Kymalin growled into Xanthy's ear. "What do you want with me?"

This witch caused so many of her problems. This...hag dared show her face? Would Xanthy mock her and claim Kymalin deserved it? Xanthy planted her foot on Kymalin's stomach. She flew a few distance backward, her heels slamming against the earthen wall. Black spots danced in her vision as she coughed. Xanthy picked herself up from the ground and regarded Kymalin.

Kymalin put her arms in front of her face, lowering herself into a lunging stance. That's the first thing her first trainer in Cardovia taught her. If faced with an enemy whose back was to the exit, defend yourself first.

Instead of acknowledging Kymalin's apparent aggression, Xanthy threw her arms up. "Look, I don't mean any harm."

Kymalin narrowed her eyes and dropped lower into her stance. "What are you doing here?" she said. "How did you get past the guards?"

"What are you doing here?" Xanthy fixed the bow slung across her shoulder and picked at the arrow tail jutting from the quiver by her waist. "Why did the Heiress ditch you?"

That question drove a snarl off Kymalin. She didn't need to be reminded of her failure by the person who caused it. "None of your business," she said. "Tell me one thing that's going to stop me from killing you."

Xanthy frowned. She wasn't impressed. Kymalin expected the girl to do her Virtakios magic but nothing happened. Kymalin also had the perfect window to attack again but this time, she found herself frozen on the spot. Has that been Xanthy? Didn't look like it.

Kymalin's hesitating. Which was surprising since she rarely ever hesitated. But now... "How did you find me?" she didn't rise from her stance. "Are you here to exact vengeance?"

Xanthy snorted. "Vengeance? Oh, I wish," she chuckled a little. Who in their right mind would find amusement in a time like this? "The others will be surprised and probably angry when they see you. No, I didn't come here to get revenge. I came here to save you."

Kymalin blinked. "What?" Her arms dropped to her sides. What's going on?

"I'm willing to forgo every bad thing you've done to me and my friends if you help us now," Xanthy stepped closer.

"Help you?" Kymalin knitted her eyebrows. "What makes you think I'll help you?"

Xanthy glanced at the ceiling. "Well, will it be better if you just die here?" she said. "As much as I want to leave you out here to rot, I have to take a chance to convince you to come with me. I have a plan."

"A plan to what?"

Xanthy pursed her lips.

"A plan to what, Xanthy?" Kymalin prodded.

The Virtakios flinched before scratching her arm through her long-sleeved tunic. "A plan to even out our game against the Heiress and the Sovereign," she said. "I can't do it without you, Kym."

Her stomach clenched. Kym. That infernal name Reeca had come up for her. It's also the infernal name that her mother called her. Why must Xanthy add to that? Where did she even get that? "What are you planning to do?" she said.

Xanthy glanced behind her. "Not here," her tone had dropped in an urgent hiss. Since when has the brownie been able to use that tone? "Will you help us?"

Kymalin chewed on her lip. There was nothing waiting for her here. She couldn't help anyone from here and she certainly wouldn't be any closer to finding a cure for her brother's sickness if she stayed. Besides, for once, she felt like she was needed. Like, she's...important.

For once, Kymalin didn't feel like she was being used. She had a choice and Xanthy had been freely giving her the freedom to do so. She might have not found a cure from her escapades with the Heiress but she may have found another chance with the Virtakios. "I have one condition," Kymalin started.

Xanthy's frown told Kymalin the Virtakios was in a mood for negotiation. "What is it?"

Kymalin raised her eyes to Xanthy's and steeled her nerves. "Heal my brother."

Heal her brother? Xanthy held in a snort. "I'm not a doctor," she said.

Kymalin massaged her temples. "No," she sighed. The banshee sounded tired. "I mean, use the Virtakios to heal him. We've tried everything. I have tried everything except your magic. Please."

Xanthy raised an eyebrow. Kymalin saying please? This must be her lucky day. What Ezril told her back then flashed into her mind. Save her. The High Priestess had said. Perhaps, this was merely Xanthy trying to fulfill that promise. She extended her hand towards the banshee. "Deal," she said. "I help you. You help me."

Kymalin took her hand. It was dry and scratchy against Xanthy's palm. "Deal."

That's when a large man stepped into the room, brandishing an axe with a head as large as Xanthy's satchel. Dear gods...

"Xanthy, look out!" Kymalin yelled out a little too late as the man lunged for Xanthy.

Xanthy meant to dodge, dropping to a crouch and rolling to one side. Beefy hands caught the ends of her long, unruly hair. Her scalp exploded in pain as he yanked her backwards. She slid against the floor, her rear scratching a trench along the ground's earthen floor. Tears stung her eyes as her head felt like it's being removed from her neck. What's with this man? She tried summoning her magic but it wouldn't come. Really? Magic-suppression? Now?

The man dragged her back, out of Kymalin's cell. He had the gate to the cell open. Good.

Kymalin, meanwhile, scampered towards them. She yelled at the big man to let go of Xanthy. The banshee was probably doing a dent the size of a seed. True enough, the man was only focused on Xanthy. Damn it. She should have worn a mask or something. Now the whole world's going to know the Virtakios just stormed the infamous prison. Just great. She needed to fix this up.

Tears lined her cheeks as she threw her hand backward and tried to dislodge the man's grip from her hair. It wouldn't budge. Ugh. Her vision darkened. Her chest constricted. Just a little more. Her upper body made it out of the cell.

She struck.

If striking meant sending the magic to her head and letting it explode to the man's hands through her hair, then yeah, she struck. Magic curled from her locks and was enough to stun the man into letting go of her hair.

Her back slammed into the earth, choking the air out of her lungs. She rolled to one side and while the man examined his hand for what hit him, Xanthy lunged and rammed her wrist against the man's ankle, complimenting it with a stun spell.

The man roared as he stumbled. He didn't get to finish as he slammed straight into Xanthy's waiting hand, a sleep spell already thick on her lips. A loud and soulful thud ensued as the man fell unconscious beside Xanthy.

The prisoners from the other cells were now glued to their cell gates, gaping wide-eyed at the action that just happened. Their mouths were stuck in a big circle. Xanthy coughed and pulled herself up, doing her best to cover her face. She turned to Kymalin who was just coming to help with a root she pried from elsewhere.

"Oh," Kymalin lowered the branch as she came upon the sleeping man. "Is he dead?"

Xanthy dusted her trousers. "No, he's bound to wake soon," she jerked her chin in the direction of the prison's entrance. "Let's get out of here."

"How?"

Xanthy just smiled and offered the banshee her hand. "Here."

As soon as the banshee took her hand, the world around them surged, folded, and winked out of existence.

Only to drop them straight into a crossfire.

Xanthy barely got her bearings back when someone yanked her to the ground. Her cheek hit the shack's wooden floor as something pushed her down. "What—?"

"Stay on the ground," June hissed at her ear. "Marthiaq is keeping Kymalin contained. Ariden and the others are looking for a way to get us out of here alive and not poacher-food."

Xanthy winced. Perhaps, she's gone too long. "Did they get the throne?"

"The one and only. Ariden has it. He's coming with us to Penleth, by the way," June's head was inclined to observe something through the slits of the wooden walls.

"How did they even find us?" Lufi hissed as she drew a dagger from its scabbard by her belt. "This is one of our most hidden strongholds."

"Is this because we stole the throne?" Faw's calm voice bore no signs of agitation. She plucked two or three accessories from her hair.

The sound of Rhys's sword being drawn from its sheath rang in the air. "No," he pressed himself next to Seravel who had his hand on fire, ready to lob it to the next person who emerged from the shack's only door.

The shack shook as bullets rang outside. The same bullets which exploded when they found a surface now rammed against the shack, not once, not twice but about a hundred times more.

"Why aren't we exploding?" Xanthy screamed at no one.

"Well, perhaps the gods have had mercy on us, for once!" Rhys shouted back, eyeing the ceiling that shook along with the structure. So, Xanthy should bet the ceiling would fall into their heads first.

Xanthy turned to her friends. "We need to ditch," she called. There's still time to plan. "June and I will go to Dwanzeig to meet Jonadrin. You guys travel to Penleth."

Ariden's boots scratched against the floor as he took a step back from a wall close to collapsing. A few more bullets and they'd be exposed. "How will we even get past the border?" he asked.

"We'll figure it out," Marthiaq yelled over the noise of explosions.

Xanthy yanked an arrow from her quiver and passed it to Kymalin who sat against the hearth with her hands bound efficiently. She would have to have a word with Marthiaq about this. The banshee grasped the arrow. "Show Reeca and the others that," Xanthy said. "They will probably not kill you on sight if you have that from me."

The banshee was pale but she nodded. Good.

Xanthy turned to June. "Dwanzeig?"

"Fine." June's tone was clipped. Alert.

That would do.

"I'm going to provide cover for you all," Xanthy said in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear. "Run to the forest as we distract them. You all need to get into Penleth immediately. And please, arrive alive."

She didn't wait for everyone to agree. Her magic swelled inside of her. The Virtakios crackled and sang. Xanthy took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and unleashed her synnavaim. Explosions turned deafening. Lights tore her vision into a white blanket. Startled screams reached her ears and she wasn't quite sure who they belonged to. More. Her friends must be able to escape. More.

She felt her feet rise from the ground as her magic raged. With the Arbotro in her mind, it would be able to stop her if this turns into a rampage. Her vision burned and her muscles strained. More.

"Xanthy!" June was calling. "Enough!"

Enough? No. More. Magic poured off her like Ganaraim, pushing against useless bullets as they exploded before they even left their barrels. More. These men didn't deserve any hint of mercy. More.

Okay, that's enough. The Arbotro's voice speared through Xanthy's mind and her body slammed back into the ground. She crashed against June. They stumbled back with Xanthy pressed to his chest. Then, something flashed from Xanthy's periphery. Her scream hitched at her throat as a bullet soared for them. No!

The next thing she knew, her face was planted against silt.

She groaned. That's the third time she went on a sirtya trip in the past two days. Her head throbbed and her chest felt like it was crushed to bits. Her arms were useless—a dead-weight hanging by her shoulders. Crap. That's how she felt. This was the worst.

"H-hi," a small voice said from somewhere. "Welcome to Desara."

Xanthy gave up fighting to raise her head from the sandy soil and just flopped against the sand cushioning her form. June would help her up. Wherever they were. Sleep. She needed to sleep. Her eyes closed without her permission and she drowned in the bland darkness reminiscent of the Realm of the Lost.