"We're going to go in there, tear down the Divinis, expose his evils to the world." Freckles paced, energy bouncing off him. He began to pull off his armor. He had to get dressed for the dance too.

"You could sound less excited." Osoro's eyes followed him like an irritated cat.

"Oh, it bothers you that we're going to arrest your friend? Sad there's going to be fewer parties?"

"I regret, yes, but because the city needs him. And when they discover his indiscretion with the Giant—"

"Then they'll discover the true crime, finally," Freckles said. "It's time innocents stopped dying!"

"Up until now, less innocents have died by us not acting on the sacrifices. But it seems that the lack of punishment has emboldened the Divinis, and now all of Blythe is at risk." Osoro sounded like he was convincing himself again. He wasn't fully on board with this plan even as he buttoned up his lacy undershirt.

"Sacrifices? Who was the Divinis killing before?" I asked, admiring myself in the mirror in spite of the serious circumstances. So this is what I'd look like with magic. I was fine.

"You don't need to know that," Osoro said, standing.

"You might as well tell him. The Divinis will be arrested and charged either way, and it is his fault you've finally been moved to take action." Freckles' pauldrons hit the ground as he snapped them off. They echoed, and I felt the metallic ringing in my teeth.

"If the people find out what we've been ignoring, they will not only lose the Divinis and Winsor, but all trust in us as an institution. The price is too great," Osoro argued. "We will arrest him, but only official channels need know."

"Only officials? Like who, the Arcana Agents who are in on it? Or the BROS? For justice to work, everyone needs to know the truth. It makes you sick to admit what you've been witness too!" Freckles addressed me now. I lowered my hands from the sides of my head where they'd been keeping the ringing of the metal out. "The Divinis kills to keep his boy alive."

"What?" Those words seemed sudden. Maybe it was the ringing in my ears...

"Be silent!" Osoro pleaded. "You're only making things more complicated!"

"What, afraid to strike me because you know I am saying what is right? You know if you force me to stop, you will lose your powers for assisting in a great evil?" Freckles sneered.

"If I haven't lost them yet, then obviously what I have been doing is in the interest of the greater good!"

Freckles shook his head in disgust.

"Winsor died on Bernard and Azeria's wedding day. Not nearly died. He did die," Freckles said. "Bernard ran away from the wedding. Winsor chased him. He caught up right before Bernard reached the teleporter cage, and they fought. Winsor died by the teleporter cage when Bernard shoved him into it while casting. The teleporter cage had a reaction, and Winsor was left nothing but a smoking husk. Bernard fled. Winsor's mother, Naobe, had been chasing the boys to stop their fighting. She acted instantly. She used her powers to keep Winsor's soul tethered to the teleporter cage long enough for her husband to get there. A neutral action, not good or bad. But then, when Wenrick was there, she saw the crowd of gawking townspeople, and ..." Freckles stopped speaking. He grew thoughtful, then continued. "Magic is inherently a process of loss. To sustain one body takes a dozen, as it takes so many beasts and birds and plants to keep us from starving. To restore, even more. She cast, and the energy and materials of the bodies standing around were siphoned and stitched to the lingering soul."

"What? But Winsor's mom was an Avalon—"

"Yes, she lost her powers that moment. The father finished up the rituals. Winsor was kept hidden away for weeks afterwards. Of course, we didn't know anything about it, but whenever an Avalon loses their powers permanently, another team is sent by the Avalon Academy to see what happened. We should have come, found out about the initial murders, arrested ex-Avalon Naobe and the Divinis, put Winsor out of his misery, and gone back to the Academy."

"But... you didn't," I said. My knees felt weak as I regarded Osoro. He really could have let me get killed last night. No one would have ever known what happened to me. It was only by luck, by a thin sliver of his merciful mood, that I had escaped the manor before.

"Azark, you must understand. It is not like if you murdered people. She was an Avalon. I knew her heart had to have been in the right place, and it was only the irrationality of a mother that made her act so," Osoro said between me and Freckles. His enchanted skin was ashen with shame, and yet, he must be telling the truth, because it stayed smooth. "What they did was deplorable, but who doesn't act rashly when the life of their child is at stake? I've seen parents run back into burning building, even though they've five children already safe and only one at risk. I've watched those parents die, creating five orphans where if only rationality had played into it, there would have been none. I have seen parents fight with the Enchanted over the honor of their daughters, costing the entire family hunger and homelessness. Parents are not rational when their children are under threat."

"Isn't there a difference between putting yourself at risk and killing others?" I said. "The Divinis had no right to do what he did. I don't understand how your powers are still intact."

"You yourself sold fakes and frauds and wiped out countless life savings to feed and clothe yourself. It is rich for you to claim you do not understand the logic of Winsor's parents. I am not happy with what happened—"

"But willing to excuse it!" Freckles said. "And you continued to excuse it when you found out that the sacrifices weren't enough, that to keep him alive, he had to eat life energy like we eat bread!"

"If Winsor had not had magic, I never would have allowed it, but he does more good to the people alive than dead! The people in the neighboring towns are jealous of Blythe's crops, lack of disease, and good fortune. That is the direct result of me allowing the Reglars to stay here."

"Wait, slow down." I held up my hands. "Winsor eats life energy? He's what, a cannibal?" My stomach twisted. Is that why Osoro thought Winsor and a Moon Giant would make a good pair? I had started to feel comfortable in spite of myself around Winsor. Nature had a way of warning you when something was dangerous, and I had been ignoring my instincts.

"Not exactly, it's more abstract, no peppered hearts or salted spleens," Freckles laughed bitterly.

"Winsor doesn't know. No bodies involved. His father takes the energy from the person sacrificed and mixes it into a potion Winsor drinks daily. Winsor knows he's sick but thinks the potions rare because of exotic herbs and a long preparation time. If he had any idea—" Osoro's voice trembled with true pity, despite his dislike of Winsor. "I think... I think it would destroy him."

"And all the better! He's a monstrous abomination!" Freckles cried.

"And if he is? He is still a sorcerer, a thousand times more valuable than you or I! And when he inherits Blythe, he will learn how to maintain and care for its citizens—"

"While killing them to sustain his own life—"

"It is a sad fact anyone had to die—"

"Not a fact, a choice! A choice you made to shake the blood soaked hand of a pair of murderers—"

"I'd rather it be a few preselected, unskilled, burdensome children of families that can't afford them anyway that die a year, than the dozens, perhaps hundreds, that would perish when the crops began to fail and disease found its way past the city walls," Osoro said. "And let's not forget that the Divinis might produce another sorcerer that could go help another city. And..." His voice grew personal again. " If... now... that the truth is revealed, Bernard could be imprisoned for life. He'll never have an heir if it is discovered that he had actually slaughtered Winsor that day. We should ration the truth carefully this time, Sir Fayd. "

I kept it to myself that I didn't think Bernard was particularly inclined toward activities that would lead to an heir, if I understood the natural processes of pregnancy correctly. Maybe it was different for sorcerers.

"But you'll help me now, right?" I asked, edging my way in between their squabble.

"Yes," Osoro and Freckles both said. They glowered at each other before Osoro relented and stepped up to me. "Yes, we will help you. For Mallow, for you, and most of all for those that may come after if we don't put a stop to this right now."

"Get Azark dressed for the party. Hopefully we can do it while Divinis Wenrick is distracted, and then confront him when the guests have left."

"You're still trying to save face for him?"

"Not exactly, but the climate with all of these sorcerers around... I think we'll simply have more influence if we wait to have the confrontation," Osoro said. He grabbed my elbow and dragged me over to the dresser he was using earlier. He dressed me up, although I insisted I could handle most of it on my own. I was impatient, but I had to acknowledge his point that storming in and drawing a lot of attention to ourselves would probably be the worst thing we could do for Mallow.

So I sat there, putting on ornate boots with unwieldy heels and too many buckles. My sleeves had a lot of ruffles on them. I found it hard to do anything with my hands without getting the delicate doily lacework snagged, sometimes on things I had not even realized had corners.

"You know, you clean up well," Freckles said.

"That he does," Osoro chimed in. He was dressed as well, and I felt very surreal that the circumstances leading to me being with these two were so dire, and yet we were worried about how to look at a party.

"You and Osoro go together," Freckles said. "I'm going to go a little bit later. In case something happens to you, I can sweep in and help."

"We are already dressed," Osoro confirmed. "That's a good plan. We'll try to make this quick. Expect things to go unexpectedly."

Freckles stepped to the back to find new underclothes.

The air was heavy for a moment.

"I'm not sorry I left you in that alley the other day," Osoro said finally, fitting a pale wig onto his head. The curls spilled down his shoulders and behind his back, bouncing with each tiny movement. "But I am sorry that I did not aid you in the manor. "

I shifted uncomfortably in the stiff clothes. Avalon's used magic to reduce their weight, that's what the maid had said. They must have also used it to remove ribs, because the stiff lower part, an absurdly tall belt, was biting into my lower ribs.

"It's not like it took me by surprise."

Osoro slipped on a pair of gloves, masking his dark hands in thin white cloth.

"Still. It's difficult for us too, you must understand." He dabbed on the tiniest dash of scented water. He moved for the door. I bit my tongue, knowing not to tick him off if I wanted to save Mallow. Secretly I seethed. Yes, it must be so hard to have magic at your beck and call, there to solve all of your problems.

We exited the Avalonry. I went to say goodbye to Thessa, but I didn't see her on the water. I squinted, and the pool was empty.

"Where's Thessa?" I asked.

"Oh, she's probably at the party already," Osoro informed me.

"At the party? She's recovering from a traumatic mutilation." I scrunched my nose.

"Yes, try telling the BROS that. They seem to think it'd be a waste not to display her. She agreed earlier on the condition her family received a new pair of horses when they stopped by to ask permission. I got a guarantee that she'd be returned to the Avalonry, but we'll probably have to have one of the other Avalons pick her up after we're done."

I should have given her a few more seconds last time we spoke.

The walk through the city was different with Osoro than ever before. It was the exact opposite of when I wore the BROS uniform. People kept trying to stop him on the street to talk to him. It seemed impossible to go more than half a block. Every few seconds, someone new hurried toward us. He quietly cast spells to make them veer off course so we could focus on the mission, the same spell he'd used when me and Mallow had seen him from the overlook right before she ran away.

"It must be hard being so popular," I said, my voice tinged with a hard edge. I wanted to run, though I understood that we needed to walk as to not draw attention. Osoro muttered under his breath as a gaggle of people were diverted into a nearby shop.

"It's not hard being popular; I like it. But sometimes, it is inconvenient," he murmured. "I'll miss it. Whether we succeed or fail today, I know that I will lose my privileged status in this city."

An odd sense of guilt overcame me. Completely ridiculous as he was the one who had something to apologize for. And yet...

I spotted one of my wanted posters on a wall. Someone had defaced it already, writing some unkind words across my rendered forehead. I was handsome, as much as one could be in one of these drawings. They would only help a very small part of the festival dwellers, as the most helpful information was probably in the small written section. Still, I was glad I did not look like myself.

Another block down I saw another poster, this one not defaced.

"Sir Osoro, is it okay if I grab one? For a keepsake? Mallow will want to see it, and I don't think we'll have a chance to come back to Blythe." I gestured at the free poster of me on the wall, tacked up and only the lower left corner curling. Osoro snatched it impatiently from the wall, tearing a bit at the top. He rolled it up and handed it to me. I attempted to slip it my sash, only to have my hand slip. The sash wasn't there. I looked down, and then decided to slip it into the tall edge of my new boots. Osoro strode ahead of me several paces, and I hurried to catch up.

"Will you help me get away, after we get her?"

"If I am able," Osoro said. "There is it," He paused and admired the manor. It sat on its hill, encased by waves of people. The flowery smell so characteristic of the home was overpowered by sweat and horses and magic. "I will miss it, but I am eagerly anticipating my freedom too."