Salo sat nervously on a creaky chair in the far corner of the Resistance's hideout, tapping his fingers restlessly on the plain mug between his hands.

How in the world did I end up here?

The clanging of the dummy swords had died down, yet the chatter had sparked up inside the domed hall. Although it was clear the rebels wanted to seem discreet, they weren't doing a really good job. Salo could feel their glares cling to his skin, and as much as he wanted to shake them away, his body was too strained to allow that.

The boy looked down at the cup of toha tea in his palms, examining his reflection on the dark liquid. Weak. Useless. The dark halos beneath his eyes only made him seem less like a worthy man to make a deal with and more like a worn out traveller. His hair was ruffled into an ambitious architectural project, his cheeks were too hollow to be considered defined and his usually bright eyes were empty, staring at the beverage with a blank glance.

The tall woman, who was revealed to be called Iona, walked towards the small lounge, falling on a chair right before Salo. She stayed silent for a few moments, studying the boy through narrow slits. When the meticulous analysis of his features came to a close, Iona leaned forward. "Salo Canbar," she declared.

"That's me." There is no point in denying anymore.

Iona nodded, rubbing her cheek as she appeared to think. "May I ask you something?" Before Salo could have the chance to reply, she continued. "Why do you want the Halal di Madar?"

The boy blinked in confusion. "What?"

"The artifact. The item you have been hunting." Her thick accent only made her words seem as if they held more weight, as if each one of them mattered. "Why do you want it?"

Salo shifted in his chair. After all those days of searching and searching, he had almost forgotten the reason behind all of his struggles. At last, the answer was resurrected in his mind, and it was not one he was proud of. "Money," he said. "I want the money to--"

"That is all I need to know." The woman stood, pacing around Salo's seat like an untamed lion. "But let me ask you this, Salo Canbar. Do you care about your country's future?"

The boy paused. She didn't know where he was from. Yet that question only proved that the Kingfisher in Kage's hands would favor nobody but himself. "Yes," he stated curtly. "Of course I do."

"Then perhaps you shouldn't care about the money."

"I need the money."

"Are your selfish needs more important than the future of our world?"

Salo huffed, placing the cup in his hands next to him and pushing his heavy body up. "Yes," he said, and even he was surprised at the bitterness of his words. "If the deal is to ignore our goals and deliver the Kingfisher right to your door, then I think I will pass."

Before he could take a step further, Iona grabbed his shoulder and shoved him back down to the wooden chair. Salo suppressed a yelp as he glared at the woman with the most murderous glare he could muster. She didn't seem to be swayed.

"That wouldn't be a deal, Salo Canbar," she retorted. "It would be a favor. We will offer something in return for the artifact."

"Like what?"

Iona bent down, snatching a black leather case from the ground and hauling it on Salo's lap. This time he hissed, almost toppling over his knees at the weight. Reluctantly, he clicked the large briefcase open and slowly lifted the lid.

He saw yellow. A lot of it.

Trying not to drool over the feast of gold under his hands, Salo looked at Iona with a slight jerk of his brow. "Do you suppose the Seyali government wouldn't offer just as much?"

"The idea is that you get the money and the Seyali don't get the artifact."

"You cannot possibly think that there won't be a higher bidder for this."

Iona gave the boy a tight smile, pushing the case shut and removing it from Salo's lap. He could almost feel a void in his heart with the gold's absence. "Whoever you sell it to, it will always end up in Seyal," the woman said. "Except you give it to its number one defier."

Salo's heart fluttered with hope. So there's another choice. We don't have to give it to him. Yet he could only imagine Arden's reaction when he learned that someone preordered the artifact for half its original price. He had to ask them. They were a team, after all, and one couldn't take such initiatives without the consent of others.

But how many times did Arden make decisions on his own? How many times did he ignore our opinion? Trying to smother his doubts, Salo shook his head. "I'll have to think about it."

Iona abruptly strode forward, grabbing his shoulders and quivering them with the force of a thousand earthquakes. "We don't have time for thinking! It's time to act."

Salo shook off her grip. "I'm not alone," he hissed. "I can't make that decision on my own."

A laugh bubbled inside the woman's throat as she put distance between herself and Salo, her pacing intensifying rapidly. Sharp words he didn't recognize escaped her lips and cut deeper than any familiar curse would. Salo wanted to stand up and flee the hideout before an explosive rebel slit his throat or threw his body in a dark Mushan ditch, yet he found that his feet were rooted to the ground, unable to move from their spot.

Iona ran a hand through her rich blonde hair and glued her eyes shut, inhaling deep doses of dusty air. "What else?" she asked quietly, yet her tone was lethal. "What else do you want to seal the deal?"

"Anything?" Salo muttered hesitantly.

The woman's eyes snapped open and glared at the boy's soft features. "Almost. Now talk."

Salo averted his glance to the ground and examined the blurry rock as he pondered. Arden wasn't there to tell him what he should do. Nora wasn't there to show him how to deceive them. Ailyn wasn't there to reveal the Ascended Council's weaknesses and therefore the best choice. He was all alone, alone to decide, alone to negotiate. No, he interrupted his own train of thought. Not alone. Free.  

The shackles of his weakness seemed to click open as he apprehended the situation. He could do whatever he thought to be best. Nobody would blame him for wanting the best for everyone. He could ask for a mansion or a fake passport to flee Frya or even a ticket to Fabal. He could do anything.

Yet there were still some loose ends. There was a certain duty that would most likely kill them if they didn't attend to it quick enough. Salo sighed, looking up at Iona with a new glint of determination. "I want to free a friend from confinement."

Iona nodded. "Where are they being held?"

"In the Seyali palace."

Iona's brows furrowed.

Salo stood before she could deny. "Don't you know? The oligarchy has reigned for too long!" he yelled, beads of sweat forming on his brow. You have to do this, he reminded himself as he cleared his dry throat. "What better way to disorient those power-bearing tyrants than raiding their palace? I'm surprised you have endured their oppression for this long." The boy puckered his lips, studying Iona's features. The whole situation could turn against him fast, and his negotiating skills weren't particularly honed. 

His heart banged inside his chest, and somehow it was only excited when the woman's thin lips were pulled into a wide grin. "You will have your money and your friend, Salo Canbar." She glanced at the crowd that had quietly formed around them. "But most importantly, you have earned an ally."

༺──────────────༻

Salo had never felt this much pressure in his life.

"So," Iona declared, leaning against the wooden table to study the boy before her. "You've got the leader's approval. What do you have in mind?"

The leader of the Resistance had been terrifying, truly. He was much older than the boy had expected; his thick beard was sprinkled with white hair, and his slanted eyes seemed wrinkled, almost tired. He had glared at Salo viciously as the boy tried to explain the situation with the steadiest voice possible. 

At first he had denied. "Waste of men," he had managed in broken Seyali, but once Iona stepped in to persuade him in quite aggressive Mushan, the man eventually raised his hands in defeat and waved towards the people chattering in the domed hall.

"I would call it a begrudging permission," Salo corrected quietly, still trying to disguise the racing of his pulse. He didn't know what to call it; fear or excitement? Dread or relief? "What did he tell you?"

Iona shifted in her chair uncomfortably, beaming at Salo with a flat smile. "The leader will give us a small troop of recruits."

"Recruits?" Salo scoffed, and his spite's resemblance to Arden's startled him for a second. "You expect us to break into a palace with a few novices?"

"We must work with what we have."

The boy rubbed his chin and puckered his lips in thought. "We obviously don't have much strength. How is this ever going to work?"

"The winter festival parade?" Iona offered. "It's a few days away. The participants always get a good look at the palace. Perhaps we can march all the way to Daesan and make some sort of distraction."

"That's not a bad idea. Only our feet will be full of blisters when we reach the palace."

Iona sighed, squeezing the sides of her head with two fingers. "The journey to Seyal's capital alone is something more than a day. If we want to take this opportunity, we must hurry."

Salo stood, pacing back and forth nervously. What would Arden do? He shook the thought out of his head. Arden wasn't there. He couldn't help. Instead, the boy tried to focus on their current forces. Two thieves, a spy, a crippled Ascended, a minor general and a few dozen trainees. Their team wasn't the strongest or the most solid, but that was the most they could ask for at the moment.

An idea popped inside Salo's head. Lephar Blom had once told him an army was good for an attack, but a crew was good for an intrusion. What if they somehow intruded the palace? Despite the craziness of his plan, the boy halted and swivelled to face Iona. 

"We could invade the palace," he blurted out, scanning the general's face through wide eyes. Soon it tilted to the side, peering at Salo curiously.

 "There are at least a dozen guards watching every entrance. We cannot break into that place without suffering at least a few mutilations." 

Salo shook his head. "The performers of the parade can join the ball in the palace's foyer. The people in my town call them the 'lucky bunch'. What if we blended in with them?" 

Iona's lips quirked up as an idea formed in her head. "We could get some papers made for identification. There's no way to fake your shooting fire in the air, however." 

"Maybe," Salo conceded, yet the thrill refused to leave his glance. "But there is one group of performers nobody ever inspects." 

Iona leaned back in her chair, raising her brows as she nodded. "Oh yeah? And who are those?" 

"The band." 

The general released a rich laugh. It wasn't the mocking laugh of Lephar Blom, not the dismissive snicker of Arden. It was a true exclamation of approval. "I like your thinking, Canbar." She narrowed her eyes and her smile widened. "We might be getting somewhere." 

Salo grinned and resumed his pacing. "That's right. Some of us could carry the instruments. Some else who know how to play them could perform in the band itself."

"And who would go find your friend?"

The boy raised his head to smile at Iona. "I know someone. Don't worry." 

"Well," Iona sighed, pushing her body up from the creaky chair she had previously occupied. "You must inform your team about all of this. Tomorrow, come back to the market." The general smiled knowingly. "We'll find you."

Salo bobbed his head in approval. This is actually happening. We're getting Ela back. As he started for the domed room, a weight crashed against his back. With a pained yelp he twirled around, glaring at Iona. "What was that about?"

The woman pointed lazily at the floor. "You forgot the gold."

"Oh." Salo snatched the case hurriedly, examining its shiny surface. "How do you know I won't take the money and disappear?"

"You're not that kind of person."

"My allies are that kind of person."

Iona snorted a sharp laugh, quirking up her brow. "Then you make sure your allies don't touch the money."

Salo inclined his head, and with a last smile he stepped into the domed hall once more.

The chatter had only gotten louder. Boys and girls were yapping incessantly, exchanging hissed whispers and glancing suspiciously at the boy as he rushed through the room. Don't attract their glares, he tried to remind himself, yet it was too late. Accompanied by the pairs of eyes glued on him, two young men stepped in his path, querying something in Mushan he did not apprehend.

"I'm sorry, I don't..." he trailed off, trying to evade the surprisingly tall figures blocking his exit.

"You," one of them managed. "Who are you?"

Salo inhaled a few breaths of dusty air, trying to retain his posture. You are supposed to lead them in a few days. Don't be weak. He straightened his shoulders, mimicking the coldest people he had met. "You will find out soon." 

With an almost-aggressive shrug of his shoulders, Salo moved by the two figures and dashed for the door as discreetly as he could.

Once he was outside, the boy collapsed against the door and snapped his eyes shut. It's over. Relax. It's over. Sweat trickled down his forehead. The unexpected heat of the catacombs didn't help his case. He had to seem strong, for the sake of his team. That didn't mean he could become the courageous leader everyone in that room wanted to believe he was. 

Yet he had relied on others for too long. First it was his father. Then it was Lephar Blom. Now it was three other people who had enough to worry about themselves. As the boy rubbed his sleeve across his face, he swallowed down the last of his worries. I wanted to be helpful. This is my chance. For the first time in a long while, he had made a decision on his own, that could prove useful in the long run.

Don't beat yourself up, he attempted to mitigate the anxiety that still lurked under his hopeful exterior as hecareful strode across the narrow corridors of the catacombs. We have an ally now, and soon we will have Ela too.

Salo nodded in agreement with his inner voice. He did what he had to do for the team. For Ela.

And for himself. To prove his criminal career would either end with a bang or ignite with an inferno like none else.

***

Yes, the update schedule is a mess, but you already know that.

So, we're at the story's home stretch! All the characters have a plan in mind, and all that remains now is for all the plans to be fused into a chaotic ending. For those that have not realized; yes, there will be a sequel to this. 

For all that have not caught it yet (although I made it awfully indiscreet), the Kingfisher's location has already appeared in the book.  ;).

Once again, thank you for reading! It means the world to me. Please consider voting and commenting, as it helps me a ton ♥