“What are you doing here?” Adelmo’s voice shook as he saw the group ducking into his door. The wind mage followed up behind and looked surreptitiously over her shoulder as she closed the front door and locked it.

“You were supposed to be out and gone by now.” Adelmo looked across the group, his eyes widening in surprise as he noted the newcomers. Confusion now replaced panic as he turned back to the wind mage. “Suri?”

“I’m afraid that plan won’t work anymore,” the wind mage answered. She ran a hand through her short hair and looked over the group. Her skin was paler than even Adelmo’s, contrasting with the rich black of her hair. Quenti noted the worry lines etched deep on her forehead. She looked like an exhausted parent, despite likely being only a few years older than her.

Adelmo’s eyes roamed over the group in front of him and Quenti felt her own gaze follow. It was a sorry sight. Mitteo timidly stood to the side, his magite clothes wrinkled. Alara’s hair was tangled and spotted with blood, her clothing askew and aguayo lost in the battle. Beside her, Lili and Runeo’s own outfits were torn and stained with what Quenti realized with a lurch was her own blood. Lili’s skin had taken on a grayish hue, and Runeo looked… broken. Khuna and Zinita were still wearing their prison garb—drab brown sacks—and their faces were thin and pale with exhaustion. Zinita still had her arm cradled to her chest. Quenti didn’t dare look down at herself — at the ripped and stained fabric that would only remind her of the sharp scent of her own flesh and blood that she was trying desperately to forget.

Suri’s voice broke through Quenti's thoughts like a knife. “Even if they wanted to leave, they can’t.”

Quenti snapped to attention, but it was Alara who spoke up first. “What?”

Suri didn’t seem to register the interruption. “The Council has sealed the borders of Cielo until they can sweep for the fugitives.” She finally looked at the group, her eyes flaring with anger. “Apparently you’ve upset some people in high places.”

“They’ve sealed off the exits?” Lili asked, eyebrows furrowed. “But they don’t know about the tunnels. Surely those will still be open.”

Suri shook her head. “It’s a magical seal. There will be no way for anyone to cross the threshold from any point until it’s disabled.” She pursed her lips tight in a grim line. “And they won’t disable it until you’re caught.”

It was as if the air had been sucked from the room. Quenti struggled to take a breath. Trapped. They were trapped. A cold, rough hand slipped into her own and she turned to see Khuna standing beside her, eyes focused straight ahead.

Quenti squeezed the hand and took another breath, touching the coolness of her magia in reassurance.

“So, now what’s the plan?” Quenti’s voice was firm despite the taste of fear that sat on her tongue.

Suri slumped into a nearby chair. “I don’t know. You’ve really screwed this up. The Council is after you, and that’s now putting our entire network in danger..”

“Maybe if the network had helped us, we wouldn’t have made such a mess of things,” Alara said.

“The network,” Suri’s eyes bore a hole through Alara as she spoke, “survives through caution. If the Council were to know there was dissent from within, no one would be safe from the sweeps.”

“We didn’t have a choice. We had to save them.”

“And look where it got you,” Suri said coldly. “Now no one can leave, and we’re all in danger of being caught and wiped—or worse.”

“Wiped?” Runeo’s voice was shaky and soft, but it still jarred Quenti to hear him speak. He hadn’t said anything since the dungeon.

“Mind-wiped. The Council has multiple mind-walkers they utilize for the task.”

“Is that what happened to my brother?” Runeo’s voice was hoarse. “He didn’t remember me; he wasn’t…” It cracked and his words fell away.

Suri’s eyes almost held pity as they looked at him. “Sounds like it. That’s how they deal with bruyas or magites who don’t consent to the Council’s rule. Wipe their memories and pasts away and remake them as the perfect followers of the Council and El’dyo.”

Her words were almost casual, but the implications made Quenti’s stomach churn. She had heard the stories whispered behind closed doors when she was younger. It was yet another reason her mother never trusted the Council, but Quenti had never understood the implications of it all until now. Would her memories have been wiped if she had stayed longer and kept resisting? Would she have lost her entire past—her entire being? A restless energy settled in her bones.

“The ones that get wiped are lucky, perhaps,” Mitteo said, voice soft. “Cause enough trouble, resist a few too many times, and disappear for good.”

Alara looked like she’d been struck by lightning, her face pale and eyes sharp. “They wouldn’t.”

But the words were feeble, and the girl fell silent. Quenti remembered the look on Micos’s face again. There was no arguing with reality.

“They’ll wipe us—if we get caught,” Quenti said.

“If we’re worth it,” Mitteo muttered off to the side.

Adelmo’s eyes were sharp as he looked around the room. “Let’s just focus on you not getting caught.”

“We need a plan,” Suri said, sitting up straighter.

“Let’s just stop talking and get moving, then,” Quenti said.

“She’s right. They’ll start the sweeps soon and you’ll be found here easily enough,” Adelmo said. His eyes were on the closed door.

“We need to move into the tunnels first. Then we can formulate a plan to get you all out of here. Without exposing anymore of the network. That part is key, and arguably more important than the first.”

“Or maybe the network can stop hiding with its tail between its legs and actually do something,” Alara said.

“You stupid child.”

“You’re not much older than we are!”

“Then stop acting like it,” Suri fired back. “This could start a war. Balance between blameless and mage is delicate at best.” The air in the room seemed to shift with her powers.

“The bruyas are already fighting a war,” Quenti said, no longer able to keep silent. “They’ve been fighting for generations. The blameless and mages declared war on them from the moment they stopped bowing down to the Council. Maybe it’s time to stop pretending this is peace and balance.”

Every pair of eyes turned to Quenti. She could see the surprise on Khuna’s face, but couldn’t bring herself to care. Quenti was tired, angry, and more than a little scared.

It was Adelmo who spoke first, face creased with concern, and Quenti remembered with a jolt that he was blameless. She felt a small pang of guilt, but pushed it aside. She didn’t have time to examine her emotions toward Adelmo right now.

“Perhaps tomorrow we can worry about wars, but let us try to win this battle first.” He clapped his hands together. “We need to get into the tunnels. There is a meeting chamber. If others within the network wish to help, that’s where they will be.”

“You think others will come?” Quenti looked hopeful, if hesitant.

“We can hope,” Adelmo said. He paused. The room was silent, and no one moved. “Come now. We need to head out.”

He pulled aside the rug and pulled up the loose planks of wood, motioning for them to follow as he climbed into the basement.

Alara followed first and then the rest shifted, finally shuffling toward the opening. Khuna followed behind Zinita and Quenti looked back to see Runeo still standing in the corner, unmoving. His face was gray and his eyes unfocused. He hadn’t moved or acknowledged the conversation after his brief words regarding Micos.

Quenti hadn’t known him for long, but she had never seen him looking so young. He looked like a child who had lost their parent—or a brother who had lost his family. The empathy sliced into her like a hot dagger and she looked away, unwilling to feel that ache right now.

Grabbing his hand, Quenti pulled him behind her and they followed the others into the basement without another word.

***

Adelmo led them through the tunnels, back through the passage they had originally taken, and toward the other fork. They walked for another hour before Adelmo stopped the group. They were still in the tunnel, the darkness pressing in on them, not completely enveloped, thanks to the light of the torch Suri held.

Quenti looked around expectedly, but saw nothing to indicate they had reached any particular destination. Suri pressed the torch flame closer to the wall and a small carving lit up in the tunnel. It was the same condor that marked the entrance into Adelmo’s stables. Suri passed the torch to Adelmo as she held her hand out, a small whirl of wind spinning on her palm. She pressed her hand against the carving. It glowed with an inner light, and then the wall melted back, opening into a doorway.

Light flooded the tunnel and Quenti squinted, blinded by the change. Perhaps it was this adjustment that delayed the revelation of what stood behind the door.

As Adelmo stepped forward, the others followed. Quenti and Runeo ducked in last, looking around the large, lit room. Torches lined the walls and a large table stood at its center. And at the table, a single woman—a woman in mage garb—sat. She gave a tired smile as she saw Adelmo and the others filtering in.

“Elna,” he said warmly, moving to embrace her. “It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you, too.” Her voice was soft. She was younger than Adelmo, although older than anyone else in their group. Her hair was almost gold in the light of the torches, with strands of silver sparkling among the golden threads. Though, despite her graying hair, the woman’s skin was still smooth. Quenti noted the blue scarf that hung across her shoulder, indicating she was a water mage.

Mitteo took a seat at the table, a few chairs down from where Elna stood with Adelmo.

“You look strangely comfortable,” Alara said to her fellow magite, mouth agape. “You knew about this place?”

Mitteo suppressed a smile. “For longer than you can imagine.”

“Mitteo,” Adelmo said, “has been a member of our ranks for many years now, and most recently, an informant on magite missions.”

“And all that bumbling around?” Alara said, “was it just for show?”

“Not all of it,” Mitteo admitted. “But on missions, I always tried to give our bruya brethren a chance to escape when possible.” Mitteo looked around the room. “How long until the others arrive?”

He looked more comfortable and confident than Quenti had ever seen him before.

The woman gave a sigh, and she sat back down into her chair, heavy. “There won’t be any others.”

“This is it?” Alara bit out.

Adelmo’s face looked drawn as he sat down beside Elna. The rest of the group followed his lead.

“When the envia went out,” Elna said, “it was chaos. The network was unprepared and didn’t know what to do. It was quickly followed by another message—one indicating we were to stay out of this.” She paused, looking at the group, her eyes falling on Mitteo and Suri. “In fact, we were to fall in line with the Council’s orders. We were told to capture the fugitives and bring them to the councilguards ourselves, if it came to it.”

“The network wants us working for the Council?” Mitteo’s face was red and his brow furrowed.

Elna remained calm, her eyes soft as she took in Mitteo’s anger. “This was an unsanctioned operation that puts the entire network in danger. We can’t afford to be unveiled because of a hotheaded few.”

Alara flinched at this. “So, we should have left them to die?”

Elna didn’t reply to this and the group let the words sit, the silence heavy. Alara’s eyes were distant, cast downward onto the table.

“What happens now?” Runeo’s voice was soft.

“Well, we get you all out of here as fast as we can. If either side catches you, it’s over.”

Mitteo slumped back into his chair, “Us too?”

“The second you revealed yourselves, your affiliation with the network ended.” Elna’s voice held no sympathy. “You’ll need to leave with the rest.”

Beside her, Alara stiffened, knuckles white as she gripped her spear. You’ll need to leave with the rest. The implication was clear. Quenti didn’t move to comfort the other girl—she knew there was nothing that could be done or said.

“How do we get past the barrier?” Quenti asked.

“It’s a sosteya spell that’s holding the border—a wall of air and fire magia that keeps anything from moving through. A powerful one,” the older mage said.

“Who’s holding it?” Alara asked. “Take them out and we can take out the barrier.” Her voice was higher than normal, but her face was set in a grim look of determination.

“Most likely, there are more than two mages holding the spell. Maybe even receptives,” Elna replied.

“What does that mean?” Quenti asked.

“That it would be almost impossible to find and stop it at its source,” Mitteo answered. Elna gave him a nod.

“We can’t shut it off, but maybe we can break through it,” Alara said.

“Break through the barrier with magia, you mean?” Quenti asked.

The golden-haired mage pursed her lips in thought. “In the end, though powerful, the spell is just air and fire. If we attack it from multiple points at the same time...”

Khuna looked around the room, her face drawn with anxiety. “How many do we have for this?”

“Nine,” Mitteo said, his own eyebrows furrowed. “Do you really think that’s enough?”

“No. But it’ll have to be,” Elna replied.