Sera's hands wouldn't stop shaking.

  Not from fear, though there was plenty to be afraid of. Not from exhaustion, though she hadn't properly slept in days. No, her hands shook because the man sharing her skin was furious and his rage thrummed through her muscles like plucked bowstring.

  "If you're quite finished with the dramatics," Kersher's voice drawled in her mind, "we have work to do."

  She ignored him, focusing instead on the crude map she'd sketched in the dirt with a stick. Three towns marked with X's, each one a suspected cult location they'd found too late or just plain wrong. The cultists always seemed to be one step ahead, leaving nothing but cold hearths and cryptic symbols carved into doorframes.

  A master assassin inside my head, Sera thought, and he can’t remember where he was ressurrected

  "This is useless," Kersher said. "We need to…"

  "Shut up." Sera pressed her fingers to her temples. "Just... shut up for one minute and let me think."

  To her surprise, he did. The constant pressure of his presence remained, like a storm gathering behind her eyes, but he held his tongue. Small mercies.

  She traced lines between the towns, trying to find a pattern. The cult was moving, yes, but where? And why did each abandoned site feel more rushed than the last, as if they were running from something?

  "They're not running," Kersher said quietly. "They're confusing anyone on their trail."

  Sera's hand stilled. "What?"

  "Look at the pattern. Each site, they leave in a different direction, but they always seem to point…" He tried to move her hand, and she felt the familiar internal tug-of-war as they fought for control of her fingers. After a moment's resistance, she let him guide her hand, drawing a line that curved through all three points before extending northeast. "…there. Haven's Rest."

  "The Free city?" Sera had heard stories of Haven's Rest, mostly from travelers passing through her village. A place where Empire law held no sway, where anything could be bought or sold for the right price. The city for all and everyone, that contained all and everyone. Sera had never liked city life that much. "Why would they go there?"

  "Beats me. Probably due to the travelling shrines and the nearby temples. Cultists tend to love that kind of crap."

  ?Temples??

  ?You know, for the pilgrimages. Only reason to pass through that backwater shitstain. I know you’re a simple villager, but you’re not that simple.?

  Sera raised and eyebrow, before chuckling. ?You do realize Haven’s Rest is the largest free city on the continent??

  ?What??

  ?Yes,? Sera said. She studied the line he'd drawn. Haven's Rest was at least a week's journey, assuming they could find transport. Longer on foot, and they were running dangerously low on coins. ?I’ve never been there, but it is where all trade between the East, the North and the Empire pass through. It's famous.?

  "You don’t say. Never would’ve bet on that horse.? Kersher became silent, and Sera could feel him thinking.

  ?Well, we don't have much choice," Kersher eventually said. "Unless you'd prefer to keep stumbling around in the dark while they get further away?"

  "No." Sera scrubbed out the map with her boot. "But we do this my way."

  Kersher's laughter felt like ice water down her spine. "Your way? Your way got us robbed by those bandits two days ago."

  "And your way got three of them killed!"

  "Exactly. No witnesses, no one to follow us, and we got our few coins back. Efficient."

  Sera closed her eyes, counting breaths like her mother had taught her. Calm the mind, settle the spirit. Hard to do with a murderer's ghost riding horseback in your skull.

  "Fine," she said finally. "We'll compromise. I handle the talking, you handle any actual fighting we can't avoid. And we try to avoid it."

  "Trying to avoid fighting usually leads to worse fighting later," Kersher said, but she felt his grudging acceptance. "Still, might be smart to keep a low profile heading into Haven's Rest. Sounds like the place has changed since my day, but I doubt they've gotten friendlier to obvious trouble."

  Sera picked up her healer's bag, notably lighter than it had been a week ago, and slung it over her shoulder. "Then we're agreed. No unnecessary violence."

  "Agreed." Kersher's presence settled into that watchful state she'd come to recognize as him scanning their surroundings. "Although, we might want to discuss what counts as 'necessary' before we..."

  The crossbow bolt took them in the shoulder.

  Sera's body moved before her mind could process what was happening, Kersher's combat instincts throwing them behind a tree as two more bolts thudded into the bark. Her shoulder blazed with pain, but Kersher forced her arm to move, checking the wound even as he kept them pressed against the tree.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  "Shallow," he said. "Dropped speed hitting your bag strap. Three shooters, maybe four. Two in the trees ahead, one flanking left."

  "How..." Sera started to ask, then felt him trying to take control. "No! We said..."

  "We said no unnecessary violence," Kersher replied. "Pretty sure getting shot at makes this necessary. Now let me deal with this before they reload, or we can keep arguing while they kill us. Your choice."

  Sera hesitated for one heartbeat, two, then surrendered control. The shift was like being dunked in ice water, her consciousness pushed back as Kersher took the reins. She could still feel everything; the rough bark against their back, the hot throb of the wound, the way their muscles coiled like springs,but now she was the passenger, watching through her own eyes as Kersher prepared to move.

  He was already pulling the bolt from their shoulder, movements precise despite the pain. ?Count of three,? he muttered, though whether to her or himself, she wasn’t sure. ?One…?

  He burst from cover before reaching two.

  Their body moved with a liquid grace Sera could never manage on her own, rolling under another volley of bolts and coming up with the extracted arrow in hand. Kersher threw it like a knife, and Sera felt the impact shiver up their arm as it found one of the shooters. The man fell from his perch with a cry that cut off suddenly.

  ?Left,? Sera warned, spotting movement in her peripheral vision. Kersher was already moving, using their momentum to slide beneath a low branch as another bolt whizzed overhead. He snatched up a fist-sized rock without breaking stride, hurled it at the second shooter’s tree. The man ducked, losing his balance, and Kersher’s second rock took him in the temple as he fell.

  The third shooter broke cover, abandoning his crossbow to draw a sword. He wore the same dark robes they’d found in the abandoned cult sites, but this one had silver threads running through the fabric, marking him as someone of rank.

  ?Finally,? Kersher said with the voice of Sera, their lips curving into a smile that was wrong on Sera’s face. ?Someone who wants to talk.?

  The cultist circled them warily, blade held in a guard position that spoke of actual training. ?How are you alive?? he said. ?You were a means to an end. You weren’t supposed to survive this long.?

  ?Funny thing about death,? Kersher replied, keeping their body loose and ready as they matched the cultist’s movements. ?She and I have an understanding, you see.?

  ?You weren’t even supposed to be here.? The cultist’s eyes narrowed. ?The girl’s simplicity was perfect, just one among many… but we didn’t think it’d actually work. You? A spirit with enough will to manifest, but not enough power to resist the binding, he said, but most of us didn’t believe it. Just another con artist, we thought."

  Sera felt Kersher’s rage spike, felt their fingers curl into fists. ?Convenient,? he said, and their voice was deadly soft. ?You used me. Used us. Bound us, made us kill that noble. Why? And who is 'he'??

  ?The death was necessary, he said. The method was… flexible. A Sinner to kill a Sinner.? The cultist gave them a thin smile. ?Though I must admit, you exceeded expectations. Both of you. Perhaps we should..."

  Kersher moved.

  One moment they were ten paces apart, the next Kersher had crossed the distance and knocked the sword aside with their forearm. The cultist was good, his free hand was already drawing a knife,but Kersher was better. Their left hand caught his knife arm, their right slammed into his throat with almost precisely calculated force. Kersher still wasn't entirely used to Sera's strength, or lack thereof.

  The cultist dropped, gasping, and Kersher followed him down. Their fingers found pressure points in his neck, applying just enough pressure to be agonizing without cutting off his air completely.

  ?Where,? Kersher asked pleasantly, ?are the rest of you going??

  ?Go to hell,? the cultist wheezed.

  ?Been there.? Kersher increased the pressure slightly. ?Didn’t care for the company. Now, about my question…?

  ?You can’t stop what’s coming,? the cultist said. ?Haven’s Rest… the ritual… everything proceeds as planned. He was right about you. He is right. You’re just a loose end. Irrelevant.?

  Sera felt Kersher’s intentions crystallize. ?No,? she said. ?We need him alive!?

  ?He’ll warn the others,? Kersher said. ?Better to..."

  ?He already told us what we need to know,? Sera pressed. ?Haven’s Rest. A ritual. We’re getting confirmation of everything we suspected. We don’t need to kill him."

  The cultist moved suddenly, producing another knife from somewhere in his robes. Kersher caught his wrist, but not before the blade scored a line across their ribs. They grappled briefly, rolling across the forest floor, until Kersher managed to get leverage.

  ?Stop!? Sera shouted, forcing her way back into control. Their body seized up as she and Kersher fought for dominance, muscles trembling with the strain of opposing impulses. The cultist took advantage of their distraction, kicking free and scrambling away.

  ?Damn it!? Kersher raged as the cultist disappeared into the underbrush. ?We had him! We could have..."

  ?Could have what?? Sera demanded. ?Killed him? Like you killed that noble? Like you killed those bandits? How many more deaths do you need??

  ?As many as it takes to fix this!? Their fist slammed into a tree, and Sera wasn’t sure which of them had done it. ?They used us. They bound us. I am stuck here. We are stuck here. For some fucked up fanatic ritual, and you want to show mercy??

  ?Yes!? Sera pressed their hand against the shallow cut on their ribs, calling up her minor healing magic to slow the bleeding, wisps of Blue forming around the wound like smoke. ?Because that’s what's right. Because every death weighs on us, on me, and I won’t be party to any more than necessary. I don't want to take part in any death!"

  Kersher’s anger was a storm behind their eyes, but she felt the exact moment he reined it in. Their breathing slowed, their muscles unclenching as he forced their shared body to relax.

  ?Haven’s Rest,? he said finally. ?At least we know where they’re going. And that cultist will warn them we’re coming.?

  ?Good.? Sera began gathering their scattered belongings. ?Let them know. Let them run. Because this time, we’re not just stumbling around hoping to catch them. This time we know where they’re going, and that they are staying there.?

  ?A ritual,? Kersher mused. ?Something big enough to need Haven’s Rest’s resources and isolation. Something worth ressurrecting a dead bastard.? He paused, and she felt his grudging respect. ?You’re right. Better they’re afraid and prepared than relaxed and ready. Fear makes people sloppy.?

  Sera shouldered their pack, wincing at the pull on their wounded shoulder. ?Then we have our direction. Though we should probably find a better healer for this shoulder before we go.?

  ?Already on it.? Kersher guided their hand to the wound, and Sera felt the familiar warmth of the Blue Arts rise up, something she’d usually avoid. The Color Arts scared her just a little, and her affinity was rather weak, anyway. But this time it felt… different. Focused. Intent. ?Damn, this feels weird. Figured it might be useful.?

  ?You… you can use my Color??

  ?Yes. Somewhat,? he corrected. ?I’m not a Blue, so it’s all weird and wrong. Turns out, however, that your connection to life and my understanding of death make an interesting combination. And since we’re stuck together…?

  ?We might as well combine our skills,? Sera finished. She felt his agreement, and for the first time since this nightmare began, she felt something almost like they were working together. ?Haven’s Rest, then. Ready to be the devil they know is coming??

  Their lips curved in a smile that, for once, felt right on both their faces. ?My dear,? Kersher said, ?I thought you’d never ask.?

  As they began to walk, he sighed from within Sera’s mind. ?It’d be a lot simpler if only you had a connection to the Red Arts, though.?