It took time.

            The old Keep house was a fair distance away, and even pushing the set of workhorses they’d managed to buy off an old farmer to their limit, it took the remainder of the night and well into the early hours of the morning to make their way to the old building.

            As far as Kevza knew, this place had been left alone since he was a teenager, with no regular keeper or landlord after the old one passed away with no property will or surviving family. Hopefully, the Coven hadn’t fully neglected it to rot, and it was still in working condition, although with things how they were, they couldn’t afford to be picky.

            Anxiety coiled tight in his chest as he looked the overgrown yard over, making sure the house still stood unassumingly empty, at least as far as he could tell, before running a finger along the seam in the bricks, his magic seeping into the stones. There was a moment of bated breath before the fizzle of green light swirled through the mortar and the wall clicked back, stone by stone, to form an entrance.

            They hadn’t stopped along the way, aside from the small reprieve to heal the worst of their injuries, and even then, the many that remained littered over their skin were enough to cause more than a little discomfort. He had never been the greatest of healers, after all. But what they needed most now was rest. Once they managed to get through the opening and into the overgrown yard, Kevza put up a simple charm in case anyone had followed, and only then did he allow himself to slump against the wall with a heavy sigh.

            His relief was short-lived as a thread of someone else’s magic twined around him, rooting him in place.

            “Who’s there?” The mage asked, emerging from the shadows with a small shimmer of golden magic before pausing. “…Kevza?”

            The anxiety in his limbs melted away, and Kevza slumped in the magic’s hold, thinking maybe fate didn’t hate him after all if this was the worst it would give him right now. “Natavali, thank the stars.” Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes.

            “What are you doing here?” his old friend asked, letting his magic fade away.

            “I’ll tell you everything, I promise. Just let us in?” Natavali paused for a moment. “Please.” With a look down the way they had come, the Magus ushered the lot of them through the door to the house, casting a ward over it as it closed again behind them.

            Inside were easily almost a dozen Magi, ranging from kids who looked like they had only just been given permission to travel all the way up to older apprentices, Natavali’s trio among them. With a small start, Kevza realized that the Magus must have cast one of his illusions over the windows to make them look empty inside.

            “Why are you here?” Kevza asked as he looked around the room. “Shouldn’t you have taken the mountain pass back to Domen Keep? And who’s kids are these?”

            “This place b-belongs to the Coven of Darugah, Alchemist,” one of the middle-sized kids started, stuttering slightly despite the fierce look on his face. “So you can’t just-“

            “Don’t try to start that,” Kevza said sternly, cutting them off before turning back to Natavali. “No one was supposed to be here after Master Draan passed away.”

            “You were to return to Faren,” Natavali pointed out, narrowing his eyes. “By that logic, you shouldn’t be here either.”

            “There was… an accident,” Kevza managed to get out after a beat of silence, turning his gaze to the floor to hide his face. “…The guild hall is gone, and almost half of the city went with it. Hawthgrove too. I didn’t know where else we could reach that would be safe and well-hidden.”

            “Master,” Nenaat said, turning to the Magus, her blue eyes wide in the dark. “The guilds too?”

            “It is… a dire situation,” Natavali answered slowly, putting a hand on her shoulder with a comforting look. “But we have arrived here, and as he says, not many remember it even exists. Fewer still have means of entry. We’ll be safe here, for the time being.”

***

            “So… Your turn,” Kevza said to Natavali, once everyone had settled in one of the larger rooms on the first floor, Pasha going around and scrounging through cupboards for anything that could be used to ward off the night’s chill. When all he got was a confused gaze from the Magus, he tried again. “That kid of yours? Nenaat? She said, ‘the guilds too’.” He left the question to hang in the air.

            “We got word this afternoon on the way back that Domen Keep was attacked,” Natavali admitted, turning out towards the stairs, and keeping his voice pitched low. “And several of the more active Keep houses. The main barrier didn’t fall, but we were given a message not to come back until we’re told just in case the perpetrators follow through with another attempt.”

            “And these extra kids? Their master?”

            Natavali shook his head, and Kevza could feel his heart sink. “They’re Lynette’s. She was too injured to run with them. They were staying in one of the Keep houses outside of town. We ran into them on the way and brought them with us.”

            Kevza looked over, tracking their faces. They all looked so young, huddled together in the dark.

            “And Lynette?” he asked, fearing the answer. She’d been one of his childhood friends too, after all. Even now, he could imagine her soft, uplifting smile from behind the backdrops of their old haunts. It had been the three of them, when the years were younger and brighter against the backdrop of their studies.

            “Her head apprentice went with her to the nearest healer, that’s all I know. But Lynette knows how to contact me, I’m sure we’ll hear from her soon enough.”

            “This is insane,” Kevza muttered, running a hand through his hair. “This is all just… insane.”

            “You’re hurt,” Natavali said suddenly, grabbing him by the arm and inspecting his shoulder.

            “What? Oh… yeah, I got hit with some rubble in the explosions. I’ve healed the worst of it, but you know how I am with that. The rest will keep.”

            “Nonsense,” Natavali said. “Baru can handle finishing off the rest. Your team will need healing too, no doubt.” Kevza was about to refuse, but Natavali gave him a serious look. “The kids aren’t as strong as us. You need to have your strength if we end up needing to move again.”

            Looking out at the sea of dark-robed children and Noa sitting by the window, their expressions dull and shrouded, the words of protest died on his tongue. Natavali was right, he may not want to be a bother, but if it came down to it, the adults would be the ones taking the brunt of the pressure in a dire situation.

            “…alright.” He nodded, undoing the clasps on his jacket and peeling it off as they stepped into another room, Baru following with a gesture. Kevza hissed as the scab peeled off with the fabric, fresh blood trickling down his arm, but he dutifully sat still as the young mage weaved purple magic over the skin.

            He had to.

            They were already in the midst of a dire situation, after all.

***

            They waited in the old house, the children slowly shifting out with old, moth-eaten blankets they’d managed to find in the cupboards to sleep as dawn drifted over the horizon. And all was quiet as though the very world was holding its breath, no one daring to move too swiftly or speak too loudly.

            And the day once again faded into the night, and Kevza sat on the stairs, leaning against the wood and thinking to himself.

            “It’s been a day,” he thought. “It’s been a whole day since the accident. Since Nidi… it feels like no time at all, and yet it feels like forever.”

            He looked up, watching as Natavali checked around with the children as they settled in for the night once more with cold, sparse food.

            “How long can we stay here? How long until it’s safe?”

            He sighed, looking over at Noa where he huddled in the corner, the small bowl of food by his side ignored.

            “Will we ever feel safe again?”

            Suddenly, there was a glare of light at the window, making several people, Kevza included, startle. But the light swirled and settled into the small form of a bird on the windowsill, gently pecking at the glass as Natavali rushed over and let it in. It fluttered its wings a few times, before dropping a paper into his hands, sealed with dark wax. With its message delivered, the bird fizzled out in a shower of sparks. Sharing a look with the other adults, he stepped aside, moving to the upper level of the house, passing by Kevza on the stairs.

            And the waiting continued to be torture.

            Something felt… wrong was the only way Kevza could think to put it. And of course, after such a momentous shift things were bound to feel different, to feel broken. But this… there was something else teasing at the edges of his mind. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

            A while later, Natavali reappeared at the head of the stairs, his face conflicted as he turned the note from the magic messenger bird in his hands. He took several steps down, pausing at the banister and clearing his throat.

            “I have received news,” he started once he had the room’s attention, his voice and posture solemn and weary. “Magus Lynette has succumbed to her injuries.” There was a beat of tension, where the announcement had yet to sink in, and then the younger Magi began to cry, and Kevza nearly joined them. Lynette had been one of the core figures in his and Natavali’s social circle back during his days at the Keep, all bright eyes, and a brighter smile. A good study partner, a better friend. She was known for her kindness, her patience, and her wit, even then. And now she had been ripped from her place without any warning or reason.

            “You will remain under my care here,” Natavali continued. “Until such a time that the Coven feels it is safe for us to return to the Keep.”

            “How long will that be?” one of the teens asked.

            “I do not know,” Natavali admitted, sharing a heavy look with the other adults.

            Danger was everywhere. Every major guild city that could have provided them protection had to be assumed on the hit list, every mage travel house had to be considered a risk. Even here, in the cold, warped wood of Master Draan’s old coven house, long abandoned, could still be a place someone might be hunting for. After all, he and Natavali had both thought of it. Who knew who else would remember it was there?

            There was no place they could confidently call safe right now, not even the borrowed roof over their heads, but the children didn’t need to know that.