The friends sat in silence for a moment after what they just saw.

The waiter shrugged and walked away, unimpressed.

“Barbarians!” shrieked Nadine, twitching more violently than ever. “The barbarians are here!”

This time, Solynn did not attempt to correct her language.

“It can’t be,” she frowned. “The war is over.”

Even if Solynn was wrong, how could the enemy be in here in the Valley of Heroes, the capital of the Empire? The Northern Snowlanders, who advanced farthest into Centralian territory over the course of the war, had gotten only halfway to the capital.

Gouffer and Kati coaxed Nadine to drink some more sorghum wine to calm herself.

“Probably part of some celebration of the end of the war,” grumbled Kati. “Did you know that nowadays they can shoot firecrackers into the sky?”

“Yes, it landed in the First Ring,” said Gouffer.

The closer to the village center, the deeper were the inhabitants’ purses. First Ring housed Imperial officials who spent their infinite wealth pushing the line between mischief and madness.

Satisfied with this explanation, the friends snapped separate their chopsticks and beheaded the bass. The fattiest part of the belly was pushed around the group—first to Solynn, because she was eating for two, next to Nadine, because she needed to replenish her mind, and then to Kaleb, because he ought to be rewarded for fighting in the war. Ultimately, and unsurprisingly, it ended up on Sorsei’s plate, because, as Kaleb said, “You’re the cutest, my darling!”

At this, Sorsei giggled, leaned down to press her ear against Sanie’s abdomen, and whispered, “Will you be cute too?”

Sanie stilled. Did they hear? Did Kaleb hear? They must not know. A mortal woman would not feel her pregnancy this early. As a Tyist, she sensed the mass of differentiating tissues developing inside her, but she must wait until her pregnancy was more obvious before telling Kaleb. But she had told her daughter.

Across the table, Gouffer had an odd look on his face. Did he suspect?

But in fact, he was looking behind her towards the northeast, where more masses flew through the air. She turned around to watch the projectiles. They came closer this time, but it was still difficult to make them out.

She pushed Sorsei away and back onto Kaleb’s lap. He was holding an animated conversation with Tin about the various ways that Islanders cooked their shrimp. Sanie told him not to wave around the sharp skewer as he spoke.

Sanie tried to enjoy her shrimp, but she was sitting right across from Gouffer, who was watching the projectiles, hunching his shoulders and grimacing.

Presently, the waiter came over with another jar of sorghum wine.

“Good man!” roared Kaleb, and he thumped the waiter on the back.

The waiter removed the lid and was about to start pouring when he dropped the entire jar. He was looking upwards, and the color faded from his impassive face. The wine seeped across the tablecloth.

Gouffer leapt up from his chair, followed by Kati, but they weren’t looking at the spilled wine. They stared up, in the same direction as the waiter. Sanie and Kaleb turned around.

A carriage in the air, rotating and eliciting cries from down below as it eclipsed the distance between them in seconds and landed a hundred foot-spans away. Instead of merely collapsing into wooden splinters, it exploded in a great infernal fireball. The ground shook, and their plates shattered, and the spine of the bass folded upon itself as their rickety little table collapsed.

“GO! GO! GO!” Kaleb was yelling in her ear, but his voice sounded muffled, as if coming through a filter.

A small house was flying towards them. This one would land closer. Suddenly, she realized what was inside the carriage and inside the house—Focal Ties charged with source energy.

Tyists were attacking them. Her own source energy raced through her—tingling, burning, and yearning to be released after being suppressed for the four years since she entered the Academy. She would deflect the house with a Reverse Spiral Tie—but Kaleb grabbed her and yanked her away.

Kaleb! He did not and could not know that she was a Tyist.

He held Sorsei in one arm and pulled her along with the other. Her legs were numb and propelling her by their own accord. To her right were Kati and Gouffer, sprinting as fast as they could. She heard the house land and felt the ground shake.

“DON’T STOP! MOVE! MOVE!” yelled Kaleb. The explosion unfurled behind them, knocking her off balance.

She was on the ground, and the ground was spinning. Source energy danced across her face, healing her cut lips and broken nose. Tin was helping Solynn sit up. Their forearms were bleeding, and blood was coming from their ears too.

She crawled over to Tin and Sorsei, put a hand over their ears. Cloud-white source energy emerged from her fingers. Her friends were in too much pain and shock to notice as she used Tyistry to repair the membranes in their ears.

The brevity of human relationships! Four years whispering into each other’s ears, and in the end, if she had to choose, she would still leave with Kaleb and Sorsei without a second thought.

“Dear Meira,” croaked Kati. “Nadine! Where is Nadine?”

They looked towards the flames that engulfed Chao’s Seafood Hut.

“No,” wailed Gouffer. “NO! NO! NO!”

“NADINE! NADINE!” In her anguish, Kati had the strength of four grown men. But this was nowhere near the strength of a Tyist, and Sanie held her back as she tore savagely towards the flames.

Sorsei buried her face into Kaleb’s shoulder, and Solynn and Tin sobbed freely. All around them people were crying, screaming for help, and yelling for their family.

“I don’t understand,” croaked Gouffer. “Is the war starting again?”

“No,” said Tin, trembling. “This is the rebellion.”

Another barrage of carriages, trees, and pieces of buildings appeared in the sky, spinning, twirling, and no doubt containing exploding Focal Ties.

“We got to move!” shouted Kaleb. “Up towards the Imperial City!”

“No!” cried Tin. “That’s where the explosives are coming from!”

“Everyone’s going in that direction,” said Solynn. “Best if we follow along.”

It was true. The village inhabitants formed a scared, confused, and injured herd migrating uphill towards the Imperial City. The walled complex, which housed the Imperial family, was designed as a citadel at the center of the Valley of Heroes.

“Why are the protests a day early?” asked Sanie.

“There were rumors that Imperial Tyists found out about the plans,” said Solynn, “so some wanted to change the date to maintain the element of surprise.”

“But we overruled that,” said Tin. “Surprise is not important. It’s meant to be a peaceful demonstration. Dear Meira, is that the work of Tyists?”

The migrating crowd grew denser each time another projectile flew overhead.

Tyists are capable of that, and of much more. Not the ones in the Academy, Sanie noted. They were scholars at heart, not soldiers.

Someone stepped on Sanie’s foot. A deranged woman clung onto Gouffer, spewing incoherently, and Sanie had to yank her off. She looked at Sorsei in Kaleb’s arms. If worst came to worst in this ridiculous situation, she could resort to Tyistry and evacuate them. Kaleb would lose his trust and worship of her, so maybe he wasn’t worth saving. But she had to save Sorsei.

“Let Sorsei walk on her own,” she said to Kaleb. “I’ll hold her hand.”

“But—she’d get run over by the crowd.”

“I can take care of her. Anyways, if we get separated, she should be with her mother.”

Kaleb hesitated but put Sorsei down.

As they entered the First Ring, the pace of the crowd slowed. They could not see what was in the front, only the top of the golden wall of the Imperial City in the distance.

“NOT YOUR TOOLS! NOT YOUR WAR MACHINES. NOT YOUR TOOLS!”

The crowd around Sanie grew still, and then they were pushed back by those in front of them.

Then rising cries—“They’re firing at the front! Run! RUN!”

What little order remained in the crowd disappeared as people scattered back downhill. Their wails and the explosion of Focal Ties mixed with the chants of the Tyists, “NOT YOUR WAR MACHINES! NOT YOUR TOOLS!”

They were chased to the fashion district in the Second Ring, where mannequins posed in summer skirts and hats, unsympathetic to their plights. Sanie tried to keep her friends in sight. The clear rivulets that crisscrossed the district now ran red, staining the clothes of those who ran across them in haste.

Out of nowhere, a Tyist descended upon them, wielding a Focal Tie in each hand.

Definitely not an Academy student. She wore the uniform of the Imperial Tyists, but a dark red slash crossed the insignia.

The rebel Tyist looked at Tin. “Step away from the woman and show me your hands!”