“You’re back early.”

Asterin sighed as she leaned against the bar counter. A few of the regulars she ran into on the train had followed her all the way back to the inn. No doubt to ensure she either came clean to Faraldin or, if not, that they reported her treachery.

Faraldin glanced between them and her as he cleaned a glass, only needing to raise an eyebrow to prompt her to spill everything.

“Farran was killed by the Kratises Brothers for his betrayal, as was his family.” She pulled the heavy satchel she took from his safety deposit box and placed it on the counter.

He clicked his tongue. “Never a smart idea to turn out one deal for another. Hard to find out what the true consequences will end up being.”

Still, he took the satchel away, not bothering to check the amounts within and placing it behind the bar. “What else?”

Asterin glanced around the inn, a bit wary that perhaps some Wanderers snuck in with the usual crowds. They were a quick and efficient lot, some trained by her brother himself.

She leaned in closer to the innkeeper, whispering, “Some of the Wanderers found me out. I lost them, I think. But they know to look out for this face.”

Faraldin’s hand shook a bit, and he almost dropped the glass. But with an almost unnatural swiftness he recovered himself.

Closing his eyes, he sucked in a deep breath, letting it out in a slow huff before motioning for her to follow him to the back where the kitchens were.

“Where’s Cook?” Asterin asked, noting the absence of the scraggly meal who cooked the best meals she had eaten in centuries.

“Gave him a break ‘cause it’s his husband’s birthday. Now, look,” Faraldin placed a hand on her shoulder and leaned down so they were eye to eye, “tell me exactly what happened.”

And Asterin did. She told him about the package and the attack that happened as she was leaving, of how the Wanderers saved her ass and insisted they bring her to the rail station, and then of how she lied—a lie that they caught on to.

Faraldin’s expression hardened the further along she got in her explanation. Several times he requested she run through the scenario, of returning to some of the most minute details of the conversation the two brothers had during their work, and if she noticed anyone odd following her on the way back from the rail station, which she was certain was no one besides the regular patrons.

“But we can just change my Glamour again, right?”

He shook his head. Her stomach dropped.

“No, they’re aware of your presence and perhaps know who you are. At the very least, you’re on their radar as a person of interest.”

Asterin’s mind slipped back to what she had heard before about herself.

“Faraldin, if they think I’m the one who summoned the Shadowfaen… there’s no more hope up here for me, is there?” Her voice cracked towards the end, her eyes burning as she realized it wasn’t a question worth asking.

She already knew the answer.

Faraldin shook his head. “I’ll think of something. Just… stay low and keep to waitressing. No outside jobs for now, yeah?”

Asterin nodded. Yes, that would be good. She would rather not worry and, if anyone could solve the mystery of how to remain a ghost in this city, it would be the Sky’s greatest fixer.

He walked past her and resumed his position at the bar, continuing to clean glasses and whistle that short tune of his.

Asterin followed his lead and turned to do what she knew best—and which helped her empty her mind of any thoughts: waiting tables. Few patrons sat in the tavern, however, so she found herself less busy than usual, which meant her mind did exactly what she hoped to avoid—wandering off into places she would rather it did not.

For one, she wondered how her brother was doing. Did he know about the allegations? Did he choose to follow up on them, to try to get some sense from her, or did he believe them? Did he think that her ex-husband corrupted her?

Second, she thought back to Meren and Seren. Back then, before her husband’s crimes brought her House into the limelight, the two never knew the full extent of her family’s history. But now they did. They must have hated her now, especially Seren, knowing that it was her ancestor’s who brought the Shadowfaen beyond the Val and caused all of the chaos that followed… that caused his parents’ deaths. Did they search for her to guarantee her end by their hand? A way to get revenge?

And third… something seemed to pass over Faraldin. A heaviness that weighed his shoulders down even as he conversed with his patrons, grin on his face. She first noticed it upon their return that morning, after he found out about the two Wanderer brothers.

Once the few tables she managed closed out, she headed up to her room in the hopes of getting some sleep.

#

Several hours passed with Asterin staring at her ceiling. She couldn’t even claim to be tired, as her muscles buzzed with anticipation, with an urge that always remained at the edge of her mind ever since she first entered the capital.

The need to run away.

She sat up from bed, a long sigh leaving her as she stared at her clasped hands. Would it be worth it? It would just leave her in the same position, perhaps worse off without Faraldin at her side. And if anything happened to her, the Promise would activate…

I don’t want him to die because of me.

The sentiment frightened her. Why did she care about a random man, a criminal? He perhaps killed just as many people as her ex-husband did, maybe more, on top of ruining livelihoods for the sake of some coin.

Her left hand warmed. She narrowed her eyes.

This damned Promise…

She gritted her teeth and looked out the window of her room.

The moon shined bright in the sky, providing a ghostly glow to the people below who milled throughout the streets. In adjacent to the Guardians who normally lined the sidewalks, there no stood Wanderers as well. Not nearly in the same amount of numbers, but enough that people avoided them as they passed—causing a bit more traffic in the middle of the street as people congregated from either side.

Her mind wandered to Androsa, to the shop with many curiosities. How had she managed to get all of those items, if not using the Valkyr? Did she have a smuggler? Maybe someone who could help Asterin escape the Skies..?

Before Asterin realized what she was doing, she had grabbed her enchanted cloak and slid into the hallway. She walked carefully, aware oft he floorboards that could alert the other workers to her presence. She didn’t need Faraldin seeing her breaking her vow—he would lock her up otherwise, probably.

Lifting the window at the end of the hallway, she sucked in a deep breath. A part of her wondered if she should turn back and wait for Faraldin to come up with something.

I need to at least try.

She slipped out the window and onto the fire escape, quickly descending and blending in with the crowd as she headed south, down to Gloom Avenue.

#

Despite the crowds lining the streets, Androsa’s shop once again possessed no customers.

The bell dinged above Asterin, who found the shop looking exactly as it did before. Dust particles and all.

“Androsa?” Asterin called out, walking further into the shop.

Something about the stillness unnerved her. At the counter, she found a cup of tea—its herbal scent Asterin recognized as green tea. But no steam rose from it. A dip of her finger confirmed its coldness.

Footsteps creaked from behind the curtain. But they sounded faint, almost hesitant.

Asterin used her Sight. The entire shop was covered in glistening reds and oranges. A warning only she could see.

The hairs on the back of her neck raised. She walked to the wall display of weapons, grimacing through the pain of going against the wards as she grabbed a random weapon. Glancing down, she noted her reflection in the curved blade of the kukri.

The Gods seem to be on my side, she thought as she approached the curtain. She used to pester her brother for months to train her in combat, yet her family shot the idea down due to her weak heart and told her to focus on learning the ways of court. She instead skipped her lessons to mirror his movements as he went through his training sessions, and the kukri was one of the weapons she found easiest to use.

Her heart ached as she recalled how her brother eventually caught her and, instead of turning her in to their uncle, assisted her in training under his nose.

Asterin’s grasp tightened on the kukri’s handle as she passed through the curtain.

Only to find Androsa on the other side, hunched over with one hand on a shelf and another on a gash across her abdomen.

“Androsa!” Asterin dropped the blade and rushed toward the woman, who startled and fell to the ground.

But Asterin caught her, lowering gently.

“What happened?” Asterin asked, pressing her hands over Androsa’s wrinkly and frail ones.

“Of course you would be the one to find me,” the shopkeeper shook her head. Asterin’s brow furrowed at her wistful tone. “They wanted to find you, Amon, but I made sure not to tell them. You must make sure to tell Him I didn’t.”

“Androsa, it’s me, Asterin. We met two weeks ago…”

The shopkeeper shook her head with a sad smile. “You don’t have to hide it, you’re the only one who would have that Mark. Any follower of His knows this.”

More and more confusing. Asterin chalked it up to her losing so much blood.

“I’ll get a Guardian. You need a healer.” Asterin stood but was yanked down by Androsa with far more strength than she thought the old woman would still have.

“No,” Androsa grunted. “No, this is necessary.”

Asterin’s mouth fell open. She can’t possibly mean to—

“No death is necessary,” Asterin said. “Especially those which can be prevented.”

“If I die now, it will mean something. It won’t make sense now—not with as you are, but in the future you will understand. When you have seen countless deaths, you will realize that every death means something. Why else would Piho exist?”

Asterin grit her teeth. No, living meant something. Why couldn’t Androsa see as much?

Androsa leaned her head forward until their foreheads touched. A pit formed in Asterin’s stomach as she closed her eyes. Why were her cheeks so warm? Why did her body feel so heavy?

“You came here to ask for a favor, didn’t you? A way to go to the Surface?”

“How did you—“

“A little bird, you could say.”

But the only person who knows my current situation is Faraldin, and he would have stopped me from leaving… right?

“In order to get through a Sky Lift nowadays, you need a Celestial Key from the Wanderers. That’s all I can tell you.”

A knock sounded at the front door. “Androsa Ivermenta?”

Androsa tightened her grip on Asterin’s hands before letting them go, reaching for a knife from a pocket in her skirt.

“The Wanderers have been asking questions about you all throughout the Lower City. It’s only a matter of time.”

Asterin’s eyes widened as Androsa brought the knife to her neck.

“Then tell them a lie. Don’t die for my sake.”

Androsa only sent her a wry smile. “One of the greatest gifts the Divines can give us is a choice in how we die.”

And with a careful and steady slash, Androsa brought the knife from one side of her neck to the other. Asterin winced. No blood was lost, but the life quickly left her eyes.

Asterin took care to close them.

Another knock. “Ms. Ivermenta?”

Asterin’s hands shook at the voice. The very same one that called out to her when the dignitary was killed. He wouldn’t be able to recognize her, but…

She looked at the scene around her, at the kukri in her hand.

She needed to run.

The front door burst open. “Check the shop and behind the curtain. See where she is.”

Asterin looked at the many windows lining the back of the shop. It would be messy, and lead to a chase, but it was her only hope.

Footsteps approached the curtain.

In a few quick steps she was at one of the windows.

“What the—"

She smashed it open with the kukri.

“Hey!”

She jumped.

A pair of fingers barely grazed her hand, a spark running across her skin as she landed only a few feet below. Her knees ached at the impact, but she began running, joining the crowd and allowing herself to blend in until she too believed that she was just enjoying a regular night out.

No… that couldn’t be right. Not with what she had just seen. Her hands slightly shook to the point that she hid them in her pockets. It wasn’t the first time she had seen someone get killed. Then why—

Because she died for a lie. For this Amon person…

Just who was Amon to make her want to take her own life for them…?