Although my life had been thrown completely off the rails, one small comfort had been that only my life had been affected. My family would have to adjust to my absence a few months sooner than planned, but that was a minor change. Beyond that, Forrester's Crossing should be untouched by my actions. I had made a choice for myself alone, and it should not truly alter the world in any real way.

This comforting illusion had gone up in smoke and flames.

I stared over Skids' shoulder in disbelief.

Forrester's Crossing was burning.

The city was on fire.

Lumber was a primary export from Forrester's Crossing, and wood was a plentiful and convenient building material. It was also flammable. Or to put it in mage terms, inflammable. That quirk of language appeared to be far from the only drastic and tragic difference between the people of the sun and of the dark.

"Why are we late? It. Is. After. Noon!"

The spinnerbike swerved and wobbled, coming very close to toppling over. "Not so loud!" Skids replied, loud enough that I could hear dro's voice over the whining roar of the magical propulsion, and at the same time could hear it from my helmet, but crackling and painfully distorted. Oh.

"Sorry. But the question still stands!"

"I don't know what to tell you. It's not noon yet by my clock."

"Well either your Maker-forbidden, demon-wrought 'inflammable air' exploded by itself, or your clock is wrong!"

"The clock can't be wrong, and it clearly shows we have over fourteen minutes until twelve o'clock."

"And is that synchronised exactly to the sun's highest point in Forrester's Crossing, today specifically?"

"Uhhhh, what? That's the time. Synchronised to every scryer in every hive from the master clock in Wonambi, City of—"

"You have the same time in every hive? How do you know when... Oh, you power everything with magic..."

"Aether."

Now was not the time for quibbling over such technicalities. "Whatever! You don't use proper local time and your noon is all wrong and now the city is on fire and people are probably dead and dying and it is all our fault!" If I had not needed to be 'rescued', Skids would probably have escaped by bike instead of by train, and none of this would be happening. I almost asked Skids why we did not use the spinnerbike to get to Yiwarra, but when I considered my condition at the time, I realised I would have struggled to stay on. And if I had suffered spasms or worse symptoms while riding, that could have gone very badly for both me and Skids.

Instead, it had turned out badly for Forrester's Crossing. Smoke was continuing to rise from the city, and I was almost certain it had increased over the last minute. It was hard to be certain though, as we were only half as far from the edge of the city.

"Uhh, what's the plan here, Skids?" said Cards, who was still following a few bike lengths behind us.

"None of our scenarios covered this," Spire added.

I waited to hear what Skids was thinking. I did not have to wait very long.

"We have to do something to help. I'm the one who damaged the prototype and clearly didn't hide it well enough. This outfit is fireproof and I have a fireproof blanket, so I may be able to rescue someone who's trapped in the fire."

I appreciated dro's offer, but I could not let dro take such a risk alone. "They are my people. I must do everything I can to help," I said. "I do not know if I can ever make up for the wrong I have done, but I have to start, now." If not now, then when? When would I have a better opportunity to at least try to undo what I had caused?

"You didn't do anything wrong," Skids said, sounding frustrated.

I could see the list of regulations and statutes which I had broken, as if they were written on my very brain. The list was growing longer even now, as I continued to converse with mages and interact with their devices. "I am helping, and that is final," I declared.

"You can count us out," Cards said, and sa's spinnerbike began to slow. "There's no way I'm riding into a city of mage-haters, stopping there and willingly walking into a fire. The sooner we're moving away from the fire, the better!"

"You're deciding that for both of us?" Spire asked. "I'm not afraid!"

Cards did not take that well. "It's not about fear, it's about not being heart-stoppingly stupid. Letting us or our bike go anywhere near those sunfolk or that fire is not in the cards!"

"You're just gonna let them all die?" Spire was clearly growing angry.

"Why shouldn't we? We're not like Skids, looking for—"

"No reason to listen to them bicker, they're clearly not going to help," Skids told me, sounding both annoyed and disappointed. "Now, we need to play this smart. We can't get caught, and we can't lose another bike."

"If you drop me off in the rail tunnel close to the fire, I can climb up to the street and find a way to help. You head out the other side of the tunnel and find a better place to stash this bike, then run back and meet up with me."

I could tell that Skids wanted to argue with me, but dro had no better option. "Fine. You go in first, I'll come back for you on foot. Break you out if you get caught. I've got two ABAMs left, and my gloves should have a full aether charge for stunning. But... do you have any idea how dangerous fire can be? In the hive, we run weekly fire drills, in case something goes wrong."

"Yes, there is a whole section of the Codex about fire. I think I know what to do, and I definitely know what not to do." Most of the writings were centred around prevention and extinguishing of fires, but there was enough about how to get to safety without unnecessarily endangering oneself or others.

"Good," Skids said simply. "Our fires probably work differently due to different materials and underground airflow, but heat and smoke can't be all that different."

We reached the edge of the city and passed into the tunnel. Skids switched on the magelight on the front of the spinnerbike. I glanced over my shoulder, and saw that the other bike had turned around, and was now speeding away from us.

"Slow down once we pass the station," I said. "I think it should be two access ladders along from there."

"Mhm," Skids acknowledged.

I searched for something else to say, and came up empty. There was no point in arguing further about the time problem, and I was not at all surprised that the two casters had not agreed to help. In fact, I had not expected Spire to attempt to argue with Cards. I did have a lot I wanted to ask Skids about the pair, but now was not the time for such questions. "Thank you, Skids," I said instead. "You are a better person than I was taught a mage could be."

"You're not so bad yourself," Skids replied. It sounded like dro was smiling a bit, despite the dire situation.

The Forrester's Crossing station flashed by, and Skids began lessening the spinnerbike's speed. The hum of whatever arcane engine drove it dropped in pitch.

"Here," I said, when I thought we were almost at the right place.

Skids swiftly brought the bike to a complete stop. "You should take the blanket," dro said as I dismounted. I held the bike with one hand and took my helmet off with the other. Meanwhile, dro pulled the folded blanket out of dro's backpack as quickly as dro could without spilling dro's belongings across the tracks. "Oh, and before you go..." Dro made a quick magical gesture in my direction.

My vision changed. I was seeing thin green lines accentuating the tunnel walls, and various shades of red through yellow over Skids' body and some parts of the spinnerbike. "What did you do to me?" I asked in a panic.

"Nothing to you, just your goggles. They'll help you see where the walls are, and see heat sources. So you can find people and know where the fire is worst, even through the smoke. Oh, and take this." Dro tossed a handkerchief at my face. I could not tell what colour it really was. "To cover your mouth. It's clean!"

"Thanks," I said, folding it diagonally and tying the corners around the back of my head.

"Don't forget your helmet. We can't communicate if you're not wearing it." Skids swung dro's leg back over the bike, like someone mounting a short horse. "Take care!"

"Got it. Um, you too." I ran for the ladder, hearing the spinnerbike continuing down the tunnel behind me.

I was alone with my thoughts. I was back in Forrester's Crossing, I was healthy, and I was alone. But I was wearing a mage's clothes. If only I could get some proper clothes without being spotted, I could go home...

No. Even if I could successfully convince everyone of a story that did not involve me being exposed to magic or consorting with mages, could I really go back to a life on a foundation of lies, knowing everything I had done and caused? I did not believe that I could. And I had to know what was happening with the fire. If I did not even try to help I would not be worthy of life. Even if no one else found out, I would know. And the Great Maker would know.

"Please Maker, help me do the right thing, and not make the situation even worse," I prayed belatedly as I reached street level. My ascent had been slowed by the need to use one hand to hold my helmet, but I did not want to wear it just yet. Showing my face reduced the chance that I would be seized or shot on sight.

I could immediately smell the smoke in the air. I had only smelled smoke once before, at a special clerical demonstration. It was a stench of utter wrongness, of terror and devastation. The normal sounds of the city were drowned out by the roar of the fire, and I could just barely hear men yelling. That would be the crew manning the water hoses.

I had entered a narrow alley between two warehouses. Picking a direction which I hoped would take me to the street which fronted the blacksmith, I ran. The origin of the fire would most likely be the back of the blacksmith. That was where the purification would have been performed.

I turned the corner and faced a disheartening sight. The same food and drink tables as I had seen only yesterday were back, but they were overturned, with the food scattered and trampled. Plumes of dark smoke were pouring out of the broken display windows. One crew of men were directing a powerful stream of water from a hose into the ground floor of the blacksmith, while another crew were setting up a large metal ladder.

I approached the second group, expecting they would have the information I needed. "How many people are inside?" I asked, shouting to be heard.

"Where did you spring from? What are you doing here?" one of the ladder men demanded.

"Charity Wilison," I said, even though he had not asked my name. "I am here to help. I think I can get someone out safely, if anyone is trapped." It was best to keep my explanations as brief and straightforward as possible. Less time wasted, and less to argue about. "This is fireproof," I added, holding up the blanket.

The man who had spoken before seemed to be the chief ladder operator, and he was not at all convinced. "I don't care who you are. We have it under control, and I will not have anyone else running into that inferno."

"Wait, did she said Charity Wilison?" asked one of the other men. None of them were people I immediately recognised, though I had likely seen them before in passing. He stood out due to his prominent moustache.

"That's right. Do you know how many..."

"You mean the lost girl?" asked a third man.

"I say we let her go in," said moustache man. "It was one of her sisters who found the nightwalker's dark steed which caused this fire."

My panic burned hotter than the fire. "Who? Where? Is she safe?" If any of my family were in danger, I had to know now.

"The special guests were watching the purification from the top floor," said moustache man. "We can't get up the stairs to them, and we fear some were hurt badly by the explosion. Getting them to and down the ladder..."

It would be difficult, if it was even possible. We all knew that was the truth, though it went unspoken. "I can help you find them. I... I can see through the smoke. How many?"

"That had better not be magic," said the ladder chief as he finished getting the ladder organised.

"It's safe," I said, despite having no idea what the goggles really did or how they worked. "I can help you save lives. My sister is in there!" I hoped it was only my sister.

Kim might be in there too.

Possibly Father as well.

The third man quickly scaled the ladder, while the other two braced it in place. He knocked some remaining glass shards away from the window with a small axe, then climbed inside. He put his head back out only moments later. "Serving girl, unconscious," he yelled down.

"Miguel, you're up," the ladder chief said to a fourth man.

Miguel, who was the largest of the four, climbed up a little slower than axe man, then soon returned with a limp young woman over his shoulder. "She breathes," he said, as he laid her on a stretcher. Having been watching the ladder team, I had missed the arrival of the stretcher team.

Axe man soon passed a second serving girl to Miguel. This one was still awake, but was shaking and clearly looked disoriented. Moustache man and one of the stretcher team bent down to try talking with her.

"She says she and Elise were the only ones serving upstairs. There were serving four guests. Two clerics, and another man and a girl."

My heart sank. While that meant Kim was not in there, Father probably was. Father, and one of my sisters. "I can help!" I repeated.

Above us, Miguel helped a suited man onto the ladder. When he got close to the ground, I recognised him as Cleric Quire, despite the blood streaming down the side of his face. "Anders is dead," he said feebly. "So much blood! So much glass! He's dead, I know it!"

Anders was one of the junior clerics. Our third lost in two days, this one permanently.

"No, I need to go back!" I heard from above me. That voice. I would recognise it anywhere. Father. "I cannot leave yet! I cannot leave her!"

I knew instantly what that meant. They had found Father, but not my sister. "I can find her!"

"Charity?"

"Father, tell them to let me up! I can find my sister!"

"I had her! I had her hand in mine! But I lost her! I lost my grip! I know she's in there!"

It seemed that Father was not able to do anything but wail inconsolably. That was understandable. I was not feeling much better myself. But I had to be better. I had to do something. Father clearly wanted to do something too, but Miguel managed to get him over his shoulder and brought him to the ground.

"That is you! Where have you been? What are you wearing?"

"I..." What happened to my words. "Father! I..." There were a hundred apologies, excuses, explanations, pleas, and questions. "I have to save... her?" I still did not know who was lost in the burning building.

"My cup. Bring me my cup back," Father muttered, staring at nothing in the sky.

"Cup? Do you mean Chalice? Is..." But he did not seem to be understanding or even hearing me, and then the stretcher team were hauling him away to get him the help he needed.

"It's getting bad in here!" Axe man yelled down to the ladder chief. "Can't see a thing!"

I put my helmet on. "I will find her."

"I really ought not..." the chief began, sounding like he was on the verge of changing his mind. "And those do look like something a nightwalker would wear."

"It is fireproof, that is all that matters," I said, and took a step towards the ladder.

"Better let her up, chief," said moustache man, confirming the name I had assigned him for convenience.

"Fine, but this is not on me!" the chief said. The words were hollow though. He was still just as responsible for the decision. I hoped he would not get in too much trouble.

Hand over hand, foot over foot, I ascended. Miguel helped me through the window safely, as glass fragments were still a concern. I saw questions in his eyes, but I pretended like everything was normal. That was the only way I could keep going. Pretend like it was perfectly fine to be climbing into a burning smoke-filled building.

"I'm in. Top floor of the blacksmith," I said softly.

"I hear you," Skids replied, despite presumably being many hundreds of metres away. "I'm jogging towards you now, but I'm still on the edge of the city."

That was good. While I appreciated Skids' willingness to help, realistically there was nothing dro could offer that would be accepted. Hopefully I could find and save my sister before dro got embroiled in any more trouble, arriving in time to help me escape again. As much as I wanted to see the rest of my family and know whether my father would be alright, a hurried escape was the best I could hope for. But I had to actually find my sister first.

"My father was in here, but he is out now. One of my sisters is still in there though," I told Skids quietly. However the magic in the helmets worked, it did a good job of making sure we could hear each other's voice, regardless of the sound from the fire. And the fire was astonishingly loud. It was dark in here too. Without the magic of the goggles, I would be left with only guesswork as I stumbled around flailing my arms wildly hoping to feel a body. Preferably a live body.

I just had to remind myself that I was in the same building as a dead body.

Hopefully only one dead body.

I could not let myself think about the possibility of one of my sisters being dead due to my own mistake. No, not just a mistake. Giving Skids directions had been a mistake. Jumping onto the train had been intentional. If I had not done that... perhaps I would have been the one to find the prototype. It would have been a sensible thing for the me of a day ago to do. I would have known approximately where to look, and finding it could have earned me the boon I'd needed to survive. Though with potential exile looming over me, would it have worked? If it had, then I would have been the one watching today's purification, and then would be the one lost in the smoke, not an innocent sister who did not deserve to be suffering just for doing the right thing.

"Charity? Are you there?"

"Oh, yes." I had to focus on the search, or I would be the next dead body. I probably deserved that, but I had to find my sister first. Was it Chalice? Or was it Chastity? What would they think if they knew what I had done to bring this trouble on us?

I was doing it again. The heat was getting to me. Or the smoke.

Keeping low to avoid the worst of the noxious fumes, I breathed slowly and carefully through the handkerchief and tried not to cough. Nothing in this room, on to the next room. Why is there a door in the middle of the room? Never mind, that is not important. Look for heat, not doors. How is it possible to see heat? No, it really does not matter right now.

There, a human-shaped splotch of heat, up against one of the internal walls. There was the head, the legs, the arms... those really should not be bent like that. My panic levels took flight like a startled bird, before I realised that the body was too big to be either of my sisters. This was Anders.

I debated whether to move close enough to confirm his death, or else if I should move on to the next room as quickly as possible. Unable to make the choice, I sought a second opinion. "Skids? There's a dead man in here. I mean, probably. Should I check..."

The last thing I remembered was the sensation of flying. I never recalled the sudden stop.