The Cauldron Sea had an unpleasant habit—it spat debris and corpses onto the shore, only to suck them back into its belly. For the bodies it left behind for good, no one came to scavenge them. No birds flew down to pick at the meat, either.

  Those blaring sirens persisted, no matter how many times Jay faded in and out of consciousness. They motivated him to sit upright and take in his surroundings. Behind him rose a ridge of black stone. He supposed there might be a settlement beyond the hill.

  It was hard to tell exactly where he had washed up—somewhere near Donna Maria, perhaps. Should he climb over the mountain and try to find his way home? Or stay put and wait for rescue? Both options carried their risks.

  A slow, rising heat convinced him to move. The wind was stale, making it difficult to breathe. His eyelids grew heavy. Then his skin began to itch—a mild tingling at first. He rubbed the back of his neck, then his arm. Invisible ants seemed to be feasting on him.

  This was worse than Henrikia’s weather. The levithium wall along the Henrikian border shielded its people from the worst effects of Sovisansel. The Sodenites, it seemed, weren’t so lucky.

  He had been rubbing the back of his hand for a full minute as though something sticky clung to his fingers. When he looked down, he wondered when this had happened—his skin was peeling off.

  Jay staggered toward the ridge. Somewhere ahead had to be safe. Every step was punishment to his head. The migraine he’d been ignoring finally refused to be contained. He reached the black stone, leaned forward, and coughed—once, then again, harder. Phlegm bubbled in his throat. When he spat it out, it was streaked with blood. The air had thickened now—so much that it seemed to swell his windpipe as he wheezed for breath.

  He formed a fist, punched the stone wall, and stumbled on, searching for a steady climb. The violet dress on the swayer’s corpse blurred at the edge of his vision. Had she been alive, he would have left her all the same.

  At the top of the ridge lay a small forest, open and easy to walk through. Jay used the trees for support, fighting the burn in his lungs and the sting of his skin.

  Out of the trees he stepped onto the sidewalk of an empty street. The sirens’ source was a megaphone strapped to the roof of some kind of gym. He looked for anyone but found only abandoned sedans.

  A sign near the forest read “Donna Pristo Park.” A basket of bread sat alone on an empty bench — maybe from the bakery he’d passed earlier. The windows along the street were shuttered; doors were locked. He could hear no whimper from any shop or home. It was hard to, with a blaring siren frying half your brain.

  His annoyance shifted to alarm when a military vehicle tore past. The Black Army was Soden’s primary military force; they were seldom deployed, it was said. With President Luis presumed dead and Sovisansel’s aftermath underway, he wasn’t surprised to see them here.

  He stopped to cough again, wondering what might happen if he forced himself to breathe too hard. The sirens would have been helpful if those damned things hadn’t been giving instructions in English. He was too fogged to understand them.

  Instead of wasting time, he followed his instincts. The farther he moved from the sirens, the clearer his head became. He heard a faint humming and turned toward it. Maybe a Ring was nearby.

  His spark of hope fizzled when he reached the source and found no Ring of any sort. Instead, there was a shop; in front of it stood eight levithium rods. Four formed a thin marker field at the entrance, and the remaining four created a similar field over the roof. A military vehicle sat parked at the doorway.

  No one had to tell him the building was full of earthens. It was either go in or choke to death — a choice anyone would find difficult. Jay approached the entrance. No one stopped him from opening the door.

  The room had no lights. He could barely make out the grocery shelves. Dozens of people sat on the floor in tight rows. Murmurs rippled through them, though none seemed to concern him. It didn’t look like they had noticed him at all — better that way. He didn’t plan to stay long.

  His pain eased somewhat within the safety of the marker field. He started moving, carving a path through the seated earthens. He brushed their heads aside, stepping on fingers that didn’t move fast enough. They snapped at him to watch where he was going, or something like that — Jay didn’t care to listen.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  “Halt!” called a muffled voice. “Young man, what do you want?”

  The voice came from down the hall. A man in a grey rubber suit approached, wearing a gas mask and carrying a rifle slung over his shoulder. Jay ignored him. The man grabbed his shoulder.

  There was a telephone mounted on the wall behind a reception counter. Jay shrugged off the man’s hand, went around the counter, and tapped the side of the telephone box. He ran his finger underneath, searching for a ripper hex he could use. Nothing.

  “The telephones don’t work here,” said the man — an officer, probably. “If it’s urgent, get to the control station.”

  “Pen, pen, pen,” Jay muttered, rummaging around the counter for anything sharp. He found a hairpin, scratched a ripper hex onto the box, and cast a spell. “Hello? Hello, this is Jay Arson, calling for help. Can anyone hear me? I’m in trouble. Donna Maria. Come for me.”

  A torch flicked on. Light stabbed into Jay’s eyes.

  “Stay where you are,” said the officer, a pistol aimed squarely at him.

  “I just want to go home,” Jay said, raising his hands. “I don’t want any trouble.”

  “Empty your pockets,” ordered the officer. “Drop any weapon.”

  “I’m an ascender,” Jay responded. “Why would I need weapons?”

  “Do it!”

  The earthens were watching now. It was only a matter of time before they put two and two together. Disaster loomed. He had to play it safe.

  Jay lowered his hands into his damp pockets and pulled them out. The officer grunted — offended by something Jay had done — and rushed over, patting his shirt and trousers in haste.

  “Where is it?” hissed the officer.

  Jay frowned. “What?”

  “Where is the paper, thief?” the officer hissed again. It couldn’t be what Jay thought it was. His lips pressed into a hard line.

  “Tell me now, or I’ll make your life miserable.”

  “I don’t know where it is.”

  The officer grabbed the radio clipped to his belt. “Attention to all patrols—”

  A woman shoved the officer hard into the counter. The pistol went off, blasting a hole in the ceiling. Chaos erupted. People sprang to their feet and bolted for the exit. They would rather brave the deadly heat outside than die trapped in here.

  “Come with me!” A hand seized Jay’s and pulled him through the shelves. They crashed through a side door, down an alley, and into a gutter. Behind them, the officer shouted, ordering people to clear the way.

  A new kind of siren wailed — the sharp, warbling cry of emergency vehicles. The woman crouched low but moved quickly, leading him farther from the noise. Should he even be following a stranger like this? His instincts screamed at him to bolt, to find a path back to the beach as soon as possible.

  Commands from soldiers echoed through the streets — orders and warning shots driving terrified civilians back toward the safe zones. The gutter ran deeper. His ankles sank into something wet and warm. It was a good thing there wasn’t enough light to see what it was. He clenched his fists and grit his teeth as he followed, hoping they would stop soon so he could understand why a stranger had chosen to help him.

  They halted beneath a bridge, where the gutter was hidden from anyone patrolling the street above. Both were wheezing, trying to clear their throats. Fortunately, the sirens drowned out any sound they made.

  “Are you hurt, Master Arson?” the woman asked.

  He knew that voice. One he had tried—unsuccessfully—to forget these past few days. Somewhere deep down, he had known they would meet again.

  “You,” said Jay.

  “It is me,” said Mari.

  He couldn’t keep standing. Jay leaned against the wall and clutched his chest. Eyes shut, he asked, “Why are you helping me?”

  “I felt bad,” she croaked. “For abandoning you.”

  Jay’s head floated in the clouds. He couldn’t feel his toes anymore. “What are you talking about?”

  “We saw the ships fighting, and I knew it had to be you. I stayed all night waiting for you to show up at the port. When you didn’t, I searched until I found you—and the sorceress’s body. I thought you were dead.”

  “You… were the one.” Jay pointed a shaky finger at her silhouette. “Where is it?”

  “Ezra?” asked Mari. “I have her right here.”

  Jay lunged at her. She screamed as they crashed into the sewage. He landed on top of her, reaching for the card she tried to keep away. Mari kicked, screamed, and clawed at him.

  “Give it!” Jay shouted.

  She screamed louder, raking her nails across his chest. His buttons went flying loose. That damned card had caused him too much pain already.

  Then came the blow—sharp and ringing. Pain split through his skull. The fire in him vanished at once. He collapsed onto his back and saw a girl standing over him, gripping a metal rod and trembling.

  She dropped the weapon and rushed to Mari’s side, asking if she was all right, if he had hurt her. Mari was weeping, horrified by what he’d just done.

  He had made many women cry before. Not like this. Not in this way.

  “We have to get out of here,” the girl said to Mari. “The officers must’ve heard us.”

  Jay closed his eyes and stopped breathing. Perhaps this was the most fitting death for him—struggling in a gutter after a pathetic attempt to reclaim lost power. He stopped resisting the burn in his chest and let it consume him whole. If there was a hell, he was sure to burn in it.

  “We can’t leave him here,” said Mari.

  “Are you mad?” the girl hissed.

  Fools, both of them. Their whispering turned to bickering, the younger one losing patience. Yet Mari refused to abandon him. At last, the girl sighed and helped her lift him.

  It had happened once before—these same two dragging him out of the forest when he should’ve died. They stumbled onward through the dark. Jay stirred. His fingers twitched. Mari’s pocket was right there. If only he could slip a finger through—

  “Halt!”

  The command came with the click of a pistol—then another, and another.

  When had they reached the open forest? He must have blacked out along the way. Not that it mattered now. They were caught.