Liria and two of his trusted guards made their way up the staircase to the temple, their armor clanking with each movement. Swords hung at their waists, and spears were strapped across their backs. They strode forward with conviction, a force of authority surrounding them.

  Some residents of Moonset watched from the bottom of the hill, puzzled not only by the guards’ presence at such a strange location, but by the unusually heavy armor and weaponry they wore. Rumors had spread about the night before, when a criminal roamed the streets and was caught not by the guard, but by a group of young people. To the townsfolk—who often thought of the temple as separate from Moonset—this only strengthened a festering belief that the town guard had grown negligent.

  Liria massaged his temple. His headaches were getting worse.

  ◇─◇──◇─◇

  Among the hills, less than a quarter mile from the temple, Yig jogged, his aura ignited, in a wide circle marked out by wooden posts planted that morning. Oy lay on a nearby, slanted hill, giving him a clear view of his guest’s training. He had finished his own ten laps five minutes earlier, and only now had Yig reached his final one. Oy stood and walked down just as Yig bent over, hands on knees, letting his aura settle back to normal.

  “How… did…” Yig gasped between breaths. “How… did you finish… so—?”

  “Practice,” Oy replied with a grin. “That’s all it is. Your aura is like any other muscle. It takes time to build.”

  “Right… but… fast… how’d you go… so fast?”

  Oy smirked. “You picked up on that?” He enjoyed being around Yig. Though he wouldn’t admit it, seeing someone learn the basics was an ego boost. The purpose of the exercise was to give them experience maintaining an active aura during exertion—a necessary skill for anyone planning to use mana in combat. But Yig had noticed the technique Oy used to make it easier.

  “Answer… me…” Yig said, still panting.

  “Yeah. I channeled some aura into my legs. Not just the legs, though—specific points within them.”

  Yig grinned, pleased he’d figured it out. The goal of the exercise hadn’t been speed, just endurance while maintaining aura. Still, Oy had focused on speed anyway—and now felt a little guilty for showing off.

  “Intimidated by me?” Yig chuckled, his breathing evening out.

  Oy scoffed playfully. “You just bring out my inner competitor.”

  Yig liked that idea. “A few more laps, then?”

  “Hey chumps!” a distant voice called.

  The two looked up toward the temple roof, where Blū stood looking down at them.

  “He’s awake!”

  ◇─◇──◇─◇

  Once the three men entered the dining room, the others were already scattered around, with Silver seated at the table beside the man. Sil leaned against the wall, arms crossed, waiting for the inevitable conversation to begin. Yig stood near her.

  “Can you talk?” Silver asked—more softly than most had ever heard him.

  The man nodded.

  “Can you tell us your name?”

  “Furgen… Jork. Furgen Jork is my name.”

  “How’d you escape the station?” Blū asked, earning a scowl from Silver for interrupting.

  “I…” The man spoke slowly, his faint voice cracking every few words. “I stole the keys from a guard while he was talking to me from outside my cell. He seemed nice, but…”

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  “What were you in for?” Silver asked, continuing calmly.

  Furgen took a breath. “They wouldn’t tell me. My wife and I were traveling here with our daughter to attend the Pink Holly Festival. On the way, some guards detained me, claiming I matched the description of a wanted man in the area. They brought me to Moonset—ironically, already my destination. That was a few days ago.”

  “And your family?”

  As tears welled, his words thinned. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen—” The sentence broke off, and Furgen buried his face in his hands.

  They all waited patiently, the tension in the room abrasive. Yig looked to Sil, who remained stunningly calm.

  “That’s why they came to Chestnut,” Yig whispered. “Isn’t it? To do what they did with him?”

  Sil nodded. “But not just this. With a dark aura like the one we sensed from the station, there’s no chance something more sinister isn’t going on.”

  Three loud knocks on the front door rattled the temple. Every head but Furgen’s jolted toward the halls. They all froze, as if hoping they’d imagined it. Silver knelt beside the man, doing his best to quiet him. Then he handed the task to Nil and signaled for the students to stay back as he headed to the front door.

  ◇─◇──◇─◇

  Silver walked through the temple’s hallways. The knocking continued—relentless, each blow more furious and impatient than the last. He reached the door, gripped the ring, and pulled open the barricade.

  On the other side, lit by morning light casting long shadows into the hall, stood Liria and two other guards, each heavily armed. The guard to Liria’s left was scruffy and unkempt, and the one on the right had a distinctive scar across one eye.

  “Good morning, Silver.”

  “And to you.”

  A pause followed—not long, only a few seconds, but stretched thin by the weight of their tense stares.

  “Your boy—the white-haired one—is he here?”

  Silver sighed. “What’s he done?”

  Liria smiled, a slow twist of the mouth, teetering on sinister. “Oh, nothing. He came by the station yesterday to ask a question, but our conversation got cut short.”

  It might have been believable—if they didn’t look dressed for a raid.

  “How so?” Silver asked, playing along.

  “A man broke out of his cell and made a run for it. Quite the mood killer, if you ask me.” Liria chuckled softly. Silver didn’t react.

  “Is he dangerous?”

  “He’s a homeless bum. A nobody. But you can never tell with his type.”

  “And you came all the way up here… what? To give Blū another chance to finish his question?”

  Whatever trace of humor Liria had drained away. His eerie smile vanished, his posture stiffened. He looked at Silver, eyes dull.

  “It was a curious coincidence. He specifically asked to see the jail.”

  “You leave your cell keys lying around? If not, sounds like speculation to me.”

  Liria snarled but said nothing.

  “I’m guessing the cell door wasn’t smashed or tampered with?”

  “If all’s in order,” Liria said through gritted teeth, “then you won’t mind us looking around.”

  “I’d love to see the warrant.”

  Liria stuttered again.

  “Thought so.” Then Silver shut the door.

  ◇─◇──◇─◇

  “So… was it them?” Sil asked.

  “Yep,” Silver replied, frustration in his tone as he sat back down with the others.

  Blū propped his feet on the table. “What’d they say?”

  “Not much of worth. Basic intimidation tactics.” He knocked Blū’s feet off.

  “Right, but… did they come for me?”

  “…Yes. The situation you found yourself in is definitely suspicious, even without solid evidence. I’d probably think the same if I were in the Captain’s position.”

  “I am so deeply sorry for putting you in this situation,” Furgen sobbed. “Your conversation with the chief was the best chance to run I could see at the time. If I’d known how kind you were, I wouldn’t have.”

  “I tackled you to the ground,” Blū cut in. “I’d say we’re even.”

  Furgen cried grateful tears, though sorrow still lingered in his eyes.

  “This has been a pattern, from what I’ve seen,” Sil added. “He’s just one of many the guard has captured. What do we do about the rest—” A thought seemed to strike her. “Furgen, was there anyone like you in a cell when you were there?”

  “Yes… a young lad. A pickpocket, they said.”

  “Greasy hair? About my age?” Sil asked.

  “He looked somewhat like that.”

  Sil scoffed. “He sort of had it coming.”

  Yig turned in surprise at what she’d said.

  “Just joking,” she assured him.

  Oy raised his hands. “Let’s hold on a second. I get why you helped this guy, but we can’t expect to save every victim of this.”

  Silver seemed to nod in agreement. “And we can’t hide them all here.”

  Sil looked at Yig, and as if on cue, they both stood up and began stretching their arms.

  “Saving all these guys sounds like a hero’s job to me,” Yig remarked.

  “Admirable,” Blū replied, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “But maybe focus on this fella first. His family’s still missing. Or more accurately—he is.”

  Furgen nodded, wiping more tears from his eyes.

  Yig smiled back at Blū. “Well, I’ve got a Stearna with me. She’ll find them.”

  Sil looked quietly pleased by the compliment—though Yig probably hadn’t meant it that way.

  “Hey, old man,” Yig said, looking to Silver, “can you keep Furgen safe here?”

  “Shouldn’t be much trouble. It’s the day of the festival, so the courts won’t be open. He’s not getting a warrant.”

  “That gives us a day,” Yig said confidently. “That is a day, right?” he whispered to Sil.

  “Yes, just about.”

  “A day it is, then.”

  “Are we even sure his family is still here?” Blū asked.

  Sil walked to the door, grabbing her belt as she did, strapping it around her waist. “Don’t worry. You’ll know soon enough.”