The smells wafting out of the bakery were calling to him. “Pick me, pick me” said each of the pastries, the stuffed buns, the cheesy rolls. They all wanted to go into his stomach, he was sure.

  Leander pulled out his coin purse and carefully counted how much was left. When he first joined the sect, Laurel had started giving him a stipend. He spent it. Then he spent the next month’s and the month’s after that. It wasn’t until the tutor gave a lesson on banking that he realized fancy people kept some of their money back to save. Or in case they needed it later. He still thought back then they might send him away. So when Annette had taken him, Eric, Rebeca, Rian, and a few of the others to make their own bank accounts he followed the instructions. When his tutor told him about budgets he did that too, dutifully dropping off half his stipend each month.

  And now, when he ended up in front of a bakery, he was cruelly forced to choose only one treat. With no more reason to delay he walked up and pointed at a bun flavored with lime. Then he shook his head and pointed at the chicken parcel instead. He handed the money over with the solemn air such an occasion deserved and went to join the others, who had already gotten more than halfway through their own selections.

  Rebecca was in the middle of a story when he joined them. “... and then the candlemaking was fun. Less stressful than the woodworking, but we still need to get Laurel to burn the mana-infused candles we made and see which one was best. I tossed some mint into mine so I’m hoping it has soothing properties. Hey Eric, that’s an idea. You figured out how to calm people with mana right, you could try and make a candle that does the same thing.”

  She stopped to give Flint the dried fruit picked out of her bun and Gabrielle smoothly picked up the thread. “I don’t know, I liked the woodworking. The chandlery gave me a migraine.”

  “You’re magic now, how are you still getting migraines?”

  “I don’t know, maybe they’re magic migraines.”

  “I think you’re just saying the woodworking was better because the journeyman was handsome.”

  “I mean, it didn’t hurt,” Gabrielle said.

  They all laughed and Leander settled in to enjoy his lunch. He could join in with his stone, or a gesture, but sometimes he liked letting it all wash over him. Especially when Gabrielle and Rebecca were getting along so well. It wasn’t clear to any of them when the change happened, but by unspoken agreement, no one was bringing it up. The bell over the door jingled and he looked over to see Helene walk in. He waved and she came over to join them, after stopping at the counter and picking up some sort of spiral pastry covered in frosting. Leander stared at it longingly while Helene settled into the banter around the table and the clamoring for stories from her contract with the Hunter’s Guild.

  “Not much to tell. We found them. A pack of mean magic dogs. They were fast though. Had a few close calls in the fight. Some offensive magic really would have come in helpful but we managed in the end. I stopped by the sect to drop off the cores and Laurel said they were good for initiates like us. And I’ll get my share of the hides once they’ve been tanned.”

  “Hunting feral dogs isn’t the only reason you took the contract though, is it?” Cooper said. He was doing something with his eyebrows Leander didn’t quite understand. Eric just shook his head at the sight.

  “Eh.” Helene answered with a shrug. “It was fun for a couple days but it’s not going any further than that.”

  “Forget that!” Gabrielle said. From his point of view, Gabrielle had a set length of time she could listen without adding anything to the conversation, and whenever they reached the limit she would be talking no matter what. “How was the contribution point total from Laurel, was it enough?”

  “Enough for what?” Eric asked.

  Helene popped the last bite of pastry in her mouth before replying. “Enough for the natural treasures we want for aspecting our mana.” She paused, leaned back, fidgeted with the seat.

  Leander leaned forward along with everyone else and gave Helene a pointed look. Friends don’t leave friends hanging for important news.

  “Yes, it’s enough, if I put the cores from the hunt in the contribution store and we do another week or so of odd jobs.”

  “Yes!” Gabrielle shouted loudly enough to get looks from the rest of the customers in the store. Volcano Phoenix here I come!”

  “Volcano…Phoenix?” Eric said. He sounded just as confused as Leander felt.

  “They’re the two most awesome things I could think of relating to fire. Should be a good thing to aim for down the line.”

  “I’m not sure that’s exactly how that works –” Cooper said before Gabrielle cut him off.

  “Shhhh, let me have the moment.”

  “I guess we’re getting close too,” Eric mused. “Adam found a book before he left with aspects that different healers take.”

  “Have you actually looked recently?” They all turned to look at Cooper. Leander nodded, he’d been budgeting his contribution points too. “That thing we did for Laurel,” he paused and looked around the room, as if a guardsman was going to jump up and grab him. “She added some points to our total, a lot of them. We should all be just about ready.” He looked queasy when he finished the little speech, a touch of green under his normally pale skin.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  “Let’s go home right now,” Gabrielle said. “I haven’t let myself look too hard. Not until we got the right amount, but I’m picking out the best fire treasure we have.”

  The whole group left the bakery and piled into the street in a tangle of limbs and growing friendships. Leander wasn’t in a rush but he felt the excitement bubbling under the surface just like the others. It had been months since he’d made more than incremental progress in his cultivation, this would be a whole new place inside him to explore.

  The middle-class entertainment district with the bakery was only a short walk up the hill from the Flats, and it was faster to walk than to try to catch a cab for six. The joking atmosphere kept their spirits up, even with the spitting rain making them dodge from awning to awning. At the bottom of the hill they cut into the side streets to use their usual shortcut.

  Leander was squinting against the rain when the first blow fell. His training kicked and he rolled back to his feet. It would bruise but it was more shocking than painful.

  A dozen people stood arrayed against them, in plain clothes and half masks, brandishing pipes, pieces of timber, even a stray brick. He fumbled for his own daggers, sheathed at his hips as they always were when he left the sect. Helene produced a knife from somewhere, but the rest of his sectmates were unarmed. He shuffled over so they were back-to-back, facing their attackers.

  “What do you want?” Gabrielle said. Leander heard the shake in her voice but it was subtle. He tried to puff up to add some intimidation to her words but he was still smaller than anyone else in the alley.

  “How about everything in your pockets? You parade around in your fancy building with your fancy stuff, bringing monsters down on the city. We want you all to go. And don’t come back!” Some of the words were slurred but he got the gist. They thought the sect was bringing the monsters, instead of holding them back.

  “Fuck you! We’re defending the city you–” Gabrielle started berating the crowd.

  Helene leaned in while they were distracted. “On my signal,” she murmured, “we break towards the sect. Push through and keep running.”

  “--low-life, pathetic excuse for real Meristan. You’re mothers must have fucked a vaklox to come out with something so stupid, idiotic, absolute horseshit –”

  “Now!” Helene shouted.

  Leander surged forward. He would protect his friends. The closest man had some padding around the middle, a good thing for Leander’s shoulder as he ducked under a makeshift club and slammed into it. The street tough staggered and fell back, toppling like a tree, slowly and then all at once, gasping for air.

  Another squared up in front of him. A woman with skin weathered into leather from a life in the slums. Leander didn’t stop. A cultivator didn’t hesitate in battle. Left foot planted, right leg bent in, power comes from the hips, aaaaand, SLAM. His heel met the woman’s chest and won. She tripped and he was through the gap a heartbeat later. Leander turned as his friends raced by to make sure no one fell behind. Helene had done something to the two thugs on her side, they were both holding parts of their anatomy and moaning. She grabbed his arm on the way by and pulled him after the others. Their headlong sprint slowed to a jog a few streets later, when it was clear no one was following them.

  He wasn’t even winded. Despite everything that just happened, and the rain which hadn’t let up at all, the thought brought a smile to his face. He ignored the others and thought back to the owl he almost lost to, so many months ago, and how far he’d come. Something felt deeply right about jumping to defend his friends. Laurel had taught him to pay attention to those feelings.

  Defending, protecting, the sect, his friends, even Flint, who’d wisely clung to Rebecca during the fight. It all came together, finally. His mana sped up, taking on a life of it’s own in his channels. This was who he would be, what he would base his cultivation around. He didn’t need freedom like the others. He’d had freedom. No one cares what a street kid does during the day. Even in the sect he could mostly do what he wanted as long as his chores got done and he practiced cultivating. No, he wanted the anchors, the chains. Tie him to his friends and his home as closely as possible. He would protect it until the end.

  The smile never left his face, even as he trudged up the sect steps behind the others. The girls were furiously whispering at the front. Rainwater dripped out of their sodden clothes, leaving a small stream on the floor of the foyer as they made their way inside. It was wickedly uncomfortable but they’d be dry soon enough.

  Then Laurel was there and they all jerked to a halt in unison.

  “Caught out in the storm?” she said with a smile. The real one, not the ‘I’ll eat your still-beating heart’ one.

  “Nope!” Gabrielle’s voice broke an octave higher than it usually was.

  “Just getting back from the bakery,” Rebecca added. Flint looked the worst off for the deluge, clinging pitifully to her shoulders.

  None of them were going to mention it? He reached into his shirt to pull out his worn speaking stone. Rebecca, noticing, grabbed his arm and started towing him towards the stairs.

  “Oh, alright then.” Laurel nodded along and then ever so casually reached out and grabbed the back of Gabrielle’s shirt, yanking the girl backwards. The whole group froze one more time. “And how about the truth now, hmm?”

  “What? No! That is the truth,” Gabrielle squeaked.

  Laurel turned and took them all in, meeting each of their eyes in turn. “Children, know that I have done more than any of you can imagine. I know a missing story when I see one. Spill.”

  What came next was a garbled mess as all six of them started talking at once. Flint added his own chittering version of the story, puffing himself up and hooting like one of the toughs.

  “There were a dozen of them.”

  “Totally unfair.”

  “We definitely won.”

  “They were blaming us for the beast waves.”

  At this last fragment from Cooper, Laurel held up her hand and they all fell silent. “Random act of violence fueled by propaganda? Or premeditated?”

  It was Eric who finally answered. “I think the first one. I’m pretty sure they were in one of the taverns in the Pit, saw us coming, and went for it.”

  “Very well.” Laurel pursed her lips and Leander got very scared for those men and women. “You’ve all been working hard, I’m very proud of you.” The words warmed his soul but the tone said murder. “Why don’t you just relax for the rest of the day.

  She turned and walked out into the rain with no other acknowledgement.

  “Stars above,” Gabrielle said. “What do you think she’s gonna do?”

  Leander had visions of limbs ripped off, blood painting the streets red.

  “I think,” Eric said, “we go upstairs and dry off, and whatever Laurel does is her business.”

  **********

  The tavern was rough. The kind of place where her boots stuck to the floor with each step, and the tables and chairs doubled as weapons in a pinch. Finding the perpetrators was easy, given they weren’t hiding. Roaring laughter and heckling was dominating the space. One man was holding court, orating on the evils of the sect, and how if they just left, then everything in the Flats would be better.

  She swaggered up to the group until she was standing at the man’s shoulder, a smile stretched across her face. The noise petered out. The men and women staring back at her were a mixed bunch, the only commonality across the group were signs of a life hard-lived. Laurel stretched her arm behind the man, as if to embrace him, grabbed the nape of his neck, and slammed him forward into the table.

  “Bitch! Get off!” He shouted and struggled, but he was a mortal and she was a pissed off master cultivator. His blows bounced off with no effect, but she grabbed his arm and bent it back to get him to calm down.

  “I heard an interesting story today,” Laurel said to the group. She was still smiling. “My students came home, and wouldn’t you know it, they were attacked on the street. Barely a stone’s throw from my sect house. In the city I’ve protected, and sacrificed for.” Her expression could no longer be described as anything but a snarl. The people at the back of the crowd started edging away, and a flick of air mana pushed them closer again.

  “If you have a problem with me, you come to me. Attack my students and I come back. Understand?” She made eye contact with each of them, until she got a nod. “What about you?” She shook the man still pinned in front of her. “You understand.”

  “Yes! Please let me go, it won’t happen again.”

  After one last squeeze she did just that, stepping back. The man cautiously stood and then hastily moved a few meters away when Laurel didn’t stop him. Everyone was still staring and she decided she may as well use the attention for something. With a loud screech, she dragged a chair over and sat down at the table. The tankard in front of her was still full so she gave it a small sniff. Vile. She took a sip anyway.

  “Now, why don’t you tell me what you’ve heard, and we can discuss this like civilized people.”