Roamfar District boiled.

Ellewyn could feel the heat crawling beneath the watchguard armour. Her fur itched and her nose felt too dry. She resisted the urge to pant, trying to get a hold of her nerves before Illando and the enforcers arrived.

Outside the dim-lit smelting workshop, the district clanged on obliviously to the clandestine war being waged in its midst. The constant heat that settled over Roamfar came from the jam-packed grids of smelting factories that dominated its centre. Vast furnaces burned night and day, refining great shipments of heavy metal that flowed in from all over the continent. The chug and clang of cargo trams echoed at all hours as they criss-crossed the city with their precious loads.

It was well beyond anything that could be remotely considered Ellewyn's jurisdiction.

"You sure about this?" Crester asked quietly. "You really trust that enforcer?"

"Fangs, no," she replied. "But in this case, we're on the same side. I trust Bronco, and he seems to think Illando's okay. For now, that's good enough for me."

The other watchguard nodded, but his thin, sharp face was a mask of unhappiness. Three other watchguards from her pack in Gjornharr had accompanied them out here, and none of them looked much happier about the current state of affairs.

Probably because of the last watch-guard who sat in the middle of the room, lashed to a chair.

Well, Ell, she thought, you've really stuck your paws in the Fire now.

She cast a wary glance at their prisoner. A pack-leader named Glasser, he was a thoroughly unwilling participant in this little field trip. She'd finally gotten tired of waiting around for Bronco and Illando to get to grips with the threat of the Savage Fire. She respected Bronco hugely, and Illando seemed genuine in his conviction, but they were only two kin. After days of waiting around, Ellewyn had simply snapped.

She knew there were traitors in their midst – that much had been obvious for a long time – so she took matters into her own paws. Putting your own people under surveillance wasn't the easiest of tasks, but since the seniors seemed to view her as an annoyance more than anything else, it hadn't been difficult to snoop around. With a few uneasy but trustworthy helpers like Crester, she'd watched and waited, until someone had given themselves away.

"The Seniors will skin you alive for this," Glasser sneered around his broken nose. "You know that, don't you?"

"Oh, shut up," Ellewyn muttered.

"When they find out what you've done – what you did to me – you'll be out on the streets before you can twist that pretty tail of yours."

She rolled her eyes and sighed. Glasser had been an abrasive dung-heap long before they dragged him out here, but his current situation only seemed to amplify those qualities. They'd put up with hours of foul mouthed abuse, before he settled into a steady routine of sneering insults and veiled threats.

"Jumped up little bitch," Glasser raged. "You've lost your mind."

"Me?" Ellewyn rounded on him at that. "I think it's you that's lost it, throwing your bloody lot in with those freaks."

"What? The cult? I already told you-,"

"You already lied to me, yes." She took a few slow steps towards him, eyes narrowing. "Too late for that, Glasser. We've got your tail nailed to the bloody Fire for this one. I saw you passing out those packages." Reaching into the back pocket of her armoured leggings, Ellewyn slipped the pamphlet free. The bold-printed text spewed the verses of Kendris. "Don't think this is standard watchguard literature, is it?"

Glasser's eyes clouded with fury. He might have been a scrawny specimen with wiry black fur, but that hadn't stopped him biting, kicking scratching and screaming for all he was worth when they took him.

"What I do off duty is none of your damned business!"

"I know some people who disagree, and they're on their way right now."

"You think you can scare me? After this you'll be finished in the guard."

Ellewyn stuffed the paper back into her pocket and turned away with a sigh. He was probably right about that, if nothing else. If anyone in the watchguards figured out that she'd actually kidnapped one of their own she could kiss her command goodbye. If that happened, she could look forward to a glamorous life grubbing around the outer districts as a glorified mercenary.

That is, if the cultists didn't track her down and kill her first.

She tried to shunt those thoughts out of her mind. It was done now; she just had to trust her instincts, and her eyes. No matter how hard she tried, though, doubts still nibbled at the corners of her thoughts. Glasser had worked their district for decades. Fangs, she'd worked alongside him more than once, and though she'd never liked him, she would never have predicted this.

Unable to contain the well of nervous energy currently rising up inside her, she started pacing, arms folded tight against her armour as she moved. Not trusting any of the seniors in Gjornharr to follow this up – whether through complacency, laziness or being complicit in the whole mess – she'd dragged them all out to this firepit of a district to have Glasser tried beyond any court. If she was wrong...

It was all she could do not to throw up. All she'd ever wanted was to work hard, by the book, and rise through the watchguard ranks. But the book didn't prepare anyone for something like this. Instead she'd gone rogue and put a target squarely on her heart for every axe-wielding cultist in the city.

"Ma'am!" another watchguard shouted from the entrance of the workshop. "I think they're here."

Ellewyn sucked a sharp breath in through her teeth. This was it. She nodded to the guard. "Bring them in. Let's get this over with."

"Bring who in?" Glasser demanded, tugging at his bonds afresh. "What in the Fire is this?!"

"I've got some friends who want to talk to you," she replied calmly. "If you're smart, you'll tell them what they want to know."

Confusion flashed across Glasser's face and he jerked his head toward the door. Confusion quickly morphed into fear when a squad of wolfkin enforcers came prowling into the workshop.

*

Things were spiralling out of control, and fast.

Jett's discovery of the hidden messages had been like a punch in the nose. Truthfully, he never really suspected Gensher to be involved; to be frank Illando didn't think he was smart enough to pull something like this off. On some level he still didn't quite believe it.

But Gensher had been close to him for almost this entire saga, someone working at the nucleus of the enforcer response. Illando's mind flashed back to the incident in the Gjornharr tunnels, where Gensher killed the cultist. At the time he put it down to the other enforcer's bloodlust, but now he had to consider another motivation.

Gensher killed the captive to keep him from talking.

His first instinct had been to drag Gensher back to the compound, but he suppressed that thought. While things certainly looked bad for his comrade, Illando wanted more information. Farler was still there, and reported that the otterkin enlistees had a lead for them to follow up. Perhaps, rather than giving it all away, he could use his knowledge more effectively. Gensher might prove useful if he remained in the dark. There were delicate moves to be made now.

News of the murdered designate added a fresh dimension of hell to the affair. The Savage Fire cult had managed to stretch their claws into the Conclave itself – one of its lawmakers slain in broad daylight. Between that and the revelations about Gensher, Illando could feel something building on the horizon like a storm, getting ready to crash down on them.

Thankfully, Ellewyn of all people had thrown them a fresh lifeline.

He stepped into what had once been the main work area of the derelict smelting shop, with Ferrow and her squad spreading out to flank him. Three watchguards stationed at the exits looked exceedingly nervous at the arrival of the enforcers, but they stood their ground. In the middle of the room, Ellewyn stood beside a figure lashed to a chair.

"Thanks for coming," she said.

"You made it sound good," he replied. His eyes fixed on the captive. "This is him?"

"Pack-Leader Glasser."

"And you're sure?"

"Wouldn't have called you if I wasn't."

"Where's Bronco?"

She shrugged awkwardly. "I wanted him to be here, but he's got his own district to run. I couldn't risk bringing Glasser all the way out there, so I'm afraid you're stuck with me."

"I can live with that." Illando dipped his head to her. "Nice work."

Ellewyn managed a faint smile at that. "Thanks."

He made a short, chopping gesture to the other enforcers, whereupon they fanned out to cover the other exits. Illando approached their captive, taking slow, deliberate steps as he regarded Glasser with interest. The watchguard's involvement seemed to be less bloody than the other cultists he'd encountered – a facilitator more than a killer – but he could still have valuable information.

"You brought enforcers here?" Glasser hissed. "Have you forgotten what they did?"

"No, I haven't forgotten," Ellewyn shot back.

"They'll kill us all-,"

"Enough!" Illando barked, clearing the final distance between them with a powerful bound, baring his teeth in a snarl. "We're here because you've picked the wrong side."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Glasser blurted, recoiling back in his chair. "You can't do this." Illando shot a questioning glance back over his shoulder.

"He's been denying it since we brought him here," Ellewyn explained, rubbing her eyes with one paw. "Even though we caught him distributing these cult leaflets. Whole packs of them."

"You can't prove anything!"

"Oh, gag yourself," she growled. "We trailed one of your carriers. They took that packet straight to a cult meeting where they handed out the leaflets."

"I didn't know!"

"Didn't you?" Illando swivelled back to face him. "I find that a little hard to believe, somehow."

"I don't care what you believe," Glasser yelled, some of his bravado returning. "You can't treat me like this based on the word of some interfering, wet-behind-the-ears day-dreamer!"

"You've been arranging these drops on the side for weeks now," Ellewyn continued. "And you've kept going long after your friends in that bloody cult started killing people. You know exactly who you're working for."

Illando tapped the blades of his gauntlet together meaningfully. "You might want to reconsider lying to me, Glasser." He tugged a Savage Fire pendant from his belt and dangled it in front of the vulkin. The flash of recognition that crossed the watchguard's face was brief, but unmistakable. "You know what this is."

"No-,"

"Yes, you do." With a flick of his wrist, Illando slashed one bladed-claw across Glasser's face, opening a narrow cut in the traitor's cheek. "Stop lying, or the next one takes your eye."

"What do you want?!" Glasser gasped.

"Whatever you've got. I need to know what Kendris is planning. I know they didn't come here to kill a few random kin from the outskirts."

"I am just helping to spread the word. They are trying to help this city!"

Ellewyn let out a snort of derision. "Some help."

"You may not understand it-," Glasser flashed her an angry look, "but it's the truth. The kin in Wildhearth have lost their... souls."

"I've heard the sales pitch already," Illando snarled, grabbing Glasser by the scruff of his neck. "Trust me, I'm not your target audience."

Glasser gulped. "All I know is the locations they give me! They tell me where they will be working and when, and I make sure they are supplied with what they need to bring Kendris' words to the people."

"And what about your packages, where do you send them?"

"No – you can't persecute them for-,"

A clunk of metal striking bone echoed through the workshop as Illando smacked him across the jaw with his gauntlet, clenching the blades into a blunt fist. Blood and broken teeth sprayed across the floor and Glasser let out a gibbering yowl of pain. Illando grabbed him by the throat and rammed the writing watchguard back against the seat.

Glasser glowered at him through tears, gnashing his aching jaws together. "Big tough enforcer," he slobbered. "Beatin' up on us when we're tied up, eh? You and yours are the reason we need the Savage Fire. Gotta cut out the rot of you, the Conclave – all of it!"

"Your friends butchered innocent people," Illando hissed back through clenched teeth. "And you think you can judge me? Maybe I should show you just what they did to those kin. In real time. If you're such a fan of their work then maybe I'll make you a part of it. How does that sound?" He released his grip and straightened up, feeling the eyes of the other enforcers and watchguards on his back.

The threat broke through Glasser's bluster and he sagged deeper into the chair, a sullen expression filling his face.

"You can't stop them. Even if I tell you, you can't stop them."

"If that's the case, then what's stopping you?" Illando shrugged. "Where are the packages being sent? Trust me when I say it'll be worth your while. Either that," he leaned forward, bringing their faces close together again, "or I really will cut you to pieces, Glasser. I promise you that."

Glasser tugged instinctively at his bonds, all trace of his earlier abrasiveness erased by the reality of his situation.

"I..." The muscles in his jaw tightened and eventually spat out the words. "I've sent some big deliveries to Drambower District recently."

"Drambower?"

"Yes, yes, Drambower, to the old fish factory!"

"Why there?"

"I don't know! All I've been told is that they're supposed be having some big event there soon, but I don't know what it is! I'm telling the truth – I just deliver the packets when they send them my way."

Illando frowned; glanced back at Ellewyn. "You know the place?"

"I know of it," she replied, moving to stand beside him with her arms folded. "Half derelict from what I heard. They shut down the dock network there a few years back. Not sure what that's got to do with Kendris." She turned a dubious stare on Glasser. "Though he could just be making all this up to get out of here."

"No, no, no! That's all I know, I swear!" Glasser spluttered through broken teeth. He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head and sending blood spattering across the floor. The muscles in his neck and shoulders stood out taut as he tensed. A wordless screech ripped from his throat before his eyes flew open. "The Fire will cleanse, the Fire will cleanse..."

"This again?" Ferrow sneered from across the room. "I reckon that's about all you're getting out of him, sir."

"I think you're right." Illando raised his bladed gauntlet, clashing the blades together. "Goodbye, Glasser."

"What...?" The vulkin's eyes looked like they were about to pop right out of his skull as he leaned back. "What are you doing?!"

"The punishment for treason is still death, friend."

"But I told you what I know!"

Illando regarded him coldly. "And for that, I'll make it quick."

"Ellewyn!" Glasser shrieked. "We worked together! You can't let him do this!"

"Illando, hold on."

He stopped, letting out a faint snarl of annoyance. Every sinew of his body strained to finish the traitor off, but he stopped himself at the sound of her voice. Slowly, he eased back up into a standing position as the pad of her footpaws approached, bracing himself for another confrontation. Ellewyn moved up beside him, but to his surprise, when he looked at her he found her face twisted into an uncharacteristic mask of rage.

The watchguard leaned down, gripping the arms of the chair Glasser had been tied to. She brought her face close to his, baring her canines.

"You spineless dog," she spat. "You betrayed everything we stand for, and now you've got the nerve to ask for my help? I don't think so. You picked your side." Ellewyn straightened up, and he could see her whole body shaking. Her next words came out softly, but they struck like hammer blows.

"I hope it hurts, Glasser." Then she spun away and strode from the room without a backward glance.

Illando flexed his shoulders in readiness as he faced the former watchguard, a vicious smile spreading across his face. Everybody had their limits, and this fool had pushed Ellewyn to hers.

"Nobody likes a traitor," he said.

"You're all going to die," Glasser screamed, his voice shrill and bitter. "When Kendris finds out what you've done, he'll have your skull-,"

His threats were cut short by Illando's gauntlet punching through his windpipe.