14. Re

fourteen

Adrian came back to himself slowly. His limbs felt oddly heavy, like they'd been weighed down with stones, and his mouth was so dry it ached. Spirits below, what had happened?

A clearing in the woods. Kali leering down at me. Heartrender trapped in a Serenity Corp contraption that shouldn't exist. The wicked glint of a dagger…

He stretched a shaking hand to his chest and found no wound nor bandages there. That meant enough time had passed for his body to restore itself.

But then, why his parched throat and heavy limbs? Why did his head feel like it had been stuffed full of cotton?

He shifted his weight and a coarse softness slid against his fingers. Not the dirt or dried leaves of the forest floor. Something warmer and almost achingly familiar…

A blanket. He was lying atop a pile of rough blankets.

His eyes shot open. He tried to rise and groaned, clutching the sides of his head as he blinked to clear his blurred vision. Even with the room spinning, he could tell he wasn't in the clearing where he'd fought Kali. He sat on a sleeping mat in a stone hut. Crudely made furniture filled out the space, including a slab of a table and a rickety stool. The faint glow of sunlight outlined the edges of a thick, wooden door set into one wall.

Spirits above, where was he? The last thing he remembered was stabbing Kali and collapsing atop her. Then, everything had faded to black. He'd assumed that would be his final, futile act of defiance against Serenity Corp. Apparently, he'd been wrong.

He struggled to think through the fog filling his mind. Could Seymour have come back for him? No, he thought with a dull flicker of anger and hurt. The man had made his opinion on him perfectly plain. Besides, they'd parted ways weeks ago. Even with a watcher's survival skills, Seymour couldn't have tracked him down in time to save him.

Thinking of the Watcher Division made the bare room seem uncomfortably reminiscent of a cell. Perhaps Kali had left a contingent of watchers nearby. She'd communicated with someone there near the end—a seeker. That meant others might've known her location. What if he'd killed Kali only to fall into the hands of her minions?

He checked his bonds and huffed a relieved sigh. Both remained intact. Yet, when he tried to reach out to his daemons, something felt…off. His connection to Heartrender was faint, like a thin thread stretched taut. When he realized why, his heart sank. Kali's containment device! Whoever had brought him here must have left it behind, Heartrender still trapped within.

His bond with Lockrod appeared normal at first glance. However, when he tried to summon or communicate with the daemon, he found their link blocked. It wasn't quite what he'd experienced with Heartrender's bondstone—that had been like an invisible barrier erected between them. This felt more amorphous, as if he lacked a good enough grasp on his aether to access Lockrod's bond.

The more he struggled, the more dread stole over him. Even cycling aether through his body proved impossible. That explained the aching muscles and addled mind. His body was so used to the extra strength imparted by his aether that, suddenly stripped of it, he felt like an invalid. He couldn't even muster enough to reach out with his aethersense.

He fought down a rising tide of panic. He was still alive, which was more than he'd expected. And unless he'd gravely miscalculated, Kali, the Serenity Corp agent who'd hunted him for months, had perished. If he could accomplish that, then he could find a way out of this new predicament. Staggering to his feet, he set about searching his cell.

An hour later, he wobbled back to his sleeping mat to rest his whirling head. So much for optimism. Whatever was suppressing his aether hadn't faded, at least not to any noticeable degree, and the walls and door were solid despite their worn appearance. Spirits above, what was he going to do?

He didn't know how long he lay curled there, but eventually, a rasping click came from the door. He sat up too quickly and had to lean forward as he waited for his vision to stabilize. A figure slipped inside, shutting the door behind them. Once the room had stopped spinning, he glanced up and saw it was a woman. Her graying hair was pulled back into a tight bun, and her wrinkled face glared at him with obvious mistrust.

His patience reached its limits. "Where am I?" The words came out a croak. "Who are you?"

The woman's disapproving scowl deepened. She huffed, turning away. At first, he feared she was going to leave him here alone again, but then she set something down on the small table—a platter of food, with a cup to drink from. He hadn't even noticed her carrying it.

When he tried to sit up, the woman whipped around, raising a finger in warning. "Don't! I like you right where you are, spirits have mercy. You can eat your fill once I leave."

She moved to do just that.

"Wait!" he called. "Please."

The woman paused, her hunched back toward him.

He swallowed and did his best to gather his addled thoughts. "If you won't tell me about yourself, at least tell me what happened. The last thing I remember, I was dying in the forest."

Sighing, she turned back to him, though she kept a hand pressed to the door. "It was a near thing. If you hadn't called that friend of yours for help, you'd probably be daemon chow."

Called for help? Spirits above, what did that mean? He sorted through the hundred different questions he had for the most pressing. "When you say ‘my friend,' do you mean Seymour?"

She jerked a nod, and some of the coiled tension in him eased. Though he still didn't understand how it was possible, it sounded like Seymour might not have abandoned him after all.

"Aye, him," the woman continued unhappily. "Insisted on rushing to your aid and dragged poor Xander along to do it!" She eyed him as though he should be ashamed of that fact.

The name sounded vaguely familiar. It took him a moment to recall the kid they'd rescued from Souleater. "Is Xander a member of your…group?" This woman couldn't be part of the Watcher Division, not when she bore no weapons and wore a woven shawl rather than armor. Did she live in a small village like Hillvale bordering Overlin Forest?

She ignored his question. "Xander, bless his na?ve heart, thought he owed you, and now you're our mess to deal with. We should've turned you away, but Elana's too gentle a soul."

Elana. Was that the name of their leader? He filed the knowledge away for future reference. "Thank you for tending to my wounds. Is that why I feel so weak?"

The woman snorted. "That'll be the Suprimera tea. No long-lasting effects, but it stops you from accessing aether." She gave him a stern look. "I'll be back later to make sure you take another dose. The last thing we need is a daemon master running amok."

He frowned at the way she said daemon master, like it was a curse. Practically everyone over the age of thirteen in the League unlocked their aether to bond their first daemon.

Letting the unusual comment slide, he asked, "And my daemons? Are they okay?"

"As if a daemon master like you actually cares. I assume they're caged inside you, as usual."

Caged? Maybe it was his suppressed aether, but he felt like he'd missed some vital part of this conversation. "My daemons aren't my prisoners. They're my friends."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Friends? What kind of twisted joke is that?" Fury made her forget her earlier caution, and she stepped away from the door, jabbing a finger at him. "You daemon masters are all the same, thinking you have the right to own another creature. Well, you don't!"

"It's not like that!" he protested. "Our daemons chose to bond with us. As equals."

"Your friend claimed the same rubbish. No doubt it's yet another lie to justify your kind's lust for power. Daemons were meant to remain free, same as us."

Her dismissal left him strangely angry. Here he was, risking his life to defy Serenity Corp, and this woman had the gall to lump him in with them.

He opened his mouth to continue arguing, but she spoke first.

"Save your words. They'll do you no good—not with me." She turned toward the door.

"Wait!" he shouted at her retreating back. "I want to speak to Seymour."

"That depends on what our leader has to say," the woman replied curtly. "Though, if I were you, I wouldn't hold my breath." With that, she was gone, slamming the door behind her.

True to her word, she returned a few hours later with a cup of tea for him to drink. Its foul odor almost made him throw up the simple meal she'd left during her last visit.

"Drink every drop, or I'll get someone in here to force-feed it to you."

Adrian eyed the woman, gauging his odds of overpowering her. Not great. With his leaden muscles and sluggish reflexes, he probably couldn't manage any of the maneuvers Seymour had taught him. Besides, for all she appeared frail and elderly, she possessed aether while he didn't. Even if she'd never trained beyond the basics, she could still manhandle him like a small child.

Seeing little choice, he choked down the abysmal liquid. Whatever herbs went into its making certainly hadn't been selected for their taste.

Time passed slowly after that, intermittent visits from his reticent jailer his only breaks from the monotony. That left him plenty of opportunities to stew over his unanswered questions.

How had he contacted Seymour in his hour of need?

Was the watcher okay?

Was Kali really dead?

And what of Heartrender, still trapped in that distant clearing?

I'll come for you as soon as I can, he swore as he prepared for bed several restless nights later. Whatever it takes, I'll find a way to keep you safe.

The next morning, he finally received a new visitor. She wore the same wrapped shawl as his jailer and looked to be of similar age, though her hair had more silver than gray and had been left loose to spill down her back. Even more noticeable, her wrinkled face bore a smile rather than a scowl.

"Hello, Adrian." Her voice came out soft—polite but worn. "I'm sorry it's taken me this long to see you, but your arrival has caused quite a stir in our little community."

"Your community?" he asked, shifting to sit up on his sleeping mat.

He didn't really expect an answer after his jailer's tight-lippedness, but to his surprise, she nodded. "I'm afraid we've grown rather protective of our privacy. It's been years since anyone new joined the Enclave, so you've been something of a shock for our self-imposed isolation."

The Enclave. That at least put a name to his location, even if it wasn't one he remembered seeing on any map of the League.

"You don't trade with other local villages?"

The woman chuckled. "We do, but always with our own caravans and under different names. After all, it would be difficult to convince any merchants to venture into Overlin Forest."

His eyes widened. "We're still in the forest?"

"Indeed." The woman's gaze grew distant as she sank onto his rickety stool. "We created the Enclave some twenty years ago, setting off into Overlin Forest with our families and what supplies we could carry. Since then, a few of our old friends and neighbors have joined us, along with the occasional refugee seeking their own retreat from the perils of modern life."

"When you say perils, do you mean the use of bondstones?" He couldn't keep the eagerness out of his voice. This might be the opening he needed to plead his case.

The woman frowned slightly, her brow furrowing. "Well, yes, among other things. We believe people were meant to exist in harmony with our daemonic neighbors—an impossible dream so long as we wage war to enslave them. Thus, we have sworn to never bond a daemon."

"No daemons?"The words came out louder than he'd intended, and he winced, moderating his tone. "Apologies. I meant no offense, but doesn't that make it hard to survive?"

Thankfully, she didn't appear bothered by the question. "A little, especially at first. But it's also forced us to fend for ourselves and reclaim our independence. Besides, you'd be surprised how helpful daemons can be when you don't force them to do your bidding in chains."

A faint hope stirred in Adrian's breast. Out of everyone in the League, surely people who had already turned their backs on Serenity Corp would be the most willing to accept the truth. First though, he needed to learn all he could and convince them to set Seymour and him free.

"It was Xander and Seymour who rescued me, right?" When she nodded, he continued. "That other woman mentioned something about me reaching out to them. What did she mean?"

The woman blinked, then startled him by smacking her head. "Spirits above, you'll have to forgive my manners. I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Elana. While we mostly govern ourselves, I suppose I'm the closest thing we have to a leader. The other woman you've met is my sister, Leda."

Something in the way she said her sister's name suggested an underlying tension. Interesting.

"It's good to meet you, Elana. I'm Adrian, though you already know that. As for my question…"

"To be honest, I'm not entirely sure. Xander told me he was on his way back to the Enclave when he saw smoke through the trees. He went to investigate and ran into your friend. At first, your friend seemed to think Xander had something to do with attacking you."

Elana said it as though it were the most preposterous idea in the world, and Adrian fought down a savage surge of vindication. So much for Seymour's certainty he'd made the wrong call.

"I hope Seymour didn't do anything brash," he said.

"Thankfully not. Xander convinced him of his innocence and agreed to help him look for you. When they received your distress call, Xander insisted he bring you here." She hesitated. "A decision some, like my sister, feel was unwise."

"And what about you?"

Her silver eyes studied him. "I have yet to make that determination."

As a charged silence stretched between them, his mind drifted to Seymour, warmth blooming once more in his chest. It sounded like the watcher had continued searching for him right up until the end and might have even caught up with him before Kali had he been but a day or two faster.

Speaking of…

"What about the woman I was fighting?" he asked, holding his breath.

"Dead." Elana gave him a disapproving look when he failed to muffle his relieved exhale. "I don't know what transpired between you, but I cannot condone violence, no matter the cause."

Adrian bristled at the judgment in her tone even as his own guilt reared. It wasn't like he'd wanted to kill another human being. He'd certainly taken no pleasure in the act. But Serenity Corp had left him little choice. He'd done what was necessary to survive. Hadn't he?

Desperate to change the subject, he asked, "Did you recover any of her daemons or gear?"

Elana shook her head. "Xander and your friend were in too much of a hurry. Besides, any daemons she had are better off now that they're free."

That much, he could agree with. His heart sank regardless at the affirmation of Heartrender's fate. He'd held out some vain hope that he'd been wrong in his interpretation of their bond. Instead, she remained trapped in the woods, easy prey for wild daemons or any of Kali's comrades still searching for her. That made it more important than ever that he convinced Elana to let him go. So far, she'd mentioned nothing of his imprisonment. Time to force the issue.

"Now that I'm healed," he said carefully, "When might we be allowed to leave?"

Elana hesitated, her face clouding. She rose from her stool and began to pace the narrow confines of the chamber. "Leda isn't the only one concerned about the risks you pose."

"We won't hurt you," he said quickly. "All we want is to keep moving."

"Words are easy." Her mouth tightened into a thin line. "Yet, how can we trust an admitted murderer who enslaves daemons? Even if you left us in peace, you could tell others about us."

"Why would we do that?"

She paused, resting her gnarled hands on the table and giving him a shrewd look. "If you're caught by those pursuing you, you may not have a choice."

So, she suspected more about his confrontation with Kali than she was letting on. That gave him another angle to exploit.

"By the same token, our pursuers might track us here if we stay."

She nodded as if she'd already considered the possibility. "Hence, our dilemma. If we let you go, you may doom us. But if we keep you here, it could lead to the same result." Her expression darkened. "This has led some to propose more…drastic options."

The way she said it made it clear she disagreed. Still, he swallowed hard. With his aether suppressed, he was utterly at these people's mercy.

"Perhaps we can assuage some of your fears. I'm sure Seymour told you about our unique bonds?"

"He mentioned it, though he hasn't been particularly eager to talk to us."

Gee, I wonder why.

Keeping that thought to himself, he said, "Well, in case it wasn't clear, we didn't enslave our daemons. They agreed to bond with us."

Shock rippled across her features. "Bondstones strip daemons of their free will. I've seen it more times than I care to count."

"They do," he agreed. "But they're not the only way to bond a daemon."

He launched into an abbreviated explanation of his discovery of Crastley's journal and everything that had happened since. He'd told the tale enough by now it was becoming second nature. When he finished, Elana sat in stunned silence.

"Well," she said after a beat. "That's…quite the story."

"I know it's a lot to take on faith. But if you let us go, or at least stop force-feeding us that awful tea, we can show you. We could even teach you how to form your own true bonds."

"It's not that simple," she sighed.

"Sure, it is!" He stood, eliciting a wary look from Elana. Raising his hands to signal he wasn't a threat, he said, "People deserve to hear the truth. This could be exactly what's needed to put an end to daemonic enslavement and usher in a new era of peace."

She bowed her head. "I so desperately want to believe you," she said, playing with the fringe of her shawl. "But how can I be sure this isn't an elaborate trick to regain control of your aether? I may not endorse Serenity Corp's methods, but I also know they wouldn't pursue fugitives they didn't believe dangerous."

"We are dangerous—dangerous to their way of life."

"I'm sorry," she said, shaking her head.

She moved toward the door, and his stomach dropped.

"No, please, don't go! There has to be a way we can reach an accord!"

"I…I need time to think. To reflect on what is best. We will speak again soon."

Ignoring his shouted pleas, she fled the room, leaving him alone in his cell once more.

Adrian awoke to a rustling at his door. He eyed the wooden slab suspiciously. Nothing—no movement, nor sound. Had he imagined it? Leda had already made her last visit for the night to force her foul tea down his throat and judging by the lack of light around the frame, it should be hours before she arrived with breakfast.

Must have been some half-forgotten dream.He certainly had plenty to keep him up at night. He rolled over to go back to sleep.

That's when he heard it—the light click of the lock disengaging. Bolting upright, he stared at the door. It creaked open wide enough for a figure to slip inside, quietly shutting it behind them. His eyes widened when they stepped forward.

"Seymour! Spirits above, what are you doing here?"

Dirt coated the watcher from head to toe, his clothes torn and ragged. A cut on his lip oozed blood, along with another gash on his arm.

"Keep your voice down!" Seymour hissed. "I didn't see any guards outside, but surely even a bunch of daemon-loving pacifists know to post a sentry."

Despite the watcher's gruff demeanor, Adrian couldn't hide his grin. "You saved my life."

Seymour grimaced. "Don't remind me." His expression softened as he swept his emerald gaze over Adrian, his eyes lingering on Adrian's face a touch longer than usual. "Still, it is good to see you up and about. I assume you can't access your aether either?"

Adrian shook his head. "The tea—"

"Yes, yes, that spirit-cursed tea. I'd hoped you learned some trick from Old Man Crastley to get around it. Pity. We'll just have to pray no one raises an alarm until we're gone." Seymour positioned himself by the door, reaching for the handle. "Ready?"

Adrian blinked, feeling two steps behind. "What are you talking about?"

Seymour sighed and spoke slowly, as if explaining something to a small child. "We're breaking out of here. I made a racket until that spirit-cursed woman came to shut me up. We fought"—he held up his bloody arm—"and I won. Now, unless you fancy waiting around for someone to notice she's missing and come check on us, I suggest we get moving."

Nodding, Adrian stumbled to his feet. This was their best chance to rescue Heartrender and escape any of Kali's unseen accomplices who might still be hunting them. He reached the doorway and paused, his earlier conversation with Elana flickering through his head.

Seymour shot him an impatient look. "What are you waiting for? We need to get out of here before someone raises an alarm."

"Maybe…" He bit his lip. "Maybe we should consider staying."

Seymour's body went rigid. "Have you lost your spirit-cursed mind?"

Adrian winced, a part of him wondering the same thing. "I know our reception has been…less than friendly."

Seymour snorted, crossing his arms over his tattered shirt. Blood and dirt congealed there into a muddy brown.

"But their leader seemed reasonable enough," Adrian continued before the watcher could stop him. "If we can convince her we mean no harm, she might be willing to listen."

"Listen to us about what? Letting us go? Because if you haven't noticed, we no longer require her permission."

Adrian ran a hand through his grimy hair. "About the truth. These people have already given up bondstones in defiance of Serenity Corp. They could prove valuable allies."

"Do you hear how ridiculous you sound?" Seymour said. "Your so-called allies have kept us locked up for days, with no hint of when they might release or kill us!"

"I know, I know. But…"

Frustration burned hot in his throat. Staying could mean forsaking Heartrender while leaving might jeopardize their best hope of defying Serenity Corp. Not that he had any clear concept of what that meant. All he knew was that simply surviving no longer felt like enough.

"If we can't even convince Serenity Corp's most adamant detractors to believe us, what hope do we have of convincing anyone else?"

Now that he'd admitted it out loud, he realized that was the real reason he wanted to stay. He'd grown up dismissed by everyone around him. What if, faced with an unpleasant truth, no one believed them. Worse, what if they simply didn't care? That would mean he'd gone through all this—survived Kali—for nothing. They'd spend the rest of their lives as fugitives while humans and daemons continued senselessly slaughtering each other until the world ended.

Seymour gave him an assessing look. When he spoke, Adrian was surprised at the gruff gentleness in his tone. "Look, I understand what you want to do here, Adrian, and I see your point. But we're not going to convince anyone of anything locked up like this."

Adrian expelled a heavy breath and gave a reluctant nod. "So, what do you suggest?"

"We stick to my original plan—we escape." The watcher raised a finger to forestall any protests. "But we don't run. We recover our aether and, when we're ready, return here at full strength so we can negotiate on equal footing. What better way to show them we mean no harm?"

Elana and her ilk might turn them aside, treat them as enemies, or refuse to listen for any of a dozen reasons. Still, it sounded like their best shot. Besides, regaining their freedom would allow him to ensure that Heartrender was all right.

"Fine," he said, praying to the spirits he was making the right call. "Let's go."

He followed Seymour out into the night, stricken by how much darker everything seemed without aether to enhance his vision. They appeared to be on the outskirts of a village. Standing torches flickered further in, along with more stone huts like the one he—and, he assumed, Seymour—had been locked in these past few days. Laughter spilled over from a large bonfire in the distance, along with the mouth-watering smell of roasting meat.

"No sign of patrols," Seymour murmured, his muscles tensed as he scanned the area. "Still, there might be sentries in the trees. Keep low, stay silent, and follow me. If they raise an alarm, split up to divide their forces. We'll meet back up afterward."

Adrian nodded, and they set off at a crouched run away from the fire. Ancient trees loomed above them as they approached, made all the more intimidating due to his lack of aether.

Taking a deep breath, he strove to smother his nerves. He was far from the runt who'd first entered these woods months ago. Aether or no aether, he'd face whatever challenge Overlin Forest threw at him next.

They'd almost reached the treeline, the moonlight overhead barely enough to see by, when he caught an azure glow nearby and froze right as a daemon crossed their path. Its body was lumpy like unmolded clay while its head protruded on a long, serpentine neck. A forked tongue tasted the air as it swiveled to face them.

They stood there, staring at the daemon while it regarded them. Would it alert its master to their escape? Sound an alarm? Or simply move to attack?

After a tense handful of heartbeats, the daemon turned and shuffled off.

"I…I guess it was only curious?" Adrian asked, dazed.

Seymour resumed his prowling gait toward the forest. "I'm not about to look a gift daemon in the mouth. Come on!"

A few minutes later, they paused to catch their breath beneath the cover of the trees. Their bodies weren't used to even this level of light exertion without aether. They'd encountered no one else on their way out of the village, though Seymour had spotted a pair of figures in the distance chatting as they made a lazy circuit about the perimeter. Muttering under his breath about lax discipline, Seymour had easily evaded them.

"I'd have…expected…more guards," Adrian panted.

Seymour shrugged. "I suppose that's what happens when you live out in the middle of nowhere—you become complacent. They likely thought that tea of theirs would be enough to deter us. Honestly, that daemon we encountered posed a greater threat than those ‘guards,' even if it was acting peculiar."

Adrian had spent the hike considering their odd encounter and thought he'd figured it out. "Remember how…there are…no daemon masters here?" he wheezed. Seymour gave him a look, so he soldiered on. "Well, that must've…been a wild daemon…used to being around people."

Seymour snorted and shook his head. "I never thought I'd see the day where humans and daemons coexisted like that. They probably spoil those beasts rotten with treats of aether."

Adrian grinned despite his exhaustion. "You saw the furniture and those stone houses. My guess is the daemons pay it back by expending aether of their own assisting around town."

That brought a thoughtful expression to the watcher's face. "Perhaps. With any luck, I suppose you'll have a chance to ask." He grimaced. "Once this spirit-cursed tea wears off, that is. We'll walk awhile longer in case they come looking for us, then hunker down and wait it out."

"Actually, there's somewhere else we need to go first. Kali used some sort of aetherforged device on Heartrender to trap her essence. It got left behind in the clearing where we fought. Even through the haze from the tea, I think I can point us in the right direction."

Seymour nodded, much to Adrian's relief. He hadn't been looking forward to arguing the point if Seymour refused to accompany him.

"Another march, then," the watcher said. "It took Xander and me about four days to reach the Enclave, though that was while carrying you. Once our aether returns, we should be able to double that pace."

Adrian prayed he was right…and that Heartrender remained unharmed in the meantime.

True to what Leda had told him, it took almost a full day for the tea to wear off. When it finally did, Adrian marveled at the renewed strength coursing through his body. He wasted no time extending his aethersense and snapping a mental shroud into place. Even if Arbiter Janice had long since given up trying to contact him, that didn't mean others wouldn't attempt similar tricks.

To his relief, Lockrod was fine, albeit a touch agitated by his temporary isolation. Seymour seemed unimpressed with the tiny, monkey-like daemon until Adrian demonstrated Lockrod's ability to generate a weapon on the fly. That certainly got the watcher's attention. While Seymour didn't display much outward emotion during his own reunion with Tremorfist, Adrian could tell by his softened demeanor that he appreciated having his daemon at his side once more.

As Seymour had predicted, they made great time once they'd recovered their aether, alternating between full Fusions to ride within their daemons and reverse Enhancements to bolster their own endurance. Along the way, Adrian regaled Seymour with his defeat of Kali.

When he'd finished, Seymour shook his head. "I never would've thought you had it in you. Of course, you might've saved yourself a massive headache if you'd focused Blazewing first."

Adrian furrowed his brow. "I thought if I took Kali down quick, I could avoid engaging her daemons altogether. It's how I beat you."

"That was a draw at best," Seymour snapped. "Regardless, that sort of tactic never would have worked here. I only had one daemon, but you knew Kali had both of hers, and you'd already witnessed the strength of Blazewing's attacks. If you'd focused your initial assault on it, that would have left you much better positioned to take on Kali and Shadowlash in melee. Then, of course, there was that blunder you made when you…"

The watcher proceeded to outline in exacting detail every tactical error Adrian had made. Tremorfist grunted and nodded along in agreement. By the end of it, Adrian was flushed with embarrassment and scowling at the ground. Did I really miss this spirit-cursed man's company?

Seymour clapped him on the back. "Not that you didn't do an adequate job. Your strategy worked, after all, and that's the most important thing. We'll have plenty of time to refine your tactics when we resume your training."

Adrian stumbled, looking up in surprise. Seymour must've misinterpreted his expression because he sighed and scratched at the nape of his neck in an uncharacteristic show of uncertainty.

"Look," he began. "I…I know I said some pretty harsh things after Blazewing attacked our camp. I'm sorry. I was a spirit-cursed fool for running off on you. If we'd stuck together, you wouldn't have almost died, and we could've set a much more effective trap for Kali."

They locked eyes, and Adrian's remaining anger evaporated at the genuine remorse he caught in Seymour's emerald gaze. If he didn't know better, he might've called the watcher's expression almost…tender.

Swallowing, he looked away. "I'm sorry, too. But I'm not sure your presence would've made much of a difference. The only reason I even stood a chance was that Kali kept underestimating me. If she'd really wanted to win, she could've attacked me all-out from the beginning."

Seymour nodded, his face regaining its typical sternness. "A valuable lesson to never give your enemy an opening. Always, always fight with your all."

Adrian fell silent as he digested those words. He wasn't sure he entirely agreed—mercy was important too, wasn't it? An image of Kali flashed through his mind, and he grimaced. At least, when you could afford the gesture.

Thinking of his last stand reminded him of another lingering question he had. "Elana and Leda both said I reached out to you after the battle, but they either wouldn't or couldn't tell me how. Do you know what they meant?"

The watcher frowned at the surrounding trees. "It was the strangest thing. That kid and I had been searching for you for days when I suddenly heard your voice in my head."

"What did I say?"

Seymour smirked. "A bunch of jumbled nonsense, but that's hardly unusual. I tried to get you to explain, but you were out of it. I only caught enough to know that Kali was involved and that you were in trouble. I traced the signal with my aethersense. By the time it cut out, we were close enough to find you the old-fashioned way. You don't know how you did it?"

Adrian shook his head. What Seymour was describing sounded like a daemonic sending technique, but neither of his daemons possessed such abilities.

Seymour grunted and picked up his pace. "Maybe we'll find the answer once we get there."

I hope so.

Dogged by thoughts of mysterious cries for help and his fears for Heartrender's safety, Adrian lengthened his own strides to keep up while Lockrod hopped along merrily by his feet. Answers couldn't come soon enough.