a broken gap in the closest side of the cathedral wall that I could glimpse through from where I sat. I could just make out the shapes of three men clustered around a cook pot. I couldn’t see anyone else.

It left me with a conundrum.

How was I going to do this?

There was no getting the wizards away from the Legions without killing them. Was I prepared to kill this many people? My stomach churned. I’d killed a man before, but it had been in the heat of the moment. Now I was planning to do the same, only this time it would be in cold blood. The thought twisted in my gut. No, there was no other way. I’d do it. I’d committed to this. There was no backing out now.

Which brought me back to my question.

How was I going to do this?

Trying to attack them all at once would only lead me to die. As much as I wished I was a hero, I wasn’t one just yet. Should I risk it anyhow? That was the kind of thing that a hero would do. No, it wasn’t sensible.

Maybe I could use the merchants as a distraction? Cause some noise there and draw the Legion’s attention away from the cathedral. On second thought, no. A distraction wasn’t on the plate. The Legions were all trained. They were more skilled than regular guards. It would only make them more alert and lower my chances of success. That meant I needed to sneak in without any hint as to my presence at all.

I grabbed at my dagger once more.

I wasn’t good at being sneaky.

What options did I have?

My biggest problem was that I didn’t know enough. The only way to learn more would be by asking, or by sneaking closer. I examined the cathedral. The gap that I was peering through in the cathedral wall stuck out like a tooth. That gave me a horrible idea.

I reached into my bag and pulled out a rope, tied the one end into a noose, then gave it an experimental tug. The noose remained firm.

One.

Two.

Three.

The noose twirled through the air, only to fall short.

My heart leapt as if trying to flee from my chest like a thief chased by the guards. I tugged the rope back while it was still in the air, then glanced down to the ground. Nobody looked up. My shoulders slumped. A section further along the walls was closer to the cathedral than my turret was, but it was also more exposed. I glanced at the Legions on patrol. Their eyes remained alert and panned from one side of the Blessed Isle to the other. Could I cross the distance without being seen?

I’d have to find out.

I descended the turret. Rubble blocked most of the passage to the walls, but with a tight squeeze I was able to fit through. I skulked behind what little remained of the parapet, doing my best to remain out of sight. It wasn’t long before I came to the end of one shattered segment. A broken chasm yawned between me and my next landing.

I spared a glance to all the Legions on patrol. None of them were looking my way. I backed up a few paces, sprinted forward, then jumped. My feet landed on the opposing side, only for the mortar to crumble under my step. I scrambled forward. A rain of loose rubble fell onto the ground below.

The dull thud of boots grew louder.

“What was that?” the words were spoken in heavily accented Taghrebi.

I pulled myself further into the shelter of the shattered wall top, then buried my face in the grey of my shirt and sucked in my breath. Heartbeats passed. I listened to the scrape of steel on stone as the Legion soldier came closer. The shadows almost seemed to swirl around me, enfolding me in their embrace.

“This place is still falling apart.”

The man swore.

The sound of boots faded away.

I climbed the shattered remnants of the wall and found a better perch, then examined my target. Would the guards look up? Probably not. I whirled the rope once again. It caught. One quick tug later and I was satisfied. It would hold. I tied the other end to a part of the wall, then took a deep breath.

This won’t go wrong. This won’t go wrong. This won’t go wrong.

Reach forward, tug, release, reach forward, tug, release.

Ignore the long fall under me. Just look to the sky. The clouds are nice. The dark below can’t hurt me, it won’t hurt me.

Reach forward, tug, release, reach forward, tug, release.

The rope swung from side to side as I crossed the distance. I did my best to ignore the burning in my arms, the swaying of my hair, the shallow pants, the shakes in my legs, or the pull from the ground below.

Reach forward, tug, release, reach forward, tug, release

“How much longer do you think we’ve got to wait until we’ll be sent reinforcements?”

I almost let go of the rope in fright as the voice called out.

I reached around awkwardly and seized the stone finger on the other side with one arm before painting myself onto it. Once I was satisfied that I’d secured myself with one hand, I grabbed it with the other. There was a short mad scramble as I leveraged my weight onto the wall. The edge of the wall felt flimsy beneath my feet, but it was safer than remaining on the rope.

“Another day, maybe two.”

The wind picked up. Smoke from the fire below blew itself into my face.

“We should’ve just dug them out of that basement days ago.”

My eyes watered. The smoke was making it hard to breathe.

“You know what they say, Kifo?”

There was a Legion tent a few feet across and however many feet down the floor was. It was on the opposite side of the soldiers. I just needed to skirt my way over there, then I’d no longer need to worry about the acrid air blowing my way from the wind.

“About what, Zulmat?”

I released the exposed rock I was holding onto, hugged the wall below me, and clawed my way forward like a beetle towards the opposite side.

“Diabolists that are backed into a corner.”

The sound of the Legion soldier patrolling below my perch to the right slowed, then stopped. I risked a glance over the edge. He had his hand to his brow and his eyes stretched towards the rope.

“Can’t say that I do,” one of the three on the left coughed.

There wasn’t any time to think. I palmed a piece of rubble, squinted at the dying embers of the merchant’s fire, and hurled.

Crack!

The stone struck against one of the logs and sent it tumbling against their tents. I held my breath and waited. The Legion soldier’s attention snapped towards the merchants. A few moments later and the material caught alight. Then came the cries of alarm. I watched as the soldier on patrol ran towards the disturbance. The three men by the fire paused for a few heartbeats, only to turn back to their conversation.

There wasn’t time to be clever about this. I scrambled towards the rope.

“Don’t attack them, because that’s when the demons come ou-”

I felt the wall lurch beneath me. The section I was walking on crumbled.

Three pairs of eyes pierced me as I fell.

I yelped, tucked myself into a ball and rolled.

A moment later and my pack slammed into the roof of a tent, followed by me only a heartbeat later. The tent buckled, but cushioned my fall.

Stomp, stomp, stomp.

I saw a boot out of the corner of my eye.

A soft ringing sound echoed out.

I saw the glimmer of metal in the torchlight.

Dazed, I struggle to raise my head.

I blink, then find myself face to face with the gleaming edge of a blade.