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“Several teams are being put together to follow the Guards, now returned from the south,” Governor Ravin said as if not believing we were there.

“For the first time in known history, the Guardians will work as one to defeat the Ikhor. As the Aspis and Guards have been unable to finish it on their own, we will send our best. The Ikhor is now across the borders, in the Aethar wastelands, building its army.”

I exchanged a look with Kaz. The Ikhor was with a single Aethar who couldn’t fight.

“We will send units overseas to infiltrate this gathering horde and bring the Ikhor down,” Governor Ravin continued, facing the Guards and addressing us.

“The Aethar are vile creatures. Dangerous. Any you meet must be dealt with swiftly. They can disguise themselves and trick you into thinking they aren’t vicious.

We don’t know what the Ikhor has done since it woke, what magic it has used to sway so many to its side.

Some may still look like us before shedding their legacy to their cause. Do not hesitate to kill.”

So this was it. We were heading into enemy lands. It wasn’t the first time the Council had sent teams over. We’d learned this from the information in Falizha’s journals.

The Governor admitted they knew some would look like us—did that mean what the blue woman claimed was true? Were there cities full of citizens, just like Veydes, across the border?

“Before we adjourn for a celebratory dinner, my son has a special demonstration for the Guardians here today.”

I exchanged a wary glance with the others, and Bastane’s jaw tensed as Aeden stepped to his father’s side with a warrior’s grace. He folded his hands behind his back as his father continued to address the crowd. “You will be first to witness the hard work my son has been doing these long years.”

Several Guardians dragged someone out of the Palace with a woven sack tied over their head. Muffled shouts came from the person as they struggled and kicked out, their arms tied behind them.

“What do they have planned?” Kazhi whispered.

The crowd below the stairs quieted, and the sun beat down on us as we waited for the prisoner to be shoved to their knees on the edge of the high platform.

The person, their black clothing ripped and bloodied, was on display for the entire crowd below. They squirmed against their ties. Muffled curses came from the hood, where they fought with the Guardians holding them down.

Aeden nodded to a Guardian who had a long weapon slung over his back, and the Guardian brought the weapon over to him.

The thing was made of fabricated metal, not Ancient Ore.

It had complicated parts, though it was obvious where the weapon was meant to be held.

Aeden tested its weight and then placed the weapon against his shoulder.

The device I stole from the blue one sat heavy in my vest pocket. Aeden had access to these strange metals, the ones so unlike the Ancient Ore used for our weapons and airships.

“This device was invented by our most prized alchemists. They have altered magycris to be used not for healing but as a conduit for power. In this device is a small projectile, like the cannons we use on our airships. Its small size may not seem as threatening, but powered by the magycris, it can shoot at undetectable speeds. The small missile can pierce armour, and when it passes through the body of an enemy, the magycris becomes harmful to the system.”

The prisoner inside the hood squirmed harder, his shouting muffled. Most likely by a gag hidden under the fabric.

“I have a bad feeling about this.” Bastane lowered his chin, keeping track of Aeden’s every move.

“This is a power play,” I said. “Not only for us, but for the crowd. The Council usually doesn’t show their cards.”

I had marched into the city, thinking the Guards finally had the upper hand. That we were a step ahead of the Council, but something in my gut told me I was wrong.

“This could mean they finally believe we are on their side,” Kazhi added, “Or they no longer believe we are a threat and don’t care what we witness.”

The crowd below went silent as the Governor and Falizha backed away and came to stand close to my side. Falizha gave me a mocking smile, proud she was a part of this show. “If only the Ikhor were here to see its worshippers fall,” Falizha said in a low voice.

Aeden tucked the weapon closer to his shoulder.

“The Aethar have harmed our people. They have burned our homes. They aided the Ikhor in burning South Aspis to the ground, along with many of our Veteran Guardians—some of whom were previous Guards. The Council promises to avenge our fallen brothers. Starting today.”

Aeden nodded to the captors, and the prisoner’s hood was removed, revealing an Aethar, causing the crowd to gasp.

“What is this?” Kazhi demanded, taking a step forward.

I recognized him, though I only saw glimpses of the man. I had seen his image on the posters throughout Veydes. I had been feet away from his sister, who had nearly identical features.

“That’s one of the Aethar Liv—” Bastane coughed. “He was leading the Ikhor away from Veydes.”

“The pilot we shot down,” I agreed. “How did he get here?”

“Falizha,” Kazhi whispered, full of menace. “She went back to her fallen airship. I thought pirates had taken him when they raided the wreckage.”

The Aethar’s face was torn up—one eye swollen shut, his lip split open, and his nose bent. But there was no mistaking the white hair, his blue skin, and the dark patterns down his bruised neck. Skin was missing along his cheek, along with patches of hair from a bloodied scalp.

“He’s been tortured,” I whispered.

The man turned to the crowd, shouting through a bloody gag. He was missing part of his ear, and blood stained his clothes from head to toe. Although he must have been in pain, he showed no signs of injury when he tried to stand and run.

The Guardians above him shoved his shoulders, slamming him back down onto his knees. The crowd below remained silent. They were seeing a beaten man, not a scarred-up Aethar.

“The Aethar have learned to forgo their scars, to blend in with us,” Aeden explained to the silent crowd.

“He looks like one of us,” said a woman from below.

Falizha stepped away from her father and addressed the crowd. She held up a poster—an image of Liv and her two companions—one of the many pinned around the Guardian city. “You’ve all seen this man before. He was personally responsible for taking the Ikhor to South Aspis.”

I couldn’t help myself. I looked back to the Aethar, and his wide eyes were on me. I had to give it to the man. A sea of his enemies surrounded him, but he showed not an ounce of fear. He was not begging. He was demanding.

He yelled something indistinguishable through his gag at me as his brow creased in anger. The words sounded a lot like They’re liars. Help … Liv …

A sharp and quick bang silenced him.

I jumped, having not expected the sound.

Aeden lowered the weapon in his hand.

Several moments passed before the Aethar’s eyes rolled. Pain twisted his face as he tried one more muffled plea at me, and I thought I heard him mention Liv again. Then his head fell forward, and he collapsed.

“I wouldn’t touch it, Nuo,” Falizha said from somewhere behind me. “Who knows what they catch in the wastelands.”

The Guardians holding him let go, and he dropped to the ground with a thud, blood pooling under his unmoving body, the sun reflecting off the dark liquid.

I hadn’t even tracked how he had died. What was this weapon Aeden held?

A hand on my arm yanked me back, and I turned to find Kazhi, bright eyed and furious, pulling me back to stand next to her.

“Kazhi, what’s happening,” I said stupidly.

Why did it feel like I just witnessed a murder? I’d killed many of their kind.

“It’s nothing like I’d ever seen,” Bastane said in a low voice. “Look at the wound in his back. It went right through his body.”

“Liv will be devastated,” Kazhi said. She had gone still. So very still. “Now more than ever, we must find ways to bring them down.”

I scanned the people below, finding the horrified faces of several of the women who had come to our aid.

The Council crimes were leaking out in the open—pouring, not trickling.

The sun continued to shine down on the crowd of silent Guardians. Why did I feel like I was stuck in a torrential storm? This didn’t sit right with me. Why did I react to my enemy’s death with remorse?

Perhaps because the man on the ground had been keeping Liv alive when that was the task that Brekt had left for me.

I caught Falizha grinning, turning her sneer toward the Guards as if she was thinking of using the weapon on us. Little did she know, the crowd she thought she was impressing would soon be turning against her.

The Guardians below had remained silent, waiting for the Aethar to rise, and the Ravins seemed to be waiting for a reaction from the Guards. So many faces turned in our direction, and as always, the Guards were a symbol. If we showed remorse for the Aethar, we may never get the people on our side.

I felt sick as I slid my mask back on and winked at Falizha, trying to ease any suspicion the Aethar’s death affected the Guards.

“We are still the best looking Kaz,” I said half-heartedly for those in earshot.

“I count that as a win. Aeden’s neck looks like he’s caught something from one of the snake ladies. ”

Bas sent me a dry look. “This is serious.”

“Don’t bother, Bas,” Kazhi cut in, then she whispered, “Keep it up, Nuo. They are playing a game, but so are we.”

I thought Falizha was waiting for a reaction, but when her arrogant grin didn’t fade, I wondered what else she was waiting for.

That’s when Aeden addressed the silent crowd.

“We have been able to duplicate this weapon enough times that we have a full arsenal. Every Guardian called forward is to join our mission to the Aethar lands.”

Another Guardian stepped to Aeden’s side, holding a list of names.

Aeden stood tall as he held up his weapon. “And each of you will be armed with your very own Deathmaker.”