“We need to get back into the skies,” Geralt huffed as he climbed his way onto the deck. “The ship gets stuffy when its grounded for this long.”

“I thought you can’t fly in the winter,” Sylvie said.

“Not properly. Doesn’t keep a man from wishing though.” Geralt gazed up at the treeline wistfully. “Next year we should dock in Caprum for the winter. I haven’t seen the sea in ages.”

“Elijah will probably want us in Jorgisvault, less--”

“Less competition. Only because no one wants to stay in Jorgisvualt.” Geralt hopped off the deck. “Speaking of competition, let’s get back to Skystead before there’s too many of us trying to head back.”

“You want to go to Skystead now?” Sylvie asked incredulously.

“I’ve been cooped up on that ship for what, a week? I need some action.”

“You were asleep for that!”

Geralt shrugged. “All the more reason to get some exercise.” He turned to Nestor. “Come on, just a little bit of window shopping. There might even be some fledgling pickpockets we can make fun of.”

“I don’t know, Sylvie and I stole something pretty high profile the other day. They’ll be on the lookout for our masks.”

Geralt glared at both of them. “You two went on a heist without me? Come on, you can’t have stolen something that important.”

“We took a catalyst,” Sylvie said.

Geralt froze and his glare, which had been mostly in jest moments before, became much more fixed. “That was reckless,” he said, looking directly at Nestor. “Especially for a first time heist.”

“I’m right here,” Sylvie protested. “And we had to get that catalyst to heal you. You should be thanking us.”

Geralt glanced at her and then to Nestor who nodded.

“I was that bad off? That lady! If I see her again, I’ll--”

“Hide,” Nestor said firmly.

Geralt just sighed and motioned for them to follow them through the woods. The hippogriff snorted softly and he paused to glare at it. “Weird creature,” he muttered under his breath.

Nestor followed along when he realized the direction Geralt was headed. “They know your face by this point too,” he said pointedly. “We can’t get close without being spotted.”

“The alchemists know my face, and probably think I’m dead,” Geralt shot back. “Besides, I have this.” He pulled a beaten looking mask from inside the folds of his jacket.

“That’s a risk, and Sylvie and I will still be recognized.”

“Maybe.” Geralt kept walking determinedly. “But if you’re any good, you didn’t let them know that you stole it.”

Nestor stopped. He had pickpocketed the catalyst, but it had been one they were planning on throwing out. What were the chances that the healers had realized they had taken it? He shook the idea off almost immediately. A catalyst wasn’t the sort of thing someone misplaced. Of course they’d notice.

“Why do you want to go so badly?” Sylvie asked. She was the only one of them to have grabbed her traveling cloak before heading outside and was drawing it further around herself.

“I just need to stretch my legs, make sure I haven’t lost my edge,” Geralt said vaguely. He turned toward them. “Nestor, you were hiding all morning and I saw you hugging the walls, Sylvie. Don’t tell me you really want to go back to the ship right now.”

They both hesitated and Geralt seized his chance. “We’ll be back before sunset. No one will even miss us.”

“They’re throwing this party for you,” Nestor said as he reached up to push a long hanging branch out of his face.

“They’re here for cheap food and beer,” Geralt waved his hand dismissively. “We can bring more back and they’ll thank us all the more for it.” They were nearing the edge of the treeline and beyond it the sparce fields that surrounded Skystead. Without the tree cover, the sun actually felt warm across Nestor’s face. Without the farmers tending the fields, there weren’t as many people wandering around as he was used to, but several still walked down the paths around the city gates, many with fishing gear.

As they neared the giant pine tree that they had been using to sneak over the wall, Geralt slotted his mask on. “Did you two bring yours?” he asked as he grabbed one of the lower branches.

“Don’t you think you should have checked earlier?” Nestor asked dryly. He glanced up at the guard station posted on the wall. As usual, no one was there. He reached into his jacket pocket and his hand closed around empty air.

“I did,” Geralt said smugly as he handed him a mask in the shape of a copper fox. Sylvie’s leopard came out next.

Nestor snatched it away and slipped it on. “Quit showing off.”

Geralt shot a look over his shoulder that was not helped by his grinning cat mask.

They landed lightly in the street, not the usual roof, at Sylvie’s insistence.

“Now this is more like it,” Geralt said happily as they headed for the commercial district. “People, energy, plenty of heavy pockets that need lightening.” He elbowed Nestor lightly. They were just above the central market, but unlike the last time Nestor had been, it wasn’t overflowing with merchants. There were a couple of sea merchants, and one or two produce vendors, but several empty stalls stood seemingly abandoned. It was late in the season, most of the produce vendors had probably given up on selling directly.

“No, I want it!” a high pitched voice squealed. A boy that couldn’t have been more than seven tugged on a toy train that was being held aloft by another boy.

“It’s my turn!” the boy protested. He stepped back, throwing the smaller boy off balance and nearly sending him toppling to the ground. One of the market vendors rose from her stall to chide the two boys and Geralt shook his head.

“There’s a reason we don’t take kids in,” he said, nearly under his breath.

“I was about their age when I joined, and you were barely a few years older.”

“Old enough to not be a brat,” Geralt said dismissively. He started off in the opposite direction, motioning for Sylvie and Nestor to follow him.

“Where are we going?” Sylvie asked after Geralt had led them up several flights of stairs. He had moved to visit a different automaton shop, but Sylvie had refused, citing their inferior quality. It had been one of the only shops packed with people they had walked past, something Sylvie claimed was expected in her absence.

“Around,” Geralt said distractedly. “What do you think they’re out of back on the ship? I bet the crew would like some candy. There’s a pretty good chocolate shop a couple of levels up.”

“They don’t need candy,” Nestor said quickly.

“There’s a taffy shop closer to here,” Sylvie suggested. Geralt looked almost…disappointed and her eyes narrowed. “What are you looking for?”

“Keep it down, would you, Sylv?” Geralt said after a quick glance over his shoulder.

“Tell me what we’re doing here then.” she folded her arms.

Nestor glanced around them. They were just above the middle point of the city, not far from where he and Sylvie had been caught. He froze. “You’re trying to spy on the alchemists,” he realized.

“Keep it down!” Geralt hissed. “And no I’m not.”

“Where’s their guildhall?” Sylvie asked. “It can’t be far from here.”

“It’s two levels up, but that’s not…” he trailed off and sighed. “Fine. I think keeping tabs on those alchemists would be a very good idea. I stabbed that woman clean through the chest and she walked it off.”

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“Yeah, because she stole your energy to heal herself. You want to confront that right now?” Sylvie demanded. She glanced around them as soon as she had said it, but they were the only ones standing on their skyway. In fact, there weren’t many people wandering the skyways at all, maybe a couple more than had been in the market, but far fewer than Nestor was used to for this time in the afternoon.

“I never said I wanted to fight them, I just want to see if they’re still around.”

“Of course they’re still here!”

“Then we take a peek, see what they’re up to, and get out of here.” Geralt’s hand rose to the side of his neck--the same side that had been coated in red crystals not even a day prior. “These are the people that killed the Captain. They took you two and they nearly killed me. I thought we were planning on getting revenge.” He hesitated and turned back to Sylvie. “Well, we were, but I guess you weren’t--”

He cut off as she continued to glare at him. “I am not going back to the shop,” she muttered under her breath. “Fine. What exactly are you hoping to accomplish?”

“We need to figure out what they’re schedule is. Once we understand that we can work out a better plan.”

“If they spot us, we’re done,” Nestor reminded them. “They know all three of our faces.”

“But not our masks. You wandered the city for a month and never had anything happen. We can just keep doing that. Besides, it’s the middle of the day. They can’t attack outright like they did underground.”

Nestor swallowed back the retort that Alaric apparently hadn’t wanted to kill him at all. That probably wouldn’t work a second time. That was another thing he had been pushing from the far corners of his mind. Too many people knew about Alaric’s plan, from the little Nestor knew of the man, he would not be content to allow that to continue.

“Fine,” he said softly. “But no tailing. If it even looks like they’ve spotted us, we disappear.”

“We’d have to shake anyone tailing us if that happened,” Sylvie said thoughtfully.

“Yep,” Geralt grinned and clapped Sylvie on the shoulder. “You’re a natural at this.” He started down the skyway and for another set of stairs.

They had just started for the second flight of stairs when Nestor heard a soft crack to the side. He froze. Had they been spotted already? Careful not to turn his head, he glanced out of the corner of his eye to see a dark, hulking shape down the adjacent alley. It was moving slowly, but not toward Nestor. He risked turning toward it fully as Sylvie stopped just ahead of him.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

Nestor didn’t respond, he was too busy trying to understand what he was looking at. The thing was shaped like a man, but only vaguely. It’s limbs were too stubby and its steps heavy and almost unsure--as though it had just started walking for the first time.

“Nestor?” Sylvie tried again. She moved closer to him and froze.

“Do you see that?” he managed, not daring to raise his voice above a whisper. If the creature had heard, it didn’t show it, instead continuing to lumber down the alleyway. A cloak had been draped over it, but its bare feet stuck out from the bottom. They were the color of stone and like the rest of it, mis-shapen.

“What is that?” Sylvie whispered. The creature stopped moving and she grabbed Nestor’s wrist, pulling him away from the alley mouth.

“What’s taking you two?” Geralt called back.

Nestor whipped a finger across his throat and Geralt went quiet. He glanced up at a nearby railing and Nestor nodded. With the practiced movements of someone who had done this far too many times, Geralt pulled himself onto the railing, and from there a low awning.

Nestor followed silently, helping Sylvie behind him. Within the span of less than a minute, they had pulled themselves onto a nearby roof.

“What’s wrong?” Geralt whispered.

Nestor motioned for him to follow and slunk to the edge of the roof. It was just close enough to the alleyway that they would have a clear view.

No mis-shapened creature greeted them. Nestor glanced around wildly. Had it followed them out? Where could it have gone? If it had entered the street, the few people out window shopping hadn’t seemed to notice.

Geralt caught his gaze and Nestor shook his head. “I don’t see it,” he said softly after glancing at the neighboring roofs. Surely something that awkward looking wouldn’t be able to climb up to the rooftops.

“What was it?” Geralt asked. They slid to the other side of the peaked roof, neatly out of view of the street in case anyone happened to glance up.

“Some kind of…man,” Sylvie said.

Geralt stared at her. “Somebody was watching us?”

Nestor shook his head. “No, it wasn’t a person, and it was moving away. Maybe it didn’t see us.”

“What do you mean it wasn’t a person?”

“It just wasn’t. It looked wrong,” Nestor said after a moment of debating how to describe the creature’s crude proportions.”

“It didn’t have human feet,” Sylvie agreed.

Geralt shook his head slowly. “Ok. So there’s some weird man wandering around. Not our problem.”

“A creature that might have seen us,” Sylvie reminded him.

“And it’s not chasing us. Maybe it’s shy.” Geralt swallowed and ran his fingers through his hair. “We’ll just have to keep an eye out when we head home.” He moved for the edge of the roof and lowered himself into the adjacent alley. Nestor half expected the creature to appear in that alley right then and there, but nothing happened beyond Geralt staring up at them expectantly.

“We can’t go home quickly if we were spotted anyway,” he said soft enough that Nestor could only just make out his words. “We need to wander around for a bit anyway.”

Sylvie nodded and slid off the roof. She dusted off her cloak when her feet hit the ground.

Nestor gripped the edge and followed, dropping the last foot or so.

They headed back for the stairs. Nestor felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle uncomfortably. Could he risk a glance back. As casually as he could, he glanced back down at the street. Nothing except a young girl who was rubbing her face against the glass of a toy store.

“So that’s where everyone’s been,” Geralt said once they came to the second level. Nestor glanced in the direction his friend was looking in. Like before, the amount of shoppers he was accustomed to simply weren’t there, but unlike before a crowd of Skystead’s elite had gathered around a raised podium.

They wandered closer, making a show to point out displays in the windows. They had just stopped to admire the display of a bakery when Nestor began to make out some of the words.

“Truly a marvel of our day,” an excited voice remarked over the crowd. “This will revolutionize the way we defend ourselves!”

The way Sylvie stiffened told him that she had heard the voice as well.

“Act natural,” he murmured as he wrapped an arm around her and pointed at an elaborate cake. “They won’t see us if we blend in.” Still, he found himself glad that she had left her goggles back on the ship. Anything that gave them less identifiable characteristics.

“So that’s the man?” Geralt murmured as he casually readjusted his mask. “Where’s the woman?”

He strode for the crowd and it took everything in Nestor not to wrench him back. If they bolted right then, they would be spotted for sure. Instead he followed after Geralt. His mask itched and he found himself wanting to tear the thing off.

He forced himself to wander deeper into the crowd after casting a glance over at Sylvie. She was walking stiffly, but not enough for anyone to notice.

“Keep in mind this is just a demonstration,” Alaric called over the gathered crowd. “We’re still developing these.”

Nestor snorted. Developing new ways to murder people? He glanced up at the stage and felt himself stiffen and freeze in place despite telling his limbs that they had to keep moving.

A large creature, easily a head taller than Alaric and four times as thick stood before the gathered crowd. Its limbs were thick and stocky, with legs far too short for it and arms too long. Its face was blank with the barest trace of an imprint where its eyes should have been and a thin line for a mouth.

Alaric raised his arms above his head and the creature copied his movements to the excited murmuring of the crowd.

“Can it think?” someone called up excitedly.

“No, my fine Sir, it cannot,” Alaric said proudly. “Think of it as a shadow. It can copy my movements and nothing more.” He leapt high into the air and the creature followed, a movement that seemed to defy its sheer size.

Nestor grabbed the back of Geralt’s shirt to keep him from wandering to the front of the crowd. “That’s the thing from earlier,” he hissed.

Geralt glanced back. “So? It’s just one of their weird alchemy experiments. It can’t do anything on its own.”

“That’s the thing from earlier.” Nestor repeated. “The thing that might have seen us.”

Through the thin slits in Geralt’s mask, Nestor could see Geralt’s eyes widen as he made the connection.

“Where’s the lady?” he asked. He rose to his toes, trying to look around the gathered crowd.

“Come on,” Sylvie said at her normal volume. Nestor glared at her before remembering that she couldn’t see his face through the mask. Did she want someone to notice them? “I’m bored with this little presentation. Let’s finish shopping.” She strode confidently for one of the neighboring shops--a jeweler from the look of the trinkets in the window.

“Another one, Rachel?” Geralt asked after Nestor elbowed him. “We’ve been shopping all morning.”

“I want to see what Zedekiah's made,” Sylvie shot back. She had pitched her voice higher than she normally did. “Father said I could get a new necklace this month.” She marched them to the shop and stepped inside.

An elderly shopkeeper wearing goggles that magnified his eyes to a disturbing degree glanced up. “Don’t touch anything,” he admonished in a squeaky voice.

“Just browsing,” Sylvie said, still in her high pitched voice.

The shopkeeper nodded and went back to the trinket he was working on.

“Look at this one,” Sylvie said, pointing at a large gold and ruby piece. “I think mother would so love it if we surprised her with it. Perhaps we can convince father, he’ll be coming home soon, won’t he?”

It was a little sloppy, but Nestor understood what she was asking. “He might take longer tonight. He mentioned that he had friends visiting at his work today.” What kind of friends the upper class of Skystead had visiting them at their jobs, Nestor didn’t know, but the shopkeeper didn’t seem to question it. He wouldn’t be surprised if the old man couldn’t hear them through the wispy hairs that were growing out of his ears.

Geralt had moved closer to the front window and was watching the gathered crowd.

“What do you think of this one, Jeremiah?” Sylvie asked.

Jeremiah? He shook it off and looked at the elegant silver and sapphire necklace behind a thick wall of glass.

“It’s pretty,” he said. He glanced back out at the window. How long did people usually spend in these shops?

“This is boring,” Geralt complained. Nestor winced. Too young. The shopkeeper didn’t look up from his work though. “Let’s head back for supper. Mother should have it completed about now.”

Geralt headed for the door and Sylvie and Nestor followed.

“Let’s head for the lower levels,” Geralt murmured as the bell rang. “There’s plenty of spaces we can disappear into.” They headed for the skyways. Just as they began to head down the first staircase, a cheer arose from the gathered crowd.

Nestor shivered.