2412 Strilaxis 12, Jyda

Asopus loomed over Reeca like a cloud of doom as she tore through the wide ranges of foggy peaks. She left Oaksham three days ago and arrived at Carleon by the second quarter of the first sphere. At least, according to Reeca's estimate. She didn't pick up a timeteller back in Oaksham.

Reeca spread her hands over her hood and wove a scarf which she pressed to her nose. The smell of blood wafting in the air was enough to send Reeca gagging. She exhaled through her nose and glanced at the people milling about the steep streets. She folded her wings close to her body and threw her cloak atop them. Between her blue wings and her golden locks that don't look like anywhere near a banshee, she was a sure sight for the bloodshot eyes.

It was quiet up to a deathly point as expected of Asopus, Carleon's most dangerous city. It didn't earn the name City of Crooks for nothing. This was where thieves, pirates, and fugitives build their homes, away from the eyes of the policing force. Away from everyone's eyes, it would seem.

The fog, the thick forest, and even the bumpy and unpolished roads were sure to drive a law-abiding citizen out of the city but for guilty fiends plotting something shady, Asopus was a perfect place to hide. Probably the reason why Reeca found herself here after a short while in her adventures.

Reeca tapped the tip of her boot into the moist soil and straightened her back. Time to walk. Banshees dressed in dark tunics lined with graspel furs glanced at her, no doubt wondering among themselves who this peculiarly dressed stranger was.

Asopus was a trading city. Shouldn't these people have gotten used to strangeness already?

Reeca resisted the urge to click her tongue. People here have sharp hearing and a simple noise or gesture could set off a slew of unpleasant events that always ended with someone dying. Shivers rode down Reeca's arms and she pulled her hood lower. As much as she liked watching tavern brawls, she didn't want to cause a scene. Not when she has something important to do.

Reeca craned her neck to trace where the road sloped to a mild peak. Good thing Asopus wasn't as treacherous as Lifver in terms of climbs. A neigh resounded from Reeca's right and she stepped aside in time for a merchant's caravan to pass her by. The paulsaris, with their striped, black and white coat, regarded her before pushing forward with their six legs trodding gently across the moist soil.

She blinked. Even after more than a year of holing out in Carleon, Reeca still hasn't gotten used to seeing a riding animal with six legs. The sight almost made the dagrine in Cardina, with their horns and short snouts, look normal.

Reeca pressed her scarf harder against her skin. Over the course of her walking, she had passed at least a dozen taverns made of bricks. Splintered wood stood for windows and the sound of glass tinkling rang from the inside. The air around this area always smelled like spoiled wine, sweat, and dried animal blood.

She studied the road with its dredges of wheel tracks and paulsare hoof-prints. Vast canopies of trees spread out before her in an expanse, reminding her that she was viewing an entire forest from the top. On the horizon, beyond the foggy landscape, stood silhouettes of higher peaks that would compose Drodham and Anchester. Somewhere in those shadows lie the Temple of Souls.

Her wings perked from underneath her cloak. Reeca wanted to fly. Badly. However, she couldn't risk drawing attention to herself. Not here. Not now. She was here to meet Kym.

After so long.

What had transpired in Cardina plucked Reeca's strings more than she had let on. Because of her and her inventions, someone had died. Indirectly, Reeca was at fault despite what Xanthy and the others would say.

This was why she was out here, staking her neck and braving the pain of her wings. She would correct a mistake she had made by trusting someone.

Reeca sighed. She met Kym by accident some time after running away from the Palace. At that time, Reeca was alone, having been separated from Rhys, and seeing someone—anyone—was a breath of fresh air for her.

Considering Kym was a banshee, Reeca had surmised that Kym knew the terrain better than anyone. So, Reeca chose to stick around, of course, until such time Rhys came for her, which, for the record, he never did.

Kym had even proved a great friend at the beginning. They built a shack in Asopus together, hunted and ate together, went on adventures in killing graspel together. It was the most fun Reeca had in years.

She was a child, then.

Then, Kym started asking Reeca for weavings. Innocent requests at first, like lanterns or never-dulling daggers to help disable graspel. Soon, it became wilder and wilder until such time the banshee pushed Reeca into devising a long range weapon that used a purely systematic projection and not one trace of magic. Reeca had thought of it as a challenge when Kym introduced using metal-capped bullets and odian powder to power the whole thing.

Reeca had spent weeks perfecting the mechanism and when she finally did, Kym distanced herself. The banshee would disappear for days before returning one day at the time. When Kym did get back, it was always with more requests to make more flintlocks, as Reeca had decided to call her created firearm.

Reeca should have caught the clues by then. She should have ran away even before Kym made her invent the flintlock. She wouldn't have this massive responsibility on her shoulders. She wouldn't have been in this mission of correcting her mistake.

When a platoon of half-bloods ravaged their shack, Reeca shouldn't have acted out in rage and proceeded to go to Cardina in an attempt to avenge Kym. She should've just stayed put.

But if she did, she wouldn't have been acquainted with Vikara Sandiega, or more accurately, Elred Valkalin. Reeca had learned from the Shard Fairy things that would have taken her and Rhys a lifetime to uncover.

Then, came the point in the Palace in Cardina. Seeing one of her inventions in the hands of a tyrant Queen had been the subject of most of her nightmares for a while now. The click of the trigger and the explosion of powder as the bullet flew out of the barrel had been so fresh in Reeca's memory. She doubted she could shake the dread the memory brought to her gut for a long time, still.

Kym was not who Reeca thought the banshee was. Erin, the Human Queen, knew Kym by name. The Human Queen and her son, the Crown Prince of Cardina worked for the Heiress, the head of an organization called Cardovia.

It wouldn't take a genius to assume that Kym works for Cardovia and the Heiress, too. Hence, Reeca had to trek back to Carleon to have a word with Kym. Straight from her friend and no one else. She would get answers. She would correct her mistakes.

The road sloped to an incline before flattening out. Reeca had come to the next town carved right at the side of a mountain. She blew a breath. It's now or never.

Shacks much like the ones Reeca and Kym had built peppered the town in hazy clusters, weaving through tree trunks and flowering bushes. It hadn't taken Reeca long before she caught a glimpse of where it all started.

Her legs felt like pudding as soon as she reached the shack. It loomed over her like a broken bone sticking out of skin with splinters and fixtures either thrown out of the vicinity or scattered inside. The roof had long ago caved in and the walls were the only sign that there was once a shack that stood here.

The door was still left intact. Reeca took a deep breath as she forced her legs to step into the meager porch, grab the knob, and go inside. A rickety squeak emanated from the hinges as Reeca pushed the door forward. She strained her ears for other sounds but apart from her boots crunching against the brittle leaves covering the forest floor, there was nothing. Everything was quiet.

Too quiet, in fact.

Her foot hit something hard. She looked down, but in the meager sunlight that made it past the fog and the canopies, she couldn't see what it was. She narrowed her eyes, bent down, and felt it with her fingers. A barrel. A muzzle. A trigger. Her heart thundered in her chest.

A flintlock. Her flintlock.

Reeca blew a shaky breath. She stood up, tucking the firearm on her belt with the muzzle buried in her trousers. She didn't even check if it had any bullets left.

The shack was a mess. Several of her and Kym's things were still around, coated with dust and mud. Reeca fished out a knife, the one she used to carve knaris fruits into funny shapes to impress Kym. She spied her forge on the far corner, still intact with ash from burning coals piled by its mouth. A broken table sat upturned in another corner.

The walls were cracked and one to Reeca's left sported a hole where she punched a half-blood so hard the head burst through. Did that person ever survive?

Reeca ventured deeper into the house. It was bigger than she remembered it to be. The time she spent in this house felt like a dream she'd conjured for herself. Walking through it now was like waking up to the truth and realizing it had been a nightmare.

Her boots clinked against something metallic again. She looked down to find another flintlock, hidden on the peeling floorboards that only surfaced because of the action around the house. Reeca whirled around, noting more possible hiding places. Up on the cupboard, below the forge, even up in the broken ceilings. It turned out she was right. She found one in all places.

She kept looking until she unearthed a total of twenty flintlocks. She dropped them into a pile on the muddy floor and lit her fingers with pure weaving energy that resembled fire. It's time to finish this.

"Reeca?"

Reeca whirled, thrusting her flaming hand forward. A face blocked her hand's path. She froze.

Kym's pale face stood a few inches to her right. "It's been a long time," said the banshee, unfazed by Reeca's actions. Her smile showed crooked, yellowing teeth that banshees were known for. "What are you doing with those flintlocks?"

Reeca turned away from her friend, her heart still pounding against her chest. She shook her head. She should not be affected by her friend's sudden appearance. "I'm destroying them. They're too dangerous."

"No, they're not," Kym stopped beside Reeca, following her gaze down to the pile of flintlocks. Not an angle changed from her friend's face. It was like old times, just Reeca and Kym.

Reeca blinked her eyes furiously. She frowned at the flintlocks. She remembered what she was here for. "I saw a friend killed with this. The Human Queen did it," Reeca stepped forward to finish it when Kym blocked her path with a side step.

Reeca paused. Her friend didn't look bothered at the mention of the Human Queen.

"I see Erin figured it out," Kym smiled yet again. "She was the one giving me problems during the lessons."

Stones dropped in Reeca's gut. "Lessons?"

"Yes," Kym's voice was flat and casual, like this was something they both knew. "I was leading a lesson on how to make, use, and maintain a flintlock. It seems you helped me find my stash in Asopus, so thank you."

Reeca's eyes widened. She stepped backward. "You—"

She went weightless. Her head hit a far wall, jarring her vision. She tried standing up but a hard, unseen hand bore down on her shoulder. A growl rumbled in her throat. "Kymalin!"

The banshee crouched among the flintlocks and pried open the hatch. The safety clicked off and the trigger screeched as Kymalin braced her knees to haul herself up. "This one's still full," Kymalin strode towards Reeca, her yellow, lamp-like eyes void of expression. "I wonder how many will it take to kill you?"

"Wha—I'm your friend, Kym!" Reeca shouted. Her voice rang empty against the broken walls. Gods, she sounded desperate. The weight in her shoulder tightened.

"Let her go, Flavis," Kym glanced at the air beside Reeca's head. "She's harmless."

The hand on her shoulder slipped off. Reeca slapped the air where she suspected the ghost was, but no one was there. Kymalin chuckled.

"I could say Flavis takes a huge liking to you," Kym braced her hip as she played with the flintlock's trigger. "Ghouls like to eat troubled souls like you. Fear for breakfast."

"It's the middle of the day," Reeca shot up and Kym swept the flintlock, pointing it to Reeca's face, just as fast.

"Watch every step, Reeca," Kymalin warned. "I will fire."

Reeca scoffed. "Then fire. What's stopping you? Affection?"

Kym's knuckles hardened on the barrel. Her chest rose and fell in rapid successions. "Shut up."

Reeca forced her tongue to unlatch and work. Work Kymalin up. Perhaps, Reeca could still worm her way out of this mess. She gritted her teeth against the thundering heartbeat in her ears. She came here to know things, not to die at gunpoint.

"Why are you giving out flintlocks? Why are you doing this?" Reeca asked aloud.

"Because I have to," Kym's eyes hardened like iokline seeds. "I need to."

Okay, that's not anything. Reeca swallowed her saliva against the dryness of her throat. "Why do you need to? What are you doing in Cardovia?"

A sharp intake of breath resounded along the walls. The flintlock shook at Kymalin's hand. "How do you know about that?"

Reeca forced herself to stare at Kyamlin's narrowed eyes and guarded stance. "Answer the question," Reeca pressed.

"You first," Kymalin spat on the ground.

"I'm not that ignorant," Reeca tucked her hand behind her, feeling for the barrel for her own stashed flintlock. "Now answer mine."

"I need to do it to save him," Kymalin's voice was quiet but her grip on the flintlock never wavered. "The Heiress said she could heal him."

Reeca nodded, recalling that bit of information Kymalin uttered to her once. "Your brother?"

Kymalin's face darkened. "That's none of your business."

"You wouldn't want this," Reeca put her hands in front of her. Her eyes darted around the room while keeping her voice modulated to sound like she was afraid now that she had a gun pointed at her face. "We're friends, remember?"

Kymalin's lamp-like yellow eyes flashed. "We're not friends," the banshee rasped. "You're just a cover!"

Before Reeca could discern why Kymalin would need to scream that last bit, twenty figures dropped next to Kymalin's side, all pointing flintlocks at her. The stash behind Kymalin was swiped clean.

"What is this?" Reeca hissed, her other hand disappearing behind her once more. No, she wouldn't be able to take on twenty bullets at once with just one flintlock. She...needed something more.

"A lesson," Kym waved her hand at her companions. "I'm teaching them how to kill a fairy who knows too much. "

Reeca drew her sword and her flintlock. Looks like she would need to fight her way out, then. "You're challenging me?" she added an amused laugh for effect. "I can kill you in a blink."

Kym chuckled, matching Reeca's pace. "Not when you have twenty bullets in you. They will fire. You don't have a chance."

"Watch me."

Reeca threw her sword and the apprentices scattered like flies. She surged forward, flexing her hands at the broken table before her sword could embed itself on the opposite wall. The table responded to her weaving energy and zipped towards her, hitting three apprentices at the back of their legs as it went.

The rest fired their flintlocks but Reeca had already weaved through the wood of the table. She kept her hold on the table's tangible trail and used it to catch the bullets. She ran around the house, looking for an exit.

With the table blocking her view, she only heard Kymalin shouting at her apprentices to go back to order and to shoot. Reeca tucked the flintlock back into her belt and came to a solid wall. It must be the one that survived the fight before.

Well, not this time.

Reeca placed her hand on the wall and sent her magic in a huge blast. The wall's trail quivered under her influence and with one grunt, Reeca pushed with all her might. With a sickening crunch, the wall gave way.

A bullet whizzed past her left ear. Reeca dove through the hole and came face-to-face with an organized army. Kymalin had been busy, then. Her table-shield shook as it took bullet after bullet. Splinters rained on her. They're closing in.

The army hasn't spotted her yet. Reeca cursed. Between those behind her and those in front, she'd choose to fight in an open space rather than in a cooped-up house. Reeca loosened her grip on the table's trail and sent it flying behind her with a kick.

The table sailed backward, hitting the apprentices and Kym like a broom sweeping dirt. The table hit their legs and they crashed into each other. Kym was lost in a jumble of limbs and dark robes, screaming bloody curses.

Reeca stepped away from the house and resealed the wall with her magic. A dagger embedded itself on it.

Whirling, she barked a rysteme spell. Arrows, spells, and an occasional whatraut critter bounced off the pinkish shield shrouding her. Vibrations speared through her arms as spells collided with her shield. Her vision tunneled.

Soldiers clad in black, similar to the one Reeca had seen in the Cardina Palace, paraded in the street. Banshees who were not used to seeing forces in Asopus had long cleared the town. Merchants have vanished with their caravans. This was not good. Reeca couldn't use crowds to hide if there were no crowds at all.

A spell rammed straight through Reeca and her shield shattered. Oh, Rudik's ass. Just as another spell screamed for Reeca, she gritted her teeth and summoned pure weaving energy to block it.

Her vision danced. Oh, gods. Letting pure weaving energy was never an acceptable practice among varichriais. It drained the body of magical energy faster than granting it to a tangible trail. Reeca hissed as more spells hit her makeshift shield. No matter. She should just get out of here.

Her weaving energy pulsed bright blue beside her as she ran parallel from the paraded army. When they caught on that they couldn't hit her from where they stood, they scattered. Now spells rained on her from all directions.

Reeca was forced to expand her weaving-shield around her, resulting in another bout of blurred vision. It's also impractical to run while maintaining a shield. Her chest heaved; sweat trickled down her face.

Her legs felt heavy so she swept her cloak aside and set her wings free. She leaped. Something creaked. She crashed face-first, her shield blinking out of existence like smoke. The projectiles stopped. The tranquil returned.

"What's wrong, Reeca?" Kymalin's voice rang in her head. Reeca groaned and forced herself to stand up. She had to run.

"Having trouble with wings?" Kymalin's flat, haunting voice bled through her ears. Oh, gods. Make it stop.

Reeca gasped as she tried moving her wings but they stayed locked in their folded position. She grunted and gritted her teeth, flexing her back muscles to make her wings work again. Nothing happened. Her wings didn't budge. Her back exploded in pain.

Kym's humorless laugh was louder now. "Kill her."

Reeca would not end here. Not yet.

Just as the first volley of spells and people lunged for her, Reeca flexed her fingers, reached into her own trail, and wrapped her own weaving energy around it.

The whole forest stopped. From Reeca's vantage point, they seem confused. How could a fairy vanish when she's not a brownie? Reeca fought off a cold grin. There were some things a varichria could do to disappear, too.

With cold sweat flowing on Reeca's back, she traipsed ahead, tackling Asopus's steep roads until she could get out of this place.

"Reconnaissance for Phiaris's daughter failed for now," Kymalin's voice rang through the forest. "She might be able to tell us something about the thrones but she has disappeared. Permission to continue the search?"

Reeca froze in her tracks and she found herself creeping from behind a tree to see Kymalin clutching a metallic thing shaped like a compass in her hands.

"Phiaris is important to the mission. I understand that, Peredeira," Kymalin said into the device in her hands. "Perhaps her daughter will be to your liking?"

A pause.

Kymalin nodded. "Understood," she declared with a respectful finality. "She should be in Carleon soon. Just in time for the action."

The forest breeze was cold. Kymalin was baiting Reeca to go to Carleon. There was something about Phiaris, the late Narfalk Queen, that has to do with all of this. Reeca's mother, Phiaris Torlin, knew something about this and Carleon promised answers. Reeca would find answers in Carleon.

Hearing Kymalin say Reeca's mother's name left a cold blur of emotion in Reeca's throat. She wanted to be angry, to stab the banshee or tear her apart. Though, for now, she had to escape. She had to survive. She still had to fix her wings.

Kymalin has something planned. The "action" the banshee was talking about couldn't have been just a reconnaissance mission to capture Reeca. Something big was coming. Reeca had to play into Kymalin's trap for now. Someone or some place might be in danger.

Dread and something along the line of excitement danced in Reeca's gut as she padded into the dark forest. She would probably reach Drodham by sundown tomorrow if her wings let her.