Emperor of Ruin

Book 3: Burningblade & Silvereye

by Django Wexler

Genres: Epic Fantasy; Fantasy action & adventure; Military Fantasy

Synopsis

In the final instalment of Django Wexler's brilliantly imagined epic fantasy trilogy about two siblings divided by magic and revolution, Gyre and Maya must finally join forces and rally the people to take down the Twilight Order once and for all.
The last surviving Chosen, Ashok, has finally risen up and taken control of The Twilight Order. He promises equality and prosperity, but Gyre and Maya know the truth. Only death follows in Ashok's wake.
To take him down, Gyre will have to unite old allies - from all across The Splinter Kingdoms and the depths of Deepfire. And Maya will have to seek out a legendary weapon hidden in the mountains that could turn the tide in their battle for freedom...
Praise for the author: 'Immensely enjoyable, this high fantasy novel contains characters and a storyline to die for... Not only is this a fast-paced beautifully diverse read, I found the humour perfectly timed... Ashes of the Sun has it all, and comes with the higher than highly recommended tag.' LOVEREADING
'Exciting. Immersive. Epic. A perfect page turner and a phenomenal start to a new series.' PETER CLINES, author of The Fold and Ex-Heroes
'Immersive and wondrous... Highly, highly recommended. It will take a great deal for any fantasy novel in 2020 to knock Ashes of the Sun off my top fantasy spot for the year.' SFF WORLD
'A high-octane, dystopian fantasy thrill-ride... Scintillating... Unpredictable and shocking too. Highly recommended.' GRIMDARK MAGAZINE

Release date: February 28, 2023

Publisher: Orbit

Print pages: 512

Sample

Maya opened her eyes with a gasp, cradling her ruined hand against her chest.

For a moment she could see nothing at all, surrounded by total, inky darkness. Then something strobed in front of her, a jagged stroke of white-hot lightning, gone between blinks but leaving shimmering afterimages. A few heartbeats later there was another flash, farther off, and then still farther, twisting bolts marching into the distance.

Where am I?

Her head throbbed. She’d been in the Purifier’s control room, trying to reason with Gyre. She’d used the ancient machine, and…

It destroyed the Plague. She’d felt it, the wave of energy that rippled out into the world as a self-sustaining chain reaction, tiny dark particles bursting into halos of brilliant light. It worked.

And then the Gate had opened, and Ashok had emerged. Or something had.

The Corruptor. Ashok’s handsome form fused with a monstrous construct, a bloated, spider-legged thing of dark muscle and pulsing intestinal tubing. She’d tried to stop him, but he was a Chosen. His power was overwhelming. And then his resonator had exploded in her hand, shredding her flesh and spattering her with dark fluid. She’d felt the chill of the stuff through her agony.

But that was all she remembered.

Carefully, Maya sat up, finding a cold metal surface above her. She explored it with her good hand while lightning flashed again close by, bright and silent. She got a quick glimpse of a row of machines sitting on a long metal table. Crawling forward, she found she’d been sitting under a similar table. Lightning flashed in the next machine down, then the next, regular as a heartbeat. It was contained in crystalline spheres that sat atop complex assemblies of pipes and conduits.

It all looked like something that could be part of the Purifier, but they hadn’t found any doors except to the control room. Did Beq take me somewhere else in the complex?

She cleared her throat. “H… hello?” Her voice quivered, and Maya gritted her teeth and steadied herself. “Hello? Beq? Varo? Gyre?”

There was no response except the silent flashes of lightning.

She touched her belt and was relieved to find her haken in its accustomed place. Laying a finger on it, she drew on deiat to summon a light. It was something she could do by reflex, which made it all the more unsettling when nothing appeared. Her heart double-thumped, and she forced herself to settle down.

My connection’s burnt out from overuse. No wonder, given what she’d done in the Purifier. It’ll be fine in a few hours. That was common enough, but this felt different somehow. Not like there was something wrong with her, but as though deiat itself were gone, the eternal fire of the sun snuffed out. Which is ridiculous.

With no better option, she started walking down the line of machines, navigating by the flashes. There were several more rows to either side, lightning trapped in the crystal spheres and thrashing like it wanted to escape. After a little while, she came to an archway opening onto a long corridor.

Here, at least, things were a little more familiar. The architecture wouldn’t have looked out of place in the Forge, except that the walls and floor were iridescent gray unmetal instead of stone. Sunstones set in sconces at regular intervals threw a wan illumination. Both sides of the hall were lined with doorways, and though the rooms beyond were dark, Maya got glimpses of other strange machines. There were tanks of murky liquid, churning slowly in the faint light, and spiderwebs of tubing. The air was bone cold and smelled of metal.

Pausing a moment, Maya took a deep breath and uncurled her injured hand. It didn’t hurt, but she couldn’t feel much of anything from it, which seemed like a bad sign. To her surprise, the shredded flesh she remembered was gone. Her calloused brown skin was mottled with patches of pure darkness. She wiggled her fingers and watched them move as though they belonged to someone else.

If Ashok won, maybe he captured me? The thought brought a tightness to her chest—not for herself, since she seemed to be in one piece, but for the others. If I’m alive, they must be too. Maya refused to contemplate the alternative.

She kept walking, now with renewed purpose. Every room she passed was dark and silent, but ahead the corridor ended in another archway, and she made for that. It let onto a circular room ringed by several more archways, with a round console at its center studded with crystals and wire. Curved horns stuck up from the center, outlining the base of an invisible sphere. Maya guessed they were an image projector, like a larger version of the resonator.

A man stood at the controls, his back to Maya. He turned as she paused in the doorway.

“Hello, sha’deia,” said Ashok. The Corruptor.

He looked fully human—or fully Chosen—without the monstrous grafts of metal and flesh. His face was sculpted and handsome, with high cheekbones and delicate features, and his slicked-back hair gleamed with the luster of true gold. He wore loose trousers and a cotton robe, all in white, open at the front to show off a well-muscled torso.

Maya’s good hand had automatically drawn her haken. She tried to ignite it, but her effort of will produced only a frustrating silence. Ashok raised one eyebrow, and his lip quirked.

“Finding yourself a bit powerless?” he said. “Pity.”

“Where are we?” Maya said. “What happened to the others?”

“I wouldn’t worry about them.” He ambled toward her, hands in his pockets. “We have bigger things to think about.”

“Tell me what you’ve done with them,” Maya grated.

“Honestly,” Ashok said, “I’m just trying to have a quiet conversation—”

“Tell me.”

“I haven’t done anything to them,” he said, annoyed. “Nor do I have any idea where they are. Does that satisfy you?”

Maya stared at him for a moment. The Chosen’s eyes glittered dangerously.

“So where am I?” she said.

“That’s a complicated question. Where your body is, I couldn’t tell you.”

“My body?” Maya looked around. “This is some kind of dream?”

“In essence. But a dream we share.” His smile grew wider, sharklike.

“If this is a dream, then I want to wake up.”

“I’m afraid it’s not that simple.” He stepped forward, grabbing her wrist before she could back away, pulling up her injured hand. “We are linked now, you and I. Part of me is part of you, and always will be.”

Maya stared at the dark splotches on her fingers. Her skin crawled and she yanked her hand away.

“So none of this is real.”

Ashok made a so-so gesture. “As I said, it’s complicated.”

At least that explains why I can’t touch deiat. Something deep in Maya shuddered in relief, but she did her best not to show it.

“Then why am I here?” she asked. “If you could have killed me with dreams, I assume you’d have done it already.”

“Kill you?” His smile broadened again. “I’m not going to kill you, Maya. In fact, I’m very eager to meet you in person. That’s why I wanted to talk to you, in fact. I’m going to make you an offer.”

“I’m not interested.”

“I think you might be. If you truly care about your friends. Your brother. That arcanist girl.” He smirked. “Yes, I thought so. The offer is this: find me, come to me, and I will forget they ever existed.”

“Even if I thought that was a good idea, how could I possibly trust you? You used us.”

“I did,” Ashok said agreeably. “And would again, if I had to. But believe me when I say that while I require your assistance with certain projects, I have no interest in the others. If they stay out of the way, I will ignore them.”

He leaned closer, eyes darkening. “If they do not, if you make things difficult, then I may become irritated. I will have you, sha’deia, one way or the other. But if I have to come and take you, then I promise I will kill everyone who helped you, everyone who sheltered you, everyone who so much as spared you a kind word, until you beg me to let you surrender. Understand?”

Maya set her jaw. “I understand that you’re a monster.”

“I never claimed otherwise.” His smile returned. “Great things are coming, and you have a chance to be a part of them. I hope you make the right decision.”

“I’ll find you, all right,” Maya promised. “I never should have listened to you, and I need to make up for that. I’m going to destroy you.”

“So fierce,” Ashok said. “But you cannot hide your doubts from me. Not here. Think on it, sha’deia. I will see you soon.”

The world around Maya dissolved into darkness.

Exhaustion pulled at Gyre like a pack full of stones, but he didn’t dare close his eyes. Maya lay on the bedroll, her breathing fast and shallow, her crimson hair soaked with sweat. Every so often she coughed, flecking her lips with black and red sputum. Her left hand was bound in a ragged ball of cloth. Gyre had gotten only a glimpse of the injury as Varo had rapidly applied the makeshift bandage, but that had been enough to turn his stomach.

The sun had vanished entirely, leaving the abandoned cabin with only a single dim glowstone for illumination. Gyre had run out of energy even to pace, so he rocked back and forth on his heels, watching his sister’s jerky breaths. When a rustle came from the other room, he froze, momentarily forgetting what he was supposed to do. Then he bounded to his feet as Elariel appeared in the doorway, rubbing her eyes blearily. Her clothes were scorched and sooty, and her red-brown hair was a filthy tangle.

“Oh, thank the fucking Chosen,” Gyre muttered.

“Gyre?” Elariel said. “What happened? We made it through the Gate—”

“You collapsed,” Gyre said. “Sarah carried you. We’re in an old cabin Varo found, not far from Bastion.”

Elariel shook her head. “Bastion?”

It was easy to forget that Elariel had spent her life in a cave. “A city in the northern Republic. It doesn’t matter.” Gyre took her by the arm and pulled her to the pallet. “You have to help Maya.”

“I…” Elariel allowed herself to be moved a few steps, then pulled back. “What happened to Sarah and the others?”

“They went to the city to find supplies. We need food, bandages, quickheal.”

“But…” Elariel chewed her lip.

“They’ll be fine,” Gyre said, though he had to admit it was more a hope than a certainty. “Sarah has Varo and Beq with her. But please—”

Elariel looked down at Maya, who coughed weakly and moaned in her sleep. The ghoul’s fist clenched.

“She tried to kill me, Gyre,” she said. “When she found out what I was. She tried to kill you.”

“I know. But—”

“She’s a centarch. Like the one you killed at the Commune camp.”

“I know.” The word came out as a shout. Gyre took a few long breaths to calm himself. “She’s my sister. I know you don’t understand what that means.” Ghouls were raised in group creches and didn’t know their parents, let alone their siblings. “Please. It’s… important.”

Elariel studied his face for a long moment. She muttered something in her own language; Gyre guessed it was an obscenity.

“I’m keeping her haken,” Elariel said, kneeling beside Maya and grabbing the bladeless sword from her belt.

“Fine.” Gyre knelt too, and fought off a wave of dizziness.

Muttering another curse, Elariel laid her hands on Maya’s side. Her eyes closed, eyelids twitching as she mumbled to herself. Gyre imagined the tendrils of dhaka, the life-magic that was everything Maya and the Twilight Order condemned, spreading out from the ghoul’s touch to reach through Maya’s body. He wasn’t sure if Maya would have agreed to this or not. But it’s the only chance we have.

“She’s in bad shape,” Elariel said quietly. “It’s not just the hand. The Plague tore up her lungs, her throat—”

“Can you help her?” Gyre grated, his knuckles going white.

“I can,” Elariel said. “But it’s going to take time. She’ll sleep for a while.”

“Fine,” Gyre said, breathing out. All the tension abruptly leaked out of him, leaving only the exhaustion. “That’s fine.”

“And there’s something else.” Elariel frowned, eyes still closed, and her fingers twitched. “Something in her blood. It’s… strange.”

“Is it hurting her?”

“Not that I can tell,” Elariel said. “Which is good, because I can’t get any kind of a grip on it. Her body won’t acknowledge that it’s there.”

“We can deal with it later, then.” Gyre sat back. “As long as she’ll be okay.”

“She will.” Elariel opened her eyes, her expression softening. “Get some rest. I’ll stay with her.”

Gyre nodded dully. He dragged himself to the other room, where Elariel had been lying on a second bedroll. There was no pillow, but it hardly mattered; he barely had time to lie flat before consciousness fled.

It seemed like no time at all had passed before his eyes opened, but by the lines of light clawing their way past rotting shutters, the sun was already rising. Birds twittered and squeaked outside. Gyre’s throat felt like it was caked with soot, and his eyes like they had had their sockets packed with itchy straw, but it was still a considerable improvement on how he’d felt the night before. He rolled over and found his canteen, still a quarter full of tepid water. He drained it, hacked a blob of blue-black mucus onto the ancient floorboards, and slowly got to his feet.

Instinctively he found himself looking for Kit. She’d been his constant companion for months, her voice emerging from black spider-constructs linked to the arcana that contained her disembodied mind, back in the crippled Leviathan. But she’d sacrificed the last of her nearby bodies to buy them time to escape from the Corruptor. She could make more, given time, but thousands of kilometers separated Gyre from Leviathan’s Womb. Gyre was surprised by how much he missed her sarcastic interjections. Her conversation might have been filthy, but at least it was always upbeat. Kit was firm in the conviction that the worst had already happened to her, so there was nowhere to go but up.

Groaning, Gyre shuffled to the door. Elariel sat against the wall in the other room, dozing beside Maya. The effects of the ghoul’s ministrations were evident—Maya’s color was much improved, her breathing was easier, and sweat no longer stood out on her forehead. Elariel stirred and yawned.

“It’s about time to bring her back to waking,” the ghoul said. “I thought it would be better if you were here.”

“Thanks,” Gyre said. “She’s… all right?”

“I said she would be,” Elariel said. “Her hand will require more healing, though, and fresh bandages. She’ll need water, too.”

“I’ll get some.” Gyre picked up a couple of extra canteens from among their scattered gear. “Give me a minute.”

The woods, which had seemed claustrophobic in the pain and terror of the night before, were quite pleasant in the golden light of morning. The cabin was a log-walled single-story affair that might have been a shelter for hunters, but it had clearly gone unused for many years—the door hung by a single hinge and moss was slowly conquering the peaked roof. The remnants of a trail still led from the door down to a stream. Gyre drank until he’d cleared his throat, then filled the canteens and went back.

Elariel sat beside Maya, eyes closed. Gyre waited until she looked up, then offered her one of the canteens. She took it with a yawn.

“She’ll wake up in a minute or two,” the ghoul said. “When are the others getting back?”

“Soon, if everything went well.”

“Wake me up when they get here.”

“I will.” Gyre hesitated. “Thank you, Elariel. I know this wasn’t an easy choice.”

“I just hope you’re right about her.” The ghoul frowned down at Maya. “If she wakes up and tries to kill us, forgive me if I say I told you so.”

Gyre chuckled weakly. Elariel checked her belt for Maya’s haken, then wandered into the other room. Gyre settled down beside the pallet as Maya began to shift restlessly. A few moments later, her eyes shot open, and she twitched as though she were trying to sit up. Gyre leaned forward and put a hand on her shoulder.

“Maya, hey. It’s okay. Everything’s okay.”

“Gyre?” Maya blinked and managed to turn her head toward him.

“It’s me. You’re okay. Just relax.”

“I can’t… I can’t move.” Her good arm trembled at her side, lifting only a few centimeters from the mat.

“Elariel had you in a healing state. You’re still coming out of it. Just wait for a minute.”

“Elariel…” Maya’s eyes widened. “With dhaka?”

“We didn’t have a choice,” Gyre said. “You would have died if she hadn’t. I’m sorry, but I couldn’t let that happen.”

“I…” Maya concentrated for a moment and moved her arm enough to take Gyre’s hand. “It’s all right. I’m just a little out of it.” Her expression tightened. “Where’s Beq and the others?”

“They’ll be here soon,” Gyre said soothingly. “They went to find food.”

“Good.” She still looked haunted. “But… the Purifier…”

“Just rest. We’ll talk about it when they get back.”

“I let him out, Gyre.” Maya strained and managed to sit up, panting with the effort. “He led me along by the nose and I was too plaguing blind to see it.”

“It’s not your fault—”

“Of course it is!”

“Not just your fault, at least,” Gyre said. “We were all there.”

“You tried to stop me.”

“I tried,” Gyre said with a wry smile.

“And Prodominus…” Maya stopped. “Is he here?”

Gyre shook his head. “He… stayed. I think he destroyed the Gate after we left, to keep the Corruptor from following.”

“Chosen defend. I’ve never heard of a Gate being destroyed. The energy involved…” She shook her head. “At least he’d have died quickly.”

“Maybe he destroyed the Corruptor, too.”

Maya shook her head. “He’s still alive. And he’s coming after us. After me.”

“You can’t know that.”

“I know, trust me.” Her face was shadowed. “Though I suppose that may be too much to ask. I lied to you.”

She had. Maya had convinced Gyre the Purifier would destroy the plaguespawn, rather than the Plague itself. Looking at her now, drawn and hollow-eyed, he had a hard time being angry about the betrayal.

“You did what you thought was best,” he said carefully. “I can still trust in that.”

“Ashok warned us you might be working with the ghouls to sabotage the Purifier.”

Gyre gave a hollow laugh. “We had no idea the thing was there. Although if we’d known you were trying to bring back a Chosen, we certainly would have tried to stop you.”

“Chosen defend.” Maya tipped her head back, fighting tears. “I thought… Well. I’ve made a plaguing mess.”

“We’re alive,” Gyre said. “That’s something.”

“We are.” Maya’s lips tightened. “And I’m going to stop him. Whatever his plan is from here, I’m going to burn it down. I swear it.”

Gyre had his own opinions on the practicality of that, but he held his tongue. Fortunately, at that moment there was a clatter of footsteps coming up the path. A party of three came inside, laden with heavy packs, and the air was suddenly full of excited shouting.

“Maya!” Beq dropped her burdens and ran to Maya’s side, wrapping her arms around her. “Oh, thank the Chosen. I thought—I thought—”

“I’m okay,” Maya said, pressing her face into Beq’s long green braid. “I’m still here.”

“I’m glad you’re alive, too,” Varo said, setting his pack down by the door. His light brown scalp, normally bald as an egg, was flecked with stubble after days in the wilderness. “I was hoping you wouldn’t end up like my friend on our trek to Gubernin. He got bit by a snake on the first day, and he told us he was fine, but his foot kept swelling bigger and bigger. By the fifth day, he tried to walk on it and it just popped.” He mimed an explosion with his hands. “Got all over everything, let me tell you.”

“Thank you, Varo,” Maya managed, still hugging Beq, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter. “I knew you’d have something appropriate to say.”

“Where’s Elariel?” Sarah said. She had a fresh cloak, and her left arm was wound in a sheet, concealing the ghoul-made prosthetic underneath.

“I’m here.” Elariel appeared in the doorway, still yawning. “Just tired. Helping Maya took half the night.”

“You healed her?” Beq said. “With dhaka?”

There was an abrupt silence. Maya drew herself up a little.

“Thank you,” she said, bowing slightly to Elariel. “I owe you my life. I was… hasty, before. I’m glad you didn’t hold that against me.”

Elariel shrank in on herself under the combined gazes, her cheeks coloring.

“Thank Gyre,” she muttered. “I wouldn’t have, but he insisted.”

Another awkward pause, which Varo broke by unbuckling his pack.

“We bought food,” he said. “Or I bought food, anyway. Would you believe I’m the only one who had any money? One of the basic rules of being a scout—always have a few thalers tucked away. One time, my friend—”

“I’m starved,” Maya interrupted.

There was a busy interval as the packs were broken open and supplies distributed. It was simple fare, fresh bread with butter and dried summerfruit, but it felt like a feast. Gyre wasn’t sure how long it had been since his last meal—sometime before they’d reached the Purifier—but it felt like an eternity. Even Elariel settled down beside Sarah and tore into a round loaf with her teeth.

“Okay,” Varo said, when everyone was satisfied. “Nobody wants to say it, so I will. What in the name of the Chosen do we do now?”

Elariel looked down at her hands. Beq looked to Maya, who had her eyes closed, her brow creased in thought. Gyre shifted uncomfortably. As he cleared his throat to speak, Maya came to a decision and leaned forward.

“I have made a terrible mistake,” she said. Beq murmured something conciliatory, but Maya waved a hand. “Ashok lied to me, and I trusted him. You can blame me or not, whatever you prefer. The question is what we’re going to do about it.”

“The Order needs to be warned,” Varo said.

“So does Apphia in Khirkhaz,” Gyre said.

“My people, too,” Elariel said. She got a look from Varo and bristled. “The Corruptor threatens everyone, not just humanity.”

“Can we trust the Order?” Sarah said.

“Prodominus didn’t think so,” Gyre said. “He told me to take Maya to the Forge and find someone called Xalen. Said she was the only one we could trust.”

“He’s right,” Maya said. “At least about not being able to trust everyone. We know there were other resonators, other people taking Ashok’s instructions. I’ve never heard of a Xalen, though. Have either of you?”

Beq and Varo both shook their heads.

“I need to get back to Deepfire,” Elariel said. “As soon as possible.”

“We’re a long way from Deepfire,” Sarah said. She carefully touched Elariel’s stiff shoulder. “It’d take months to get there on foot, and we’re in Republic territory.”

“There’s a Gate,” Gyre said, “but—”

“It comes out in the Spike,” Sarah finished. “The most heavily guarded place in the Auxie garrison.”

“Then we go through the garrison,” Elariel said. “Gyre can handle it, I’m sure. I’ll recharge the energy bottles.”

“I can’t say I like the idea,” Gyre said.

“And I’m not happy with the idea of opening a Gate so you can kill dozens of Auxiliaries on the other side,” Varo said. “I realize needs must, but…”

“Gyre,” Maya said. “Can we talk? In private?”

Gyre blinked. “Of course.”

He offered his hand to help Maya up. They went out the front door, Maya’s bare feet crunching amid the scatter of fallen leaves covering the forest floor. Inside, they could hear the argument continue.

“What’s going on?” Gyre said.

“I want to make a deal,” Maya said. “With Elariel. But I think it might work better if you help me sell it.”

“What kind of a deal?”

“What she did for me…” She raised her injured hand, staring at its bandaged contours. “It doesn’t hurt anymore. And my lungs feel… fine. I thought I was going to die.”

“I know,” Gyre said quietly.

“I have a mentor. Jaedia. My teacher. Almost my mother, after the Order took me. She… I love her very much.” Maya’s voice was unsteady. “I barely remember our real mother. I’m sorry if that makes me sound horrible to you.”

“It’s understandable. You were young.”

“I was. And…” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. The important thing is that Jaedia got hurt. One of the Corruptor’s creatures took over her body. I saved her, but ever since then, she hasn’t woken. I’m starting to think she never will. Unless…”

“Unless Elariel helps her,” Gyre finished. “You’re willing to do that? Use dhaka?”

Maya raised her bandaged hand. “I suppose I have to be. If it brings her back, I’d do anything.”

“Elariel isn’t going to want to help another centarch. And Jaedia’s in the Forge, right? How are we going to get to her?”

“I’ll figure that part out. Here’s the deal: if Elariel will do what she can for Jaedia, I’ll get you to Deepfire. I can use my authority as a centarch to get you past the garrison. I may get in trouble afterward, but…” She shrugged. “I’m not sure that matters much anymore.”

“It’s a plan, at least.” Gyre pursed his lips. “I can talk to Elariel and Sarah. But no promises.”

“I’ll handle Varo and Beq,” Maya said. “Thank you, Gyre.”

“Don’t thank me yet.”

“Is she mad?” Elariel said, her color rising again. “This is obviously insane.”

She paced up and down the little room. Maya had taken Varo and Beq outside, and Gyre could hear the quiet murmur of their conversation. Sarah stood by the door, trying to take Elariel’s hand, but the ghoul kept stalking away from her.

“You have to admit,” Sarah said, giving up, “it’s a little crazy.”

“A little?” Elariel rounded. “She wants us to go to the Forge. The headquarters of the Order that has hunted my people for four centuries.”

“I realize it’s not a great option,” Gyre said. “But without her we don’t have any great options. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re stuck in the middle of the Republic. Without her help, we’re not going anywhere.”

“Get her to open the Gate to Deepfire.”

“There’s a thousand armed soldiers on the other side.”

“Better odds than we’d have at the Forge!”

“We’re not going to fight our way in,” Gyre said. “Maya and the others can cover for us. We just need to get in, find Jaedia and maybe this Xalen, and then get to a Gate.”

“What do we care about Xalen?” Elariel said.

“Prodominus seemed to think she could help,” Gyre said. “The more information we have about the Corruptor, the better.”

Elariel looked back and forth between them, her eyes full of frustration. Turning to Sarah, she said, “And are you going along with this?”

“I…” Sarah hesitated. “It’s dangerous. But I don’t have any better ideas. I’ve been inside the Spike, El, and I don’t like the thought of fighting our way out, even with Gyre’s augmentations. It’s the long way back to Deepfire, but it may be the fastest.”

“If Maya and her friends decide to turn us in, it’s the fastest way to an Order cell,” Elariel said.

“Maya won’t betray us,” Gyre said.

“You trust her?” Elariel said. “Even after she brought us to the Purifier?”

Gyre nodded silently.

“Because you are the products of the same sexual union?”

“Because I know her. She’s still the same Maya the Order dragged away, whatever they’ve done to her in the meantime.”

Elariel stared at him, jaw working. Sarah put a hand gently on her shoulder.

“I trust Gyre,” she said. “If he thinks this is the right plan…”

The ghoul sagged, tension going out of her like an expelled breath.

“I suppose,” she muttered, “it’s far from the first time that I’ve put my life in his hands. And Refuge must be warned of the Corruptor’s coming. But I don’t like this.”

“I understand,” Gyre said. “Honestly, I’m not excited about the idea myself.”

We can’t Gate directly to the Forge,” Varo said. The six of them were gathered in a circle again, eating another meal of bread and fruit as the sun slid slowly toward afternoon. “The Gate chamber is always watched by a centarch and a squad of Legionaries, and the doors are sealed. There’s no way past them.”

“There must be another way in,” Maya said. “What about the docks?”

Varo nodded. “That’s our best bet. The scouts have a few tricks. I’m not supposed to share them with centarchs, so stay quiet about it.” He grinned. “Though nobody ever said anything about rebels and secret ghouls. I guess the rest of you are in the clear.”

Nobody laughed. Nothing new there, I guess.

“Where do we get a boat?” Beq said.

“In Skyreach,” Varo said. He sketched a map on the dusty floor, an oval for the lake with the Forge on one side and Skyreach on the other. “The scouts always have a few on retainer to make quiet pickups.”

“So now we’re going to the capital of the Republic as well,” Elariel muttered, arms pulled tight across