I felt her magic, roving me, prying at my insides. The sensation filled me with enough revulsion that I knocked her arm away, almost purely out of reflex.

  "What concern is it of yours?"

  Her eyes widened in disbelief. She raised her arms to either side and dropped them. "Have you heard nothing of what I've said? The importance of the soul, the fact that it is the only thing that remains when we pass over to the next iteration?"

  "Again. I don't follow how I was meant to know that back then, or why it should matter to you. At all." I stared her down, rubbing at the impression her fingers had left on my throat. "Because I've listened well enough to piece together the greater intentions. You kill our once-allies softly for the sake of preservation, then do the opposite to me. Your torments serve the greater, more horrible purpose of wearing my soul down to nothing, until I vanish from the iterations."

  "That's not—It isn't—" Her face grew redder with rage until it was nearly scarlet.

  "Fi-fi-fi-finish a fucking sentence before I go find a sky hold to throw myself off of." I snarled, utterly done with the prying and manipulations.

  Her mouth tightened, and her brows furrowed, looking more like the spiteful little shrew I'd come to expect. "Just as bullheaded and stupid as you've ever been. We're done here—"

  "The hells we are—" I caught her arm, dancing backward as a blow displaced the air where my chin had been, so quick and vicious it left a breeze. I released my hold and flung my arm towards the door. "Fine then! Go running off with an oozing, open hole in your chest. Ruin my efforts. That's your whole goddamn thing after all."

  Thoth stood perfectly still. Unmoving. Expressionless. Utterly and eerily without anger as her head tilted down towards her still-bleeding wound. Mechanically, she took a cloth sodden with antiseptic, wiped it down, then wrapped it in gauze. She retrieved another vial from the hard case—this one red—and downed it all. When she spoke, it was almost monotone. "This is unproductive. I need to solidify my plans for the next iterations. We'll reconvene at a later time."

  "Or preferably, not." I muttered, watching as she gathered her things and left.

  Only after her footsteps grew too distant to hear did I allow myself to relax, leaning heavily on the operating table. Familiar hands wrapped around my torso, comforting and warm.

  I closed my eyes. "Well. That could have gone better."

  "Mmm."

  "Think she's done testing me now?"

  "Mmm."

  "No?"

  "I think... the arch-mage was more vulnerable in that moment than ever before."

  "And I bungled it." I finished with a sigh.

  "Don't be so dismayed, ni'lend." Maya laughed, and there was a warmth as her cheek pressed against my back. "You too have limits. She'll find you again. It might be the only real certainty across the planes."

  "Was I?" I asked, reviewing the events once more, uncertain.

  "Were you what?"

  "Cruel. While she was helpless beneath the blade."

  "Expeditious, perhaps. But not cruel. No, I suspect she did not really expect you to tend her, nor was she entirely helpless. Only you did tend her. And she endured it."

  "Until she couldn't." I finished, thinking it through again. "The little knives."

  "Mhm."

  "Why even put herself in that position, if it unsettled her so?"

  "Hubris, perhaps? It would be in her nature."

  "Perhaps." I fought the urge to look behind me. "When I held the blade to her neck... you never came."

  "And yet, the blade didn't fall. You didn't need me."

  "I'll always need you."

  Her breath warmed my ear.

  And then she was gone.

  A thousand dead eyes watched as I navigated empty roads, threading around wagons without horses, peeking through windows at those inside, still perfectly preserved, while those outside sifted beneath the layer of fog at my knees, steps forming small dervishes of darkness that swirled up only to settle beneath the mist once more.

  Once, I'd wished ruin upon this place. Its people.

  Faced with it again, I could only lament what a fool I'd been.

  It wasn't perfect.

  Nowhere was.

  But that was the role of a leader. To take what was imperfect and make it better. To address problems, rather than create them. And to think, when I'd tossed my crown onto the pyre, I'd believed my rejection was expressing some profound sentiment.

  Such a fool.

  The distant whistle of a bird barely penetrated the darkness of my thoughts.

  When it was answered by a second, and a third, each coming from different directions, I slowed to a halt, surveying the surroundings with dawning concern.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  The long journey from Kholis hadn't been entirely barren. I'd seen various rodents and small animals a few times, and though little remained, it wasn't entirely lifeless. But I'd only ever heard a bird a few times. The fact that I'd just now heard three, making the exact same call, one after another, within the ruins of an urban area that should have arguably far less for them to scavenge than the ruins of the forest sat poorly.

  I kept scanning the distance in the approximate direction of the noise, swiveling back and forth, pivoting as I walked.

  Somewhere behind me there was a scrape, followed by the distant shatter of clay smashing against stone.

  Not unlike the sound of a shingle falling off a rooftop.

  Maybe it's a large bird.

  Still standing perfectly still, I pressed my lips together and whistled, mimicking the call from before. A trilling twitter, accented by two staccato notes. Almost like a question.

  The answer came in a rustling sound, and a loud thud that was almost assuredly not a bird. Several further impacts followed, then footsteps echoed, one after another, until they were thunderous, echoing off the walls, creating distant displacements in the mist. My mind's eye caught the smallest glimpse of tattered blue garb worn by human figures, the remnants of what had once been soldiers, storming towards me.

  With the memory of what those terrible claws could do emblazoned so recently in my mind, I turned, and ran.

  My pulse raced as I picked up speed, collecting slivers as I scaled a nearby garden trellis, boots barely gaining purchase upon an angled rooftop before I was running again, risking a burst of precious mana through the inscriptions on my legs to amplify my agility, for several calculated leaps before I reached the top of the high wall that divided Topside and the noble quarter.

  Technically, this was the right direction if I wanted to head to the castle—which I had—but I'd come this way without truly meaning to, heavy fog disorienting me the moment I'd started to run.

  The noble quarter lacked the benefit of Topside's cramped-together rooftops. It was disadvantageous in a lot of ways—the wide open spaces would not favor me in combat, and the sightlines were far more problematic against foes such as these in contrast to the tight alleys and passages of the lower half of the city.

  I was feeling a bit like a cat run up a tree.

  Then again, if pushing into the noble quarter was a fool's errand, and the way I'd come was cut off, it might not be such a bad place to find myself. The wall's cap was wide enough to stand on with both feet flush, facing down its length, though not much wider. Numbers advantage would matter less than height here, and considering the perils of a long fall presented by either side, the ghouls' disorganized recklessness would work against them.

  And I had the fortune of possessing a capable bludgeon.

  I pulled Maya's xescalt staff from my back, holding it out as a counterweight, taking a few practice swings to ensure I could keep my balance.

  Below, the ghouls wasted no time closing the distance, their rancid snarling chilling my blood as their fingernails searched stone for purchase and somehow found it, slowly ascending to where I stood in wait.

  The first was dislodged with a boot to the forehead, its blood-red eyes widening as it plummeted to the stone below.

  It had not even fallen halfway before the staff's metal ends found the jaw of a second, and the sternum of a third.

  But they weren't as collectively foolhardy as they appeared.

  After the third joined its fellows sprawled far below, they seemed to realize that I was holding ground. They stopped rushing. The pace slowed, and like most successful pack hunters, they flanked. Several split off to either side, ascending like creeping vines, well out of range.

  Annoying.

  But not untenable.

  They could still only rush me two at a time—at least until the ones crawling up directly beneath arrived. I needed to whittle down their numbers before that. Brutally, if possible. Make further pursuit a dubious proposition.

  Careful to cloak my intention until the last moment, I whipped around and rushed to the left, staff still providing a counterweight, then swung it with all my might directly into the skull of the ghoul still pulling itself up onto the wall, unintentionally blocking its fellows.

  It fell, along with several others, the flank temporarily defeated as the rest rushed me from behind.

  I dropped two more before the third rushed me down.

  It swiped at my eyes, barely missing.

  I dodged at the cost of my balance, nearly tumbling back over to the Topside section where several ghouls salivated below, clumsily catching myself with the staff and redirecting my momentum to the other side.

  The fall would be a bad one. I realized within a second that my weight and rotation were wrong, that I was more likely to land on my back than my feet.

  With muttered profanity, I fought the strain at my temple and called an aegis directly beneath my back, cushioning the descent harshly. The heels of my boots smacked against the ground beneath.

  Back where I'd started, I took off running again. But my lungs burned more than they should have. Casting so low on mana had drained me of energy, left me vulnerable.

  I nearly released the aegis before deciding against it.

  There were precious seconds left before more ascending ghouls spotted me out in the open. I sprinted for the nearest building, some estate of a minor lord whose name I couldn't recall, focused entirely on breaking line of sight.

  I didn't realize what I'd been looking for until I found it—a high steel chain meant to secure the manor's gate in the evenings, wrapped around a baluster. Wrestling it free, I coiled it and shoved the bundle onto the floating aegis, leaving around an arm's length of chain hanging off, where it would drag on the ground.

  In great discomfort from the effort, I took cover behind the stone gatepost, wincing as the chain bounced against the ground, dragged by the aegis, making a great deal of noise.

  Moments later there were snarls and sprinting footsteps rushing past my hiding place. A particularly loud screech shattered my focus, and in the distance I heard the chain fall to the ground with a final clatter.

  The rushing footsteps slowed. I heard them fan out, seeming to vocalize to each other in muted grunts, occasionally calling out in the same birdlike whistles from before.

  I'd spent more mana than I'd meant to. But if they could smell—or sense it, somehow—spending it might have been helping me stay undetected.

  Even as that thought crossed my mind, my spirits sank. Because the ghouls didn't seem to be leaving. They were just milling around, like they sensed prey somewhere nearby without being able to narrow down the specifics.

  In the distance, roughly from the direction of Topside, came another bird call. It was sharp and shrill, far more aggressive than the others had been.

  Every ghoul froze in place, heads tilting unnaturally toward the sound. There was a dispassionate grunt, then a flurry of activity as they fled the square, crawling up onto the wall and leaping to rooftops on the other side.

  I breathed out.

  It would be wise to keep moving.

  Whatever distracted them had potentially saved my life, yes, but sounded far from friendly. Furthermore, the ghouls were more intelligent than I'd realized—I wouldn't put it past them to return here once they were finished with whatever they were doing, trying to pick the colder trail back up.

  The castle wasn't far now. Assuming there were no more unfortunate snags, I'd reach it in less than an hour.

  I moved at a smooth jog, hugging walls and buildings tightly, crossing open spaces in a swift crouch, doing everything possible to minimize exposure. The persistent fog gave the entire journey a sense of disquiet. Despite solid ground beneath my feet, moving forward through the swirling mist felt strangely detached, as if I was wading through water, the dark husks of buildings looming like sunken ruins.

  It was so disorienting and dreamlike I nearly missed the forest for the trees. I'd visited the estate of Bernard Erebus often enough that my mind simply skipped over it, dismissing it as ordinary.

  And it was. Light stone walls led up to a high rooftop, with a banner flown above its doorway, depicting a war cat.

  All utterly untouched by the corruption.

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