Claude started his third day in the mountain city taking stock of his yarn. He hadn't bought much to begin with, and most of it was used on that toy he made at the waypoint. Still, he had a project in mind, something he could leave here when he moved on. To wherever that would be. His previous day had been spent helping his mother, and to some extent, the twins, clear out the loft. The space was even bigger than he'd imagined. He could fit several sewing machines and a sizable bed in there if he needed to.

Though he shouldn't be making plans for a space that wasn't his own. His mother had made it clear that he could rest here as long as he'd like, but to live there felt like he was inserting himself somewhere he didn't belong.

His mother had built this lovely life and family, and he'd fallen out of the sky, her long lost son. While he felt welcomed, he still felt more like an intruder, a stranger welcome for a meal and a warm bed but not much more. Perhaps he could go back to Avaly, surely there was work there he could do. Or even Desta. That way he'd still be close to the mountain city. Outside his room the sun was climbing down the side of the western mountains, promising a warm day, perfect for some shopping.

A knock on his door pulled him out of his reverie. He already knew it was Ashon, because his mother had gone to work and the twins were in school. "Come in."

Ashon poked his head through the door. "Morning." He'd graduated from a crutch to a cane and his foot wasn't wrapped up anymore. "I just need to get out to the garden."

"No worries." Claude slung his bag on his shoulder. "I was just about to head to market."

"Ah, well while you're there can you..." His words trailed off and he furrowed his brow, hobbling towards the window. He dashed the curtain aside and grimaced. "Stay here."

Claude swallowed and watched his retreat down the stairs. The wind rustled the curtains and he peeked through. Down in the front yard, he spotted a several paterra coming up the path pulling a regally swathed carriage—not unlike the one he rode into the city. Celesta? One of her guards—Ishwa—jumped down from the top of the carriage, hands never drifting far from the curved blades at her hips.

Conversation reached his ears, but he couldn't make out what was being said. He paced to the garden door, back to the window. It could be nothing, but knowing the circumstances under which he came to this city, it was definitely something. Else, Ashon wouldn't have told him to stay put.

"Claude, come downstairs," Ashon called from below.

He tucked his pouch of gold away in his bag and pounded down the steps before making a beeline for the front yard. Ashon stood at the edge of the porch with Ishwa. The slash of gold dust on her face sparkled in the morning sun and she levelled Claude with her gaze.

"Morning," Claude greeted amicably.

"Good, you're here." She gestured towards the waiting carriage. "The Baraza has called you. We must make haste."

While he had no idea what that meant, but by the way she said it, it couldn't be good. He looked to Ashon who nodded for him to go. It was the kind of nod you gave someone when it was time for them to succumb to their fate, and it made a sheen of sweat break out of Claude's body.

"I will join you," Ashon said. "Just give me a moment." And he disappeared into the house.

Claude hopped into the carriage and sat down, suddenly feeling light headed. He'd escaped death coming into the city, but he wasn't sure if he could escape it again. It seemed Octavia and Quintus' blessing wouldn't be enough.

It was foolish to think that as a former priest they just let him stay here in peace. He just hoped this Baraza person—whoever they were—was more merciful than the Divine City. Give him a swift, painless death. At least let him say goodbye to his mother first.

Ashon joined him in the carriage a moment later, and Ishwa wasted no time getting the paterra moving. Claude rubbed the sweat from his palms. Out the window the fortress loomed in the east, its tall, thick pillars daunting even from this distance. He tore his eyes away from it and leaned his head against the cushioned bench. The bump of the carriage made the churning in his stomach worse.

"Who is Baraza?" Claude asked, to fill the air with something other than his fear.

Ashon laid his cane across his lap. "Not exactly a who, more of a what. It's a gathering of the seven crests the Summersong Mountains, including King Rakki of Jua. Each represents one of the mountains that encircle the city and they're all direct descendants of its founders. I suppose they'd be equivalent to the Divine City's Assembly."

"And... do you know why they called me?" He already knew. He didn't want to say it out loud, but he needed to hear it out loud.

"Well," Ashon breathed a long, heavy sigh, and grimaced. "Let's just say having a former Priest in the city is less than ideal."

"Right, of course." It was no different than a necromancer being in the Divine City. "Did you know this was going to happen?"

"Your mother and I discussed it, even did our best to prevent it. Needless to say, we didn't expect this to be escalated all the way to the Baraza, but I suppose your situation is... unique." He glanced out the window thoughtfully. "I'm not too fond of the way they operate, or a few of its members. In some ways they're just as ruthless as the Divine City."

Claude dug his nails into his palms, his knuckles white. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Two things." He put up a finger. "One, be respectful. There are a few ornery, old croons in that group, and their tempers are short—patience even shorter. Two," a second finger went up. "No matter what, Rakki gets the last word. If you can endear yourself to him, you may have a chance."

"I understand." So not much different to Marius and his band of curmudgeons he usually dealt with. Perhaps he could live through this if chose his words carefully.

"However," Ashon continued. "If all else fails, I have a contingency plan. I'd rather not have to use it but..." His words trailed off with a sigh.

Claude nodded. "I'll do my best."

They made the rest of the ride in silence, and Claude set his gaze out the window. The shadow of the east mountain still lay across the spring and the boats took advantage of that, keeping away from the waters already exposed to the sun. Even from inside the carriage he could hear the wind chimes tinkling in the breeze. The founders stood stoic and unblinking, only their heads bathed in morning light.

Would they have spared him, he wandered. The priesthood put profound interest on the values of its founder—or rather the perceived values. Every decision was made with them in mind. Which never made sense to him. Who cares what a bunch of people who died centuries ago thought?

The courtyard outside the fortress wasn't as busy as it had been the day before. Only a few people hung around in tight groups, talking or strolling towards the docks. The air outside was crisp and lightly scented with flowers and dew.

Ishwa led them into the fortress, through the throngs of people, but this time they took a left into a wide hall and followed it to its end. It led to a set of stairs that climbed to the upper reaches of the fortress. And they went up. And up. And up. By the fifth stairwell Claud was wheezing and Ashon leaned heavily on his cane. Just when he thought they'd break away from the stairwell, they went up more, until there was no stairwell left. By the time they climbed the last step, he was ready to pass out, and he realised he hadn't fully recovered from his journey here. He hunched over and breathed heavily, wind roaring in his ears and rustling his clothes.

The halfway beyond was wide enough for five people to walk through sided-by-side, arched at its apex and lined with guards. Large windows allowed the wind in, and after looking out the one above the stairs, vertigo turned Claude's stomach upside down.

They were high up enough to see not only the city, but the valleys beyond through the gaps in the mountains. The cocktail of exhaustion and fear dashed away any wonderment he may have experienced at the view. Ishwa put a hand on his shoulder and steered him into the hall and the fear redoubled. At the hall's end was a set of doors three times his height and just as wide. A motif of four people was emblazoned on the dark grey metal.

Ishwa stepped forward and produced a bell from the folds of her coat. It made a chime that was almost immediately ripped away by the wind. An answering chime came from within and the doors slid apart with a mighty rumble that resonated through the floor.

"Step to the centre of the room," Ishwa instructed.

Claude nodded and took measured steps inside the circular room, holding his hands tight to his side to keep them from shaking. Carved onto the floor was a depiction of seven mountains in a circle, surrounded by symbols he did not understand. Said symbols climbed up the walls and swirled together in a pattern that reminded him of a bird in flight.

Seated around the room were seven people. Each occupied a chair on the elevated dias wide enough to lie down in. Their faces were adorned with gold dust, some with harsh lines that outlined their jawline, dots along their cheeks or a large swathe across their lips. They were all draped in heavy fabrics, yellows, oranges and reds so rich they almost hurt to look at. Not to mention the amount of jewellery.

But the one that held his attention the longest was the spitting image of Ashon. So much so, that Claude had to look behind him to make sure Ashon was still there. He was, but he seemed to have developed a sudden fascination with his cane.

The only other person he recognised was Celesta, who lay in her chair, elbow propped on the armrest and cheek resting on her palm, which set her apart from the stiff-backed elders who occupied the rest of the room. Each of them stared down at him, their gazes a mix of contempt and curiosity.

"Wait!" Footfalls came from the hall, and when Claude turned around, he saw his mother jog into the chamber. The doors rumbled shut behind her, snapping together with an ominous bang. Ashon went to Esther's side and put an arm around her shoulders while she took greedy gulps of air.

"Hmmm?" The man in the middle seat leaned forward and threaded his fingers together. He was tall, and greying but his face still held a youthful charm despite the lines under his eyes. His shoulder was draped in orange fabric that complimented the warm undertones of his skin. The many gold piercings on his face winked in the sunlight pouring through the windows.

"Esther," he said, his voice deep as distant thunder. "What is your interest in this hearing? Or is there another matter you wish to bring to our attention?"

"Forgive my intrusion, my King." She gestured towards Claude. "This is my son."

King... So, he was the one Claude needed to endear himself to.

A chorus of murmurs echoed through the chamber. The woman beside Rakki, breathed a laugh, and when she looked down at Claude, he felt as though the weight of a mountain was bearing down on him. "A son who is a priest. How embarrassing for you."

"I don't care who he is," the man beside Celesta said. He was the oldest and greyest in appearance, but Claude didn't dare think him frail, considering what he went through to get up to this room. "How did he get into this city? Why did Eryo let him in?"

Celesta waved her free hand. "Eryo didn't let him in. I did." Half a dozen pairs of accusing eyes turned on her, and the tension in the room grew to a suffocating degree.

Claude ducked his head. I'm dead. While he wanted to plead his case, speaking out of turn may earn him the Baraza's wrath. He was their enemy. They had every right and reason to send him away, or kill him.

"He came with the blessing of Octavia and Quintus," Celesta continued. "How could I not?"

Rakki leaned back and breathed a sigh through his nose. "Ancestor, usually I'd trust your wisdom on such matters, but this seems a tad reckless. What business would an agent of the Divine City have here other than our destruction?"

"Strong words from the person who invited the King of the Forbidden City here. If you want to know what his business is here, then ask him yourself."

He raised a hand. "Fair enough. Claude is it? The floor is yours."

"Thank you, your majesty," Claude said. Rakki seemed amused by the honorific, but didn't correct him. "First I would like to clarify that I'm no longer a Priest. I resigned in winter."

The woman beside Rakki scoffed. "They always use this excuse. Why are we entertaining this?"

"I gave him the floor Kalere. Let him speak," Rakki said.

Claude continued, "The Divine City was just a means to an end for me. I have no loyalty to the priesthood. The reason I joined was the same reason I left, to find my mother. That's why I came to your city. Well, that and to deliver a message from Viperstone."

The King raised an eyebrow. "It was you who brought the message from Viperstone? The one from Undine?"

"I fail to see how that's relevant, your Excellency," the Ashon double said.

"We've been waiting on word from Viperstone for weeks. It was of utmost importance that it got to us as quickly as possible. Undine could've easily sent it with a messenger, and yet she sent it with him. Why do you think that is?"

"Because she inherited your recklessness," Kalere said.

"Or perhaps..." Rakki shrugged. "...because she trusted him."

It took everything within Claude not to nod enthusiastically at the suggestion. He had no idea why Undine would trust him, but he'd believe anything if it meant he could leave this chamber in one piece,

"If I may speak," Esther said, her voice small. Rakki gave her a nod. "Please. He's been given patronage from Octavia and Quintus. Allow me to grant him mine as well. Would that be enough to spare him?"

Kelere scoffed. "I do not accept Octavia and Quintus' patronage, and you are even more biassed than them, Esther. Use your head. Son or not, he's the perfect little snake planted here by Marius and his cohort to ruin us from within. You know the lows they stoop to."

"He wouldn't do that," his mother insisted.

"And how can you be so sure," the Ashon double asked. "When was the last time you saw him? Spoke to him? Did you even know he was in the priesthood, Esther?"

Esther ducked her head and swallowed.

"And there it is," Kalere said. "You don't even know him. He would've lopped your head off if the prefects ordered him to, and here you are grovelling on his behalf."

"No!" His mother's voice was loud enough to reverberate through the chamber. A few members of the Baraza flinched as though struck.

"Esther..." Rakki warned.

She stepped forward until she was shoulder to shoulder with Claude. "I don't give a damn about your antiquated rules. I served this City faithfully from the moment I stepped through the mountain. You will not treat my son like this!"

The silence that followed was crushing. Claude swallowed. He should just give up now. If they didn't care if Octavia and Quintus vouched for him, then he had no other options.

Kalere fixed his mother with a hard stare. "I'd suggest you mind your tongue in our presence. Don't mistake your tenure for authority in this chamber, Esther. Ranks are given and they can be taken."

"You think I give a damn about some arbitrary rank?" Esther's voice rose over the wind and filled the chamber like thunder. Ashon put a hand on her arm, and whispered something to her, but it did nothing to quell her anger. "This is my family we're talking about."

"When you donned that uniform, you swore fealty to the Baraza, yet you're ready to betray us for this so-called son you've known for but a day. Had I known your devotion was this fickle, I would've sent you out of the city."

His mother exhaled a long sigh, then reached into her coat and pulled out a gold badge in the shape of a bell. "Then consider this my resignation."

Rakki raised a hand. "Let's all take a moment. I understand passions are high but there's no need to be rash."

"There's nothing rash about this. If the Baraza allows it, I will take Claude out of the city, we will go south to Izula. I will guard your secrets, ensure they never cross his lips or his pen. But I will never set foot back in this city, or act in its name."

"Ashon are you just going to let her do this?" his twin asked. "Think about your family, your daughters. They deserve better than this."

Ashon breathed a mirthless laugh. "You're in no position to sit there and lecture me about family."

"He's right," Claude interjected, his voice barely above a whisper. He put his hand on his mother's, over the little badge. "Don't do this. Don't sacrifice everything you built here for me."

"Claude—"

"I knew the risks when I came here. I accepted those risks."

"I will not mourn you again!" She grabbed onto him as though she alone was enough to shield him from the Baraza's judgement. "Please... don't make me fail you a second time."

His heart squeezed. He didn't want it to end here, like this, but he had far less to lose. She had two young children who needed her more than him. He pulled her into a hug. "You never failed me." He blanked back his tears. At least all the years of searching weren't in vain. He could rest easy knowing she was okay. And happy.

Claude held his mother at arm's length. "It's okay, really." He was lying. It was not okay. It was unfair, but he had to put on a brave face for her. He held her at arm's length, gave her the best smile he could muster, and turned away. "Please forgive my mother's disrespect. I will accept whatever judgement you levy."

"No you won't," Celesta said. "I trust Esther's judgement. I will vouch for him."

The Ashon clone gave her a sidelong stare. "That's still only one."

"No, that's three." Celesta reached behind her and produced the canister Claude had given her days ago. "You all assumed Claude walked in here with the blessing of two necromancers, when in reality he walked in with four." She uncapped the canister and pulled a rolled up piece of parchment from inside.

"From who?" Kalere asked.

"Amadeus and Undine."

Rakki leaned forward in his seat. "Undine? Amadeus? You must be mistaken, ancestor."

"See for yourself." Celesta passed him the page.

"Dearest Father, I must beg your attention on one more matter. The deliverer of this message. It is my understanding that Claude was Lady Octavia's only ally when she braved the scourge in Hedalda. He fought alongside us, and protected the medical supplies from the netherbourne. He treated the sick in Viperstone and watched over Amadeus while he was in purgatory. If this message reaches you intact, then he has proved himself worthy of our trust. In which case, you can consider this an endorsement from both myself and Amadeus. Should he step out of line, we will take full responsibility for his actions. Forever in your service. Lady Undine of Jua." Rakki worried the edge of the parchment. "You kept this from me. Why?"

Celesta scoffed. "I wanted Esther to see how much her years of service meant to you all. Kalere, did she not find your sister and her students when a mudslide trapped them in a mountain cave? Sefu, did she not run to your family's village to fight off the scourge there? Has she not trained countless necromancers who are out there fighting the netherborne?"

She tossed the canister at her feet. "In this chamber, you all purport that you care so much about your necromancers, yet when it's time to demonstrate that care, this is what we get. Esther has done so much for this city, yet you wouldn't even let her vouch for her own son. I have never been more ashamed to be a part of this number."

Claude only heard half of what she said over the blaring of his heart. Amadeus and Undine vouched for him? While he didn't know the risks involved in that, it seemed like a weighty decision to these people. And if it saved his life, he would be forever indebted to them. All that fighting had been done out of necessity. He didn't think it would mean anything to them, certainly not enough to stick their necks out for him.

Kelere breathed a sigh through her nose. "Esther knows how much I appreciate her contributions. I've expressed as much on numerous occasions."

"You were sitting there, foaming at the mouth like a rabid Paterra, ready to take her son's head," Celesta said, deadpan.

"I cannot abide Priests, former or not. I will always put the safety of this city above all else, as is my duty."

"Be that as it may," Rakki interjected. "I must act based on this new information."

Claude felt his mother's hand link with his and she squeezed so hard he thought his fingers might break. He swallowed. They could still say no, send him out of the city. Or worse.

"Two years. I will grant him two years of asylum. We will reconvene in such time and go from there. Esther, Ashon, I leave him in your capable hands. I'm sure you're both aware of what will happen should he step out of line. He is not allowed to leave the city, and all correspondences he sends or receives will be screened by the appropriate authorities. To those outside this room, he will be known as a spy who spent years in the priesthood gathering intel for us. That is my decision."

Relief washed over Claude like cool water after days in the sun. "Thank you, your Excellency. I'll do my best to prove myself worthy of your grace."

"How polite." Rakki waved a hand to the door. "Go, be with your family."