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Only the leader of the triad speaks for his men. In Bolden’s stubble, I see flecks of grey against the black. Just how old are these three aliens? I’d put them in their mid-to-late thirties, but Aurelians live so much longer than humans. They could have three or four centuries of war under their belts.

I bow my head down. “On behalf of all of us, thank you. Those things were about to kill us.”

They are silent. I slowly bring my head back up, unable to make eye contact with them, waiting for them to ask my name in return.

“Move!” barks out Krazak, loud and angry, his voice booming. There’s an “eep” from another servant who takes off at a near jog, rushing to catch up to them. I walk, letting my feet take me closer to Krazak as we go through the winding hallways. The three of them are fanned out in front of us, an immovable wall of stony flesh, their heads moving as they scan for any threats.

“Don’t you have medical bays? That goose egg of yours is going to swell up tonight,” I say, my voice cracking as I try another angle.

“Others have more need of them. Many of your kind are wounded,” grunts out Krazak, not stopping as he marches. We have to rush to keep up to their long-legged strides.

I blink in surprise.

I didn’t expect a Fanatic to let common humans into the med-bays before his species. “I know something that can help,” I attempt.

He doesn’t respond. Getting the three names out of him was a short-lived victory.

He’s silent as we’re marched through the gates into the courtyard. The air is thick and smoky, but a few rays of the sun shine through, rays I wasn’t sure I’d ever feel again. Macey coughs, doubling over as the harsh air fills her lungs, and I put my arm under her weight, helping her walk. The iron gates at the front of the estate are warped, the bars pushed apart by some inhuman strength.

Heavy bootsteps echo from the tower where Rachel took up arms. My heart pounds in fear—did she survive?

Rachel steps through the door at the bottom of the tower. I can’t help but smile, despite my terror, so grateful she is alive. She’s been changed by the battle. Her blonde curls are covered in dust, her white dress strained and clinging to her sweat-soaked body, but she’s fierce and resilient despite the horrors. Kat follows her out, moving quickly, when a huge Aurelian comes out from her behind her, the hilt of his Orb-Blade clutched tight in his hand. He’s a beast of a man, with a long, braided black beard woven through bone clasps. It swings as he walks. He’s got the same intensity as Krazak, Khra and Bolden, a pure warrior.

His black robe is opened to show his brand twice filled in, twin black half-circles marking him as the leader of the Fanatics. He is the General who ordered this rescue mission—but his forehead is bare, without the second, smaller brand marking him as a true believer. That alone makes him more human than the triad who saved us.

Krazak barks something out from behind me, making me stiffen at the cold, hard tones of the Aurelian language. I turn, and he points towards Brianna’s garden.

The grounds are littered with corpses of Scorp who stormed over the wall. They have huge, rent holes in their carapaces, a few of them still twitching occasionally, their venomous tails leaking and their armored bodies gleaming dully in the hazy air. They range from five feet tall to huge behemoths over ten feet high, but now they lie, broken and destroyed on the packed earth. Bolden drives his Orb-Blade through the chest of one that is still twitching and deactivates his blade in the same movement, as practiced as if he is swatting a fly.

We walk slowly through the battlefield, terrified one of the fallen monsters will get a second life.

I get a surge of pride for Rachel, Summer and Kat, who fought back, keeping their nerve even as the Scorp charged over the walls. Their gunshots may have attracted more of the horde towards us, but they still showed their nerve.

There’s a thud to the left and I look to Paulus’ tower, with the best views of the rolling hills where Paulus made me serve him coffee while he worked in his study, as the door thuds open. Krazak tenses and turns, ready to fight, when Summer walks through the door with her rifle in hand. She’s got a hardness to her, her near-black eyes dark and intelligent as they flit through the grounds and the garden.

She’s not scared. She’s looking for more Scorp to kill, and none of the Aurelians tell her to give up her rifle.

Some part of me wishes I’d gone up into the tower, doing something instead of hiding, but I made the only choice I could.

Did I?

I knew I couldn’t convince them to come down to the cellars. I knew the three of them would attract Scorp, whether I was in the cellar or a tower—and my best play would have been to try to shoot as many as I could. Was I just too scared to take up a weapon?

My temple throbs with thought. The only thing I know for certain is that it doesn’t matter now.

Summer doesn’t hesitate. She strides past the milling servants, straight through the wooden gate to the gardens. It used to be a finely painted white gate with a single key only Brianna had, and I had to slip over it like a cat on full moons, exulting in the feeling that none of the guards could ever notice me. It was my private escape.

Now the gates are shattered. “Come on,” I say, softly, to urge on the rest of the servants, as I lead them through the gardens. There’s a moment of hesitation from Macey.

Then she snorts. “Imagine what Brianna would say,” she whispers, her voice so low I can barely hear, and I smile back at her, glad she’s feeling better.

Two Aurelians wait in the garden under the maple tree flush with red leaves. From the twin brands on their chests, I know they complete the triad of the alien who followed Rachel and Kat down from their tower. They look to be in their late thirties or early forties, around the same age as Krazak and his triad.

One of them is beautiful. There’s no other way to put it. He’s pretty as a girl, with thick blond hair and refined features, long lashes that would be the envy of any harem wench, and clever eyes. The other is hard and authoritarian, standing straight-backed, his hair cut in a short, military style, flecked with grey.

The big bearded brute stomps past us, putting his foot up on the little white bench Brianna used to take her tea on. His boot covers the width of the bench.

Krazak, Khra and Bolden enter the garden after us, standing to the side of the other triad. The brand on their foreheads makes them look so foreign and alien even compared to the other three, the opposite of noble Aurelian Empire triads who fight with honor. Their obsidian robes are an affront to my eyes. Aurelians are supposed to fight like dancers, their blades singing out and their pure white robes flowing in the wind. These three fight like animals. I watched Bolden tackle a Scorp to the ground and wrestle it in front of my eyes, their bodies wrapped together in the dust of the cellar.