“You did what?”


    Tummy stopped mid-swing of the hammer and stared slack-jawed at her.


    “I—er, I spat wine in the Dryad’s face.”


    “Figuratively?”


    “No, no. She did it quite literally,” Deidra said. She’d pulled out one of the chairs they never used in the back of the forge. She sat demurely on it and ate an apple as Mertle tried to explain to Tummy what had happened.


    “How aren’t you a tree right now? I don’t remember the Dryad being known for her understanding nature.”


    “Tummy, she called me child of the dying land. Can you believe the cheek?” She let out an annoyed huff. “Fine, we don’t really have many trees in Beril. The land’s volcanic, not dying. I took offence.”


    “And you thought spitting in her face was an intelligent reaction to have?”


    Well, no. In hindsight, it had really not been a good idea to do that. The Dryad was a goddess, and one powerful enough to turn Mertle into whatever she pleased. The moment had hung in the air, everyone looking at her, the only sound left in the room being the drops of wine crashing to the floor off the goddess’s wooden mask.


    “It was bloody poetic. I expected Aliana would faint in anger,” Deidra said, loudly chewing on her apple. “I never expected coming to Valen would be this much fun.”


    Tummy pointed his hammer at the night weaver. “I’ll get to you in a moment. Mertle, make me understand this. What do you mean we’re closing up shop?”


    Mertle stowed away her gear in the same old box and dropped the piece of floor over it. She’d been mulling the whole thing on the way back and every part of her insisted this was insane.


    But most of her also suggested this would be the best way to help Sil and Tallah once they returned. She’d need to get word to them somehow. Thankfully, there was a way to do exactly that.


    “Mertle?”


    She came back to herself with a startle. “Right, right. We’re going to Aztroa Magnor. Tianna is to be drafted into the Storm Guard.”


    “That’s bloody lovely, but I feel we’re missing a very important element here.”


    “I’m not a sorceress.”


    “You’re not a bloody sorceress, no. How d’you think this would work?”


    Deidra raised her apple core into the air and waved it. “I’m tagging along with you guys. Leave the channelling to me and Luci.”


    “Again, didn’t ask ye. Mertle?” Tummy didn’t even spare the night weaver a glance.


    “Pretty much what the sorceress said. They’re coming with and will help with the magic part. I just need to pass the initial training.”


    Tummy hammered the red piece of iron into shape as he mulled over her words. It was more than a little insane, she had to admit. But it also made sense.


    Quistis had shown her what she’d gathered about Tianna’s activity, things Mertle had no idea about. Sil and Tallah had been busy with missions that were sure to draw Guard attention. Small ones to begin with, then some that were high-difficulty, and so on. It was erratic, but put together by someone in the Guard?


    It made sense that Tallah wanted to approach a position similar to her old one. Granted, that was years in the making, but the trajectory was there. Quistis had all the documents to prove it.


    And then there was what the Dryad had said.


    “I know from a very reliable source that your friends are alive and will soon resurface into the light. I know where they are headed once they finish their mission. They will be informed about this new development and will find their way to Aztroa afterwards. You can be certain of that.” The Dryad had given her a long glare, but otherwise ignored the slight. It made Mertle feel like a chastised child.


    Who the source was, she hadn’t mentioned. But this seemed like more than just simple coincidence. Mertle was inclined to believe the goddess and also believe this would be the best way to help.


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    “Do you really want us involved in this?” Tummy asked. “You understand what’s going to follow.”


    He wasn’t asking and she did. She remembered well enough what had driven them off Nen, stowaways on an Empire ship headed to Calabran. Tallah wanted to kill the empress. What would follow would be bloody. It always was. Mertle had culled two Protectors and one aelir’matar. Each of those deaths had led to many others as the houses imploded into civil war.


    If she accepted a role in this, she would accept the blood on her hands. Maybe it would be worth it. By the time she and Tummy would reach Aztroa, maybe she’s see the reason why it was even necessary. Deidra and Quistis sure insisted it was.


    For now, she simply needed to move. Decide. Do something!


    “We are going to Calabran for resources,” she said with more confidence than she felt. “We will go with a caravan up to Bastra, then switch to another that we’ll miss. From there we’ll travel on our own towards Garet, and get on the iron road there towards Aztroa.”


    A decent plan. Tummy’s grumbling said as much.


    “And once there?”


    “I will present myself as Tianna to the main recruitment office of the Storm Guard. I have an invitation that will be delivered to me at the Meadow. Tianna will leave on the same caravan as us, and disappear just the same. For the first year after induction into the Storm Guard training will mainly be physical and educational. Less magic. More school. I need to learn to read.”


    Quistis would be in Aztroa and take a personal interest in Tianna, as an apology for the misunderstanding in Valen. With everything going to plan, they would have at least a year’s buffer before things got… problematic.


    Enough time for Sil to get the message the Dryad offered to send. Enough time for she and Tallah to make their way into Aztroa and pick up the threads of their plans.


    Enough time… if all went to plan.


    “And why are you here?” Tummy asked Deidra as he stabbed the red hot iron into a pail of water. “What is your gain?”


    “Well, I’ve been spending next to three decades working on unravelling the Eternal Empire. This is simply a continuation of my mission.” Without her cloak and glasses, and with her hair tied back into a ponytail, it was hard to recognise Deidra as the same person from the new bounty posters.


    Really? Two chickens and a handshake? They’d all laughed at the idea. Deidra had agreed that would’ve had her seeing red if she weren’t… well, basically sleeping in Quistis’s bed and knowing how things went and why. A good plan from the princeling, but not one that even he expected to show results.


    “Why are you working against your own people?” Tummy asked, getting back to beating the iron into submission.


    “Working against an illegitimate empire built on blood and lies is not working against my own kind, thank you very much. You’ve only seen Valen and the road to here. Don’t look at me like that. Mertle and I have talked.” Deidra smiled broadly and waggled a finger at them. “You two have some of the deepest buried secrets I’ve ever seen. I couldn’t find zilch on either of you, no matter how far down I dug. But I can bet you weren’t doing wholesome work back on Nen.”


    Tummy threw Mertle a long look. She shrugged. Yes, they’d talked, especially after the Dryad had left on her way. It had been an informative night and there was really no need to keep many secrets. Granted, not many secrets since the moment they’d both stepped onto Vas’s shore. Everything before was their business alone.


    “What good will a human civil war serve?” Tummy echoed the same question she’d posed as they’d neared the bottom of a third bottle of wine.


    “We’ll have much bigger problems than fighting one another. Being led to the slaughter by a puppet is a much bigger danger than a little strife once the dust settles.”


    Mertle tried figuring how long it had been since she’d last slept while Deidra and Tummy got into an argument about succession wars and empires falling to pieces. He knew quite a bit about bringing down powerful people and what it led to. He’d smashed a few crown-wearing heads.


    It had been three days since she’d last slept properly. After the visit at Aliana, she’d swapped out for Tianna and made her way to the Meadow. From there she’d begun preparations for departing. She should’ve discussed things with Tummy, but she knew he’d follow her lead.


    Life in Valen was comfortable, safe, and peaceful.


    He chafed under its yoke. Both of them did, and it had taken winter’s events to shake out the cobwebs loose off both of them. He didn’t show it as she did, but it was there.


    Lucretia had taken off towards Aztroa and Deidra had stayed behind as Mertle’s personal shadow. Some things were happening with the Storm Guard cell and it seemed more prudent to have at least one channeller readily on hand in case of any other unforeseen events.


    She looked over to the long chest that now hid Sil’s staff. Things moved easier now that she didn’t need to circulate between Meadow and Sisters each time she needed to head out as Tianna.


    When had she sat down on her cot? She couldn’t quite remember. There was some late work to finish up, but it could probably wait. Tummy beat a steady rhythm as he argued with Deidra, both of them heated up enough that they ignored her.


    Maybe she’d rest her eyes for a moment. Maybe kick off the boots and just… rest.


    It was only for a short time and Quistis would be there to help her settle into Aztroa until Sil made her way there. Mertle could handle the mission for a couple of seasons. She could always not do it if the trip there proved nothing of what Deidra had promised.


    Who’ll tell your lover then? Sarrinare’s voice whispered in her ear. Who’ll spare her the noose if you waver under the dragon’s breath?


    Mertle didn’t quite realize when she’d closed her eyes entirely. She fell asleep to the sounds of a hammer striking anvil, and dreamt of two nooses swaying in the midnight breeze.