Cal was no stranger to trouble. His very existence seemed to be a magnet for it. For that reason, a partially digested severed head wasn't enough to faze him.

  Sitting with his back against a wall, he held it up, staring into the empty eyes and wondering who the poor sap had been. No one had recognized him, which left them with a conundrum. One that he'd have to face in a few hours' time.

  "Can you throw that away already?" Lily asked in a whisper, or demanded, if he considered her tone. She was lying on her side a little away from him, using her arm as a pillow. "You're being weirder than usual."

  Was it him being weird, or was it everyone else? It was just a body part, and if anyone here told him they'd never interacted with one before, he'd call them a liar. That didn't mean it was a point worth fighting over.

  "If you say so," he replied in a low voice, chucking it through the small hole they'd come from. Perhaps he was desensitized to it. Holding one's own dismembered limbs tended to do that. "Shouldn't you be sleeping?"

  That last round of beasts had taken their toll on the group, and after collecting what they needed from the defeated, they'd made camp. Unfortunately, their mounts, along with their supplies, were still missing. They were likely in the belly of a beast, but Cal was hoping they'd be okay. He was of the opinion they shouldn't even have brought them this far, but they were said to be reliable out here.

  On the bright side, there wasn't anything too essential they had been carrying. It was mostly spare clothes and medical supplies. They simply had to be more careful—a trivial task in, or under, the Waste.

  Knowing the feeding frenzy that would result after their kills, they'd traveled some distance before finding a decent-sized crevice they could squeeze into. There had been some debate about whether to return to the surface. However, the drop had not been small and his party lacked methods of flight. They could have climbed, but if they were going to take a rest, a cave was as good of an option as any. Sure, there was something strange going on, but that was the Waste in general.

  "I don't know how you do it," Lily complained to him. Her eyes traveled to where Benny and Rolland lay slumbering. They were resting upright with their backs against one another and their heads hanging low. "I get them. They took something to help, but you just close your eyes and you're out like a light."

  So that's what that flask was for. He'd been annoyed they had a nightcap without him.

  "One of my many talents," he commented, finding it strange to boast about.

  What she viewed as restful slumber was his trance. It wasn't a skill he entirely attributed to himself, as the Void had as much a part to play with it as he did. Stuck in a place where time had no meaning, he had to develop a way to block out his thoughts. That it ended up being the perfect method to 'skip' class proved his efforts were well spent.

  "Talents, sure…" Lily trailed off. She shifted to lie on her back and raised a palm. Sparks danced on her fingertips, illuminating their dark residence before they were snuffed out. "Callum, serious question. Do you know any advanced manifestations? Because I've watched you fight all day, and all I've seen you do is throw around fire."

  He had learned a few if only to prove to himself he could do it. However, none of them were fire or combat related. Well, actually, he imagined they could be fairly deadly, but he'd never used them that way.

  "Remind me, what's the score again? Because I'm pretty sure I'm kicking all of your asses combined."

  He wasn't keeping tabs on it himself, as it was a moot point. Whatever the number was, he knew it would be higher than theirs. Certainly, there had been some improvements on their part, but it wasn't near enough to bridge the gulf in their experience.

  "Yeah, that's definitely a no," she huffed, flicking a finger. A miniature bolt was released. It burst, resembling a firework. "We'll have to change that. I've felt the heat of your basic ones, and the magic you used to get that. Your affinity isn't as strong as Alie's, but it's close. Learning them should come easily. I'd ask why you hadn't already done that, but I'm guessing you'd say something stupid like 'stabbing them works wonders.'"

  He pondered what type of reaction she'd have upon learning he had no fire affinity. The heat was a product of his control, allowing him to do more with less.

  "You're wrong," he said, prompting her to turn her head toward him. Her face was blank, as if expecting what he said next. "Sometimes you have to punch really hard."

  She cracked a smile at that, rolling her eyes.

  "Silly me then. I'll try that myself next time."

  His eyes traced to her claws. It wouldn't be that much different from what she normally did.

  "How's your spear holding up?"

  Her question caught him slightly off guard, and he retrieved the weapon from where it had been resting against the wall. His magic ran through it, the flow not being as smooth as it once was.

  "About as well as your leg," he said, injecting some snark into his voice.

  Lily glanced around, presumably looking for something to throw. Sadly for her, there were limited options, and she gave up on the search.

  "You're hilarious," she said in a tone that made it clear he was anything but. She dragged her leg closer, rubbing her shin. "It's mostly fine, but I healed too quickly, and my body keeps forgetting it's not broken."

  Phantom limb syndrome, or a variation of it. He supposed it made sense, but he'd never dealt with it himself. He chalked it up to another quirk of his body.

  As much as he deflected the question, his spear was a problem. He doubted whoever forged it anticipated it being used to skewer so many beasts in quick succession.

  A rumble brought him out of his contemplation, and he placed his hand firmly against the ground, sending a pulse of magic through the stone.

  "That's the fourth one," Lily said with apprehension. "You call this stable?"

  He followed the magic through the ground, feeling out the structure of their enclave and then beyond. His face tightened as his focus increased. At the Academy or the city attached, this wouldn't be a hardship, but out here, things were a little different. The stone had a level of latent magic that made things tricky. He could, and did, draw it into himself, but doing so slowed him down. More often than not, it wasn't worth the increased chances of detection. Which was currently his primary concern.

  "To be fair," he started while withdrawing his magic, "you never asked me to define stable. That's on you more than anything." The roof would not fall on them, probably. There were no obvious cracks in their immediate vicinity, but he was no structural engineer. He didn't even know if that was the relevant expertise in this scenario. "It won't explode in your face, so that's an improvement for you, right?"

  Cal left out that it might actually explode. Latent magic could be funny like that sometimes.

  "I hate you both," Lily said with a sigh. "I'm going to try sleeping again. Let me know if we're about to die."

  He hummed in agreement, watching the entrance while listening for her breathing. It slowed, not enough to convince him she was asleep, but enough for him to believe she was giving it an honest try.

  His hand reached into his dirt-covered blazer, retrieving a bundle of notes. He thumbed through them, finding the page he left off on. Taking it out carefully, he brought it to his leg and smoothed the paper out. It was another Millie special, with an entire paragraph of her textbook crossed out and written over. He was pretty sure it had been talking about scrubbers, but with how defaced it was, he couldn't be sure. It had been replaced with a series of doodles.

  Cal sat there, racking his brain to figure out the meaning of them. He went back to the text, trying to read past the thick red lines. Evolution, study, and comparison stuck out to him. If he squinted, the drawings were that of a plant. Was Millie trying to say scrubbers were like plants?

  All living things could purge a certain level of corruption to make the magic their own. The stronger the will, the easier time they had. Plants were a little different in that they had no will to speak of. Not anymore, that is. They either withered and died, or turned into something new. His experience in growth magic meant he knew more than most, but it felt like he was missing something. He didn't want to get bogged down, and so he made a mental note and then pulled out another page.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  He was working through another sheet when the distant sound of hooves entered his augmented ear. Grasping his spear, he lightly hit Lily and then the others. They startled, but his raised palm forestalled any greater reaction. He'd been about to make hand signals before remembering these weren't Federation agents he was dealing with. He settled for raising a finger up and then pointing toward the entrance. Nods were exchanged, and they slowly gathered their weapons, being careful to not make any noise.

  Once armed, they stood still, waiting and hoping whatever it was would pass them by, but the sounds of hooves only increased in volume. As they neared, he realized they were familiar. He glanced at his companions, lowering his spear.

  "Mounts?" he mouthed the question. It sounded like them, but he found it difficult to believe they would have found their way back after all this time.

  Rolland gave a nod, but his face told Cal he was skeptical of it as well.

  Cal thought through it for a few seconds before coming to a decision. He made his way out of the crevice, feeling the faint signature of his companions behind him. If there was a fight, they would need room to maneuver.

  Their hidey-hole was situated near a pillar, and he kept a hand on it as he rounded the structure. He paused, feeling the hint of something. It had been gone in an instant, but he knew better than to ignore it. His sight flickered to the side, spotting the head he'd thrown. If that was the case…

  "Rolland, get it ready," he spoke softly, before raising his voice and bellowing. "Fair warning. I have a spear and don't know how to use it." His companions stiffened at his shout, and he lowered his voice again to clear up any confusion. "I'm actually getting the hang of it, but I want to catch them off guard."

  There were some unflattering mutters that he chose to feign deafness to. After all, he was preoccupied.

  Cal scanned the area, and in a rare instance, he preemptively formed his shell. He wasn't sure who was out here, but he had undoubtedly felt the magic of a human.

  "Scale of one to ten," Lily said, following his gaze. "How fucked are we?"

  He had no clue. It could be someone on their level or a complete monster. Running into someone out here was a first for him. The chances were slim, and he knew better than to think this was a coincidence.

  "Nine-ish," he lied, planning on being overheard. "Maybe eight, Ancestors willing."

  This close to the border, it should be someone affiliated with the Empire. The second most likely scenario would be one of his countrymen. That would be a confusing and altogether unwanted encounter.

  "Good thing I wrote a letter before leaving then," Lily quipped morosely. "Father is going to be so pissed. I wish I could see it."

  He was pretty sure she was joking.

  "We shall strike them down if it comes to it," Benjamin replied seriously, standing in front of Rolland protectively.

  Cal took note of Rolland's fingers under his breastplate, and that gave him some reassurance. The relic was a good fallback.

  "May I suggest we not rush to violence?"

  Cal looked at the crazy man like he was crazy. He wasn't opposed to the idea, but he wasn't banking on that method working.

  "Go for it, but I'll remind you that none of us looks very friendly." He waved a hand down himself, showing off the caked blood and bits of entrails that stuck to him. They were all in similar states, with Benny being marginally better off. "And odds are whoever that is favors hitting things rather than talking to them."

  Not everyone could be as reasonable as him.

  Rolland gave him a terse nod, and they spread out, forming a triangle with the prince in the center. Whoever it was, Cal was confident in buying enough time for them to activate the relic. Forcing them out of the transported radius might be tricky, but he could figure something out. He preemptively widened his connection to the void, ready to smack down this new aggressor.

  "I'd generally agree with our young friend over there," a voice said from ahead. A man stepped out from behind a pillar, their missing Terraeus in tow. He was tall and spindly, with a dark skin tone. His hair was cut so short that its color was indistinguishable, and he had purple circles drawn around his gray eyes. He wore a long, fluttering blue shirt, matched by a pair of trousers. They appeared smooth and made of silk or satin. Around his neck was a purple medallion. "However, I happen to be a diplomat."

  Cal's first thought was that the man was lost. What else would a Shirai diplomat be doing out here?

  "This is surprisingly edible!" the man said with good cheer, using a knife to cut another piece of meat off the leg Cal roasted. "More rustic than I am accustomed to, but such are our present circumstances."

  When met with such an unbelievable situation, Cal defaulted to what he knew best. Well, second best. He couldn't exactly punch a diplomat, so feeding him would have to do.

  They were seated in their camp, around a small fire they'd lit. It was reckless, and part of him wished a beast would stumble upon them. Fighting was easy; words were decidedly less so.

  Lily nudged him with her shoulder, giving him an intense look before gesturing with her head to their guest.

  Right, manners. He had those. Somewhere.

  "Thank you?"

  That was the best she was going to get out of him.

  "Quite so," the man said with a smooth smile. "Thank the Maker I stumbled upon you. To think I would find allies in such a locale!"

  Right… allies.

  The Free Cities loved to use that term. Friends to all, enemies to none, is what they'd have you believe. Things weren't quite so rosy, and Cal knew enough about history to know where their priorities lay. Which was to say, themselves. He couldn't blame them for serving their self-interest, but he did wish they would be less shameless about it. Out of the five, Shirai was the most flagrant about it.

  "Agreed, Basem. However, if my memory has not failed me, you were due to board a ship in Lochmoor which would have sent you on a coastal tour of the Empire ending at Duke Procellae's residence. You did receive the updated itinerary, did you not?"

  Lochmoor rang a bell; it was the main port of the Holy Enclave, and nowhere close to their current whereabouts.

  "Yes, yes," Basem said, nodding his head. "And it was dreadfully boring. Luckily for you, my countrymen found a solution. I received a missive informing me that they had tracked thieves of ours near your eastern border. As an Adjunctor of Shirai, it was my duty to investigate and collect the debt they had incurred."

  Cal had never met an Adjunctor. They were proteges of the City Lords and their likely replacements. For Shirai, that would be soon as The Titan was at an advanced age. It was somewhat good news, as it meant Cal did not have to add "protecting the diplomat" to his list of tasks. Basem would at least be on the level of William, likely a half step ahead. He used the term somewhat because he wasn't about to trust a man he met in the Waste.

  "Thieves?" Rolland asked with a furrowed brow. "I do not mean to discredit the work done by your fine citizens, but you're suggesting you tracked them here?"

  It was problematic. Cal had a hard enough time finding the cabin and he had lived there for years. Setting aside that, what caliber of thieves would hide out here in the first place? Not the kind he'd want to bring this group anywhere near.

  Basem did not appear offended by the query; rather, a smug smile formed on his face.

  "Indeed. One of their compatriots provided us with a quaint method in which to find their stronghold. They were very accommodating once provided the proper incentive."

  Coming from Shirai, that could mean anything from paying them off with a king's ransom to boiling them alive.

  The smooth smile plastered on Rolland's face strained, and he shared a glance with Benny, whose hands had never strayed far from his knives. Which was impressive with how much he seemed to want to jump in when Cal was preparing the roast.

  "How fortunate," Rolland said in a way that made Cal wonder if he truly thought it so. "And might I inquire if the City Lord is aware of your current whereabouts? I fear your quest strays too far from your trip's purpose. The Conference is fast approaching, and details still need to be agreed upon."

  Basem took a piece of meat, raising it to his mouth with a fork. He chewed slowly, allowing them all to wait before he delivered his next. The action was deliberate, and Cal couldn't help but feel the man was stalling. It led him to suspect Basem had abandoned his entourage and rushed here on his own account.

  "Does the Emperor know of yours?" Basem said simply, wiping his mouth with a piece of cloth.

  Rolland's face froze, and before he could muster a response, a righteous laughter erupted in the cavern.

  "Serves you right," Lily said, wiping imaginary tears from the corner of her eyes. She took some breaths, and her eyes narrowed. "Thieves, huh?" Her eyes flickered to Cal before going back to Basem. "There wouldn't happen to be a reward for them, would there?"

  There would be, and if the stories did them any justice, it would be a ludicrous one at that. It would probably be enough to buy a minor title like Anne's family had.

  "But of course," Basem said in a matter-of-fact way. "We would never cheat those who provided us aid. I even formalized it by sending a formal petition to your Right. I had yet to receive a reply before I departed on my own; however, I was pleased to learn she delivered one of your best."

  Cal looked at the gathering. None of them qualified as the Empire's 'best.' That wasn't lost on any of them, and Benny rested a hand on Rolland's shoulder before he could jump up.

  "Whatever do you mean by that?" the prince asked, barely pausing between words.

  Basem tilted his head, and at that moment, the surroundings started to shudder again. It passed, and with the roof not caved in on them, Basem replied.

  "I speak of The Tremor. Truthfully, I had thought he retired, but the men I captured nearby claimed he nearly destroyed their facility outright. It was only through calling on something they should not have that they managed to survive." He released a sigh, shaking his head. "It's a pity that he arrived prior to me. If not, we would have bested them together."

  The words triggered something in him, and Cal decided to take control of the conversation.

  "What did they call?" he asked, his eyes locked onto the man.

  "One of N—" Basem stopped himself and then continued. "A demon. From what I've observed, a Category 5. It bested your man, but the battle was fierce and the aftershocks are what we recently experienced."

  Cal's blood ran cold, his hands twitching. It took everything in his power to not jump up.

  Category 5, a walking disaster. It was the highest of classifications, simply because there was no point in rating them higher. When that number was called, you sent your best—whether they were Constellation members, Fingers, or Hands.

  "Where is it?" Cal demanded, his voice coming out with more force than intended. "And why are we sitting around?"

  He wouldn't allow that thing to reach civilization. It had to die. Whether or not it was related to his mission was irrelevant.

  "Peace, young friend," Basem said in vain. "They separated The Tremor from it before the final blow was dealt. With its summoning contract unfulfilled, it won't be able to wander. The battle was also not a one-sided affair. It was grievously wounded. I was set to challenge it myself; however, there are certain complications."

  In Cal's mind, the only complications would be finding a way to convince these guys to use the relic and get out of here. Then he could kill the thing, interrogate everyone around, and… rescue Ferguson?

  One of those was not like the others.

  "Answer the question," Cal reiterated, his mind still trying to come to grips with the situation. "Where is it?"

  Basem didn't respond immediately, instead going for his pack. He opened the glossy flap and grabbed an iron handle. The object he pulled out resembled a lantern, only instead of a flame, there was a shrivled, gremlin-looking creature. It rammed its tiny body into the glass, clawing and biting at it madly.

  A finger pointed in the direction it attacked.

  "That way," he said as if having a caged demon was an ordinary affair. "Tell me, young scions of the Empire. Do you wish to see what remains of your vaunted capital?"