I would be willing to testify before a judge that there was a dull echo when I smacked Jimbo upside the head, “We weren’t supposed to kill anyone, jackass!”

  “Oh, lighten up, James.” Tawny in turn smacked me in the back of the head, “The plan was about to fall apart. Would you rather have explained to Io how I died? We both know you’re the one he considers most responsible for this mission, right?”

  I hated to admit it, but she was right. Tawny herself was making great strides in sorcery and made a convincing Cira, but she abhorred anything that required responsibility. Perhaps it was a trait inherited from her teacher, but if she weren’t in charge of agricultural development, Tawny would probably just fight golems and conjure random materials all day.

  “Fine. Perhaps Jimbo averted a worse outcome—”

  “I’ll drink to that.” And Jimbo did what he did best.

  “Perhaps,” I stressed. Obviously, I wouldn’t have wanted Tawny to die, but our mages were seconds away, a few feet from Jimbo the killer. We could have at least tried another route. “Do you even know who you killed?”

  It was a serious question. The identity of this man who remained in this world as mere ankles and feet would very likely determine the ripples our victory here would form across the Boreal.

  “Just some water mage, he said.” Tawny shrugged, “But he could control nature, wood, and probably earth and light as well. There was something creepy about that staff he had. It held a flower that completely turned my mind blank. Scary stuff.”

  “Well, he ain’t a witch. We know that much.” Jimbo didn’t have much to contribute as expected.

  I let out a long sigh and watched the wooden palace burn. Sweat poured down my face in the heat all the way from Jimbo’s new and improved warship.

  “Let’s not focus on our failures.” I felt Lero’s hand on my shoulder as a single Blackwood ship disappeared into the horizon. “We all survived. And the people of Dolliver are free. It’s time to rebuild.”

  I knew it would spell trouble down the road to let all Blackwood personnel, except the deceased, flee home. Still, I believed it was the right thing to do. We were allowed to use Cira’s name and the Mortal Council even sanctioned this attack, but I don’t think genocide would do much to make the Boreal better. Besides, there were likely clueless fools just trying to take care of their family in these mills. It wouldn’t surprise me to hear the only one here who knew the depth of Blackwood’s sinister nature lay dead in a crater.

  If only I could say that was the reasoning behind our orders. Apparently sparing everyone in our conquest would send a message not only to the Gandeux, but to the people living in these skies. Of course, the others were following the same orders. We were to demonstrate our overwhelming power on multiple fronts simultaneously in the course of a single hour.

  Overwhelming, my ass. We’re not Cira.

  Alas, that was the whole point.

  “Fine then… Give me that.” Jimbo gave me a look of betrayal when I snatched the flask from his hands. I actually got to brandish my sword today, and it was surprisingly satisfying to defeat all their guards without killing a single one. Hopefully, they would live tell their grandchildren about it one day. “Well done, everyone.”

  As we shared a celebratory cheer, Gil floated up from below and landed on deck. “James, the people of Dolliver are all gathered and the Governor is waiting to speak with our Captain.” He gave Tawny a chuckle and a wink.

  “Perfect timing.” Tawny broke away and conjured a flaming sword at her back, “Have my team spread seeds and get ready for the reforestation. I’ll be with you shortly.”

  “I’m on it.” With an explosion, Gil was gone.

  “Jimbo, bring us down.” Tawny simply jumped off—I would be right behind. “I hate to say it, but showing your face might help quell some of the residents' worries.”

  “It always does.” Jimbo took the flask back and used another one of his shiny new levers to loosen the canopy sails.

  ___

  Prophet’s Peak was likely the most depressing place I had ever been stationed. As far as duties went, I hadn’t had such menial work in over a century. I pulled silver from a cart then delivered it to the temple. Once it was fully blessed by whichever priest was on duty, I then locked it away in the vault for weekly pickup.

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  It felt like a vacation and chance for much needed freedom to think, but I knew my career in Earth Vein was over when Silver Witch shoved me here. This mountain was the very same one the Crag Witch was stationed after she refused to rob a smalltime merchant of a skiff full of mithril.

  Big surprise, my orders were to temporarily learn her duties.

  I never really thought about why Earth Vein was here, but lately it begged the question.

  This is a holy site, isn’t it? I never believed in that stuff, but if the Hidden Witch and Saint exist, why shouldn’t the prophet have? It is said he used this place to found the Church of the Final Sky, and that he once channeled divine energy using the entirety of the mountain.

  Many times had I seen priests bless a block of silver, but it took hardly twenty minutes to bless a much larger amount of material here. As far as I could figure, that implied the silver here was once blessed long ago. The holy mana had simply faded.

  While I still don’t follow the final sky, it was increasingly difficult to claim the Far Prophet never lived.

  Unlike normal mining operations, the carts here were all the size of a small house, or a large shed. This was because witches like me pushed them around instead of mortal men. Now that my cart was full, it was time to push open the grand silver doors.

  Raw sunlight flooded the cavern as I reached the end of the tracks. Pastor Sheffield awaited me at the top of the dias.

  “Madam Quartz, I hope the evening treated you well. You are as radiant ever in the morning light.” He seemed relatively familiar with Crag whenever he didn’t think I was looking, but the man kept me at arm’s length quite efficiently. I couldn’t blame him. I was here to dismantle his object of worship and sell it to distant lands, after all.

  “At ease, Sheffield.” I lifted the silver up and poured it around the altar. “Shall we begin?”

  He unclasped his hand and approached with a solemn nod, “Let’s. I do not wish to hold you up, Madam.”

  “I wonder…” It did not feel good to have him hang his head like a dog at my whim, so I tried to ease him up while satisfying my curiosity a bit. “To what end were you just praying? I am not a believer, but… would you tell me?”

  I watched him restrain a smile, “If you do not mind listening, I pray only for the Saint’s grace. But there is nothing which fills me with greater guilt.”

  At once I realized the depth of his feelings. He dreaded to see one such as I, but nothing I had observed since opening the doors had anything to do with me. This man felt such pure remorse about asking his savior for help in these dark times that a High Coven Witch was just another snake in the field.

  “I… don’t understand. Is she not destined to bring you to the dawn? As far as I’ve read, shouldn’t you be elated at her supposed appearance?” A bitter look crossed his eyes, but he leaned against his podium—or perhaps the prophet’s podium—before turning a gentle smile.

  “Don’t you get it, Madam Quartz? No one but the sky knows the difference between right and wrong. There is speak of a new prophet deep within the caverns of Fount Salt who prevented a flood from drowning his people. Countless generations of his people and their traditions were almost wiped out in the blink of an eye by the Saint’s grace. Salvation was her goal, ultimately achieved, but we nearly witnessed a catastrophe.”

  “Wait… What do you mean?” Everything I had heard about the ambiguous saint, I didn’t understand how she would kill people en masse like that.

  “The Saint, you see, could not sit idly by while thousands withered away to the plague. The night closes in on all of us, but its focus is none other than our Lost lamb. Having strayed from the herd to be reborn in these very skies, she knows not what awaits on the horizon. While she chases the sun, night passes us by in its pursuit. Tell me, what would you do if a stranger were dying on the street of a common cold, but an enemy was closing in to take your life?”

  In my long life, this was a conundrum I had never encountered. Sure, Earth Vein had enemies, but Madam Silver took care of them.

  “I… I don’t know.” I gave him the most honest answer I could.

  “If the Saint stopped moving, night would consume us all. The only way for her to grow strong enough to repel it is to continue her path, but again, I ask you. What would you do with the poor vagrant bleeding out onto the cobble?” I was well and truly stumped. I wondered what kind of person the Saint may be, but I had never thought about what they had done to become that way or what they had been through.

  Noticing I had no reply, Sheffield continued, “She had very little time, and her work was not as thorough as even she had wished, I’m sure. The fact is, she is new to this life, to these skies. Good intentions aside, she is not capable of saving everyone. She did not have time to treat Fount Salt with greater care, and it was that land’s own people who prevented disaster ultimately. She just gave them a clean slate and new hope. To beg for salvation from a young girl who has hardly learned how to exist—what does that make me? I have no right.”

  The Hidden Witch was surprisingly flustered at giving birth to a spirit somehow, but she was all-powerful. She decisively saved the island of Lazulei and the one beneath it before disappearing into the sky. That was confidence and clarity not often found in young folk. It made me wonder just who the Saint was to her.

  “Madam Quartz!” The exterior door slammed open and I heard Shale’s voice. I felt bad dragging her into this, but she seemed happy with the outcome on Lazulei. Her panic made me nervous, however, “We have intruders! Madam Crag has already fallen and they just arrived before the temple. You have to do something!”

  I didn’t know about the Final Sky, but Sheffield was a man of conviction. If these people were so heartless to kill the Crag Witch in their pursuit, then they could not be up to any good. Pirates, I imagined. As a witch stationed here through the tides of fortune, I would not let anyone desecrate this temple.