Gen soars overhead, the key glinting in his beak. He lands, and we all rush to shower the bird in due praises. Overwhelmed by the attention, Gen drops the key in our midst and flutters well out of reach, where he sounds a few warning squawks.

Agan, too, keeps her distance, though the swell of pride is unmistakable. Tiva shimmies his way over the wall some minutes later to his own show of gratitude. I could hug the little beast, but the only thing that interests him is the handful of berries that Teak has already prepared for him.

The elation building in my chest has me half convinced I could fly. Finally, we are on our way. To overthrow Dager. To save the Balaiins. To finding my family.

I cast the spell of The Unconsuming Flame, and we celebrate through what is left of the night. Tiva is plied with offerings until he is round enough to roll, and hands are clapped on Agan's straight back. Our gratitude knows no bounds. But, still, the real battle has yet to come.

It is decided that Wart is too obvious for infiltration, so he must wait in the woods to be used as a final resort. In spite of all that she has heard, Mab is fixed on trying to find a peaceful solution to this. The rest of us plan for the fallout.

My first priority is my family. Finding them, or at least find out what happened to them. If they remain, Corsa will help us. She will know what to do. If not... then we will have a place to hide.

Teak's family is loyal to Dager. As is most of Köv's. To alert even one of our presence would be to put us into danger. Agan does not volunteer her family's situation, and we have to assume that they will be of no aid.

So, to my farmhouse, we plan to steal. It is far enough on the outskirts that we will not have to venture through town. The cover of darkness is still our greatest ally. We wonder how long it will take for Dager to take note of the key's absence.

Mab hopes that it is of hardly any use these days. Köv wagers a max of a week. None of us cares to wait that long. On the precipice of this final strike, we are all too ready to act. Still, Ohna pressures us to wait until sunset. To fumble this in the last act would be the greatest tragedy of all.

We rest uneasily in preparation for the night ahead of us. I will lead the way to the house. From there, depending what we find, we will regroup and strategize. Mab favors approaching her father directly. Reasoning with him. Köv, who has seen a darker side of him, thinks this impossible.

"For what it's worth," Ohna offers. "I know I am not a part of this, so excuse me for involving myself..."

"You are plenty involved already. What do you have to say?"

"Mab could be right. Why start out fighting, if it could be avoided altogether. Sure we could win, but neither side will escape without losses. We should only engage, if absolutely necessary."

"It will be," Köv murmurs.

"Then so be it. At least we will have tried."

"I agree. I'd rather not fight," says Teak.

Outnumbered, Köv succumbs. Reluctantly, albeit.

"Fine," he says. "But I want to be there."

"Fine," Mab agrees. "But not because I need you. We should all be there."

"Just in case," Ohna agrees.

"Just in case."

Night falls, and we rehash our individual duties. We pack our packs. I say my goodbyes to Wart.

He is unhappy to be left, I can sense it in the shifting of his heavy feet, but it is important that we not reveal ourselves too soon. Especially if peace is an option. He would be an immediate target. A perceived threat. And peace under duress is not much of a peace at all.

I stroke the scales between his eyes, wide enough now to fit the entirety of my hand. He groans at me, but I nod my assurance. It will be fine. I try to convey this to him, but our communication is nowhere near as sophisticated as Agan's. All I can hope is to keep him quiet—quiet and still—until we know where we stand.

The key is heavy in my hands, and the lock screeches as I turn it after so many days of disuse. This far into the forest, we are at no risk of being heard by the town, but I wince nonetheless. I stand by the door until everyone has entered, and then I shut it behind us.

There are no guards posted. Undoubtedly, they have no fear of a breach. Who would want to break into this town, anyway? Much of the trees have been razed, either for warmth or for security, and the once dense wood offers little shelter.

We pick our way from cluster to cluster attempting to hide, but the night is still and unassuming. It looks like a ghost town from here. Not a single light burns on the square. I strain my eyes to make out even a pinpoint of light in the distance, but there is none. A breeze causes me to shiver, but the others are waiting. I forge into the darkness, finding my way home from mere memory.

These woods are full of them. How often had I played here as a child. Alone or with Corsa and the twins. Creek beds have run dry, intersected by the heavily fortified wall. The ground is cracked and hard. Puffs of dust rise with each step. The fields where we used to grow our crops are overrun with weeks. I wonder not for the first time how those left behind have been surviving.

Dager had promised that our families would be tended in our absence, but I see now that that was a lie. There isn't enough. Even if I could count upon his generosity, the feat would have been impossible.

How many people have left? What home could possibly be worth this threat against your life? Not when such beautiful lands lay within reach.

It occurs to me then how afraid I had been to leave. The fear of the unknown was a certain possessor. And Dager had ingrained into us the inhumanity of the travelers, the dangers that lay beyond his reach of protection. Our borders were secure. But rather than protecting us from the outside world, it was starving us of it.