Radeon woke in a sitting curl, morning sunshine beaming warmth on his lashes.
Outside, soft rushed steps beat the mud as the ones in charge hurried past, faces flushed without a skin of wine to blame.
Spirit arrays hummed through the camp, each pattern with its own note in his ear, one tuned to carry men and another to fling them far.
"Fay. Up. Boat's boarding."
"So soon?"
Fay, buried under Froy's drab, reached up to straighten his borrowed mask of a man without being asked, then dug out rations and pressed a strip of dried meat into Radeon's hand.
The meal was gone in a few bites. Grease was still on their tongues when a distant voice, sharp and carrying, cut through the murmur, meant for those bound to heed.
"All logistics and non-combat hands to the spirit boat, now! Before I start throwing you aboard myself!"
Radeon and Fay ran as fast as their tired legs allowed. Board early and you drew fewer eyes.
For now the guards still moved loose at the joints, their minds drifting on talk of enlightenment and sweet immersion in cultivation.
As their boots met the gangway a sword slid out to bar their way, steel kissing the wood at their toes.
"Papers. Now."
Radeon halted and Fay bumped his shoulder. Out of habit, he lifted their bronze token instead, letting the sunlight catch on the sect mark.
The guard squinted, sweat bright on his brow. His mouth curled. He knocked the token aside with the flat of his blade and shoved Radeon back a step.
"Did I ask for trinkets? I said papers. Are you deaf as well as slow?"
"My mistake, sir."
Radeon found the thin leather folder inside his robe as Fay collected their dirtied tokens. He drew it out slowly, as if a quick move might snap the last thread of their fortune.
The proclamation lay within. Stiff and clean. The elder's hand neat as tiny blades. Radeon held it open with both hands, their whole road balanced on that sheet.
"Here, officer."
The guard had never seen script like it. The ink prickled under his thumb, a line of black ants. Each stroke seemed to breathe, quiet and sure, with a power that was not his.
"Next time you shove this under my nose first. You don't leave me stewing in this damned morning heat while you fumble."
He slapped the leather folder into Radeon's chest, harder than needed, and jerked his sword aside.
"Move along, then. Move. Next!"
The deck filled with quiet greetings and tired nods as folk found their places. The spirit boat's age showed in every muted creak. Old groans lay under fresh pitch and hasty repairs that only pretended to be care.
Radeon let his gaze roam over the spirit boat's galleon bulk. A leather-bound book slipped from Fay's sleeve and slapped the planks. His hand darted down before anyone else saw.
He flipped it open. Names and faces stared back at him in tight script. Beside each sketch Fay had marked what set them apart.
Weapons and tools they favored. Trinkets that begged to be noticed. How heavy the purse was likely to hang.
A ledger of people, weighed like goods. What might be taken or traded.
"Froy, this is solid work. Is this what you've been doing all this time?"
"I thought it might be useful to know who we shouldn't offend, and who we might be able to trade with."
"You planning to keep this up? Doesn't it bother you?"
"Not at all. If I ever do become an immortal, it can remind me of them and my journey."
"I see you in a new light now."
Radeon liked the plain hunger in her words, honest in a way oaths never were.
He flipped through every page and drank in every line of ink as they claimed a bare stretch of deck. Those with positions and important posts vanished into the forecastle and its carved little cabins.
The captain did not wait for anyone to grow comfortable. The deck shuddered as the spirit boat heaved out of its pit in the torn earth.
Radeon pressed his palms flat on the pages until the wind stopped clawing at them. He closed the book and rose. From the rail he studied the land sliding by below.
Roads. Gullies. Any path that might profit them once steel began to sing.
The spirit boat climbed higher into the gloom. Clouds closed around them and smothered the view. A gray wall where sky and earth should have met.
Mist beaded on his face as they flew, slicking his brows and collar, cold as old sweat. He didn't let it blunt his watchfulness, his fingers brushed the knife hidden under his cloak.
With his other hand he found Fay's and held it, careful not to smear the paint on her skin.
"I think I'm going to be sick."
"Not now, Froy. Hold it together."
Radeon caught her chin, then struck his palm against the center of her chest. Qi gathered in his fingers, a sharp little river, and snapped through both her shoulders.
"Better?"
"A little. Thank you," she murmured.
Not even an hour had passed when lightning forked through the clouds ahead. The already sour weather turned mean in a heartbeat. For a breath, the world went white, and something vast rolled its shadow through the glare above them.
Radeon worked a small glass vial from his inner pocket as the sky broke open. Rain clinked against the glass and needled the back of his neck.
"Vitality pills," he said. "Hard to brew, harder to find. Puts strength back when you're empty. If you walk away..."
"I won't! I don't need it," she said, eyes prickling with tears.
Fay's fingers tightened on the hem of her robe. Her eyes dropped to the deck. Her face went pale as fresh canvas. She was still green, yes, but she was no dull mule.
"Fay. Listen close. I'll be on a battlefield," Radeon said.
He shoved the pack of supplies she had prepared for him back toward her. He tapped the flat of his chest.
"Best bag for me is right here. Shallow pockets. Quick hands."
"You don't even fight the way they do. How will you survive down there?"
"Worry about yourself," he said. His voice came out harsher than he meant. "When I give the signal, you run. You stop for nothing."
Radeon saw it in her eyes. Fear, yes, but hitched to habit. She tracked each flash and the sway of the deck and the distance to the rail, a mind already laying paths.
The steadiness of that work calmed him. Radeon rolled his shoulders and faced forward.
He reached for the coil of power inside him. The world tightened at the edges of his sight. Color drained until only blacks and grays remained. In less than a breath his gaze slipped beyond the mist.
A jag of stone came into focus. A black peak against the churn of cloud. Around it ran threads of misfortune, dark as old bruises with red like deep blood in their seams, and above it all loomed a towering knot of gold fortune, bright and heavy, waiting for the bold.
Pain stabbed behind his eyes. He hissed and pulled back into himself. Before the ache could swell he dug out a pill and swallowed it dry.
'Just a few more ranges. I need to move.'
"Stay right here."
"Radeon, where are you going?"
"I'm going to make some trouble."