Kole ran his hand across the back of his neck, feeling muscles pull and protest under his fingers. His skin felt taut, stretched too thin and beaten, like a drum skin. Most of his injuries were on the mend thanks to the Withania and Devil's Claw. He hadn't indulged in more of the drugs, tempted as he was, but the small stint proved effective.

For the moment a persistent headache pounded behind his eyes, and a heavy pressure lay across his chest, constricting his movements and breaths. It seemed to be pulled inwards, bending his ribs until they formed a smaller cage around his heart. The feeling had started the night before and only grown worse as morning bloomed into a red dawn and now a white day. Outside snow fell in thick sheets, promising a cold night and slippery rooftops.

Kole looked up to find over a dozen sets of eyes pinned on him, waiting for him to explain what he had just said. Or better yet, crack a smile and assure them of the jest, but no, his words were true. Vile and difficult to say, but true. He had received instructions and he was to carry them out. No questions asked. He felt the eyes watching him, crawling behind him at a distance, out of sight unless you knew what to look for. Kole knew they were not trying very hard to keep themselves hidden; mistakes made so often could be questioned to be conscious decisions. They intended for him to know he was a watched, judged, and studied man. A wrong move could lead to pain and he was not willing to inflict any more for the time being. So yes, his words were true.

He waited. Someone would say something. He looked at Misty, her grey eyes slitted and cold. They rounded when she noticed his gaze and she nodded in support, the side of her lip twitched at what could be considered an attempt at a smile.

"Ye not serious are ye?" Swifty asked. Swifty was one of the newer recruitments, untried when it came to trust, but tested when it came to skill. The man was a killer lock pick, and plans seemed to fall from his lips fully formed and fool-proof. His ability to take an impossible situation and navigate through it within seconds was close to comical. Kole had recruited him a year ago, swept him up from under Scythe's feet. At the time it had been a ball ache, now Kole realised he may have saved the man's life.

"I'm serious." Kole gritted his teeth. "I got my reasons, boys, and you may find out about them in time, but for now, it's best for you not to know all of it."

"So what? We just leave? What we gonna tell all 'em other thief lords? Ye dead? Cause they won't believe it," Dagger said, his bushy brows furrowed, creating the illusion that he had dark pits instead of eyes. "Is this got to do with the cathedral hit?"

Kole dropped his gaze and folded his arms across his chest. He wanted to tell them the truth. That he had nothing to do with it; he was being framed, blackmailed, threatened, but as much as he trusted the men before him, he knew the more life you gave to words, the faster they grew feet. So he licked his lips and avoided the question. "Whatever my reasons, it's better for all of you to be elsewhere when all this shit breaks loose. I got my demons and I'm facing them alone. Most of you got families relying on you. You want to risk your skins as well as theirs just to be a part of" —he spread his arms wide— "this?"

"We may be thieves mate, but we got some code to live by. You've done right by all of us for a while now, some of us longer than others," Chopper said, his copper curls tied tightly at the nape of his neck. Kole had been the one to give him his thief name. He had been around during Rufus' time, although not working for the dead thief. Kole had witnessed the boy cutting off the fingers of a thief who stole from him, a man twice his size and age. The sight had haunted Kole until he found the man again, older, wiser, calmer, and with a lot less freckles. "You can't expect us to throw our knives at someone else's feet just cause you tell us you got demons."

"Then what do I have to say? That I'm throwing in my lot? Betting on a different dog? I want out, mate. I'm done. This all ends with a knife in some vital organ, and I got reasons to live longer than my vanity can allow."

"Somebody threaten ye?" Dagger stood.

"Sit down, mate, I'm just saying." Kole took a deep breath, leaned forward on his perch against the desk, his feet resting on the seat of the chair, and rested his elbows on his knees. "Look, I'm not saying I'm closing up shop straight away. All I'm saying is my focus will be elsewhere, and for your safety and income it may be better to find other employment."

"Other employment?" Chopper scoffed. "What thief gonna be taking us in when all we can tell is our leader be hanging up his daggers without an explanation. They'll kill us for moles."

"Then tell them your leader went mad." All turned to face Chase, who was walking down the steps. First his boots, then his legs, torso, and finally his golden head. "You want a reason? The streets are changing, we gotta change, but we can't do that and support the lot of you. Now, Kole aint saying we closing up for good. When we return, all of you will be the first to know, but for now if you want to have food on the table and coin in your pocket you gotta move on and wait for our call."

Kole caught Chase's eye, a long moment passing between them. Unspoken words, silent gratitude and appreciation that Kole could never truly display.

"Now for those of you that don't mind risking all you have worked towards for a life of unknown danger, empty pockets, threats, shifting sands, and collapsing stomachs, stay. But for those who got a little more to lose than their appetites and luxuries, you better take our advice."

Swifty stood. "So all this talk of ye having enough?"

"I'm searching for change." Kole nodded. "Big or small."

Swifty narrowed his eyes.

"I'll call you when I find it," Kole added and received a smirk.

An hour later, all who remained were Kole, Chase, Misty, Stone, Rusty and Jasper, as well as Swifty, Dagger, Chopper, Archer and Tankard, a man who could throw nine pints down his gullet and still walk straight.

"So you're the fools determined to suffer?"

Chopper's shoulders rose as he thrust his hands into his pockets. "For a while, mate. We willing to hold a little while longer."

"I wish you wouldn't. My name's a greater danger to you than it's worth, and I can't even tell you why."

"Ye could," Dagger growled. "All it takes is foolish trust." He snorted. "Look, I don't need to hear what be chasing at yer feet and nipping yer heels. Ye say ye got shit going on, I believe ye. Ye say ye can't be a leader for a while, we fend for ourselves, but I know ye Kole. Yer like them balls the kids throw."

Kole frowned. "Obtuse?"

"Nah mate, ye bounce. Ye know? They throw them down like they be bludgeoning a target and the ball comes straight back up."

"Yeah, we be knowing the definition of bounce." Rusty rolled his eyes.

Dagger threw the closest thing he could find—not a dagger—at Rusty, who ducked with a grunt. "All I be saying is I know ye got plans. Ye always got plans."

Kole swallowed the lump building in his throat. If only those words were true. If only he did have a plan. No matter which way he looked at it, he'd be risking lives. Telling Sera would ease the tension between them, but that brought risks. What if Silver Eyes had tests waiting for him, to make sure he had done what he was told? What if the eyes following him were just a distraction from the ears that tuned into everything he said?

Chase grabbed his shoulder and squeezed. "We got places to be, yeah?"

Kole turned to his friend, the warmth in his hazel eyes was not as luminous as usual. Chase was suffering along with Kole—of course he would. Every blow Kole received was a blow to Chase as well, and vice versa. The "places" Chase was referring to was the vigil they had promised. Chase was to follow Sera to work, and Misty would tag Hannah to Magada's where Stone would be waiting, already finished scoping the house.

While his friends looked after his family, Kole would be visiting Scarlet—a visit he was dreading—but orders were orders and a broken heart was better than broken necks.

The bells tolled; long, sonorous summons to witness a royal order. Good or bad—likely bad—an audience was needed. Peacekeepers herded the hesitant and stationary men and women, still frowning up at the sky as if the snowfall could answer their unasked questions. Sera let herself be swept up in the crowd, dreading the reason for the bells and glad Hannah was at Magada's. The murmurs of the crowd supported the chimes of the bells; questions and speculations were said loudly for anyone to expand upon or repeat on their journey to the amphitheatre.

The monstrous building had multiple entry points and could hold the entire slums with a squeeze. Sera was ushered along with the others. She saw a few familiar faces amongst the crowd, some from the castle also caught in the turmoil on their journey to the palace for the evening shift. At least she wouldn't be the only one late, surely Mrs Bailey would understand Sera had been left no choice in the matter. Struggling against the tide was one way to drown—or get trampled. So she floated along until she was standing on the frozen sand just below the stage. There, standing like sentinels, almost a dozen gallows had been erected. Snow had yet to collect at their base, the nooses that swung softly in the wind were still free of icicles that sought to conquer anything soft and warm. She could feel them spreading across her chest, heading for her heart.

No matter what Koltin had said last night, her heart would always freeze when she saw a hangman's noose or a chopping block. Not knowing where he was or who would step out onto the podium had her palms sweating and her breath elevated. She scanned the rooftops, needing to see a flicker of movement to assure her he was there, but if he was somewhere out there, she could not seem him.

She turned back to face the podium. The amphitheatre was almost full, its occupants staring at the ominous wooden structures with just as much fear as Sera felt. Any one of them could have a loved one unaccounted for, the same trepidation freezing their veins and constricting their chests.

Sera rubber her gloved palms together, hopping from one foot to the other—not because of the cold. She urged the procession to hurry up, to reveal the unlucky souls and be done with it. It was a hanging, ten men were to die, because a man with a title ordered it so. Their crimes would be unknown to most, and likely worthy of the punishment, but how could one truly judge a man who acts out of desperation.

"Sera?"

At the sound of her name, Sera swivelled her head back and forth. The voice came again and this time, Nena appeared, flustered and scowling at a man who had stepped in front of her.

"Nena." Sera forced a smile. "How did you spot me in this chaos?"

"Skinny waif with hair that looks like it has seen better days," Nena scoffed. "You're not hard to miss, Sera, now what's with the hair?"

Sera smoothed her hands over her braid, pulling it over her shoulder. "What do you mean?"

Nena scowled, yanking Sera forward and down so that she could better reach. "It looks like you stepped into a tornado and forgot how to use a comb."

Sera flushed. "It's been quite a...day."

It wasn't a complete lie. She had spent it with Hannah at the market, an hour of which she had spent talking to the Lord Dorian of Cylindale. He had asked questions after question about Sera's past, to which he had received honest but lacking answers. Sera had her own questions and found out only towards the end of their exchange just who the handsome foreigner was. The illustrious new ambassador of Cyllindale, who had arrived in the middle of the night with no announcement or invitation. The palace was still reeling from the confrontation between the soft-spoken, kind man who sat next to her and the proud King that heralded beheadings and hangings.

Nena finished with Sera's hair with a derisive scoff. "Let me guess...Koltin?"

Sera avoided her friend's stare, looking anywhere but at the dark, wide eyes seeing more than they should.

"What did he do? Looking at your fingers I take it he didn't..." Nena's fingers brushed Sera's forearm. "You're crying."

Sera brushed the traitorous tears with the back of her sleeve. "I can't talk about it, not yet." Saying the words would give them life. She wasn't ready to relive them. As it were, they were waiting for her during silent moments, like an echo returning to her or a shadow following her. Like an echo, she would wait for silence before attempting to think again, and rid herself of the shadow by starving the matter of light. Perhaps not the best way forward, but the only one she could manage at the moment.

"Sera, you can't keep hiding your face from your troubles, they have a horrible way of escaping the prison you create when you least expect."

Sera sniffed, wanting to ignore the sense in her friend's words and hearing her own words behind them at the same time. Had it not been last year when she had said something similar? Problems only grew when left to fester, thriving in negligence. "We have both changed so much," she said softly. Nena stepped closer to hear her over the crowd's hum. "I think I'm only just realising now...he has changed so much...I have changed..." She met Nena's eyes. "What if we no longer fit?"

"Sera–"

"What if though? We were kids—have been for so long that we never saw time as the enemy. We never thought it the wedge between us."

Nena rubbed Sera's arm comfortingly. "But you love him?"

Sera nodded. "More than I...maybe too much. I'm starting to think that..." she trailed off as the crowd fell silent and a tall regal man with silvering dark hair and ice blue eyes stepped onto the podium. Despite having all the scars and marks of a man who lived a hard life, he was a man who bore himself with the grace and poise only taught to the noble houses. Something about the way their noses seemed to lift at the sight of those they classed as less worthy than their privileged selves.

The Marshall was no different. He was a figure feared by most, although hardly seen. Like a villain in a folk tale, he was the monster waiting for all those children who didn't thank their parents for the little they had or respect their elderly. For those who thought homework and studies a waste of time, or being virtuous and charitable a chore. Looking at the man, Sera could understand why. Tall and muscular, age had done little to remove any of the man's power and strength. If anything, it only added to his impressive stature.

"People of Lethilian, I shall not linger with words of hope and false promises. Your beloved city's streets have been dark of late. Dangerous and unforgiving. As the land turns to ice so does the hearts of men." He paused, surveying the crowd. "Too long has our gracious King Warrick allowed the innocent to suffer under fear. Too long has your hard earn coin been stolen to line a thief's pocket.

"Last night saw the final brick set into mortar. If rumour has yet to reach you, two nights ago death walked amongst you, sparing not the innocent nor the holy. Twenty-two dead. Twenty-two!" He stopped. No one spoke. No one whispered. Sera felt bile rise in her throat. "Five children, four priests, women, sons, daughters, mothers, fathers. Your kin! Your friends! Slaughtered. And for what? For who? Shall death follow all of you home because some fool, who considers himself a law onto himself, has to prove to other fools that he is the biggest of them all? Are you willing to watch as fear governs your lives? As death threatens your children?"

He produced something from his pocket. Small, perhaps the size of an egg or a coin...a coin...

"Here is the mark of this fool. This menace!" He pocketed the coin again. "I stand here before you on behalf of your magnanimous, benevolent King, who is saddened by these atrocious acts and wishes to assure you that he will not let such terror reign upon his kingdom. And to the man who considers himself King of the streets, let it be known that he has fired his last arrow and faces an army. No man walks this good soil without knowing the sting of consequences."

"Do you believe this?" Nena hissed.

Sera blinked, unable to voice any of her inner turmoil. Did she believe this? Did she think the Marshall was lying? Did she think Koltin capable? No! She couldn't consider the idea of children dying because of...

"My Peacekeepers have combed the streets, leaving no door unopened to find those responsible, and although the head of the snake is still hidden, we have his tail, and it is only a matter of time before this tyranny comes to end."

Behind him, men were led onto the podium, each face gaunt and defeated. There was no will left in the men that walked behind the Marshall, not one with the strength to fight back or defend against the lie. For they were lies. No way had these men run the streets two nights ago. Pale, dirty, and unkept, these were men who had not seen sun in months, perhaps years. These were prisoners. The Hatch. These men were going to die because of another man's crimes.

Sera pressed her hand to her chest, not wanting to believe that the Marshall would see this through. He was a just man. Scary but fair, and yet ten men stepped up, faced their last sight, and trembled as the ropes were secured around their necks. Sera swallowed, her throat tight. Again she looked to the rooftops, wanting to know if Kole knew what was going on, and if he cared enough to stop it. He was never one to let others suffer because of his actions, and although she doubted any of this was his doing, he surely knew about it.

Perhaps his behaviour last night had been due to murders he had not wanted her to know about, or perhaps it was because he knew how disappointed she would be if...No, it wasn't him.

"I charge these men with treason against their liege lord, King Warrick of the house Rowe. They stand before you charged with multiple crimes against crown and kingdom and are found guilty and sentenced to hang until dead."

He stepped back, nodding at the burly men who had escorted the prisoners onto the stage. "They are forbidden any rights to religious sanctifications or blessings. Upon my order." The crowd began to murmur, shocked at the speed at which things were going. Some hacklers were shouting out their protests. Some pointed out that the men that stood charged were skeletons and innocent. Others booed.

The Marshall nodded and the lever was pulled. With a vicious crack, the men fell. Sera gasped and looked away. Nena clutched at her arm. The crowd was silent for minutes that seemed to stretch and grow.

"Let this be a warning to all those willing to ally with criminals. You have one King, and he is one that sees death as punishment, not as discipline. Rewards will be given to those with relevant and truthful information. Any Peacekeepers will be happy to take statements and tips, but for the men and women out there who think they are untouchable, I warn you, I will not stop until this city is safe once more for those that need it most."

It was then Sera noticed the small movement on the rooftops.