Ama makes to go inside the portal, believing herself to be done with our unappealing business. She has a look of relief on her face, and her movements are anxious to go back to the guild. I suppose that the real Xan is still waiting for her, and I'm not entirely sure how she feels about Rhys/Xan. 

"Well, I'll be on my—," Ama starts before Fox cuts her off.

"Ama, you'll be going with Professor Dirt."

"What?"

"The kid isn't supposed to leave your sight, remember?" I intervene. "They'll never fall for it if they see the kid but not you."

"That's true," Eldrin says with a nod. "You gotta act like you don't know a thing, either."

I glance, then look away from the silent Abasi. It doesn't matter, really. It's not like I'm going to see him again once I'm done with this. Then again, why am I here, exactly? I could have left after the mission with Dolan, right? So wasn't I here because--

No.

I'm still doing this because it would have been wrong if I had left. After a failure like that, how could I ever tell myself that I'd earned this relieve? I owe my life to Fox, Ama, Kane, Abasi, Abasi's gods, and Kane especially. If anything, I'm merely paying them back and making up for failing my mission.

So let Abasi remain silent. 

People are better this way, anyway.

"Oh, it's these kinds of jobs." Ama runs a tired hand through her flaming red hair. "I'll be back. I have to get my weapons. They'll suspect something if I'm unarmed, and also, I think I need my rapier."

Her tone of voice makes me wonder again how often these sort of things occur.  It feels as if I'm on the brink of something mysterious and magical, and yet I know that I'm not included in it. I feel like a stranger, and I fathom how queer it is that it's only now that I remember that I am one. 

It makes me want to bang my head against a tree.

It's a painful thing--forgetting, even for a few minutes, what you are and then letting it clap you upside the head mockingly once you've allowed yourself to loosen and lower your guard. If I'm going to forget that I'm scum, then I don't want to ever remember it again. But since that's not going to happen, I'm better off remembering and reminding myself so that it never gets the jump on me.

I turn away from everyone and focus on Rhys, my main reminder. I look a him, expecting to be reprimanded and retold what I am in the form of a cloned child, and instead am offered a heinous view of him with a finger in his ear.

"Rhys, can you pretend to be a little more innocent?" I ask, more than bothered by his manner. There's something about leaning on a tree and cleaning an ear with a pinky finger that doesn't fully match the image of a six-year-old child. 

Rhys looks at me boredly, and his cold gaze doesn't belong in those large, mismatched eyes. "I'm not doing it yet. I can wait." He yawns, uncaring of the fact that his voice is too sullen to be attributed to even the moodiest of children.

My eye twitches as I try to keep my face level. With Rhys, you betray nothing. "Still, it's quite unnerving." 

He offers no other response but an unconcerned shrug.

. . . Well, then. Perhaps speaking with Rhys wasn't such a good idea, and definitely not an appealing prospect. So I turn to Eldrin instead, semi-aware of Ama coming back from the guild through the portal behind me. "May I ask how you came to possess a Thurisaz rune? They are more powerful than they are common."

"Honestly, he might've found it in the Book of Silny, or out of pure luck." Fox leans against a tree next to my Bind. With him and Rhys side-to-side, it's like looking at a badly doctored photograph. "I've heard that the rune comes to people it wants to go to."

I can't keep my eyebrows from raising, and Rhys and I share a knowing glance. He gives his head a small shake; I am not to betray the truth. "I got the Dagaz rune when I left Nidavellir. It was given to me as payment for a favor." Not quite a lie, if taking Rhys with me out of prison counts as a favor. "Luck had nothing to do with it, so I doubt your assumption is true in Eldrin's case."

"I only have a few runes, and luck had to do with three of them."

"That explains a lot," Rhys remarks in Xan's voice, taking his finger out of his ear and sticking it into his nose.

Rhys, don't do that when you're disguised as his son! My mortification comes out as a hiss, but he doesn't give any sign of listening. Rhys has no problems ignoring me, but he raises a great, spitting fuss whenever I speak out against or ignore him. 

"And no picking your nose." Fox slaps Rhys's hand from his face, inducing an expression of shock from the snake in Xan's skin. I expect it's been a long time since anyone's dared to do anything like that to him, and I push down a smirk of satisfaction. "You can do that when you shapeshift into Ama or Severin," Fox continues with a smirk.

"Don't listen to him," Ama says with a glare at Fox, who only grins wider.

Rhys gives Fox a withering look and raises his hand to make an obscene gesture. Fox responds by raising his hands in mock surrender, amusement sparking in his scarlet eyes. I have to work harder to hide my own hilarity; Rhys is a lot less intimidating when he looks like a six-year-old boy.

Eldrin doesn't hide his chuckle, inspiring more dirty looks from the aggravated Rhys. "The rune was given to me by a friend a long time ago. I have a better one made, so. . . yeah."

Friends seem pretty useful, if they give you things such as Agi Runes. I wouldn't know, and Rhys insists the contrary, but that's how it appears to me. I look at Abasi with new respect, since he's made a good amount of useful friends with even more useful appliances. "As I said before, you know a lot of useful acquaintances. You really get around."

He shrugs a reply. "Like I said earlier, I have helped and received help from many in my journeys."

'Helped and received help from many?' I don't believe that I quite understand, but I don't ask for an explanation. Maybe it's something like a contract, or calling in favors. But that involves a lot of trust that I don't have left to spare, so maybe I'm better off doing what I usually do with Rhys.

Speaking of which. . . 

"Rhys, you won't have those hands for much longer if you keep that up," I scold him. First picking his orifices, then, erm, 'The Bird'. It doesn't make me very eager for the next time he has hands. For someone whose greatest desire is a set of limbs, he misuses them the first chance he gets.

He doesn't seem as concerned about that as I am, and he raises his hands again. His fingers twist in a sign language he taught me, for when he's in human form he is unable to use the Serpent Tongue.

You're just embarrassed because of HIM.

For several seconds, I'm too horrified to respond. I must come to my senses. He's doing what he always does, simply reminding me that he is the one who governs me. The discernment riles me, and my fists clench. I didn't escape prison to be ruled by a limbless, two-and-a-half-foot-long snake. I'm semi-snake, more human than he'll ever be. So I respond with fury and hand signs of my own: Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

"Who's 'him'?" inquires Fox with a smirk and a snicker. I look from him to Rhys and back, realizing with slow-to-come appall that he was able to read the sign language. 

From the look on Rhys's face, he knew it the entire time and was fooling me into believing that our conversation was private. Eldrin rolls his eyes, confirming that he'd understood it as well. Only Abasi looks slightly confused, which is of some relief, at least.

I swallow nervously while scowling at Rhys, who picks his nails nonchalantly. Rhys and I are a special type of friends, not quite the kind that Abasi has. At least he seems to get along with Eldrin and Kane. Rhys and I know each other inside and out, from the looks in our eyes to our teamwork in battle. But that doesn't necessarily mean that we like each other--not in the least bit. If we share anything, then it's the spirit of our envy. We infuriate each other, but I know the secrets he keeps, and Rhys knows mine.

And he knows full well who the 'him' is, just by looking at me.

"There is no 'him'," I insist to the onlookers, glancing at Rhys. I add snidely, "Rhys just gets jealous when he uses the rune. I expect that it's the human nature."

"Xan is six. I don't think he's jealous of anything," Fox replies with an eye roll.

"Sure, whatever," Rhys cuts in, stepping away from the tree and looking up at the sky. "I think it's time now, anyway."

I follow his gaze to where the sky meets the exhausted sun, now sinking lower and yawning weary shades of yellow and orange into the hanging clouds. He's right. It's the first edge of dusk, and the larger predators will be slinking out of their hiding places. The time is ripe.

"Where are we going, anyway?" questions Ama.

"Eldrin?" I address him without drawing my sight back from the sky. "You know this place better than we do, and you can even stay ahead of the witchhunters. Where do we go now?"

"I happen to know that they have set up camp here," he responds while summoning an illusion of a map. He prods the area in question with his forefinger, showing Fox several points around it. "We can ambush wherever you prefer, but the best way would be to have Rhys--as Xan--and Ama wander there and be captured. I will track and break you out with Abasi's help, and then we can finish them off."

"And Rhys," Ama says, and his head raises at the sound of his name. "You have to call me 'Ma'."

If Rhys finds that strange (or demeaning), he doesn't say so. "Sure thing, Ma." He goes over to her and wraps his small hand around her long, swordplay-callused fingers, widening his eyes in feigned innocence.

An actor, that Rhys.

"And I assume that you, Abasi, and I will be following in the shadows?" I ask Eldrin in confirmation.

He nods. "Yep. Once they take 'em to headquarters, they'll be as good as dead."

Fox slinks away through the door hanging in midair, and it vanishes soon after he closes it. I guess Fox is serious about not wanting to be involved.

"Um, Rhys? Are you okay?"

Ama's question has my head swiveling on my neck, eyes wide and brows raised. What was wrong with Rhys? Did he get his finger stuck up his nose? I think bitterly. I'm not very sympathetic when it comes to Rhys. After all, I'm the one who has to deal with his pain. He has the easier end of the bargain.

"I'm fine, Ma," he tells her before looking directly at me. There's an intense look in his eyes that I've never seen before. "Please." He tells me. He pleads.

Have I seen anything other than contempt and bitterness from him? I don't recall. Perhaps human nature does have an effect on the cloned snake, since I also don't remember ever hearing the word 'please' from him. I watch Ama and Rhys speak to each other in low tones, aghast. Rhys blushes and sticks his bottom lip out as if pouting, causing my jaw to drop. In this moment, Rhys looks--he looks--

Human.

The sound of an opening Rift brings me back to the waking world, and I turn to Eldrin just in time to see him disappear.

"Let's get a move on," Eldrin's disembodied voice calls out.

I turn my back on Rhys, who for some reason isn't acting like Rhys, and I jump through the portal without looking back. I stumble as I land on the other side, but retain my balance well enough to put my weight on my good foot. I'm confused at first, thinking that I would be teleported, but I look down at my hands and find that I can't see them. I look all about me, wondering at how my invisible feet crush the grass and stir the wind, and yet give off no scent. So it was a Cloaking Rift and not a Teleportation Rift.

I have definitely underestimated Eldrin.

I look up, excited like a child before remembering that I'm on a mission. I look around in near panic, afraid that I wouldn't detect the others and be left behind, before I see the grass crushed as if by a pair of invisible sets of feet that I realize are Abasi and Eldrin. I follow them, sliding my bad foot around littered twigs and dry leaves so that I make as little noise as possible. We're a safe distance away from Ama, Rhys, and the book, watching from afar and waiting as we follow them silently.

I swallow, jitters speeding my heart rate. I try not to dwell on the fact that I've never been part of an ambush, or that I haven't known these people very long. Skulking in the shadows and waiting out opponents is just. . . different. Not different in a bad way, but something that would take getting used to. I allow my tongue to flicker in the air to taste for scents, just so that I'd have something to do. My muscles are tense, and I force my shoulders down to relax as I focus on walking without sound.

My tongue takes the taste back into my mouth, and I whisper to the imprints in the grass. "I'm getting a reading on some sentient life, but not magic. Think that's them, Eldrin?" I don't hear an answer, and I shuffle uncomfortably on my feet, feeling more out of place than ever. My bad foot barely hits the ground when a shudder skitters up my spine. 

"They're coming."

As if Ama felt the same thing I did, she grabs Rhys's hand and starts to drag him in a random direction, the book under her arm. A shadow sweeps by them, then others as they begin to circle them. Ama moves the book under her other arm, Rhys clinging to it for dear life, and draws her rapier as if to defend herself. The shadows stop for a terse moment, and I still my breath for fear of making noise.

The shadows spring at them, revealing themselves to be masked figures with long, trailing cloaks. They draw out bloodred beads with gloved hands, chanting words that bounce off of my mind when I try to listen. Ama doesn't wait for them to finish, and lunges at one of them with her rapier and spearing him in the chest. But if the rest of the witchhunters care about their fallen comrade, they don't indicate it. The beads grow, enveloping Ama and Rhys and imprisoning them in giant, translucent red bubbles that combine to form a single giant sphere.

I gape, then taste the air again. If this isn't magic, then I'm fully human. But I don't smell even a whiff of thaumaturgy. "Still no magic. . . " I mutter to myself thoughtfully. There was no doubt that this was supernatural. But why can't I sense it? Is there something wrong with me?

"Okay, plan is in action," Eldrin's voice says somewhere to my left.

I motion for Eldrin and Abasi to follow, forgetting that they can't see me. Maybe Eldrin can, since he's strong with illusionary magic and this is his spell. Rhys definitely can't see me, since he's screaming inside the bubble and beating his fists against it. I wince as my head begins to throb, but it digresses as soon as it came.

I watch the 'captives' attack the inside of the bubble, unable to cast away the instinct that tells me that something is terribly wrong. "Abasi, do you know anything about this type of. . . whatever this is?"

"Yep, that's Egyptian magic for sure." His voice comes from directly behind me, and I jump, startled. "I would take it down, but we need to wait," he says calmly, as if he can sense my impatience.

Somehow I feel reassured, and I take a deep breath before following the floating sphere. I don't risk shifting, since I'm going to need my limbs soon. Our approach brings us nearer to the mountains, and the shadows now span my whole range of view. The sunlight behind us is but a sliver now, and I'm forced to squint to be able to see the outline of the bubble. There's a deep crevice in the mountains, as if a jotunn had taken it and cracked it over his knee before putting it back. I hang back as the bubble floats in, before forcing my limbs to move and go behind it into the crevice.

"Just don't freak out, and we won't die," comes Ama's voice from inside the bubble.

"WE'RE GOING TO DIE!" Rhys screams.

I can barely see either of them, so I blink excessively, wanting my eyes to adjust quickly. It doesn't really help, but keeping so still while in the enemy's lair makes me skittish. My eyes aren't to be rushed, and adjust at their usual pace as a tall figure in a black cloak approaches an identical figure in yet another black cloak.

"Sir, we have captured them. They just so happened to explore this area." The figure laughs at the 'captives's' supposed stupidity.

"Ooh, black cloaks. Ominous." Sarcasm drips from Ama's voice. "Do you wear the mask because you're emo or because you're ugly?"

The bubble separates into two, separating a frantic Rhys from Ama. His face is screwed up with pain, and he throws himself at the walls of the bubble. His screams are dulled by whatever magic it is made of, and my teeth clench. I can once again grasp how much Rhys depends on me to shoulder his pain.

The witchhunter that seems to be in charge speaks again. "Kill the girl, we have no use for her. But keep it outside." He waves his hand dismissively as one figure flicks his hand at the bubble holding Ama. The bubble obediently follows him, taking the assassin with him out of the cave.

I turn in haste, about to go after the witchhunter holding Ama. Two steps later, I see the bubble pop and Ama stiffen as if paralyzed. Three steps, and Eldrin materializes, using magic to slowly crush the offending witchhunter. My shoulders go limp with relief. As Eldrin materializes, so do I, as if his release of the spell triggered the illusion over the rest of us. 

"Your call, warlock," I mutter as I turn back to the witchhunters in the cave.

Rhys howls as his bubble is popped, landing on all fours like a feral creature. He shakes, snarling at the witchhunters with malice that twists the child's face. He throws out an arm to the side, and the earth relinquishes its power to him. Wood sprouts from the floor of the cave, growing into a long knife with a handle made of thin vines. Rhys plucks it from the ground, rushing at one of the witchhunters and slashing without mercy.

"Rhys, don't--!" Ama runs back into the cave with her rapier, going after Rhys before he accidentally kills himself. Which is entirely possible, if the Brand is weakening and I can't feel his pain.

I try to follow before being thrown back by a burst of wind. I cry out as my side hits the mountain's wall before sliding down and thudding to the ground. I roll to my knees and spit out blood, rubbing my stinging jaw as I glare at the black-cloaked witchhunter. I hope Ama reaches Rhys, because this guy is going to be keeping me busy.

Another blast of wind sends me sailing through the air, giving me a good view of the other battles. Few of our enemies are already down, and Abasi is fighting the leader with a broken staff. Eldrin is outnumbered and backed up against the wall as he sends spell after spell at the witchhunters. 

I land on my front, a loud crack causing an explosion in my chest. I look up to see the witchhunter in front of me, an arm raised and a large red sphere ready to crush me. I thrust out my staff and deploy a long, white snake spine from the end. It wraps around the figure's ankle just as the sphere comes down on my head. I roll out of the way, adrenaline giving me  a burst of strength as I yank the witchhunter into his own weapon's path.

The sphere slams into him, barely a hair away from my head. I stumble to my feet, my heavy breaths ramming spears into my side. I stand with my staff in my hand as the bubble bursts, leaving only the crushed figure in black.

I turn around when I hear an enraged cry, and another sphere is sent at my head. I duck, Rhys's words in my ears as I shift, shift back, and swing my staff at the figure's head. The numbness slows my movements but dulls the pain, and I'm able to focus more sharply on the battle. My mind slips, and half of it gives in to instinct as my movements become automatic dodges, sidesteps, and swings.

From the corner of my eye I see Abasi, and I nearly drop my staff. His own staff is snapped in two, but he holds each half in his hands, sweeping at the head witchhunter like a whirlwind come to life. Not a whirlwind--a wildfire. His stone-gray eyes are ignited with life, light like the leaping sparks of flint stones as he moves with the swiftness of a desert wind, parrying the leader's sword and slashing at his face with one of the splintered ends of his staff. There's a smirk on his face as he steps closer to his opponent, his weapons moving faster.

I feel like I'm saying this all wrong. But it's true. If I only had words with meaning or measure enough to explain, describe, perhaps even define the spectacle before my ungracious eyes—perhaps they would be the most powerful words I could ever speak. The most sacred thoughts I could ever think. The greatest feeling I've endured thus far—this is it, whatever it may be. I can feel it roiling inside, filling me and then overflowing.

I lose all connection with the ground beneath my two feet, crippled and otherwise, my eyes both drawn to the sight and ensnared by it. I don't know why I can't look away. I'm trying—the gods know I'm trying—but... I can't.

While Abasi corners the leader, Ama swoops in for the final blow. She jumps at the wall and rebounds, her rapier hitting the leader right through the neck right as his sword slides over Abasi's broken staff. Bypassing Abasi's parry, the head of the witchhunters stabs Abasi in the chest.

I don't move, and cold washes over me. I'm a statue of ice as I watch Abasi cough once, blood trickling down the corner of his mouth. He looks down as if surprised to see a sword handle sticking out of his chest. He falls over, the smirk never leaving his face and the light in his eyes continuing to flare.

His eyes, stars.

Stars, falling out of the sky. 

Leaving me in darkness.