A knock at the door woke Amara from a dreamless sleep. She sat up in bed, trying to defeat lethargy by rubbing it from her eyes, and Evander’s voice sounded from the hallway.

  “Mara, are you awake? I brought food.”

  “Just come in,” she called out.

  The door opened, and a smell of fried food accompanied Evander as he stepped inside. In his arms he carried two thick bundles of wafer-thin paper, carefully wrapped into fist-sized orbs.

  “You wouldn’t believe how hard it is to find a meal around here that isn’t ocean-related,” he said while handing Amara one of the bundles. She unwrapped it, discovering something that looked a bit like an oversized fried dinner roll within.

  “What is it?”

  “Uh, it’s a crab meat…thing. I just asked for two of whatever was the most popular.”

  His gaze briefly met hers before flickering away. She took a cautious bite of her roll and was mildly pleased by the result. It was exactly as savory and greasy as it looked and smelled, but the crunchiness was enjoyable and the seafood flavor wasn’t overwhelming.

  “It’s good,” she said, scooching over to give him space. “You should sit with me.”

  He seemed surprised by her invitation but quickly accepted. The bed let out a tiny squeak in rebellion as he sat down.

  “I guess I don’t mind crab,” Amara said through a mouthful of food. “The flavor reminds me a lot of the yabbies I ate in the forest’s stream sometimes.”

  “You really ate them right there in the water?”

  She shot an irritated frown at him. “I took them home to cook, obviously.”

  “...Oh.”

  An awkward silence ensued, and Evander turned his attention to his own bundle, hastily unwrapping it. Amara soon realized he’d been trying to joke with her, and she considered attempting one herself to try and clear the air between them, but the incident at the tavern remained a sore spot. She chose silence, and they ate together on her bed quietly for a little while.

  Eventually, Evander set what remained of his crab roll down onto the paper in his lap and cleared his throat.

  “...Mara. I’m sorry for not shutting her down immediately. Looking back it was really obvious. I should’ve said something much earlier.”

  Amara set her own roll down, using the paper to methodically wipe off her greasy fingers before meeting his gaze.

  “You can do whatever you want, Evan. But that doesn’t mean I’m gonna just sit there and watch you do it.”

  Pain briefly passed through his expression, but he soon gave her a short nod.

  “That’s fair, I guess.”

  His gaze dropped to the crab roll in his lap, and Amara suppressed a sigh.

  “...I could’ve handled it better, though,” she said. “I got too angry. I’m sorry.”

  Evander shook his head a little. “No, I get it.”

  He began to fiddle idly with the paper in his lap. Amara watched him for a little while, thinking.

  I don’t believe he really does get it, she thought. Maybe I just have to lay it out for him.

  “I don’t hate you, Evan.”

  His gaze shot up to meet hers. Deep blue eyes swimming with apprehension waited for her next words.

  “But I don’t like you, either. Not in that way.”

  Her words struck him like a blow. His head reeled back ever so slightly, and he blinked several times. But to his credit he maintained eye contact with her.

  I hate this, Amara thought. I hate constantly hurting his feelings. I don’t like hurting him but he never seems to get it.

  Her heart throbbed a bit, and she impulsively reached out for his hand. His eyes widened with a surprise that bordered on shock.

  “...But that doesn’t mean we—”

  A familiar noisy pecking at the window interrupted her. Evander instantly pulled his hand away from hers, along with his gaze. After studying him in anxious silence for a moment Amara stood up.

  She crossed the room to the window, throwing back the blinds to reveal an impatient looking Mattias sitting on the windowsill. She opened the window and he hopped inside, taking a moment to steady himself before opening his beak to let out a voice that was exactly identical to his human form.

  “Am I interrupting something?”

  Amara and Evander spoke over one another in surprise.

  “Yes, obviously!” “You can talk?!”

  “Whatever made you think I couldn’t speak in raven form? There’s something you both need to see. You can leave your things here, it won’t take longer than an hour.”

  It was incredibly strange to see his beak opening and closing just like a human mouth would while speaking. But Amara had become so accustomed to his constant surprises that she was able to take this new wrinkle in stride, for the most part.

  “...What is it?” she asked.

  “It’s best to let it speak for itself. There’s no danger, or at least there’s none more than what we’re already risking.”

  “I’ve gotta get a few things,” Evander said rapidly. He was already halfway out the door by the time Amara turned around to look, and it shut slowly behind him with an unceremonious groan.

  She rounded on Mattias. “Did you just do that on purpose?”

  “Hm? Do what on purpose? Stop you from making a move on him?”

  Her cheeks tingled with embarrassment, and her gaze shot away from him just long enough for an angry frown to cross her face.

  “Thanks for putting weird thoughts into my head,” she said. “Really appreciate it.”

  An amused chuckle erupted from Mattias. “...Those thoughts were clearly already in there. Now get ready. I’ll meet you outside.”

  He turned about and speedily took off, disappearing from sight behind the nearby building tops within seconds.

  A heavy sigh exploded from Amara as she reached over to shut the window.

  What would’ve happened next if he hadn’t shown up? she wondered. I didn’t really think through what I was doing.

  She recognized that an uncomfortable pattern existed within herself whenever it came to Evander, an internal volatility that made him difficult for her to deal with. It was like she was incapable of not making some kind of embarrassing mistake whenever they spoke, which had proven to be very frustrating and stressful. Maybe it wasn’t always literally true, but it certainly felt like it.

  Dissatisfaction with herself and annoyance at Mattias caused her to let out another sigh as she crossed the room towards her rucksack. She withdrew her lighter from it, testing the flame for good measure before pocketing it and exiting out into the hallway. Evander emerged from his room behind her a few moments later, and she was relieved by the fact that he would not be able to see the frustration she felt on her face, not at least until the demanding nature of the outside world would help her to reset.

  “Move along, close up!”

  The rain had intensified since they’d first entered the inn, and after only a little while of navigating through Lucyra’s narrow, rainswept alleyways Amara’s pants and shoes had become soaked in a variety of uncomfortable places. The guards they continued to pass on their way closer to the rock-castle didn’t seem to mind the weather though, and repeated the same commands over and over to the inattentive crowd flowing past them down the street.

  “The king has proclaimed mandatory public attendance for the execution! Move along, close up!”

  The people walking alongside Amara and Evander were mostly silent, trudging along beneath the steady rain towards wherever it was the guards wanted them to go. Amara flowed with the crowd for lack of direction, and Evander seemed content to follow her lead without bothering to ask questions. Mattias sat in his normal spot on Amara’s shoulder, studying their surroundings in his usual stoic manner as though the rain didn’t exist. He’d been quiet ever since they’d stepped out of the inn, perched in what felt like a contemplative silence.

  They passed another pair of vocal guards, and Evander leaned closer to Amara, speaking in a low voice.

  “Who is Shabboleth executing?”

  Amara shrugged, looking to Mattias for the answer.

  A trio of Destined who decided to oppose him, he said.

  Her mouth briefly fell open with surprise, and she turned to stare at Evander.

  “What?” he asked. His attention was then drawn to Mattias, and he stared hard at him as though he were listening intently. After a few moments his decidedly more troubled gaze returned to Amara.

  “...What did they do?”

  Unimportant, Mattias said. What’s important is he’s going to be there.

  “Shabboleth is going to be there?” Amara said.

  Yes. And his daughter will likely be there as well.

  “What?” Evan asked impatiently.

  “His daughter’s gonna be there, too.”

  He turned his stare back to Mattias, and brought his voice down to a barely audible whisper.

  “So…you want us to just go for it now? I didn’t bring my javelins.”

  “No,” Mattias said aloud before adding more mentally to Amara. I simply want you to see them. And watch.

  They rounded the corner on a tall building, and Amara nearly stumbled down a flight of stairs before catching herself. The path abruptly descended several dozen feet into a large open-air square filled with people milling about. It wasn’t entirely dissimilar to the town square back in Shiloh, except for all the stone brick buildings and rain. Other pathways from different sectors of the city also led into the square, admitting a steady stream of people to the growing crowd.

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  A small elevated wooden platform stood in the very middle of the square, with three large hook shaped wooden beams extending upwards roughly a dozen feet or so. A noose hung from the end of each hook, swaying gently whenever a strong breeze happened to blow by. The people standing closest to the platform all seemed to be giving it a generous amount of space.

  “What is that?” Amara whispered to Mattias.

  It’s a gallows, obviously, Mattias said. His head bobbed in the direction of the rock-castle. Look there.

  Their path had taken them deep enough into the city for them to get a good, up-close look at it. A line of three story buildings sat on the far side of the square, nestled up against the wet wall of rock which supported the castle high above. A large viewing platform had been carved from the rock just a few feet above the buildings, and a line of alert-looking guards stood along the outer edge, wearing the same type of ornamental armor they’d seen the soldiers from earlier wearing. From her position just below the platform Amara couldn’t see much else, but what appeared to be a large throne sat just a few feet behind the guards. Neither the throne nor the guards looked wet despite the downpour, and she guessed that the platform was situated just deep enough within the rock to be out of the rain.

  An impatient sigh sounded from someone standing behind Amara, and she realized they’d been holding up the crowd with their gawking. Embarrassed, she hurried down the steps as fast as she could, doing her best not to slip. Evander descended alongside her, his attention screwed to the steps below his feet.

  Look there, Mattias said once they’d reached the bottom. That spot off to the side is out of the rain.

  His head bobbed towards one of the buildings on the outer edge of the crowd. A fabric awning had been hung off the side of the building, and a small stream of water looked to be flowing off it directly into a nearby sewer grate. No one else seemed interested in the awning and the protection it offered, presumably because of the smell.

  Amara glanced at Mattias before moving towards it, deciding she would rather deal with the smell of the sewer than continue to be rained on.

  There’s something more to this, she realized. This isn’t just an opportunity to see Shabboleth. Mattias never does anything for only one reason.

  They reached the awning, and a steady drumbeat of rain pounded the fabric above their heads as they turned about to face the crowd. The added noise of the water crashing into the sewer nearby was just loud enough to be somewhat irritating.

  “Do we really have to attend an execution just to see their faces?” Evander asked, raising his voice to be heard. “I don’t know about you, Mara, but I don’t want to watch someone die if I don’t have to. What if we just—”

  “Be quiet for once,” Mattias barked. “Look there!”

  Amara noticed movement up on the viewing platform. A tall, bearded man with brown skin and a proud mane of dark hair strode out towards the guards from somewhere behind the throne. The armor he wore seemed quite a bit different than the other soldiers, less bulky and with smoother curves, especially at the shoulders. The cape he wore was pure white, a fact which led Amara to guess with confidence that he was placed somewhere high up within the hierarchy of Lucyra's soldiers. Even from their distant position she could see that he was quite handsome, with sharp cheekbones and a square jaw. She couldn’t be entirely sure of his age but he looked to be half a decade or so older than Evander. Every movement he made demonstrated self-confidence, as though he were innately sure of himself and would be no matter what he was doing or where.

  “Who is that?” Amara asked. Evander shrugged beside her.

  His name is Hippolytus, Mattias said. He’s one of Shabboleth’s more competent lieutenants. And Jezebel’s paramour, if the rumors are to be believed.

  “Paramour?”

  Her lover, Mattias said with disdain. He’s either quite brave or quite stupid to openly carry on with Shabboleth’s daughter. Perhaps both. He paused. There’s more than one way to skin a cat.

  Amara was taken aback for a moment before his point dawned on her.

  “...You’re saying we could use him.”

  Possibly…if events allow. When it comes to getting what you want from a person there are elegant and inelegant ways to go about it. The way of elegance is preferable, but I’ve often found that the path of inelegance has its own admirable charms. Consider for instance what would happen to Hippolytus if you were to, say, kidnap the princess. How might their relationship be used to your advantage?

  She considered what he’d said for a moment, then turned to look at him.

  “He’s a wedge,” she said quietly. “Something we could place between Shabboleth and his daughter.”

  Mattias’s head bobbed with avian excitement.

  You catch on quickly. Yes, you could do that. So long as you are willing to ruthlessly exploit her. But now you must ask yourself: when the time comes, will you be able to destroy Jezebel’s loved ones in order to protect your own?

  “He’s there,” Evander said.

  Two more people had appeared on the viewing platform beside Hippolytus when Amara turned back to look, a lithe, stern looking man wearing flowing turquoise robes and a beautiful young woman wearing a revealing white dress adorned with golden jewelry. Both had brown skin like Hippolytus, but the newcomers had an immense aura of nobility radiating from them which he lacked. There was simply no way to mistake who they were; the king of Lucyra and his daughter had finally appeared, gracing the rabble milling about in the square below by their mere presence.

  Hippolytus bowed low to Shabboleth as he gracefully gathered up his robes in order to assume his throne. Once he was seated his cold gaze quickly swept through the crowd below him. He seemed to linger on Amara and Evander for a long, anxious moment when his gaze happened upon them, but it soon continued on through the rest of the crowd. His looks were sharp and handsome, but there was an open harshness in his expression which seemed to promise danger for anyone who fell under his gaze for too long. From his expression alone Amara could tell that this was by no means the first public execution he’d ever ordered, and it certainly would not be the last.

  Jezebel took a few steps forward to stand beside her father, and Hippolytus then stood up from his bow to exit the viewing platform. Her gaze followed him as he walked past, and once he was gone she leaned down to whisper something into her father’s ear. From how perfectly her jewelry accented her darling looks and flowing dark hair to how her clothing emphasized her curves, every detail of her appearance had clearly been calculated for maximum effect. Amara had never seen anyone wear such risque clothing before, and the fact that Jezebel was a princess seemed to be an implication itself. Here was a woman who understood exactly how to strike a perfect balance between power and risk—and wasn’t afraid to demonstrate that understanding. For her part, Amara doubted she’d ever have the amount of self confidence required to dress in such a way, and couldn’t foresee any reasons why she would ever want to.

  “That’s really Jezebel?” Evander asked, ogling. “Interesting way to dress.”

  “There’s no way she isn’t freezing,” Amara frowned.

  Do you feel it when you look at them?

  She glanced at Mattias. “Feel what?”

  The Pattern, you moron! Stop letting yourself be distracted by their physical appearance and feel beyond the trappings of flesh! Power whirls like a hurricane upon that stage!

  A strong urge to respond to his insult in kind nearly forced its way out of her before she gained control of it. She turned her attention back to the viewing platform, and this time when she looked at Shabboleth an odd tingle began to expand in the back of her mind. It was like a stubborn itch that couldn’t be scratched, a whisper which grew louder the longer she looked. Strength radiated from him, and as it blossomed Amara recognized the similarities between it and what she’d felt from the wolf during its attack. Their powers were similar in intensity but on an entirely different frequency, like drum beats in two songs with vastly different tempos. If the wolf’s power had been wild and uncontained, Shabboleth’s power felt measured and constrained.

  Jezebel, too, had power radiating from her, but it felt different. It was smoother, almost, and significantly less intense. If she hadn’t been standing in such close proximity to Shabboleth it might’ve been easier to grasp, but his power was so immense that hers seemed miniscule in comparison, like a solitary voice being drowned out by a boisterous chorus.

  A realization occurred to Amara as she focused on the Pattern swirling upon the viewing platform, one which immediately gave her pause.

  Why don’t I feel anything like this from Mattias? she thought. Or Evan, even?

  “I feel it,” she whispered to Mattias. “But why don’t I feel anything from either of you?”

  He studied her in silence for a long moment before responding.

  Because you’re used to us, he said matter-of-factly. I’ve been in close proximity to you for a decade. Evander has been with you even longer.

  She caught herself before she could shake her head. Somehow that didn’t sound right, and after turning it over in her mind for a bit she realized why.

  “Then why didn’t I feel something from Sunjata?” she asked. “He’s a nephilim, too.”

  That is because I took steps to obscure him. Just like I’m doing with you and Evander both right now so that Shabboleth and Jezebel won’t detect you.

  Amara immediately saw the contradiction in what he’d just said, but before she could press him on it a booming voice rang out from the gallows.

  “Citizens of Lucyra! Bear thee witness to these foul criminals who have trespassed against you and your valiant protector, King Shabboleth the Invincible!”

  Her attention turned to the source of the voice, and she was surprised to see Hippolytus and several guards now standing on the gallows. Moments later more guards appeared from the far side of the gallows, and she realized that there must’ve been a passageway hidden somewhere beneath the gallows, one which connected to the viewing platform and also implied the existence of other secret paths snaking beneath the city.

  A trickle of guards appeared from below the gallows until they had formed a solid ring formation around it. At some unseen word even more guards then appeared, escorting three figures wearing pitch black hoods up the gallow’s stairs. It was difficult to make out much detail, but judging by their builds it seemed to be two men and a woman who Amara was now watching walk to their dooms. Their hands were tied firmly behind their backs, and they moved slowly.

  They can’t see anything, Amara guessed. Or maybe they’re just walking slow to delay the inevitable.

  Whatever the reason, the guards escorting them quickly lost patience and gave each of them a shove up the stairs. Hippolytus watched impassively as the hooded figures were led past him in order to stand beneath the nooses hanging closeby.

  A faint whisper of power seemed to grow in the back of Amara’s mind the longer she looked at the hooded figures, one which seemed terribly frail in comparison to the maelstrom occurring up on the viewing platform. If they really were Destined, then they couldn’t possibly have been all that powerful to begin with. Certainly not enough to credibly threaten the monstrosity sitting on the throne high above them.

  Or their powers have been suppressed somehow, Amara realized.

  Hippolytus removed a small scroll hanging from the belt around his waist, and read aloud from it for the crowd to hear.

  “The criminals standing before you have been convicted of the following crimes: vandalization of crown property, intent to commit armed burglary, intent to commit murder, and intent to disrupt the public order. Give thanks to the brave knights of Lucyra for stopping these villains before their plans could come to full fruition. The king has decided that for their crimes they must be put to death, and the sentence is to be carried out immediately.”

  The guards which had accompanied the hooded figures then reached up for the nooses, pulling them down into position. The figure on the far left, one of the men, visibly recoiled when the noose was tightened around his neck. An urge to do something to help them briefly surged through Amara before it was dashed by the reality of their situation. She simply wasn’t willing to risk her life and her mother’s future by trying to save them, especially not when Shabboleth himself was nearby and so many of his soldiers were around. If they were to have any chance against him it would have to be somewhere else, out of the rain at the very least.

  She scrutinized the area around them, hoping they would find some way to escape on their own.

  “Can you—” she began to say to Mattias until Hippolytus moved towards the closest prisoner, the woman. He grabbed the knot which tied the noose around her neck to the wooden beam high above, and in one swift motion he heaved it downward. The woman shot up into the air, feet kicking wildly as she ascended. She was clearly in terrible pain as she was hoisted higher and higher. Amara looked away, unable to bear the terrible sight, and as she did she noticed that Jezebel also happened to be looking away. But the neutrality in her expression made it clear that she didn't share Amara's horror. It was more like Jezebel had just happened upon some unpleasant thing on the side of the road, something unimportant she’d probably forget about as soon as it left her presence. Shabboleth’s attention was firmly on Hippolytus and the flailing woman but his expression hadn’t changed whatsoever.

  Hippolytus continued to haul the woman upwards until she was nearly a dozen feet off the ground. When he was satisfied he re-tied the end of the noose to the post, and gave the thrashing woman several feet of distance as he proceeded to the next prisoner.

  I have to watch, Amara decided grimly. I won’t turn away from their suffering.

  She looked on as the next prisoner went upwards just as quickly as the first. The man kicked and struggled with all his might, but his effort couldn’t stop the rope’s trajectory. The dispassionate look on Hippolytus’s face as he pulled would’ve been right at home on anyone working the wheat back in Shiloh.

  “He’s strong,” Evander muttered. “That would be a hard enough job for two people working together but he’s making it look easy.”

  Some people don’t need a divine gift of strength in order to be strong, Mattias said. There was an admiring tone to his thought-voice which Amara instantly found off-putting.

  The crowd looked on in dead silence as Hippolytus moved to the final prisoner. The woman’s thrashing had become noticeably weaker by the time he had finished hauling the second man into position. Amara watched the three struggling figures up on the gallows for what felt like an eternity, but it eventually became too much and she had to look away once more.

  “Why is it taking so long?” she gasped.

  It can take minutes for the heart and brain to die without access to oxygen, Mattias said. Their necks will break before they succumb to suffocation, if they’re lucky.

  She shook her head with disgust, glancing at Evander. The look on his face as he stared at the gallows was serious and intense, and after seeing it a wave of gratitude washed over her. At least one of her companions had a normal response to seeing something so absolutely horrible.

  The drumming of rain on the awning overhead was the only noise in the square as life seeped out of the prisoners. Finally, after what felt like hours but what must’ve been only minutes, it was over. All three hooded figures hung limply from their nooses, and what little of the Pattern Amara had sensed radiating from them had disappeared.

  Hippolytus turned to address the crowd. “May you be reminded! A crime committed against your king is also a crime committed against God. Now, return to your homes! And spread word of what happens to thieves in this kingdom.”

  He descended the gallow’s stairs, disappearing from sight behind the wall of guards. The crowd slowly began to move to the stairways leading out from the square.

  “I get it,” Amara whispered. “I understand why you really wanted us to watch this.”

  Mattias looked at her but said nothing. After a long moment of silence he abruptly took off from her shoulder, ascending through the rain towards the very top of the castle high above until Amara could no longer see him.

  “That isn’t going to be what happens to us,” Evander said. “We’re going to make it back home to Shiloh, Mara. And when we get there that elixir is going to be in our hands.”

  Amara turned to him, matching his gaze.

  “I know,” she said firmly. “I’ll make sure of it.”