Fale bunched her hand into a fist, slammed it on the table, and let out another howl. Then she looked up and saw Xerxes across from her, his face pale.

Expression softening, she walked around the table and put a hand on his shoulder. “I heard about how you fought. You did what you could.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but words wouldn’t come out. He wasn’t sure Fale was right. He’d tried to stop thinking about that nightmarish fight, as it felt like every decision he’d made was wrong. Finally, he just stammered, “I-I’m… sorry.”

Fale’s hand moved from his shoulder to the back of his neck. She squeezed and pulled him closer to her, until their foreheads touched. Lowering her voice, she said, “In Od, warriors don’t say sorry. Not for things like this.”

He nodded.

Voice dropping even more, so that only he could hear her, she said, “Let’s give these fuckers hell, alright? And when we kill all of them, we’ll go back out and find Bel. Give her a proper burial. Agreed?”

He took a breath. “Agreed.”

“Good mage.”

After that, he found he did feel a little bit better. Give them hell, he thought. Yeah.

The morning briefing wasn’t particularly enlightening. The strangest development was that not a single injury or death had been reported through the night. Apparently, no soldier or civilian had encountered an Abhorrent at all. It was a marked difference from the previous week, during which time incidents had occurred regularly.

Everyone seemed to agree that it meant something big was going to happen soon. There was a heated debate about the role of the mages. Ninsunu pressed for them to remain safely behind the walls. But, generally speaking, neither mages nor the military folk men were willing to sit around waiting, and when it came time to vote, the consensus was to take the initiative. And, as Aban Saddi said, to keep the people safe. Xerxes eyed the room carefully and voted with the majority.

Plans were made. Squads were formed, and they began to carefully investigate parts of the city where it seemed likely Abhorrent could be holed up. Every precaution was taken. Squads had whistles, flares, and the like, just in case they were suddenly attacked. No one was allowed to go into any situation alone.

Yet again, Gandash and Xerxes were separated. Xerxes was paired with Ninsunu, while Gandash joined Fale.

The primary goal was to track down every known member of the Eternal Father Cult.

Xerxes learned a few things from Ninsunu, who had previous experience hunting cultists. For instance, she told him that the high-ranking members often learned to speak the Abhorrent language, or bits of it. And how they believed the Eternal Father to be superior to the Pontifarch. As for who the Eternal Father was, Ninsunu had theories but not enough evidence to make a determination.

As the squads returned around the lunch hour, tension grew as squad after squad reported no cult activity. Residences and businesses that were known to be linked to the cult were abandoned. The mansion in Harborview had been torched in the night, causing the entire neighborhood to go up in a fiery blaze. The smoking ruins were still too hot to dig through. The warehouse with the tunnel had suffered a similar fate. Two other locations in the city had burned as well.

“Where the hell are they?” Shemesh asked.

“Maybe they fled,” said Colonel Nur-Ayya.

“Or got sacrificed,” added Ninsunu.

“Sacrificed?” muttered a soldier off to the side. He didn’t seem to be the only one shocked by the concept.

“Human sacrifice isn’t unknown in the Cult of the Eternal Father,” Ninsunu said. “For a variety of reasons. Now that their so-called gods are actually here, maybe they’re stepping up their efforts?”

“To what end?” asked Aban Saddi.

No one had an answer.

Where were the cultists? Where were the Abhorrent invaders? What was the point of the entire invasion?

Aban Saddi allowed for a very short break for lunch for everyone present.

That was when, at long last, Xerxes was able to reunite with his family for a meal.

“I missed you so much, Xerk,” his mom said. She was a classic Isninian beauty, which was one of the reasons why Ataneedusu had fallen in love with her overnight, when they were nothing but Harborview waifs. She was still young—she’d given birth to Xerxes when she was only seventeen years old—but life in the slums had been tough, and the years showed.

“I missed you too, Mom,” he said, wrapping his arms around her. Many of his friends shied away from their mothers, but not Xerxes. He didn’t care that he was sixteen and grown up. He loved hugging his mother, and he always would.

“Zokey!” his sister cried when she saw him, and she ran up and jumped into his arms. He swung her around. He loved his little sister, too, and was more than happy to give a black eye to anybody who mocked him for it, or who tried to cause problems for her. Not that she needed it. At eight years old, she was already more of a scrapper than he had been when he was ten.

Putting her back down, he knelt in front of her and said, “Ahassy, guess what?”

“What? What?”

“I got you something. Look.” He pulled out the driftwood dolphin.

“Oooh. It’s so pretty!” She took it, clasped it against her neck, and then hugged him again.

“Come on, kids, let’s eat,” Ataneedusu said.

Never before had Xerxes been so happy to enjoy a meal at home. Of course, his parents wanted to know all about his journey. He told them quite a bit, but most of it was about the journey to the castle. Not the return trip. He avoided mentioning Bel’s name, and when he noticed how his mother did the same, he realized his father must have explained things to her already.

The meal ended so quickly that he felt like his head was spinning.

As he and his father prepared to return to the council chamber, his mother put her arms around him again. “Stay strong, my son,” she said. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Mom.”

“Bye-bye Zokey,” his sister said.

He knelt and gave her one last hug. “I love you, Ahassy. Make sure to take care of Mom, okay?”

“Okay.”

The afternoon went similarly to the morning, with soldiers and mages alike prowling through the city trying to determine what exactly was happening. The results were the same.

Nothing.

No cultists.

No Abhorrent.

This wasn’t comforting to anyone. In fact, it caused tension to mount, slowly but surely. Everyone seemed to be on edge, gripping weapons and spell component pouches constantly, eyes shifting back and forth relentlessly, just waiting for a poisoned dart to fly out of a shadowed alley, or a monstrous Abhorrent to leap from a rooftop.