Cal 15

“If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times!” Teagan said as she marched into the room carrying a smoldering sack. “If you don’t properly anchor the runes on your projects, all you’ve done is hand in a fucking time bomb.” She reached in to withdraw a twisted hunk of metal before chucking it in the direction of a mountain of a boy sitting in the third row. It landed next to him with a dull crunch. Teagan leaned against her lectern and rubbed her temples.

“Gods below, Yaxley, students like you are the reason I drink!” She paused for a moment and frowned. “Alright… one of the reasons.”

She launched into her daily lecture. As usual, class took the form of Teagan explaining what mistakes were made in the last challenge. Sometimes, the mistakes were basic, such as Yaxley’s failure to anchor his runes, causing the energy contained within the magic to seek new and explosive means of expression. Other times, the issues were more esoteric. Many of the students would try and act like nothing she said phased them, but from the discomfort on their faces, it was apparent when Teagan was talking about their mistake.

“One of you turned in this design,” she continued, holding up a metal vest. Cal saw another student, a girl named Viraen, wince in recognition. “It is designed to be worn and to deliver an electric shock to anyone who strikes it. Fine, clever enough, and the runes serve their purpose.” Viraen relaxed slightly, which was a mistake. Teagan locked eyes with her.

“But there are three mistakes in the design. The first and most glaring is that there is nothing to stop the vest from shocking the wearer. Next, the runes are not protected, and even light damage to them could cause them to fail, or worse, cause a catastrophic discharge of energy. Lastly,” she held up the vest to her own torso, “what good would this do against a determined attack? It barely covers the vital organs, and the metal plating is so thin it might as well not even be there!” She tossed the vest back into the pile with the rest of the projects.

She sighed. “There is one additional problem that almost all of you had.” She looked around the room. “Your last assignment was to create something to defend yourself with. I would’ve thought the wording in this task was pretty clear, but apparently not.” She gestured at the pile of items. “Everyone, with the exception of Callion, handed in a defensive item. Or in Yaxley’s case, a tool I can only assume was designed to assist in suicide.” She scoffed. “Shields, means of escape, even a very loud whistle that is, and I quote, ‘supposed to alert the guards.’” Her piercing gaze could’ve melted ice. “Callion was the sole member of this class who decided to go on the offensive.” She withdrew Cal’s gravity crossbow and fired it at the wall. More than one student flinched as the bolt shattered the stone and sent a hail of shrapnel down upon them.

“A shield will not stop a sword, it will only delay it from reaching its target.” She gently set down the crossbow and turned to look each of her students in the eyes. “If you are attacked, stop them, subdue them, and while there are those higher up in the administration who would rather I not say this, kill them if you must. If you are unable to handle the inevitability of conflict, then you shouldn’t have joined. We are the Summer Court, you milksops!”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I think it goes without saying, Callion wins this challenge. For those of you keeping score, this puts her in second place for the whole class, one point behind Rathana.”

Cal sucked in air. When she’d first arrived, she’d thought partaking in the challenges would give her the appearance of a proper student. She hadn’t expected to do this well in them… or to enjoy them so much.

“What’s more,” Teagan continued, “I suppose I should congratulate all of you on having made it this far. We’ve reached the midpoint of your first semester at Istima, and only four out of twenty of you have dropped out. To those of you dragging your feet, it’s time to start thinking about advancement.  Only the top twenty-five percent of the class, based on points accrued, will move on. The rest may either try again or leave.” Her words hung in the air. With sixteen students in the room, only four of them could advance. Cal was aware of the eyes on her now.

“There is still half a semester left, and many things can change, even for those of you who haven’t won a single challenge.” She threw a pointed glare in Yaxley’s direction. “But, as of right now, Rathana, Callion, Viraen, and Lorrel would be the students moving up a rank. The next four closest to them are Jasten, Bachan, Koris, and Arden.”

Perhaps Cal was being paranoid, or perhaps she was beginning to understand how this ridiculous school worked. Teagan wasn’t just letting everyone know where they stood, but putting a target on the backs of the top four. Still, it felt good to see Jasten’s brow furrow in consternation. All semester, he’d lagged behind her, and his annoyance had begun to turn into anger.

“With all that in mind, this next challenge is special for three reasons. One,” she held up a finger, “you can make whatever you want. The only goal is to impress me.” She waited for the students to stop murmuring to each other. “Two,” a second finger went up, “there will be three winners.” The whispers were louder this time, and took longer to die down. “And three,” she extended a third finger, “each winner will receive three points.”

Across the classroom, Cal saw Jasten sit upright. He couldn’t have been very far behind Viraen and Lorrel. Winning this challenge could put him into the top four. For almost everyone else, three points was at least enough to bring them back into the running. Teagan leaned back and smiled, pleased with the firebomb she’d just dropped on them.

“That’s it. Class is over. Everyone but Callion, leave the room.” Cal froze in place, raising an eyebrow in question. “We have something to discuss, my lady.” The title dripped off her tongue like acid.

As the rest of the students made their way out, Cal approached the lectern.

“Nice speech,” she said.

“Nice toy,” Teagan gestured to her gravity crossbow. “I think I’ll sell it.”

“I registered it with the Bank this morning,” Cal smiled. “But I’ll give you resale rights for, oh, say, a twenty-five percent take of the profits?”

The faintest hint of a smile formed in the corners of Teagan’s mouth. “So, the stuck-up little noblewoman can learn a thing or two.” She folded her arms over her chest. “How’d you learn you about these runes?”

“I’m no going to just—”

“No,” Teagan held up a hand, “I could hardly expect a student to divulge their source so easily. I ask because, despite my personal disinterest, I do have a responsibility to my students. Especially those who actually show promise, which unfortunately, you do. It doesn’t really matter where or how you found out about it, but just know that what you’re now working with is beyond most first-year students. Hell, there are second-years who still haven’t figured out how to make something like this. So be warned that this will get you the wrong sort of attention. In this place, knowledge kills as many as it helps. People may have already begun to see you as a way to get the information for themselves, or worse, as a potential threat.”

Cal wanted to laugh. Perhaps to Lady Callion Augurellia, that information would have been new, but it was a lesson Cal had learned long ago. “Thanks for the warning, but I can take care of myself.”

“It’s only the first semester, things will get far worse from here.” Teagan shrugged. “Sure, you’ve made it this far, I’ll grant you that. But still…” she grabbed the gravity crossbow and extended it out to her. “I’d say it’s best if you hold on to this one.”

“You’re… giving it back to me?” Cal’s brow rose in surprise. “And here I thought you wanted to get rid of me!”

“Would you just take the damned thing?” Teagan seethed.

She smirked, grabbing the weapon and tucked it in her bag. “See you next class.” 

Out of the classroom, she made her way down the hall and back into the blazing sunlight. She climbed the steep staircase back up to the main yard of the Summer Court and looked down the two hundred foot drop to the city below. She was glad the sight no longer gave her vertigo as she climbed, and at the top, she found Rathana waiting for her.

“Cal! Congratulations on your win.”

“Thanks!” She smiled. She could tell he meant it.

She hadn’t come to know anyone else in her class aside from Rathana, with the unfortunate exception of Jasten. The rest of the students avoided her, perhaps out of jealousy, or perhaps because she was supposed to be nobility. If it was the latter, Cal couldn’t see the appeal in it. It seemed a rather lonely life, especially if it meant her only potential ‘peer’ was the esteemed Lord Jasten Forthale. She grimaced at the thought. 

But Rathana had only ever been genuine with her. She didn’t know much about Aketsi, but they didn’t seem to have a concept of royalty, which suited Cal just fine. But as friendly as he was now, with time, would he become a rival like Teagan warned?

“It shames me that I did not see the meaning behind Teagan’s challenge,” he said with a smile. “I designed a shield meant to absorb the kinetic energy of blows.” He shook his head. “I thought it rather clever at the time.”

“It’s not a bad idea,” Cal said. “And you’re still ahead of everyone else in class.”

“For now. We will see what happens after this next challenge.” He sighed, shifting his body from one set of legs to the other. “I am sure you will do well. You have an extraordinary ability to think outside the confines of the challenge.”

“You mean… to think outside the box?”

“The box?” Rathana frowned. “Oh! An idiom, I see. Apologies, your language is… quirky.”

“And pronounceable,” Cal laughed. “I went back to Chirrum’s bar the other day. I still can’t pronounce a damn thing on the menu. Fortunately, he remembered how much I like mho.” She didn’t add that it was also the cheapest meal she’d been able to find in the city. Her trips to Chirrum’s were about the only thing separating her from starvation.

“Well, I’ll have to join you again sometime.” He looked up at one of the numerous clock towers visible in the city below. “I have class to get to. I will see you around!”

As he trotted off, Cal rested her hands atop the stone rail and looked out across Istima. If she squinted, she could just make out the outline of Sable & Burr’s from here.

What was she planning to do for the next challenge? Up until now, she’d lucked out using Rathana’s book and, most recently, stealing designs from the ring she’d bought. But considering how much this challenge was worth, everyone would be putting in more effort. She’d need something truly impressive. Perhaps she could steal a new book on artificing? She shook her head. If it was worth anything, it would have anti-theft enchantments on it. Out of principle and lack of funds, she refused to just buy a book. She turned and looked back across the semi-circle of buildings surrounding the yard. Near the middle, the imposing tower of the Bank stood.

Cal had gone there in the morning to register her design. The inside had been rather plain by Istiman standards, but after the clerk had finished processing her design, she got a peak through the door and saw a staircase leading down to who knows where. How much information was gathered in there? If everyone registered their designs, then just about anything imaginable. That was the real mother lode.

“Well, he seemed nice,” a familiar voice said. Cal was stirred from her thoughts and turned to see Renna leaning against the railing. Anywhere else, Renna would’ve looked inconspicuous enough, but without the robes of a Summer Court student, she stood out here.

“What are you doing here?” Cal hissed, backing up slightly.

“Just taking in the view.” Renna said, flicking a pebble off the ledge, sending it tumbling toward the buildings far below. She gave a short whistle.“Figures that the mages would keep the best view for themselves.”

“If someone were to see us together—”

“Relax, would you? I’ve seen plenty of people come and go through here, quite a few of them shadier than me. You panicking is more likely to draw attention than us talking together.”

Cal returned to the railing, but she didn’t relax. Up until now, she’d been able to pretty cleanly separate her school from the rest of her life. It just didn’t seem right for Renna to be here.

“Okay,” she said, “then talk.”

“I thought I’d check in on you, see if you’d found any leads. I mean, you’ve been going to classes here for a while, you’ve gotta have seen something, right?”

“I’ve had some ideas, just haven’t acted on any of them yet.”

“Yeah? Let’s hear it.”

It had been a lie. Sure, she had her job with Sable & Burr, but she wasn’t going to complicate that by bringing Renna in. She looked around in panic before her eyes settled once again on the Bank. Suddenly, it all became clear. Her next assignment, another job with Renna, and advancement in the court.

She turned back to Renna and smiled. “How about another heist?”

Last Chapter                                                                                                          Next Chapter

Interlude: Professor Theodosia Amatar of the Night Court

~~~

Lyssana chapters will be delayed for a while as her writer takes a hiatus. If you have any secondary characters or aspects of the world you would like to see in the interludes filling that posting slot than let us know. 

~~~

“Professor?” A quiet voice said. Theodosia Amatar, professor of the Night Court, looked up from her desk. A wispy girl stood before her. “I was told to come find you. It’s happened again.”

She sighed, setting down her quill and standing up. “Show me.”

Theodosia, was, perhaps, the sanest member of the Night Court faculty. She supposed that also made her the most useless, at least where her court was concerned. But her relative lucidity served an important purpose—someone had to fetch the students when they started walking on the walls.

Metaphorically and, sometimes, physically.

She exited her office, following the girl. She led her outside, leaving the warm, yellow rune-lights of the staff hall and stepping into the courtyard. As the name implied, the Night Court existed in a state of permanent night. Some people found it disorienting, especially when through the entrance to the court, the sun was still high in the sky. Theodosia, for one, found it calming. The fall air was crisp, just beginning to lose the sticky warmth of summer evenings. Pale blue lights marked the stone paths, casting long shadows across the dark grass of the courtyard.

She followed the girl into another building, this one a lecture hall. Through the doors and up a flight of stairs they went, before turning a corner and stopping in their tracks.

The architecture before them was, for lack of a better word, moving. The dark, stone blocks flowed past each other like leaves in water, swirling in eddies of brick and mortar. First-years stumbled through the twisting hallway, unsure of how to navigate the morphing terrain. More than one upper-class student simply walked through, seemingly unphased by the ever-changing paths. Even as errant bricks flew past their faces, they kept a steady pace, and without fail, one classroom door or another would appear in their path, and they’d disappear through it.

“I… this was a hallway earlier,” the girl said, her voice doubtful.

“Yes, it was, wasn’t it?” Theodosia replied with a sigh. She turned to look at the girl. “What’s your name?”

“Nara, Professor.”

“Please stand back, Nara.”

Theodosia turned back to the shifting hallway and closed her eyes. She was the weakest of the faculty, but she was still faculty. And here, that required a will of iron. In her mind, she pictured the hallway not as it was, but as she knew it to be. And when she opened her eyes once more, it was as her mind saw it. Floor, walls, and ceiling, all where she expected to find them. More than one first-year quickly made their way across the stabilized path, unsure of what they had just witnessed.

“Better,” Theodosia said, nodding curtly. “Now, where is the student?”

Nara pointed up. Theodosia followed her gesture and saw a boy sitting cross-legged in the middle of the ceiling. She recognized him as Cole, a first-year. He was in her introductory seminar course, the class students affectionately called ‘The Breaker’. All of the new arrivals to her court took it in order to expand their mind, to learn how to challenge the assumptions they had been taught about reality.

“Thank you, Nara, I’ll handle it.” Theodosia walked over to one side of the hall and, focusing her will, planted one foot on the wall, then the other. For a brief, nauseating moment, the world went sideways. Then, her mind adjusted. When in the Night Court, you learned quickly that it was best to think of whatever surface you stood on as ‘the ground’.

She walked upwards to the ceiling, and the world shifted again as she made the ninety degree transition. Theodosia frowned as her hair turned upward to the ground. The nausea returned, the sensation of wrongness, of realities clashing together. She was on the ground, so why would her hair be falling upwards? She knew for a fact that her hair was wrong.

The thought alone was enough to assert her will, and she smiled as her hair settled into place back on her shoulders. That was better. With reality back in order, she crossed over to where Cole was sitting and joined him, ignoring the crowd gathering on the ceiling below her.

“Hello, Cole,” she said. “How are you today?”

“It’s all wrong,” he muttered. “How can it all be so wrong?”

Theodosia smiled softly, feeling a sense of relief. This was a simple enough issue, and quite common to first-years.

Some people joined the Night Court because all they wanted to do was learn how to think differently, but some entered the court because thinking differently was all they knew. Cole fell into the latter category. Across the semester, Theodosia had seen him open up. He’d found friends and excelled in class.

But excelling in the Night Court didn’t come without its cost. The magic of this place required a strong will, a will strong enough to overrule the suggestions of ‘reality’. Sometimes, a student could reject reality, but fail to substitute their own. The end result was mind-lock; getting caught in a state where no reality was true.

“Cole, do you know where we are right now?”

“Nowhere.”

“What a lovely place to be,” Theodosia said. “Do you know why?” Cole turned to look at her, eyes dull. “Because when you’re nowhere, you ‘know where’ you are!” She chuckled at her own  joke. Then she furrowed her brow. “So what happened, Cole?”

“I… was trying to get to a class—Introduction to Probability with Professor Akham. But I couldn’t remember where it was.” He paused, frowning. “Or… I did know? The building isn’t right, it isn’t like it was before.”

Theodosia nodded. “As I warned you all earlier in the semester, that can happen here. Too many minds all projecting different versions of reality have a tendency to… muddy the waters, as it were. So what happened next?”

“I was lost, and now I was running late. Then I thought, well, I know the class is in here somewhere, so why not right here?” He pointed at the ground for emphasis. “Then the hallway… I don’t know what happened to the hallway.”

“You looked before you leapt. You decided that the reality you currently inhabit was no longer accurate, but you failed to create a replacement.”

“And now nothing is real.” Cole hugged his own legs tight against his chest.

“You know, some researchers believe that there are actually an infinite number of realities, and that what we in the Night Court do is simply pull the one that we want into our world.” She stared up at the ground. “Of course,” she shrugged, “it’s impossible to say for certain if that is the case, but do you know what it would mean?”

“What?”

“That all of the realities are true. You just have to pick one.”

“But in class you told me to deny reality, and I did. But if reality can be so easily denied, than nothing is real. Nothing has meaning.”

“Denying reality doesn’t deprive it of importance, Cole!” Theodosia leaned back, propping herself up on her elbows. “Reality is a useful fiction—a white lie—and lies hold great value, especially the lies we believe.”

He turned to look at her. “But, if you know it’s a lie, how can you choose to believe it?”

Theodosia shrugged. “You just do. The same way you choose to believe in the gods, or true love, or a just and caring universe. There’s no way to prove their existence, but we believe it all the same. Because in our hearts, we want these things to be true.”

“I… I suppose that makes sense.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Now how about we give it a try, hmm? Let’s start with something easy. Can you choose to believe you are in the Umbral Court?”

Cole thought for a moment, then nodded.

Theodosia smiled. “And just like that, you are.” She looked up at the floor. “How about another? Can you choose to believe we are on the ground?”

“But, Professor…” Cole frowned, “we are on the ground!”

Theodosia looked around. Somehow, they were sitting on the floor of the hallway. If she craned her neck up, she could see the spot on the ceiling where they had been just moments ago. The crowd of students who had been watching her from above were now standing around them, and her eyebrows went up in surprise.

“So we are,” she said, standing. “Last one, okay? This is a big one. Can you choose to believe that you will be okay?”

“I… I am okay.” Cole said, his voice growing firm with conviction. “I know I am okay.”

“I know you are too.” She looked around at the gathered crowd. “Just as I know that you all have other places to be!” The students evaporated like fog in the rising sun. She turned back to him. “Go on and head to class, it should be at the other end of the hall. If Professor Akhan needs an explanation, tell him to find me.”

“Okay,” Cole said, running off. “Thanks, Professor!”

Theodosia smiled. That boy was going to go far here. To some, that could be considered a tragedy. After all, getting far in the Night Court often led one down a path others couldn’t follow, let alone understand. But for those like her, or like Cole, most already didn’t understand. It was like being a bird amongst fish, no matter how hard you tried, you would never be able to breathe underwater. Better for these strange birds to come here.

Where they could learn to fly.

Last Chapter                                                                                                          Next Chapter

Cal 14

“She sounds dangerous.”

Cal looked up from her work. Alendra was sitting opposite her on the floor of the attic of Sable and Burr’s, surrounded by scrolls and tomes. They’d been studying in silence for over an hour since Cal had told her about Renna.

“She’s not that bad,” Cal said. “Plus, she taught me most of what I know. I’d have been dead in a gutter if it weren’t for her.”

“Well, ‘not that bad’ sounds like a ringing endorsement.”

Cal rolled her eyes. “Trust me, that’s better than most where I’m from.” She looked back down at her project. This week’s artificing challenge was to make something that could be used to defend yourself. So far, she was sitting around a pile of scraps and hastily scrawled notes.

“Do you want to take a break? I feel stuck.”

“Hold on a second,” Alendra stared intently at the page of a book. “Got it!” She jumped up and put her hands out in front of her, fingers splayed and tensed.

“Oh no,” Cal said, scrambling to her feet. “Not in my room!”

“Relax, I know what I’m doing.” The air began to tremor and smell of ozone as Alendra concentrated. Cal felt a pressure, emanating from an invisible point floating in the center of the room. The wood beneath the point creaked, and the papers and books scattered across the floor as though pushed by a wind that wasn’t there. The effect held for a few moments, but it disappeared just as quickly as it appeared. Alendra threw up her hands and scowled.

“Gah! What’s wrong with me? I’m doing exactly what the books said to do!”

Cal looked around at the room.“What just happened?”

“It was supposed to be an omni-directional non-terrestrial antigravitational effect spell,” Alendra muttered, regathering her displaced books.

“Allie, you’re doing that thing again? The one that we talked about?”

“Hmm?” She looked up from her book. “Sorry, what was that?”

“You went all… Fall Court on me.”

“Right. I was trying to make this stupid spell work. It’s supposed to create a point of anti-gravitational force—that is, pushing instead of pulling. That in and of itself is hard, but I can do it. The harder part is that the force isn’t in the direction of natural gravity, so you’re working to counteract that while also adding another direction of force at the same time. Third, it’s in all directions. That’s why everything moved away from the center of the room where I cast it.”

“Okay, I think I get it. But what’s the problem? You were doing it!”

“A few seconds that leaves me breathless is hardly ‘doing it’.” 

Cal tried and then failed to suppress a snicker. 

Alendra frowned. “What? What’s so—” She frowned as what she’d said dawned on her. “Oh, grow up, Cal!”

Cal let out a full laugh. A couple seconds later, Alendra joined in.

“So you want the spell to last more than a few seconds,” Cal said once they’d calmed down. “What’s the problem? Is it a… energy problem? Do you not have enough?”

“No, my reserves are fine. Plenty of sleep and I ate only a few hours ago. It just takes a lot of concentration. Basic spells are like training a muscle, but this is more like juggling.” She shook her head. “I think I’m getting too frustrated to think straight.”

“Whenever I get that way, I go back to basics.”

Alendra raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize I was speaking to an expert in advanced spells.”

“Didn’t say I was.” Cal grinned. “But sometimes picking an easy lock gives you the confidence to pick a hard one.”

“Right. I’m sure that’s totally transferable to gravitic magic.” She rolled her eyes. “So, what, I should just lift some books?”

“You could, or you could teach me to.”

“Really? You want to try?”

“Yeah, why not? That light spell you showed me has come in handy already.”

“Okay, just the basics then. Nothing that’s Autumn Court specific.” She crossed over to the makeshift bed and sat down, gesturing for Cal to sit across from her. “You’ve been practicing the light spell?”

Cal thought back to the alley, to when she’d thrown her hands over Jasten’s eyes. She remembered his screams of pain and the light seeping through her fingers. “Yeah… I’d say I have that one down.”

“Good. We start with the same process. Energy from your body being put out into the world. Except, unlike light, gravity isn’t technically a force of energy.”

“It’s not?”

Alendra smiled, leaning forward.

“No. It’s a part of the universe and exists within all things, though we can’t see its effects in nature except for on a huge scale, like Apaernore itself.” She was speaking fast now. “But, everything attracts everything else. The books on the ground are constantly pulling on each other. The papers, this bed, the floorboards. There’s attraction between them.”

“What about you and me?”

Alendra nodded. “Definitely. People have gravity. And unlike light, for example, it’s constant. A lamp may run out of oil, but it will always be pulling on everything else.”

“So how come things don’t just slam into each other? And what about the sun? Or the moons? Why don’t they just fall into us?”

“That’s for a variety of reasons. I can explain some of it, and tell you some of it is Autumn Court secrets. But the part you should be concerned about is that gravity is weak and gets stronger the closer or more massive two things are. The celestial bodies are very, very far from us. Again, this is a simplification. So far, so good?”

A million questions swum in Cal’s head, and she wasn’t sure any of them had a good answer. Plus, it unsettled her to think that the sun was constantly pulling on Apaernore. “I’m just going to say yes so we can get to the fun part.”

Alendra laughed. “A good theoretical knowledge makes for a good working knowledge. But fine, we can move on to the fun part.” She grabbed a book off the floor and held it in her hands. “And while making things float is fun, antigravity is harder. The first thing to learn is how to amplify gravity in the natural direction. I’ll hold this book and I want you to try and make the book pull on the ground more.”

Cal frowned. “Not the other way around? Doesn’t the world pull the book?”

“Do you know how far it is from here to Tumaan?”

“What? I don’t even know where that is.”

“It’s halfway around the globe. And the answer is far. Very, very far. My point is that Apaernore is incredibly large. If you want to be the first mage to successfully bind the entire planet to do a basic spell, be my guest.” She cocked her head to the side and smiled. “If not, let’s stick with the book.”

Cal sighed. “Fine, let’s use the book, I guess.”

“Good. Like I said, gravity isn’t a force of energy. If two objects are drawn to one another, but cannot move closer, the object holds that as potential energy. When the object can move closer, their potential energy becomes kinetic energy. To increase the book’s gravitational pull, you have to pour energy into it. Just be careful, because I don’t want you setting this thing on fire. Last time, I said to focus on the heat of your palms, this time, focus on the weight.”

“Got it.” Cal held her hands out over the book, hovering inches above the leather cover. She concentrated on feeling the weight. The weight took on a new meaning with Alendra’s lecture on gravity. It wasn’t just a heaviness, it was a pulling sensation. Something tugging her extended arms down, and pulling up on the world itself. A desire for closeness.

She looked down at the book. She imagined pushing the weight she felt in her hands into the book.

At first, nothing happened. There wasn’t a light, like her first spell, and it was hard to see if anything was happening. Then, Alendra smile.

“I can feel it, the book seems heavier.”

“Really?” Cal said, her eyes snapped up, concentration broken.

“Yeah! That was it!” Alendra tossed the book aside and broke into a grin. “That was amazing!”

Cal laughed. “Well, I’ve got a good teacher.” She felt great, and not even the sudden wave of exhaustion following magic could bring her down.

“And I’ve got a good student.” She sat back, picking up the book again. “You know what? I think that helped. I’m gonna give the spell another go.” She stood up, arms towards the center of the room. The air became charged, and Cal felt the hair on the back of her neck stand upright. As Alendra concentrated, Cal felt herself being pushed backward toward the wall. She recognized the tug of gravity, but this was sideways.

She held her breath as the seconds passed and the sensation grew stronger. Soon, every item not nailed to the floor was pushed against the walls. Finally, Alendra lowered her arms and the spell ended.

“Oh my gods, I did it!” She turned and beamed at Cal. “It worked!”

“Now that was amazing,” Cal said as she stood. She was momentarily thrown off balance as Alendra wrapped her arms around her.

“Thanks, Cal.” As she pulled away, she looked around. “Oh… sorry about—”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. This place was a mess anyways.”

“If you’re sure.” She looked out the window. It was pitch black outside. “Shit, what time is it?”

“You think I can afford a clock?”

“Given your classes, it’d probably be easier for you to make one.” Alendra grinned. She stared out at the street and furrowed her brow. “I really don’t feel like making the hike back to my place.”

“Then crash here,” Cal said. “I don’t mind.”

“Thanks,” Alendra said, flopping down on the bed. She yawned and looked up as Cal sat down on the floor in front of her artificing book. “You not gonna sleep yet?”

“Not yet. I think I’m close to something.”

“Alright,” she turned over, “just don’t wear yourself out, okay?”

“Mmm,” Cal said, narrowing her eyes at the page. Something to defend yourself with, right? Cal would recommend not being stupid enough to get into the situation in the first place. That and know how to climb the walls in an alley.

But that wasn’t exactly something she could present to Teagan.

She’d scribbled half a dozen bad ideas on the page. Alendra would’ve been horrified at her treatment of the book. Using the mechanism from her jumping boots to make a punching gauntlet? There wasn’t a proper energy source, and it would do just as much damage to your arm as to the other person. Light had worked well against Jasten, but that was point-blank into his eyes. Flame… Cal wasn’t going to test a flame weapon in her wood room.

Cal’s mind wandered to the ring she’d first used to fake the entrance exam. Out of fear that someone would realize what it was, she’d stashed it under some shattered pottery on the balcony outside her room. She quietly slipped onto the porch and took out the ring.

Jewelry had never interested Cal beyond what value it had once fenced. The ring itself was rather plain, and if she didn’t know about the runes covering the inside loop, it wouldn’t even have been worth stealing if she saw it on the street. Now that she’d had artificing classes, she could actually pick out enough of the runes to know that this was more impressive than any mundane, gem-encrusted jewelry. What had the salesman called it? A gravitic-mitigation device?

Cal’s eyes widened. Runes for gravity! Her classes certainly hadn’t covered that! She hurried back inside, clutching the ring tightly. She flipped to another page in the book and started to trace out the runes on the ring. She was careful not to draw the links that would complete the enchantment.

The work was difficult. The runes on the ring must’ve been made using a magnifying glass, as they were almost impossible to pick out. By the time Cal had them all down, her eyes hurt. She stared down at the jumble of lines on the page. Some she knew, others she didn’t. It was easy enough to pick out the anchors, inputs, outputs, and even some triggers. She circled what she recognized, leaving only the unknown glyphs.

She gave only a moment’s thought to trying trial by error. The wrong circuit could set the room on fire, or explode, or something else even worse. With irritation, Cal realized her only choice was to do what she hated most.

She had to do it the “right” way.

So, grabbing her quill, she started to take notes, charting out what each part of the ring’s circuit did. There was the system to activate the ring’s power, as well as the signs for various fixed values, but the energy channeling didn’t make any sense. According to her drawings, the ring only used the heat of the wearer’s hand. That wasn’t nearly enough to create the weight-canceling effect. There was something going on here she didn’t get. At least not yet.

She moved on. This was clearly high-level artificing. As her head began to ache, she finally arrived at a rune that she knew had to represent gravity.

Using high-level magic was sure to earn marks in her favor, but what could she do with it? She started sketching concepts, but none of them stuck. She turned to a new page and started again. Still nothing.

Cal scowled, ripping the page from the book, balling up the paper, and tossing it away from her.

As it impacted softly across the room, she had an idea.

Systems worked on energy transference, right? Heat to light, light to sound, sound to kinetic. But these worked in both directions. If something could be made hot, it could be made cold. If something had kinetic energy pushing it in one direction, it could be made to move in the reverse direction. What about gravity?

Alendra has said that if two things were far apart, gravity was weak. The further apart they were, the weaker they were. If their energy was expressed as a number, like it could be in artificing runes, then it stood to reason that eventually, two things would be so far apart that their energy was essentially zero. So could they be less than zero?

Cal was making her own head hurt. She flipped to a new page in the book and started to draw in the margins.

First, she drew two circles. Objects. Because of gravity, these objects had potential energy, and if the objects moved toward each other, it transferred from potential to kinetic, didn’t it? She drew two arrows pointing at each other, each with the kinetic rune. So the potential energy due to gravity was transformed into movement, and the kinetic energy left the object when it could get no closer. Where’d it go? Well, into whatever it hit. Cal had fallen off enough roofs to know that tended to go badly for all involved.

But Alendra had also said gravity wasn’t a form of energy. If it wasn’t, then what was it? It was… a thing. A thing everything had. Just like weight, or shape, or color. It was a quality. A property.

Cal’s eyes snapped back to the ring. That’s why the energy transference hadn’t made sense! The ring didn’t use heat to lift objects; it used heat to power itself and used runes—runes Cal didn’t understand—to change the target object’s relationship to gravity!

Cal stared at her notes and frowned. They looked like the scribblings of a madman. But theoretically… it was sound.

Time to make it real. In one corner of the room, she’d started accumulating scraps of wood and metal, junk that she could practice with. She grabbed some pieces and scratched the runes in place. She didn’t know how late it was, but when she was finished, she felt pride. Sure, it was literally a piece of splintered wood covered in runes, but it might actually work!

In the end, she’d stolen a lot of the ring’s design. The body of the device she had made was a little like a crossbow, with a handle to hold and aim with. This is where she’d place a set of runes to collect heat from her hand while she held it. Next was the hard part. While the ring used fixed integer glyphs to lower an object’s gravity by a percentage, Cal had to make a system which reversed an object’s gravity. Not only that, but since gravity was so weak, she’d have to amplify the effect at the same time. She decided to give the weapon an equivalent effect to negative thirty times the planet’s gravity on a linked object. She fashioned a crude trigger that completed the circuit when pulled, activating the mechanism.

But now she had a weapon without any ammunition. She found a metal rod and scratched new runes into it, linking it to the gravity system.

When all was said and done, Cal’s hands were cramping and there was sweat on her brow. It was time to test. She loaded the rod, aimed at a wall, and pulled the trigger—

The rod shot out, lodging itself in the wall. At the same time, Cal was pushed back, knocking her to the ground. She cried out and Alendra jolted upright.

“What? What happened?” She said, raising her hands and preparing to cast a spell. She looked over at Cal, who was shrieking with laughter, then back at the wall where the rod had impacted. A spiderweb of cracks had formed around it. “Was that, uh, on purpose?”

“I didn’t think it would work!” Cal said, standing up. “Sure, I forgot to account for the effect it would have on the launcher itself, but that can be designed out.” She held up the device. “I reversed gravity!”

“Really?” Alendra blinked. A smile spread across her face. “That’s amazing!” Then, staring back at the rod, she frowned. “And then you used it to make a weapon?”

“Yeah!” She saw Alendra’s expression. “But don’t worry! It’s for class.”

“I know, it’s just…”

“What’s the problem?”

Alendra hesitated.

“What?” Cal asked again.

“Have… have you ever killed anyone?”

Cal cocked her head to the side. It seemed like an odd question. “A good thief doesn’t have to.”

“Is that a no?”

“I’m a good thief, aren’t I?”

“But could you do it?”

Cal thought for a moment. “Hard to say. I’ve never been in a position I couldn’t get out of before. But, I guess. If it came down to them or me, yeah, I think I could do it.”

“What about Renna?”

“I think she could too.”

“No, I mean, has she killed before?”

“I… no.”

“You don’t know, do you?”

“It’s been years since I’ve seen her. I don’t know what’s happened since then. Why?”

Cal saw the concern in Alendra’s eyes. “Like I said, she seems dangerous.”

“And as I said,” Cal said, scowling, “I’d be dead a dozen times over if it hadn’t been for her.”

“Okay, fine, forget I said anything.” She sighed. “Just promise me you’ll be careful, alright?”

“Don’t worry,” Cal held up her new weapon. “I’ve got this thing under control.”

Alendra turned back over in bed. “I wasn’t talking about that.”

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Cal 13

“What’s the matter, Kid? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Renna smiled. “Come here!” She spread her arms wide and embraced Cal. When they let go, Renna slapped her hard on the back. “I haven’t seen heads or tails of you since Kalros.”

“I… that’s it?” Cal frowned. “I left you for dead!”

“And?” There wasn’t a hint of malice in her tone. It was as though Cal had said she was hungry, or that it was going to be cloudy tomorrow. All she did was flash her beautiful smile, and it only made Cal angrier. Why was she the only one upset by this?

“You should be furious with me!”

Renna shrugged. “It was the right move.”

“But how did you survive?”

Renna’s smile morphed into a scowl. “Cuolè,” she spat the name. “The bastard decided I’d suffer more if they kept me alive. He let me take the fall for the heist while he made off with the goods. Spent a few years in prison before I finally broke out.” She looked up and smiled again. “But, I’m more interested in how you got here.”

“It’s a long story.”

Renna lifted her mug. “My favorite kind.” She took a long swig. “Let’s start at the beginning. How’d you make it out of Kalros?

“When I went over the side of the roof, I was still holding an amulet from the loot. I left the city and sold the thing. After that, I fell in with a Len caravan for a bit. Then worked my way up the coast. Moving on whenever options ran dry.”

“Resourceful.” She nodded approvingly. Cal suppressed a smile from the praise. “So how’d you end up here?”

She explained the whole story. How she’d come across the rich girl in the tavern, how she’d found her body and the acceptance letter. Renna’s eyes got wider and wider as she went.

“Let me get this straight—you’re a student here?” She laughed. “That’s the funniest shit I’ve ever heard!”

“Keep it down!” Cal hissed. “You want everyone else to hear you?”

“Wow, since when have you been so uptight?”

“Look,” she said, her eyes swiveling around the room, “can we go somewhere else? Somewhere private?”

Renna smiled. “Your place or mine?”

Cal decided that bringing Renna back to Sable & Burr’s would be too conspicuous. Instead, she let Renna lead her out of the Falls District. They weaved their way through town until they were in an area Cal had never been, but recognized instantly. It hung in the air, and you could see it on the faces of everyone who she passed in the street. Every city had a place like this; where only the poorest and most desperate lived.

“Where are we?” Cal asked.

“The Toscan District. Locals call it The Stacks,” Renna said. The name rang a bell. Cal heard students who couldn’t even afford the Day Court’s accommodations ended up here.

The buildings were precariously tall and packed close together. It felt like the only thing holding them upright was that they had nowhere left to fall. It seemed like the streets had been cobbled once, but had long since been worn down and churned into a thin mud. Occasionally, someone would curse under their breath as their foot caught upon a stone hidden in the muck.

Cal frowned. The school actually let such squalor exist in the city?

Renna noticed her expression and laughed. “What,” she said, “you haven’t spent so much time up in the clouds that you forgot what living was like, did you?”

“I’m just surprised that, considering how big this place is, you choose to live here.”

“It’s a good place to get lost. And no one asks questions.” She led Cal down an alley. “And if you know where to look, you can carve out a nice little hideout.”

They climbed a set of rotting wooden stairs and entered a small, abandoned courtyard. The plants had long ago died, choked of sunlight by the tall buildings surrounding them. In the center, there was a dry, graffiti-covered fountain.

“Well,” Cal said. “I wouldn’t call it your usual home, but I suppose you could do worse.”

“Please, Cal, have some faith. This isn’t my place.” She pointed upwards, at a gaping hole in the side of one of the buildings. The edge of the hole was black with soot, as the wall had been blown outward. “That’s my place.”

Cal grinned. “That’s more like it.”

“You still climb, don’t you?”

“Better than you.”

“Oh?” Renna said. She took off running. Cal chased after her. They reached the wall and began to climb. The disintegrating mortar and uneven brickwork made for quick progress, and Cal reached the lip of the hole mere seconds before Renna.

“Well Kid,” Renna said as she hauled herself up, “at least playing the rich girl part hasn’t dulled your abilities.”

Inside of the hole, it was obvious to Cal that whatever had destroyed the wall was definitely magical. Some experiment or spell gone wrong. Rubble lay strewn across the floor of the ruined apartment, and the door which would have led further into the building was boarded up.

“Not too shabby,” Cal said. “I’ve definitely seen worse.”

“Yeah, it’s real homey in here.” Renna dusted off her hands and looked up at Cal. “Now, spill. You’re an honest-to-god student?”

“Yeah, I’m enrolled in classes and everything!” Cal laughed.

“Is this for some sort of job? Can you cut me in?”

“No job. Not yet. But, when else was I gonna get this kind of opportunity? I mean, there’s gold everywhere in this city!”

“I hear that. I’m just glad you aren’t actually a mage.”

Cal frowned. “Why’s that?”

“Cal, you serious?” Renna narrowed her eyes. “Did you forget what a mage did to us? To me?”

“No, I—”

“Good. Because I haven’t.”

Cal wanted to say something. After all, Alendra and Rathana weren’t like that. But… perhaps it was safer to leave that unsaid. She decided to change topics.

“What about you? Working on any jobs?”

“Oh, I’ve got a couple things lined up. Just need to get a crew together.” She raised an eyebrow. “You want in?”

“Definitely!”

“Good,” Renna said, relaxing her shoulders. She smiled again. “Frankly, I wasn’t sure you would. I’ve gotten you mixed up in some pretty hairbrained schemes before.”

“I’d follow you anywhere, Renna, you know that.”

“I knew that when you were younger. Back then, I couldn’t have gotten rid of you back in the day. Honestly,” she laughed, “I would’ve sworn you had a crush on me or something!”

Cal tried not to blush. “Actually, I do— well, I used to.”

Renna smiled again. “Used to? What, I’m not good enough anymore?”

“Well, thinking I betrayed you and left you to die horribly sort of puts a damper on things.”

“You always did get hung up on little things.”

Cal looked up at the darkening sky. “Shit. I better get back.”

“Aw, but you just got here!”

“I, uh, have to do some studying.”

Renna stared at her for a moment, as though unsure if Cal was being serious. “You sure you’re not becoming one of them?”

“Hey, I gotta play the part, don’t I?”

“Whatever you say,” Renna said.

“Night, Renna.”

“Night, Kid.”

As Cal traced her way back to the Falls District, she couldn’t help but feel confused. She should be glad! After all, Renna was back. But, something about her was different… darker. It would’ve been naive to assume that she would’ve stayed the same after all these years, and she herself had learned a lot since Kalros. From the Len, the streets, other urchins, but there was something in Renna’s eyes whenever mages got brought up. Like a wolf ready to strike. And she hadn’t said anything about what she’d done since she’d escape prison. Had she been hiding something?

Cal shook her head. This was Renna! She’d been with Cal through thick and thin. Whatever had happened, it didn’t change anything. Now that she was back in Cal’s life, things could only go up.

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Cal 12

Years ago…

It was just after dawn in the city of Kalros, and the heat was already enough to bake the rotting trash that filled the streets. The putrid smell on top of the sweltering humidity was normally enough to keep people inside til sunset, when the city cooled to a manageable warmth.

But today was not a normal day. Today, from every corner of the city there were bells and shouts as parades shuffled their way up and down the many stairs of the city of a million steps. Ribbons, bright bits of paper, and brilliant explosions of dyed powder filled the air, creating a storm of color that rained down upon the crowd. Thousands of voices mixed with every sort of instrument, combining their sounds into a cacophonous and constant song that echoed across the hilly cityscape.

High above, from the rooftop of a public bath, Cal watched the sea of bodies. The thought of being pressed in the throng made her feel claustrophobic. But, a part of her, the hungry street-rat, saw all the unguarded pockets to pick.

The only reason she wasn’t down there was because Renna had told her to come here. She said she had something big. Something better than anything she’d ever seen. Cal had never seen Renna so excited.

She heard someone land softly on the roof. She looked over her shoulder and saw a girl a few years older than her. She had sharp eyes and a wicked grin, with brown hair so dark, it was almost black. She was wearing loose linen robes lashed at the wrists and ankles with leather cording to keep it out of her way.

“Watching the party, Kid?” Renna said, squatting down next to her. “It’s quite a racket.”

“What are they celebrating?”

“It’s the Day of Martyrs. Biggest day of the year for the Ankari Church. They’ll be singing and drinking till well after sundown, even the priests.” She pointed to a pair of men in pressed white robes, already red-faced and drunk. “And since they’re all here, guess where they aren’t?”

“The temple!” Cal smiled. “That’s the job? We’re robbing the church, cause they’re all out?”

“Got it in one, Kid.” Renna winked. Cal beamed. “Come on, lemme introduce you to the crew.”

“Why can’t it just be you and me? We do fine on our own.”

“Not on something this big. We need the help to do it right.”

Cal frowned. “Can we trust them?”

“Of course not. But you trust me, right?” 

“Well, if you say so.”

“I do. Now let’s go.” She stood and took a running jump to the next rooftop.

Cal leapt up and followed the older girl. Her feet clattered across the clay tiles as she sprinted to keep Renna’s pace. She knew from experience that the older thief wouldn’t wait for her if she fell behind. Cal smiled as she ran, knowing that the revelers on the street below were completely unaware of the chase occurring above them.

Finally, breathless and sweaty, Cal caught up to her. Renna stood with her hands on her hips on the roof of a cafe.

“Thought I might’ve lost you there,” she said. “You’re getting faster.”

“Or you’re getting slower.”

“Not a chance.” She gestured at a group of three men. “These are the guys.” There was one old, one skinny, and one fat. “Cuolè, Shab, and Jau.”

“There ain’t much to her, is there?” Said the fat man, eying her.

“Well, there’s more than enough of you, isn’t there?” Cal shot back.

“She’s got bark!” The man chortled. “But we’ll see if she’s got bite.”

“Shut it, Jau.” Renna said, dropping her usual smile. “I said I’d vouch for her. And she might not have much muscle, but she’s slippery. Besides, I don’t imagine you’ll fit through the bars.”

“Hey, take a joke, will ya?”

“Can we get to business, please?” The old man said.

“Lets.” Renna said. She turned and her smile was back. She swept her arms out to the crew theatrically. “Gentlemen—and Cal—Today, we are robbing the Ankari Grand Temple. On our own, an impossible task, but together, only quite difficult. Now according to our info, we know that the best stuff is kept in a central chamber at the heart of the temple. To get there, we need to distract the guards, cross the rooftop, pick some locks, and get out the way we came without being seen. Sound good?”

“How can we trust this information?” Jau asked. “What’s your source?”

“One of the church’s own priests.”

“Horseshit!” The skinny man said. His pockmarked skin was covered in messy tattoos. “No way one of them would spill their guts. Where’s your proof?”

“You’re up, Cuolè.”

“Right,” the old man said, stepping forward. “I am the priest.” He rolled up his long sleeves to reveal the sacred brands signifying him as a third-rank priest of the Ankari Church.

“And you have no problem with us robbing your temple?”

Cuolè’s face scrunched up in disgust. “It’s not my temple. It belongs to heretics!”

“Our friend here is from another part of the church,” Renna said. “What was it again? A little disagreement over a mistranslation?”

“The Great Schism was hardly a ‘little disagreement,’ you impudent child!” Cuolè spat. “These disagreements go back generations—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Still don’t care. Anyway, Cuolè here was able to slip into the temple and scout the place out, even the parts the public can’t access. His intel is legit.”

“But, we’re stealing relics, right?” Jau asked. “Isn’t that a problem for you?”

Cuolè sniffed. “Yes. But, I was promised that my pick of the spoils, which I will return to a temple of the true faith. I’d rather the rest end up in the hands of you gutter-trash than remain with the heretics.”

“Good enough for you, Shab?” Renna asked. The skinny man spat on the ground, and nodded. “Great. Cuolè’s already done his part, so the rest is up to us. Jau will go down to street level and cause a commotion at the front of the temple. With so many drunks out, a brawl wouldn’t be unusual. That should draw the attention of the guards long enough for Cal, Shab, and me to get across to the temple. Shab is our lockpicker, so he’ll handle any doors we can’t get through. If there’s anyone inside, I’ll deal with them.”

“And what about her” Shab pointed a bony finger at Cal. “If she gets a cut, she better earn it.”

“The relics are kept in a room deep in the temple, where the public can’t get to them. The room is permanently sealed by iron bars, and the only way in is between them. We don’t have time to cut the bars and Cal here, as you can see, is about as thick as a blade of grass. So she’ll be the one to get the relics out of the room.”

Cal’s heart skipped a beat. This was big. Bigger than anything she’d done before. Did Renna really trust her that much? She was only fourteen, and she could fleece pockets, clip coins, and outrun any guard in the city, but this seemed different.

“Right. Any questions?”

“What about magic?” Shab said. “We don’t got no way past that.”

“The heretics view magic as an abomination,” Cuolè said, “so they rely solely upon conventional defenses.”

“Give me some credit here, Shab,” Renna said, smiling. “I’ve got this thing figured out.” She turned to the others. “No other questions? Alright, let’s go!”

As the crew split up to get ready, Cal went over to the older girl. Renna noticed her concerned look.

“Nervous? Don’t be.”

“But what if we come across someone inside the temple?”

“I’ll take care of them.”

“You’re gonna kill them?”

“No. Remember, a good thief doesn’t have to kill.”

“Okay. If you’re sure.”

“I’m always sure, Kid. Trust me, by day’s end, we’ll finally be out of this stinking city, sipping fine wine on a boat on the way to a beach somewhere exotic.” She winked. “I was thinking Hrovati. Sound good to you?” Cal smiled and gave her a nod. “Good, then let’s get to that temple. We’ll meet Shab there.”

They made their way across the city, scaling walls and jumping over the narrow chasms between buildings, the crowd flowing like a slow river beneath them. Soon, they were staring at a building so big and ostentatious, it could only be a church.

The Grand Temple was a pentagonal building, with tall minarets that seemed to scrape the clouds themselves. The walls at street-level were brown and dirty from the hands of thousands of pilgrims, but as they rose, the bricks glittered gold in the sunlight. Shab stepped out of the shadows.

“Jau’s down there,” he said.

Down on the street, Cal could barely make out the large man pushing his way through the crowd. When he made it to the edge closest to the gates of the temple, he looked up and smiled at Renna. She gave him a nod and the big man decked the closest reveler, then the next. He turned and punched someone else. Soon, the whole street was engulfed in a massive shoving match. The temple guards on the walls above left their posts, running down to break up the fighting.

“That was quick,” Renna said. “We’re up.” She ran across the roof until she reached a string of flags that ran from the building to one of the minarets. She grabbed hold, swinging her feet up and onto the line. Then, hand over hand, pulled herself over. Cal followed her movements, albeit somewhat clumsier. Shab was third, crawling like a spider until he reached them. They landed on top of the high wall, next to one of the minarets.

“We’ve got a lock here,” Renna gestured to the tower door.

“On it,” he said. He knelt down and pulled out small metal tools. Within a few seconds, there was a click and the door swung open. They slipped through and into the temple.

Inside, it was blissfully cool. The floor, walls, and ceiling were covered in beautiful colored tiles, repeating in swirling geometric patterns. Small fountains were recessed in the walls, burbling water and sending droplets splattering across the ground.

“We go straight here,” Renna said, guiding them. She took the lead and jogged down the hall. Cal and Shab followed as she then went left, then right, then down a flight of stairs. Along the way, Shab had to get through two more doors. Soon, Cal was all twisted around. But Renna was as confident as ever. Eventually, they came to a stop in front of a barred archway. Beyond, Cal saw a room full of glittering objects.

“This is it,” Renna said, turning to her. “You’re up, Kid.”

Cal stepped forward and put her hand on one of the cold metal bars. She turned herself sideways and pushed herself through, breathing out to make herself as thin as she could. With a final squeeze, she popped out the other side.

She looked around the room. It was small, and pentagonal like the temple itself. Shelves lined the walls, Displaying a trove of useless looking baubles covered in a thick layer of dust. Gold boxes holding bits of burnt wood, a row of gem-encrusted crowns, and so much more.

“Pass through anything that shines,” Renna said, pulling out a burlap sack. “Hurry!”

Cal grabbed everything she could, passing through jewels and gold holy symbols, fine silk robes and strings of pearls. Anything of any value was handed over and stuffed in the bag.

“Alright, that’s all we can get! Let’s move!” Cal squeezed back through and Renna led them back up through the maze of corridors until they were back on the roof. On the street below, the temple guards were beating back the crowd with leather cudgels.

“Is Jau gonna be okay?” Cal asked.

“If he’s smart, yeah. Let’s go!”

They scurried back across the rope and landed on the other side. From there, it was simple enough to get back to where they’d started, the sack of treasures as it clattered and jangled against Renna’s back as she ran.

When they made it back, they were greeted by Cuolè and Jau, who was sporting a black eye and a grin missing two front teeth.

“Are we happy?” Jau asked.

“Oh, we’re happy,” Renna said. She tilted the bag out onto the roof. Jewels and gold shone fiercely in the sunlight.

Cal whistled as she reached down and picked up an amulet. “This is pretty!”

“Hey, just remember, I promised Cuolè first dibs.” She turned to the priest. “Well, what’ll it be?”

Cuolè hummed to himself as he picked through the pile, nodding approvingly. 

“I just can’t decide,” he finally said. Then he looked up with a vicious grin. “I think I’ll take them all.”

“That wasn’t the deal,” Renna said, hand on the hilt of her knife.

“The deal’s changed!” Cuolè snapped his fingers and something hit Cal in the side. The force pushed her off her feet and carried her to the edge of the roof. Cal slid over the edge, and just barely grabbed the lip of the roof. She struggled to pull herself up as a dark figure emerged from behind a tall chimney, arms outstretched.

“Cal!” Renna shouted. Jau roared and charged, but the figure twitched a hand and the man was pulled up into the air. With his other hand, the figure made a gesture, and Jau’s battlecry turned into a scream of pain. He clawed at his chest, which was beginning to smoke and sizzle. The smell of burning flesh filled the air as Shab pulled out a dagger and threw it at Cuolè. It too stopped in midair with a gesture from the figure.

“Get up, Kid!” Renna said. Cal tried to pull herself up, but she couldn’t. Her arms shook and refused to work. She watched in terror as Shab’s knife reversed course, spun, and lodged itself between the lockpicker’s eyes. Cuolè cackled madly as he scooped up the bag.

“Stop dallying and finish them off!” He looked over at Cal, his eyes hard and flat. “The little one too.”

In that moment, Cal’s arms finally gave out. Her hands let go of the ledge and she fell. Her fall was broken by an awning, which she rolled off of and then onto people on the street below. She pushed herself off the ground and then shoved through the crowd, tears streaming from her eyes. She bounced off the bodies of the parading priests and stumbled from street to street, trying to put as much distance between her and the rooftop as possible.

She didn’t stop until she’d reached the outskirts of the city. Her legs gave out as she fell into a pile of trash piled in an alleyway, her arms bruised and scratched from shielding herself as she was bumped and jostled by the crowd.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled to herself. “I’m sorry, Renna. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” She looked down at her hand and saw the little amulet she’d taken from the bag. It was all that was left of the haul. She’d need to fence it and use the money to get as far from here as possible.

The guilt of leaving Renna flooded Cal. But she knew there was no point in going back. That man was a mage. There was nothing she could do. Even if she did go back, there was no way Renna was still alive. Her friend was dead.

Cal wiped her tears. What would Renna tell her to do? Keep moving, of course. She stood up, forcing her legs to work as she took a shaky step, then another. That was how she’d make it. She’d keep moving forward.

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Cal 11

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I want to give my thanks to one of our patreon subscribers for asking if Cal had a physical description yet. Looking through my chapters, I realized that the only one is a brief description in the Alendra Interlude chapter. With that in mind, I’ve added one to this chapter as well. Thanks again!

~~~                    ~~~                        ~~~                        ~~~

To be fair, Jasten seemed just as surprised to see Cal in the store as she was to see him.

“Ah, Lady Callion,” he said, presenting her with a flourishing bow. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Nor I you, Lord Jasten,” Cal said, smiling through gritted teeth and curtsying.

“What brings you to this part of town.”

“Shopping around for clothes.”

“I see. And… is your current selection a new item, my lady?”

 She looked down at her outfit and cursed silently. She was in her thieving clothes. Dark cloth, padded leather boots, a small knife on her hip, and all of it covered in dust and mud from her recent escapade. None of it was very ladylike.

“Oh, this? No! Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t be caught dead in such rags, but this isn’t a friendly part of town after all. I believe you yourself had an unfortunate run-in with a brigand, did you not, my lord?

“Ah yes, that business. There were several of them, actually. I nearly had them, but I was ambushed from behind. Lucky for them, or I’d have their hides!”

“I’m sure,” Cal said coolly. “Have you recovered from your injuries yet?”

“There is some lingering pain,” Jasten said.

Good, Cal thought.

“But nothing I can’t handle.”

“So, what brings you here?” She asked.

He looked past her to Sable. “I, uh, have come to pick up an item.”

“Oh? What’s that?” She smiled sweetly.

“It’s… I, ah—”

“Buttons,” Sable offered, holding up a small envelope. He must’ve put the ticket in there while she’d been talking to the noble nitwit.

“Right! Buttons for my suit.” He reached for the envelope and Sable pulled it away.

“First, let’s discuss payment,” he said. He set a scale on the counter and began putting weights onto one of the two dishes. He set small led weights down one at a time, each one landing in the dish with a small, dull clink. The dish sank lower and lower, until it touched the counter.

Then he added a few more.

There was only the slightest crack in the mask of Jasten’s face as he watched. He turned to Cal. “I didn’t mean to hold you, my lady. I’m sure you have somewhere else to be?”

“I’m still looking around,” Cal said, “please, ignore my presence.”

“Ah, of course.” He turned back to the counter as Sable finally stopped. “Oh, come now, you can’t be serious!” He gave Cal a glance through the corner of his eye, then slicked back his hair and spoke again. “Surely, there must be some mistake here—”

“They are excellent buttons, m’lord.” Sable said with a smile. “Very rare, and acquired with great speed and at no small effort.” His smile disappeared. “But, if you are no longer interested—”

“No! Damn it all.” Jasten reached into his pocket and pulled out a bar of gold the size of his hand. He put the whole thing onto the scale and, very slowly, the weight began to measure out. “There, are we even?”

“Just a moment,” Sable got down on one knee, eyes level with the scale as it see-sawed back and forth. “It has to settle.”

“Goodness, Jasten, those must be some beautiful buttons to be worth so much. I would love to see them—”

“No!” He snapped. Then he froze and composed himself. “Ah, I can’t right now, my lady. But perhaps I could show you over drinks later?”

“Sorry, my lord, but my schedule is full up at the moment. You know how it is, I’m sure.”

He nodded. “That I do. Perhaps another time then.”

“Perhaps.”

“Now, are we even?” He shot a glare at Sable.

“It appears you’ve given me just a little to much, it you can shave down the bar—”

“I don’t have time, just take the damn thing!” He snarled, snatching the envelope from the counter and turning to leave. He paused at the door and gave Cal a brief bow before ducking out.

Cal counted to five before bursting out in laughter. Sable gave her a chiding look, but beneath it she saw him smiling too.

“Lady Callion?” He asked. “Oh dear, what have you gotten yourself into?”

“Something profitable, I hope,” she replied

“And you know that… miserable little man?”

“You have the honor of knowing Lord Jasten Forthale, son of Count Who-Gives-A-Shit. A classmate of mine.”

“They just let anyone into Istima nowadays, then?”

“As long as they’ve got money.”

“So it seems,” Sable said, grunting as he lifted the brick of gold. “A job well done, my dear. He took a small knife and shaved off a small portion. “Your cut, as promised.”

Cal looked at it. Compared to the brick, it seemed minuscule. “That’s it?”

“Minus rent, of course. Thirty drams this time.”

She sighed and grabbed the meager shavings, scooping them into a bottle with the rest of her money. Before she got here, it would’ve seemed like a fortune. In Istima, it was worth a few weeks of food and drink. It jangled against the glass as she shook it. She’d have to stuff some cotton in there to keep it from making noise while she worked. But that was a problem for another time. Right now, she needed a drink.

But first she went upstairs. Her bathroom had only a small, cracked mirror, but it was more than she was used to. It was surprising, Cal thought, how well she was able to pull off the look of a nobleman’s daughter. All her life, she’d done the best she could to avoid drawing attention to herself. Yet recently, she’d found it necessary to do just that in her newfound role. Her face was thin and angular, with large, chestnut eyes and thick, dark hair — in the right light the features certainly looked noble, perhaps even regal. She knew she should’ve cleaned up and made herself into a presentable young lady, but she was too tired and the bar was calling. Instead, she settled for wiping off her face and getting the straw off the bottoms of her boots.

When she’d finished, she headed over to Madam Horatia’s Boarding House for Young Ladies, where Alendra’s room was. The place sounded like a prison.

When she got there, she found a stern-looking woman—Madam Horatia, presumably. She was squat, had a face like brick, and was sweeping hard enough to scratch the floorboards.

“If you’re looking for a room, we’re full up. Better luck next year.”

“No, I’m looking for someone. A friend who lives here.”

The woman looked up from her broom. “Is that so?”

“Her name’s Alendra Kaestellus. She just started renting—”

“She’s not in at the moment.” The woman went back to sweeping, as though that this was a sufficient place to end the conversation.

“How can you be so sure?” Cal frowned. “Can’t I at least go check?”

“I keep close eyes on my girls. And even if she were here, I wouldn’t allow you up.”

“Why?”

Madam Horatia scowled. “Because this is a respectable house, young miss! And I won’t have you trampling your filth in here!”

Cal fought back the urge to deck the red-faced hag. If she’d shown up in Callion’s clothes, she probably would’ve been welcomed with open arms. But in her current state, she was looked at like a stray found in the gutter. But she didn’t need to attract that sort of attention, especially not here. If this place was good enough for Alendra’s parents, who knows who else might be here? So she swallowed her pride and headed back out into the dim light of the setting sun.

With nowhere else to go, Cal wandered back to the Falls District. She didn’t know where Rathana was staying, otherwise she might try and find him and go back to that Aketsi place he’d shown her—the one with the good food. As it stood, she settled for the first bar she could find. In a city like this, it didn’t take long. Practically every other building sold some sort of booze.

The place she found was called ‘The Golden Goose,’ and was the dingiest, most rundown establishment Cal had ever seen. It must’ve been nearby to a tannery, because the smell was enough to make her gag. Fortunately, the bar was located in a basement, which blocked some of the odor. There were windows near the ceiling that peeked out at the street, providing an excellent view of everyone’s ankles as they passed by on the search for somewhere better. Cal descended the uneven stone steps and pushed open the door.

The inside of the Golden Goose wasn’t better. Small, jaundice-yellow candles flickered and trailed oily, black smoke into the air. It was hard to see, but what Cal could see wasn’t good looking. The clientele was made up entirely out of people who could be found in dark alleys late at night. Everyone was missing teeth, eyes, fingers, or some combination of the three.

Cal approached the bar and a grizzled-looking old man came up.

“Drink,” she said, pulling out one of the larger shavings of gold. “However much this’ll get.”

The man snatched the shaving and bit it. He nodded and set a wooden tankard of dark, lukewarm ale in front of her.

It tasted like ashes and week-old bread. She drank about half of it before setting it back down on the bar which, for reasons she couldn’t understand, was very sticky.

She smiled.

She’d never had a home, but just about every town she’d been run out of had a place like this. It wasn’t good, or wholesome, or honest, but it was reliable and straightforward. Hell, for old time’s sake, she could hustle a game or two of cards or darts—

“Now what is a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?”

Cal scowled, placing a hand on the hilt of her knife and turning to look at whoever had spoken. But she froze when she saw a face she knew. A face she hadn’t seen in a very long time. The face of someone she’d left for dead.

“Hello again, Kid.” She said with a vicious smile. “Buy me a drink?”

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Cal 10

In any other city, an establishment like The Tooth and Claw would’ve been found in some scummy alley, guarded by two enormous thugs with necks like tree trunks. But in Istima, things were a little different. There was a street entrance where two Aketsi were checking tickets. The door was framed by marble columns and a sign reading “The Tooth and Claw” hung overhead, glowing with magical light.  Burr was right, the only rule here was “don’t get caught,” and the owners of the club had clearly realized that the easiest way to do that was simply to pay off the guards.

But Cal couldn’t just stroll through the front entrance. So she waited and watched. It didn’t take long to observe that there was more than one way in. Those who went through the front all had something in common—they screamed wealth. Dresses and gowns, gems sparkling on their necks and in their hair. If she had the time, Cal could’ve gotten Callion’s dress and done her hair to pass as one of the patrons, but she still wouldn’t have a ticket.

Fortunately, a place like this would need another entrance. Once that would allow the riff-raff to enter without sullying the view for the blue-bloods. Cal found that entrance on the side of the building, down a flight of stairs. There were Aketsi standing at this entrance too, but they didn’t notice her slip past in the crowd. She made her way inside, and was hit by the smell of stale beer and body odor.

The place was massive, three rings of balconies looked down upon a ring of sand thirty feet wide. Inside the pit were workers, raking sand over several pools of fresh blood. On the first floor, it was standing room only, with a bar on one wall and some sort of stall for taking bets on the other. Peering up to the second floor, Cal saw rows of wooden benches; and on the third, seats so elaborate they might as well have been called thrones.

She brought her attention back to the first floor. There was a crush of bodies standing at the railing of the arena, as well as a crowd around the bar and the betting booth. Humans, Aketsi, even some Saakarans. There were only a few Len, and most of those that she saw were working behind the counter. But this was just one floor.

As Cal looked for a way up to the second balcony, she spotted something that gave her pause. It was a lone Len, who despite his best efforts, looked incredibly out of place. There was a certain aura you had to put off in these sorts of places. You had to act like you belonged here, like you’d always been here, and that if anyone tried to question you about it that they’d end up hurt. Cal could fake it pretty well, but it was obvious this Len couldn’t.

It was also pretty clear that he was the one who had treated her hands only the day before. He had the same skinny body, same wolf-like face, and even the same travel worn clothes.

As the next fight was announced, Cal watched him try to shuffle his way towards the railing. He was boxed out by the crowd, and had to contend with standing behind them and craning his neck.

“Laaaaadies and gentlemeeeen,” a voice called out. Whoever was speaking was using magic to project their voice, but Cal looked up and saw a man on the third balcony in robes of purple trimmed in gold. “You’ve had a snack, but who’s ready for the main course?” He spread his arms wide.

The crowd roared.

“In one corner, from way down south, hailing from the swamps of Aketsan, we’ve got a stinging stygiopede!” A heavy iron gate was lifted on one side of the area, and a long, flat, bug-like creature came crawling out. It was at least four feet long, and covered in shiny, black plates. It twitched its antennae and flexed a set of horribly sharp serrated mandibles.

“And in the other corner, a hometown hero, from the forest floor beneath the city itself, the fearsome karagor!” The second gate was lifted to reveal a hideous thing of fur and claws, its face a writhing mass of fleshy tendrils. Even from this distance, Cal could see its ribs poking out along its belly. It let out a howl and the audience went wild.

The handlers prodded their animals toward the center of the ring. When they came close enough, they seemed to notice each other and began to circle. In a flash, they set upon one another. The stygiopede slashing with black claws and the karagor rising up on its hind legs to try and pin its opponent down.

The fight was evenly matched. The stygiopede couldn’t easily pierce the matted fur of the karagor, and the karagor couldn’t easily crack the hard shell of the stygiopede. They grappled and broke off, circling again. All the while, the crowd jeered and screamed. Cal never did get blood sports. And not just because gambling was a waste of hard-stolen money either.

She looked over at the Len and saw that he was entranced, but not like the rest of the crowd. While everyone else was hungry for violence, the Len appeared to be… studying the animals. Cal also saw what looked like horror on his face. He winced each time the animals attacked.

“And there it is!” The announcer shouted. Cal turned back and saw that the karagor had managed to find a gap in the massive bug’s armor. It sunk its teeth in, releasing a disgusting spray of green fluid. The stygiopede squirmed and struggled, but it was over. “We have a winner!”

The crowd began to split; half heading to the betting booth to collect their winnings, and half heading to the bar to drown their losses. The Len took this moment to head for a side door. Cal followed him.

Past the door, the noise of the arena died down, echoing softly through the rough stone hallways. Cal stayed back, tailing the Len as he headed deeper in. It was clear he didn’t know where he was going, but he was looking for something. Occasionally, he’d peer down passages or into rooms before continuing on. Eventually, he seemed to find what he was looking for. He headed inside a room and Cal ducked in after him.

Inside were row after row of cages. Some were empty, but most held some manner of strange beast. The cages were spaced so that none of them could attack each other, or whoever was walking between them. Still, Cal saw spots of blood and claw marks on the floor.

The Len looked around, as though he was at a market. He’d pause occasionally, observing an animal before shaking his head and continuing. Eventually, he stopped in front of one long enough that Cal decided to make her move.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” she said. The Len jumped, wheeling around to face her and raising his hands in some sort of vaguely defensive stance.

“I can expla—” he stopped, peering at her in the dim light. “Wait, it’s you! The one with the hands!”

Cal raised an eyebrow and looked at her palms. “Guilty.”

“What’re you doing here? Do you work at the arena?”

Cal laughed. “No. But I am working at the moment. I was hired to track down a stolen ticket… Know anything about that?”

“I know about lots of things,” the Len said reproachfully.

“Oh, cut it out! Just answer the stupid question.”

“I have a ticket, and I may have gotten it from someone.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Cal sighed. “Look, just hand it over and I’ll go away.”

“No!” The Len said. “I need it to come back.”

“Well I’m not leaving without it.”

From somewhere near the front of the room, above the noises of the animals, Cal heard footsteps. The Len heard it too. Cal looked around, but saw no other exit.

“Who’s there?” Said the approaching stranger. “I know someone’s in here!”

Cal ducked down. She turned to bring the Len down to hide with her but noted with approval that he had already joined her behind one of the empty cages.

“What’re we going to do?” The Len whispered.

“Oh, it’s we now, is it?” Cal shot back. “I don’t know about you, but I’m perfectly capable of making it out of here on my own.”

“Then you won’t get the ticket.”

Cal cursed under her breath. He had a point. And she couldn’t go back empty-handed.

“Fine. But you’re not off the hook.” The footsteps were getting louder now. They didn’t have much time. She looked around. Most of the cages in this area were empty. Not that releasing anything kept down here was a particularly good idea. Then she saw the cage nearest to them was not only empty, but the gate was open. The footsteps were nearly upon them. “Alright, I’ve got an idea.” She looked at the wide-eyed Len. “The security in this place isn’t great. And operations like this can’t have dead ends, in case the owners need to get out in a hurry. We have a chance of getting out of here if you follow my lead.”

“Okay, what do I do?”

“This.”

Cal shoved the Len out into the open.

“Hey!” A voice said. “Who the hell are you? How’d you get down here?”

“I… uh, er, that is—”

“Shut up!” The man said, drawing a knife. “Now, you’re coming with—”

Cal stepped up behind the man. She gave him a kick to the back of his knees and he folded over, dropping his torch. Unable to see her, it was easy for Cal to then shove the crumpled man into the open cage and shut the latch.

“Come on!” She grabbed the Len’s hand and ran, dragging him along.

“Wait! I came here for a creature!”

“No time!”  She pulled him through the door. There were more voices down the hall from where they had come. The only choice was to head further in. They ran down the corridor, away from the noise. The tunnel ended at a winding staircase. She followed it up, hoping this was some back way to the surface. 

“I need a familiar,” the Len sulked. She ignored him and kept climbing. After a few more flights, Cal tried one of the doors. Inside was a small, round room filled with small cages.

“If it’ll shut you up, take one of these.”

“But they’re so small!”

“Yeah… but they’re harder for anyone to reach, so maybe they’re more dangerous? Or more valuable?”

The Len cocked his head.

“Come on, come on!” She growled. “Make up your mind!”

“Okay!” He made a quick turn around the room. He lingered upon one cage, examining the creature within, then moved on to another. He pulled one out and looked inside. “It’s so hard to choose. Fate help me, it has so many fangs”

Cal heard shouts from down below. A group of people were charging up the stairs.

“That’s the one!” Cal said, pulling him out of the room. Together, cage tucked under his arm. they headed up further. The stairs terminated in a large wooden door. Cal burst through it and found herself on the top balcony.

The room was filled with well-dressed patrons sitting in the elaborate thrones. With her dark leathers and the Len’s rumpled clothes, they looked extremely out of place. Fortunately, another fight was taking place, and no one paid them any attention.

“Come on,” she hissed as they made theirway past the seats.

“Excuse me!” A voice called out. Cal looked and saw an elderly woman. She was wearing a rather large green dress and a thick layer of white makeup. “Do you work here?”

“We don’t—” Cal kicked the Len in the shins.

“I order my drink five minutes ago, and it still isn’t here. Won’t you be dears and take care of that?”

“Absolutely, ma’am,” Cal said, curtsying slightly.

“Good.” The woman turned back to the match.

Cal breathed out in relief and looked around. They must’ve come through a service entrance. The large entrance she’d first seen on her way in must be around here somewhere. She spotted it on the far side of the balcony. She nudged the young Len and pointed. He nodded, clutching the cage to his chest.

With the match going, people barely noticed as they made their way over. Soon, they were through the entrance. The guards didn’t give them much notice. After all, they were paid to keep people out, not in. After a few blocks, Cal pulled the Len into an alley.

“There!” She sighed.. “That was easy.”

The Len looked like he wanted to double over, but he didn’t refused to set down the cage in his hands. The burlap covering inside the wooden frame kept her from seeing what sort of creature, if any, was inside.

“What was your name again? Tum? Past?”

“Yam Hist of the Ken Seekers.”

“Great. I’ll try and remember that.”

“I am in your debt. If you want the ticket, it’s yours.”

“Well, about that,” Cal reached into her pocket and fished out the ticket. “I already have it. Guess you’ll just have to owe me.”

“Thief!” Yam hissed.

“Oh, please! I just happen to be better at it than you.” She pocketed the ticket. “Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll need patching up sooner or later. Then we’ll be even. Besides, you got what you came for.”

“I suppose so.” He clutched the cage tightly. “Will you tell me your name?”

“Cal.”

“Of?”

“Nobody. Just Cal.”

“I see.” Yam frowned.

“Great. Well, try not to get in any more trouble.” She nodded and walked off in the direction of the Falls District.

As she left, Cal shook her head. Why had she even helped him? That wasn’t part of the job, after all. She could’ve taken the ticket and ran. The guards would’ve been so preoccupied with him that they wouldn’t have even noticed her slipping out.

Maybe she’d gotten soft. Or maybe Istima was already so cutthroat that it felt wrong to leave someone so clearly out of their element alone in there. Whatever it was, it wasn’t something she would’ve done even a month ago.

It took her the better part of an hour to get back to Sable and Burr’s. She took it slow, her legs hurt from sprinting up all those stairs. She also routinely doubled back to make sure she wasn’t followed. Finally, she made it to the front door. Sable and Burr were waiting inside.

“Ah, welcome back, darling,” Sable said, looking up from a half-finished tunic. “I trust you had a good evening?”

“Good? I wouldn’t say that. Successful, though.” She handed him the ticket.

“That will have to do I suppose.” A bell chimed, striking the hour. “And just in time. Our client should be here shortly.”

No sooner had he spoken then the door opened. Cal turned and went pale as she saw Jasten walk in.

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Cal 9

Anger propelled Cal across the ancient stones of the Summer Court. Her legs protested, she’d come all the way up from the Fall’s District without a break and a thin sheen of sweat covered her brow, but she didn’t care. She slammed open the door to the professor’s wing, startling a student carrying a bundle of scrolls, causing them to fall all over the floor.

She made her way to Teagan’s door and reached for the handle, then paused. Even in a rage, the cautious street-dweller in her came through above the noise. What were the chances someone like Teagan would trap their door against intruders?

Cal took a deep breath and pounded a fist against the door with a solid, oaken thud.

After a minute, she heard footsteps. The door opened to reveal Teagan.

“It’s the weekend, Callion,” she said. “Don’t you have some expensive wine to be drinking?”

“We need to talk.”

“I have no need to talk. But, judging from your appearance, you need to talk to me.” She opened the door wider and walked back to her desk. “Come in then.”

Cal stepped inside. She wasn’t sure if magic was affecting the dimensions of the space, but the room was more spacious then she would’ve guessed.

In the center of the room was Teagan’s rather impressive desk. The thing was eight feet wide and four feet deep and made of dark wood and wrought iron. It looked as though it had been through battle; covered in burn marks and deep gouges in the polished surface. Various half-finished projects were strewn across the wide expanse of wood.

Behind Teagan was a large window, with an impressive view of the city below. Bookshelves lined the rest of the walls, overflowing with musty tomes and yellowed scrolls.

“Now,” Teagan said, picking up a small metal cube on her desk. what is it you so desperately needed to talk to me about?”

“The project I won,” Cal said. “I asked for it back and you wouldn’t give it to me.”

“I hope you didn’t come all this way to ask me if I had changed my mind.”

“No. Especially since I saw that my boots were on sale in the market.”

“Indeed,” Teagan nodded. “Was there anything else?” 

Cal scowled. “That’s all you have to say?”

“What were you hoping for? A formal apology? My expulsion from university grounds? You’ll get neither.” She picked up a stylus and began carving a rune into the metal with quick, precise cuts. 

“Do you steal work from all your students?” 

“Only if it’s worth stealing.” She tilted her head as her runes began to curve into a tight spiral. “I see no one told you about the Bank.” 

“The what?” 

“The Bank. It’s what we call the Office of Patents. Any idea or invention you submit there is safe, and not even I can steal it.” 

“Why are you telling me this?” Cal folded her arms. “Why not keep stealing from me?” 

“Because I hardly need to steal from first years. You had one clever idea, that doesn’t make you a savant. I’m telling you this because I am your teacher, and this is a valuable lesson.” 

Cal rolled her eyes. “Oh, sure, very valuable.” 

“Don’t throw away knowledge!” Teagan hissed, slapping down her stylus. “Especially when freely given, for that is most rare in this place. Think—I have stolen from you, yes, but you are just as free to steal from me, or anyone else. Only the Bank is safe. Do you honestly think that students here advance just by coming up with the best ideas? Perhaps once in a while, yes, but to be truly successful you must learn to take every advantage.”

She shook her head. “I swore to only ever be honest with my students, so I will let you know this. We both know you don’t belong here.”

The words  felt like a slap across the face. Cal forced her emotions to deaden, refusing to betray anything. No one here knew who she truly was after all, right?

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you’re a stuck-up nobleman’s daughter.”

What should’ve been an insult caused Cal to feel a flood of relief. But still, she had to play her part.

“I beg your pardon?” Cal said, trying to summon the indignant tone nobles loved to use.

“The Summer Court was founded because not everyone can be born into the position that you are so fortunate to occupy. Most people have to scrape by, and even that isn’t enough. Whenever you sit in my class, you are taking a space that would better serve someone else. So if you insist on staying, I’ll make damn sure you deserve it. Now, kindly get the fuck out of my office.”

Cal resisted the urge to fight back. On the streets, letting such an insult go unchallenged was a sign of weakness. But here, she had to play pretend. She left without a word.

Usually, Cal would meander on her walks home; trying new routes, doubling back on her path, or just exploring. But this time she took the most direct path, not even bothering to cut the occasional purse on her way.

She threw open the door to the Emporium and beelined for the stairs, but Sable appeared in her path.

“Ah, Cal, a moment of your—”

“Not now.” She went to move past him, but was blocked.

“We have a job for you.”

“Look, it’s been a long day and I just want to go up stairs.”

“I sympathize with you, but unfortunately, our agreement doesn’t mention making exceptions for long days.”

“That, and it’s only noon,” said Burr from behind her.

Cal jumped, letting out a small shout.

“Gods damn it, how did you get there?” She asked.

Burr shrugged. “Quiet shoes? Anyhow, about that job…”

Cal pinched the bridge of her nose. Her hangover wasn’t getting any better. “Fine, fine. I’ll do it. What do you need? More ingredients?”

“Fortunately, this task is something more exotic,” said Sable. “We were approached by a client who seems to have misplaced something quite valuable.”

“And by ‘misplaced’ you mean—”

“He was robbed. And before you ask, the ‘something valuable’ was a ticket to the Tooth and Claw.”

Cal looked from Sable to Burr and back to Sable. “Guys, new student, remember?”

“Right. It’s a… club of sorts. A fighting ring for exotic and dangerous beasts.”

Cal frowned. “That’s legal?”

Burr smiled. “It’s Istima, darling. The only true law is ‘don’t get caught.’”

“Fine, so who stole the ticket?”

“While the client used many colorful and inventive words to describe the thief, the only real lead we have is that he was a Len.”

“Guys, I’m good, I know, but this city is full of Len. Plus, they don’t all look the same. Did this one have scales or fur?”

“The client didn’t make that particular detail known to us. But, it’s likely that the thief will use the ticket to get into the Tooth and Claw. All you have to do is get in and find him.”

“Great. So you have a ticket?”

Sable and Burr shared a meaningful look, grinning viciously.

“Guys?”

The two laughed.

Cal sighed. “Oh, fuck both of you.”

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Interlude: Alendra

Alendra woke quickly to the shrill sound of her alarm, she slapped the off switch and got up, her feet hitting the floor before her mind could argue. It was a trick she’d learned from her father. He’d always said it was harder to fall back asleep if you were already standing by the time you opened your eyes.

She looked around and frowned at the clutter. Given the amount of books the court required her to read, it was hardly any wonder that she had to pile them in pillars around her bed, her desk, and on any available surface. But there was still an hour before she was due at the clerk’s office, plenty of time to clean the place up.

Focusing her senses, Alendra summoned her powers, stretching her arm out towards the books. As she raised her hand, the books were gently lifted into the air. She felt only the briefest tug of weight in her hands as they hovered around her, softly tumbling as she directed them back onto the already overflowing shelves at the foot of her bed. Once they were in place, she breathed out. The mental strain felt good, like exercise. She was tired, but no longer sleep-weary. She stretched upwards and jumped in shock as her second alarm began to blare.

She turned it off and went over to the closet. The area inside was divided in two; to the left was for her personal clothes, to the right for school robes.

The everyday robes of the Autumnal Court were crisp and sleek. Deep blue, with a satin lining the shade of deep orange, like fall leaves. The court’s motto was embroidered in a subtle script in a band around the collar. Through order comes knowledge. Alendra buttoned up the double-breasted front and glanced in the mirror. Everything had to be spotless. Some of the professors had already made a point to verbally thrash any student who failed to meet their exacting specifications.

Her parents had rented her a room at Madam Horatia’s Boarding House for Young Ladies. It was a pleasant little building on the corner of two main thoroughfares of the Founder’s District, and just outside of the Autumnal Court’s gates. Alendra grabbed a piece of bread from the communal dining room of the house and stepped out onto the street.

It was less than five minutes until she’d reached the gate. Passing through the threshold, she was met with a pleasant fall breeze and the scent of dried leaves as the temperature shifted downward to cool, but not biting. She pulled her cloak around her as she hurried towards the east tower. Inside, she crossed the marble floor and took the enchanted elevator up to the fifteenth floor.

“Good morning, Ma’am,” Alendra said as she entered the Hall of Records and Processing.

“Initiate Kaestellus,” said the stern-faced woman behind the main desk. “You have crumbs on your robes.”

“My apologies, Ma’am,” Alendra said, looking down and plucking the stray bits of bread from her clothes.

“Hmm,” the woman’s sharp gaze returned to her work, “next time, do try to appear more professional, understood?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Good. You may go.”

Alendra bowed slightly and headed in.

The Hall of Records and Processing was no ordinary office. It was the beating heart of the Autumnal Court’s administration, and by extension, the entire city. Every student of the court, no matter how advanced, was required to work at least a few hours a week as a clerk for the court. As such, the space was over-engineered to perfection.

A long, suspended bridge ran the full length of the hall. Every ten feet, on both sides of the walkway, was a spiral staircase of wrought iron. The staircases led either up or down three levels each. At each level, a walkway extended out, giving students access to a row of wooden cubicles. The cubicles were stacked on top of each other, making the hall look like an oversized row of bookshelves.

Alendra made her way down the walkway to row K. As she walked, the silence was occasionally punctuated by a low chunk and a soft hiss as the pneumatic tube system delivered records to waiting clerks.

She reached her row and walked down two flights of stairs, then took the walkway to the seventh cubicle. A message container was already waiting in the metal tube by her desk. She sat down and pulled out the papers.

As a first year, she didn’t have many responsibilities. Most of the papers were the records of new students that needed to be processed into the school’s extensive filing system. Working quickly, she could get through seven or eight forms in an hour. From a special pocket in her robe, she pulled out a leather case and withdrew ink and a pen. Then she set to work.

By the fifth record, her hand was beginning to cramp. She flexed her fingers as she read the name on the next page and froze.

Student Name: Lady Callion Augurellia

She scanned through the page. It listed everything the school knew about Callion; physical description, aptitude tests, application essay scores, even known personal relations. Alendra allowed herself a brief smile when she saw she’d gotten higher marks on that last item.

But there was a problem. This record detailed the life of the real Callion. The one who had died before she ever made it to Istima. Any clerk who spent five minutes looking at this page could spot Cal as an impostor.

Alendra stared at the page and frowned.

She had promised to help Cal maintain her cover story and, now that the opportunity presented itself, she was hesitating. What were the consequences of forgery? She’d seen students severely reprimanded for mistakes before, so what would be done about deliberate falsehoods? She considered just forgetting the whole thing. After all, the chances of someone going through Cal’s application paperwork and spotting the issue was small, practically zero really.

But, Alendra thought with a sigh, a promise was a promise. And more than that, Cal had become her friend. She was also a thief, a liar, and most assuredly a miscreant, and her friend. There must be a logical way to determine the best course of action.

As her father had taught her, there was certainty in order, rules, and logic. She just had to find the order: define friendship and determine where it sat on the hierarchy of her obligations.

If she was to define friendship, she would say that it’s a bond between two people who, while not contractually obligated to assist one another, were bound by duty and love to help, even if that involved personal risk. Alendra shook her head. The very definition was illogical.

But surely, some responsibilities superseded the duties of friendship? Romantic love, ethics, and law, to name a few. Yet, as she sat there, pen dripping ink as it hovered over the page, Alendra couldn’t find the will to go against her friend.

She pulled out a fresh page and began to write a new record. She copied over the relevant information, but subtlety changed what was needed to seamlessly integrate the new Callion with the old. The physical description of Cal was close to the original, but it wouldn’t pass under strict scrutiny. Alendra copied the handwriting of the original document as she made the answers more vague. For hair, she put medium and brown. For her eyes, she put dark. For height… how tall was Cal? Shorter than she was, probably due to a lack of proper nutrition. Alendra settled on the meaningless answer of ‘approx. 5 ½ feet.’

She did this with the rest of the answers. The Autumn Court’s paperwork was thorough, and in some places, Alendra strained to find a response that wouldn’t arouse suspicion. When she was done, she looked at the page and froze. There was a blank spot in the bottom right corner where she was supposed to mark her work with a personal seal. That mark would permanently tie this paper with her. Whoever saw it, were the forgery detected, could link the document back to her. And the punishment for falsifying information in the Autumn Court was severe—as  close to treason as one could get.

But she thought back to her own definition of friendship. If Cal was truly her friend, then by her own admission, she was bound by duty and love to help her—even though that involved a great personal risk. She pulled out the small signet ring given to her by the court, pressed it into a small ink pad, and pressed it into the page. When removed, it left a small black circle, inside of which was a picture of a single oak leaf—the rank of Initiate—and a seven digit code assigned to her.

The only thing left to do was shuffle the pages into a neat stack, being sure to place Cal’s somewhere in the middle, and place the forms back into the tube. She held her breath as she inserted the tube into the pipe, as though the system would somehow notice her forgery. But nothing happened. The tube slotted in with a soft chunk and was whisked away.

Alendra stuffed the pens back into her bag, promising herself she’d clean the nibs later. Right now, all she wanted to do was get out of here. She climbed back up to the walkway and made her way toward the front desk.

“Have a good day, Ma’am,” Alendra said, summoning the last remains of her cheerfulness as she passed the desk.

“Initiate Kaestellus,” the woman called. Alendra froze in place, then slowly turned around.

“Yes, Ma’am?”

“You took approximately seven minutes longer than your weekly average to complete your work. Explain yourself.”

“Oh… apologies, Ma’am. Er— one of the applicants had filled out a form incorrectly. I had to make sure their errors weren’t carried over into the records.”

Her heart was in her throat as the woman studied her. Could she tell she was lying? She was terrible at it. Usually, her face would start to go red and hot. Oh gods, she wasn’t saying anything—

“Hmph,” the woman scowled, as though she’d tasted something bitter. “Repulsive. That alone should have been grounds for the rejection of their application. Very well, you may go.”

“Thank you, Ma’am. Good day, Ma’am.” Alendra gave a short bow and did everything in her power to remain calm while walking to the elevator.

When the doors had safely closed behind her, she slumped against the wall and sighed deeply.

Gods, how did Cal do this all day? Wasn’t it exhausting?

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Cal 8

The next morning, Cal was awoken by a shrill whining.

“Gah!” She winced in pain. Opening her eyes didn’t help as the bright light hit her eyes, amplifying her pounding headache. Beside her, Alendra had a similar reaction as she fell out of the bed and reached desperately for her bag.

“What the hell is that?” Cal said, covering her ears.

“Just a second!” Alendra opened her bag and pulled out a small contraption. She flipped a switch and the noise stopped. “There. That’s better.”

“Seriously, what is that?”

“It’s an alarm I got so I don’t sleep late.” Alendra put the device away and rubbed her temples.

“Allie, it’s the weekend.”

“And I’ve got things I need to do.”

“You work too hard.”

“Thanks.” She ran a hand through her hair and frowned. “I don’t suppose there’s a potion to deal with hangovers, is there?”

“I intend to find out,” Cal said, slumping back on her bed.

“Let me know when you do.” Alendra stood and walked to the door. “And don’t forget, you promised to get your hands checked!”

“Right,” Cal raised a lazy hand to wave goodbye and then turned over to groan into her pillow. When she finally worked up the energy to get up, she regretted it instantly. If sleeping on the make-shift bed alone was uncomfortable, trying to share it with someone else was nigh impossible. Cal sat up and winced, slowly stretching her neck and feeling her muscles protest.

Her clothes were rumpled and unkempt, to the point where even the street urchin in her was unhappy, but the only other clean outfit she had was Callion’s velvet dress, and there was no way she was putting on a corset again. She gripped the handrail of the stairs and grimaced as pain shot through her hand. She let go and leaned on the wall, sliding down as she descended.

“Morning, dear,” Sable called from within the kitchen. “Late night?”

“Something like that.”

“I didn’t even hear you come in.” He lifted a mug of steaming tea to his lips. “Though I saw your friend leave.”

Even in her bleary state, Cal caught his meaning. “She’s just a friend.”

“Oh, to be sure.” Sable said, sipping his tea. “Anyways, you look terrible.”

“Thanks. You wouldn’t happen to know of any hangover cures, would you?”

“A shop down the street sells some that work well.”

“Really?”

“Though I doubt you could afford their prices.”

Cal winced. “Figures.”

“Next best option is one of the wading pools. Nothing like cold water to clear the head.”

“Point me there?”

“Left out of the shop and past the bridge.”

Cal nodded and left, stumbling down the second staircase and then out the front door.

The morning sunlight did nothing to help her headache, and she blinked until her eyes adjusted. It was early still, and the usual hustle and bustle of the Falls had yet to pick up. She followed Sable’s directions, going left until she crossed over the bridge and saw a small path between two buildings.

Unlike most of the alleys, the stones slanted downward, towards the waterline of the canals. At the end of the path, it opened into a sort of miniature bay. 

The cobblestones formed a semicircle around a shallow body of turquoise water, like a little tide pool. A net was stretched over the entryway, presumably to keep out detritus.

She’d used public baths before. In some cities they were the only way to get clean. Cal looked back up the path and, once reasonably sure she wouldn’t be disturbed, began to undress. She got down to her smallclothes and dove in. The cold water was a shock to her system, and she surfaced gasping for air. She wiped the hair out of her eyes and floated on her back for a while. She didn’t know if the water had some sort of magic placed upon it, but it felt as though it was seeping all her aches away.

She allowed herself a few minutes of luxuriating before cleaning herself. Without soap, she just had to scrub as best as she could. Soon, her skin was pink and raw, but clean. She stepped out and wished she knew some sort of spell for removing water. As it was, she donned her clothes while still damp and left the pool.

Next, if only to keep Alendra from hounding her, Cal wandered around in search of a healer. It didn’t take her long to find a shop. She stepped inside and was greeted by the strong scent of antiseptic and incense. A man with a trimmed salt-and-pepper beard looked up from the counter.

“Welcome! Does something ail you, young lady?”

“Hi, uh, I cut my hands.” She held out her palms.

“That’s all?” The man looked at her incredulously. “Young lady, I deal in serious medicine. My clients trust me to reattach limbs, save them from incurable poisons, and bring them back from the brink of death.”

“Then this should be easy for you.”

“It’s a waste of my time. Come back if you lose an arm.” He looked back to the pages on his counter.

Cal frowned. “What, that’s it? What kind of doctor are you?”

The man scowled as though she had spat in his face. “I’m not a doctor, I’m a mage. If you want someone to deal with your paper cuts, try Blood Alley. That’s where all the Spring Court hopefuls go to practice.”

Cal sighed and turned to leave. On her way out, she made a mental note of the lack of magical wards on the mage’s windows.

She’d been piecing together a mental map of the Falls District since she’d arrived, but she hadn’t seen any signs for a ‘Blood Alley.’ She asked around and found out that it was a nickname for a place called Hotspur Row.

The street was lined with small alchemical shops and stalls. Anatomical charts and ingredients hung in the windows and the cobblestones were covered in poorly-washed bloodstains. Even now, in the early hours of the day, the street was crowded. There seemed to be two groups of people; the first was the ill, sickly and destitute. It was clear that they couldn’t afford to go anywhere else, not if the established healers were anything like the one Cal had seen.

The second group were the students. They hung out in pairs or small clusters, whispering between each other and watching those who passed by with eager eyes. Cal shrugged off their gazes as she wandered through the crowd.

“Need healin’ there, miss?” One called out to her. “Five drams and I’ll check you out.”

“I’ll do you for three!” His friend shouted as he stepped in her path, causing the small group of students to let loose in cackles.

“Fuck off,” Cal said as she pushed past him. She kept walking, clutching his coin purse in her fist. She needed to find someone discreet. It was possible someone in the Spring Court knew Callion. Towards the end of the street, she saw a lone figure perched awkwardly on the stoop of a closed shop. Fur, large eyes, and the familiar musty smell confirmed it was a Len.

Ah! Cal smiled. Good. Plenty of Len had passed through the squatter camps Cal had called home at one time or another. Once you knew how to speak to them, it was pretty easy to get what you wanted. That, and they tended to be far less nosy than humans.

This Len had his head buried in a book. Cal approached and waited for him to notice.

It took a few minutes.

Finally, the sun was high enough that her shadow began to touch the edge of the Len’s book. He wrinkled his nose and then looked up.

“Oh!” He snapped his book shut. “You require medical assistance?”

Cal opened her mouth to respond and remembered that this was a Len. Conversation was meant to be a game—the stakes of which was usually money. She held out her hands.

“I have a few small cuts, hardly worth the effort.”

The Len smiled. “Then perhaps even one as unskilled as I can help.” He reached forward for her hands and then stopped. His smile dropped. “I will have to touch you in order to help.”

“I expect so.”

The Len raised an eyebrow, but carefully turned her hands over, looking at the wounds.

“These are more serious than you say,” he said. “You may need advanced care. It could be very costly.”

“I don’t wish to trouble a… Heal? Is that what you’d call them?”

“So you come to a Study? You are a strange human.”

“If this is too challenging, I understand entirely. I’ll find someone competent—”

“Wait!” The Len clutched her palms tightly and closed his eyes. Suddenly, there was a bright light and misty lines began to form in a web pattern around his hands. Her limbs felt strange, like being jabbed with pins and needles. Cal wanted to pull away, but watched with amazement as the ragged cuts began to shrink, the skin repairing itself. When the Len was done, the wounds had become nothing more than small, silver scars. Cal stared in wonder at the magic.

“Not bad,” she muttered.

“It is average. That will be five drams.” The Len held out a hand expectantly. “Unless you want me to do something about the scars of course.”

Cal smiled. “Study, you really should discuss payment before rendering services.”

Somewhere beneath all the fur, she could swear she saw him blushing.

“I… that is theft.”

“Theft is taking something with a price tag. How was I to know you would charge for your healing?”

The Len stared at her with what was either fury or amusement. She never could tell with Len.

“Who are you?” He finally said.

“I am a customer.”

“Do you have a name?”

“Of course, don’t you?”

The Len was wary, but Cal saw him try to hide a smile, “Doesn’t everyone?”

Cal sighed. “Well, this has been entertaining, but I must be off.” She turned to leave, then paused and looked back to the Len. “Actually, I’ve always wanted to try this. I’d like your name. What’s the phrase you use? Honest truth? Honest word?”

The Len’s face fell, “You were doing so well. Almost as well as a Len. A little more time and you could’ve won.”

Cal shrugged. “Losing only matters if you want to win the game. Now, you’re name?”

“Study Yam Hist. And you?”

Cal wagged a finger. “Now that would be telling.” She reached into the coin purse she’d taken from the other student and fished out a clump of gold, definitely at least five drams. She tossed the nugget to Yam. “Thanks for playing.”

She turned and left, leaving the Len to stare down at the money in his hands while he opened and closed his mouth like a surprised fish.

As she exited the street, she took a left towards home, smiling as she went. Something in one of the windows of a store caught her eye. Something rather familiar. She stopped, cupping her hands to block out the light as she peered through the glass.

Inside, for a price tag of fifty drams, she saw her boots. The ones she had enchanted for Teagan’s class. 

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