Life moved forward.
It always did.
The Solmere Festival was barely a week away.
And apparently—
Everyone on the continent had decided to attend.
Solmere had changed.
Not long ago, it had been a struggling town.
Important to the people who lived there.
Mostly irrelevant to everyone else.
That was no longer true.
Solmere had become the center of the United Kingdoms.
Not politically.
Not officially.
Logistically.
Portals shimmered throughout the Portal District almost constantly.
Travelers arrived from Kensington.
Others departed for Crystalmire.
Elven merchants stepped through carrying enchanted goods.
Rabbitkin farmers arrived with wagons full of produce.
Canine traders brought hides, tools, spices, and crafts from territories that had once required weeks of travel to reach.
And if someone wanted to travel from one allied nation to another—
They came through Solmere.
For a modest toll, a journey that once took weeks could be completed in hours.
No bandits.
No monsters.
No muddy roads.
No sleeping beneath a wagon while hoping nothing decided you looked edible.
The portals had changed everything.
And now—
The festival was testing exactly how much everything had changed.
The normal flow of merchants and travelers hadn't stopped.
Festival traffic had simply been added on top of it.
Inns were filling.
Then filled.
Homes began renting spare rooms.
Neighboring villages started taking overflow.
Restaurants ordered more food.
Then ordered more again.
Temporary vendor stalls appeared throughout the city.
Musicians practiced in parks.
Performers competed for the best locations.
Farmers discovered that almost anything edible could be sold if enough hungry travelers were nearby.
And the U.K. Chronicle wasn't helping.
Jax stared at the newspaper in his hand.
TOP FIVE THINGS TO SEE IN SOLMERE
Below that—
TEN FESTIVAL EVENTS YOU CANNOT MISS
And beneath that—
WHY THIS YEAR'S SOLMERE FESTIVAL MAY BE THE LARGEST YET
Jax frowned.
"May?"
Lexi didn't look up from the stack of papers in front of her.
"They're being responsible."
"They should try harder."
Lexi looked at him.
Jax folded the paper.
"Just saying."
The Solmere Town Council had requested assistance organizing the festival.
Jax had agreed immediately.
Then he'd made what he considered a very intelligent decision.
"Lexi."
That had been yesterday.
The council was beginning to regret asking.
"Current attendance estimate?"
One council member shifted in his chair.
"Approximately twenty thousand visitors."
Lexi looked down at the report.
"That was yesterday's estimate."
"Yes."
"What is today's?"
Silence.
Lexi looked up.
The council member swallowed.
"We don't have today's yet."
"Then we don't have an attendance estimate."
Jax leaned against the wall.
He was enjoying this considerably more than he should.
Lexi turned another page.
"Available lodging?"
"We've contacted every inn."
"That wasn't my question."
The man blinked.
Lexi continued.
"How many beds?"
"We're compiling—"
"How many private residences have registered rooms?"
"We haven't—"
"How many neighboring communities are accepting overflow?"
Someone else started writing.
"How much temporary housing can be constructed before the festival?"
More writing.
"Where will travelers sleep if portal traffic exceeds available lodging?"
Silence.
Lexi turned another page.
"How much potable water can Solmere provide per day?"
Nobody answered.
"How much food?"
Nothing.
"Waste removal?"
More silence.
"Medical stations?"
One councilwoman raised a hand.
"We have healers."
"How many?"
Her hand slowly lowered.
Lexi nodded.
"Fire response?"
"We have the town watch."
"That wasn't my question."
Jax covered his mouth.
Lexi's eyes shifted toward him.
"Something funny?"
"Nope."
She stared at him.
Jax straightened.
"Very serious meeting."
Lexi returned to the council.
"Portal throughput?"
The Portal District representative finally looked confident.
"We can handle the expected volume."
"What happens if one portal fails?"
The confidence disappeared.
"What happens if two fail?"
Someone sighed.
"What happens if five hundred people arrive from Kensington while eight hundred are waiting to depart for Crystalmire?"
The representative stared at her.
Lexi waited.
He started writing.
"Cargo storage?"
More writing.
"Emergency evacuation routes?"
Writing.
"Street congestion?"
Writing.
"Sanitation?"
Writing.
"Wastewater?"
Writing.
"Backup food reserves?"
Writing.
"Backup water reserves?"
Writing.
"Backup plans for the backup plans?"
The scratching stopped.
One councilman slowly looked up.
"Do we need those?"
Lexi stared at him.
He resumed writing.
The door opened.
Pixelle flew inside.
Three inches tall.
Bright pink hair.
Tiny wings fluttering rapidly behind her.
She landed on the table directly in front of Lexi.
"What about decorations?"
Lexi blinked.
"Not currently operationally relevant."
Pixelle stared at her.
Jax quietly stepped away from the wall.
This could become dangerous.
"Take that back."
Lexi sighed.
"Pixelle—"
"People need colors."
"People need sanitation."
"They can have both."
"We are discussing emergency infrastructure."
"And I'm discussing ribbons."
"Ribbons are not emergency infrastructure."
Pixelle gasped.
Jax looked toward the door.
Too far.
Pixelle turned toward him.
"Jax."
"No."
"You don't even know what I was going to ask."
"You looked at me."
"Because you're reasonable."
Lexi snorted.
Jax pointed at her.
"Don't encourage this."
Pixelle planted her hands on her hips.
"We need banners."
"Fine."
"Flowers."
"Fine."
"Lanterns."
"Fine."
"Music."
"Obviously."
"Games."
"Sure."
"Dancing."
"Yes."
"Fireworks."
Jax paused.
Lexi looked up.
"What are fireworks?"
Pixelle's eyes narrowed.
Jax immediately regretted pausing.
"No."
"You know what they are."
"We can discuss it later."
Pixelle smiled triumphantly.
"That means yes."
"That absolutely does not mean yes."
She was already airborne.
"I'll start planning!"
"Pixelle!"
She disappeared through the doorway.
Jax watched her go.
Lexi slowly turned toward him.
"Fireworks?"
"I said later."
"You created another problem."
"I create solutions."
"You create problems that require solutions."
"That's basically the same thing."
"It isn't."
By the end of the meeting, responsibilities had been divided.
Lexi would handle everything necessary to keep tens of thousands of people fed, housed, safe, clean, and moving.
Pixelle would handle—
According to Pixelle—
Everything important.
And Lexi immediately discovered that everything necessary was considerably more complicated than everything important.
Especially housing.
Later that afternoon, she stood over a table covered in maps.
Solmere occupied the center.
Lines radiated outward toward towns and cities throughout the United Kingdoms.
Some had portals.
Some didn't.
Some had inns.
Some had hotels.
Some had both.
Jax stood across from her.
Several members of the Town Council stood nearby.
One large Beastkin representative from the Portal District had made the unfortunate mistake of standing closest to Lexi.
"How long from Kensington?"
He blinked.
"What?"
Lexi pointed at the map.
"Portal transit. Kensington to Solmere. Including current lines."
"Approximately twenty-five minutes."
"Crystalmire?"
"Twenty."
"Rivenglade?"
"Perhaps thirty."
"Why perhaps?"
The Beastkin shifted.
"Traffic varies."
"Then what is the maximum?"
"I don't—"
Lexi looked up at him.
He stopped.
There was something uniquely strange about being interrogated by a woman three inches tall.
Especially when he was large enough to put her beneath a drinking glass.
The thought crossed his mind.
Briefly.
He would never dare.
Lexi turned another page.
"Maximum?"
The Beastkin swallowed.
"Forty minutes during peak traffic."
"Too long."
He relaxed slightly.
Then Lexi continued.
"Why are arrivals and departures using the same entrance?"
His relaxation ended.
"Because that's where the portal is."
"I know where the portal is."
The Beastkin glanced toward Jax.
Jax immediately looked away.
He was not getting involved.
Lexi pointed toward a diagram.
"People entering Solmere are colliding with people waiting to leave Solmere."
"Not literally."
Lexi stared at him.
"Sometimes literally."
"Yes."
"So stop doing that."
The Beastkin frowned.
"How?"
Lexi slid the diagram toward him.
"One direction in. One direction out."
He studied it.
Then looked closer.
Lexi had separated each portal's staging area into two channels.
Travelers entering Solmere would be moved immediately away from the portal.
Travelers departing would queue along the opposite side.
Cargo had its own staging area.
No crossing traffic.
No crowds standing directly in front of arriving travelers.
No wagons trying to move through lines of pedestrians.
In one door.
Out the other.
The Beastkin stared at the diagram.
"That could work."
Lexi's eyebrow rose.
He corrected himself.
"That will work."
"Good."
She pointed toward the map again.
"Implement it at every portal."
"Today?"
Lexi stared at him.
The Beastkin sighed.
"Today."
He walked away considerably faster than he'd arrived.
Jax watched him leave.
"I think he likes you."
"He'll like me more when nobody gets trampled."
"That's fair."
Lexi looked back at the map.
Then stopped.
Her eyes moved from Solmere to Kensington.
Then Crystalmire.
Then Rivenglade.
Then several other cities.
Jax recognized the expression.
"What?"
Lexi didn't answer.
Instead—
"How many hotels do we have access to?"
Jax frowned.
"Define access."
Lexi slowly looked at him.
"How many do you own?"
"Oh."
Jax thought about it.
Then thought about it considerably longer.
"A lot?"
Lexi closed her eyes.
Of course he did.
"How many?"
"I'd have to ask Pophov."
"You don't know how many hotels you own?"
"I don't personally run them."
"That wasn't my question."
Jax smiled.
"Now you sound like you did during the meeting."
Lexi didn't smile.
Jax cleared his throat.
"I'll ask Pophov."
She looked back at the map.
Then smiled.
It wasn't a particularly comforting smile.
Jax leaned closer.
"What?"
"We don't have a housing problem."
"We don't?"
"No."
Lexi pointed toward Kensington.
"We have a geography problem."
Jax stared at the map.
Then—
"Oh."
Exactly.
If someone could stay in a hotel in Kensington, walk to the portal, and arrive in Solmere twenty or thirty minutes later—
They didn't need to sleep in Solmere.
The same applied to Crystalmire.
Rivenglade.
And every other portal-connected city with available lodging.
The portals hadn't merely connected the United Kingdoms.
For the festival—
They had turned distant cities into neighborhoods.
By that afternoon, flyers appeared throughout Solmere.
At the gates.
At the Portal District.
At restaurants.
At inns already displaying NO VACANCY signs.
At information booths.
Even at Jax's businesses.
NO ROOMS IN SOLMERE?
STAY IN KENSINGTON, CRYSTALMIRE, RIVENGLADE, OR ANOTHER PORTAL CITY!
LESS THAN THIRTY MINUTES FROM THE FESTIVAL THROUGH THE PORTAL NETWORK!
And at the bottom—
FREE BREAKFAST WITH PARTICIPATING HOTEL STAYS.
Jax stared at one of the flyers.
"Free breakfast?"
Lexi nodded.
"People like free things."
"They do."
"And your hotels serve breakfast anyway."
"They do."
"So we're giving away something inexpensive to convince people to stay somewhere they hadn't considered."
Jax smiled.
Merchant Jax approved.
Then he learned the best part.
Most of the participating hotels belonged to him.
Merchant Jax approved considerably more.
Within two days, the housing problem almost disappeared.
Travelers who had been preparing to sleep in wagons discovered they could have an actual bed twenty minutes away.
Families relocated to nearby cities.
Merchants rented rooms outside Solmere and commuted through the portals each morning.
Performers did the same.
The newly streamlined portal lines kept the travel manageable.
In one direction.
Out the other.
No crossing traffic.
No chaos.
Mostly.
And the effects spread far beyond Solmere.
Cities with portals filled with visitors.
Then the towns surrounding those cities began filling.
Restaurants that hadn't expected festival traffic suddenly had lines out the doors.
Local shops sold more goods in a week than they normally sold in a month.
Carriage operators began running constant routes between nearby towns and portal cities.
Even communities without portals benefited as visitors spread outward looking for cheaper rooms.
The Solmere Festival was no longer bringing money only to Solmere.
It was bringing money to half the United Kingdoms.
Lexi considered the housing problem solved.
Jax considered his hotels profitable.
Pixelle considered both of them distracted enough that nobody noticed she'd ordered another four thousand ribbons.
Everyone won.
Mostly.
But there was another problem.
One considerably less amusing.
Lexi discovered it while reviewing merchant registrations.
Solmere had forbidden slavery long before the festival.
The Slave Guild was not welcome.
Buying and selling people was not tolerated.
But thousands of visitors were arriving from territories with different laws.
And some of them had become creative.
Lexi wasn't interested in creativity.
Not this kind.
By the following morning, new signs appeared at every gate, portal entrance, market district, and major road entering Solmere.
The wording was simple.
The meaning wasn't.
SLAVERY IS FORBIDDEN WITHIN SOLMERE.
NO PERSON MAY BE BOUGHT, SOLD, OWNED, LEASED, TRANSFERRED, OR HELD AS PROPERTY.
CONTRACTS REQUIRING INVOLUNTARY SERVICE THROUGH DEBT, FAMILY OBLIGATION, OWNERSHIP, OR THREAT OF PUNISHMENT WILL NOT BE RECOGNIZED.
ANY ENSLAVED PERSON ENTERING SOLMERE WILL BE RECOGNIZED AS FREE.
ATTEMPTS TO FORCIBLY RECLAIM, RESTRAIN, PUNISH, REMOVE, OR SELL THAT PERSON WILL RESULT IN DETENTION.
Clear.
Unmistakable.
And—
As Bruce Ironhorn quickly discovered—
Still apparently too complicated for some people.
Bruce stood seven feet, four inches tall.
Broad.
Massive.
A Minotaur.
Former adventurer.
Current head of Solmere's Enforcement Division.
And a man who had developed very little patience for people who believed changing the name of slavery somehow made it legal.
It took less than six hours for someone to test the new rules.
Bruce stood in the East Market District holding a contract.
He read it once.
Then again.
Mostly because he couldn't believe someone had actually written it down.
He looked at the merchant standing before him.
Then toward the young Rabbitkin woman several feet away.
Perhaps twenty.
Maybe younger.
Her clothes were clean.
Her eyes remained fixed on the ground.
Two other workers stood nearby.
Neither looked at Bruce.
Behind them sat a merchant carriage filled with goods.
Bruce lifted the contract.
"Let me make sure I understand this."
The merchant straightened.
"It is perfectly legal."
"Didn't ask that."
Bruce pointed toward the Rabbitkin woman.
"Her family farms your land."
"Correct."
"They failed to produce the required yield."
"Repeatedly."
Bruce glanced down.
"Potatoes?"
The merchant frowned.
"Among other crops."
"Mostly potatoes?"
"That is irrelevant."
Bruce nodded.
"Mostly potatoes."
He looked back at the contract.
"So because her family didn't grow enough potatoes, she owes you three years of labor."
"Her family owes a contractual debt."
"And you're collecting their daughter."
"I am collecting nothing. She is fulfilling the obligation her family voluntarily entered into."
Bruce looked at the young woman.
"Did you agree to this?"
The merchant answered immediately.
"Her father signed the contract."
Bruce didn't look at him.
"I wasn't talking to you."
The merchant froze.
Bruce kept his eyes on the woman.
"Did you agree to this?"
Her eyes flicked toward the merchant.
Bruce noticed.
So did the enforcement officers standing nearby.
The merchant opened his mouth.
Bruce slowly turned his head.
The merchant closed it.
Bruce looked back at the woman.
"Did you agree to this?"
Her voice barely carried.
"No."
Bruce nodded.
"All right."
The merchant stepped forward.
"You don't understand. The agreement was executed legally in my territory. Her father pledged three years of labor against the family's outstanding agricultural debt."
Bruce looked at the other two workers.
"You two under similar contracts?"
Neither answered.
The merchant did.
"Their circumstances are entirely different."
Bruce looked at him.
"I wasn't talking to you either."
The merchant stopped again.
Bruce returned his attention to the workers.
One nodded.
The other whispered—
"Yes."
Bruce folded the contract.
"Okay."
He looked toward his officers.
"Confiscate the contracts."
The merchant's eyes widened.
"Excuse me?"
"Take the carriage and inventory everything in it. Goods go to Enforcement Headquarters until we determine what belongs to who."
Two officers moved immediately.
The merchant stepped toward them.
"You cannot confiscate my property!"
Bruce moved one enormous arm between them.
The merchant stopped.
Bruce pointed toward the three women.
"Take them to the Darquebane Anti-Slavery Fund."
Then he pointed toward the merchant.
"You're coming with me."
The man's face reddened.
"On what charge?"
"Suspicion of violating Solmere's anti-slavery laws."
"Suspicion?"
"That's why you're going to jail instead of being convicted."
Bruce folded the contract and tucked it into his belt.
"Solmere citizens can decide the rest at your trial."
"You cannot do this."
Bruce looked at the badge attached to his chest.
Then back at the merchant.
"Pretty sure I can."
"You have no idea who I am."
Bruce waited.
The merchant straightened.
"My family has traded throughout the Human Kingdom for generations. I know nobles in Kensington. I have supplied merchants in Alexandria. I have personal relationships with three members of the Merchant Consortium."
Bruce listened.
"I know regional governors."
Bruce continued listening.
"I have dined with members of the old royal court."
Nothing.
The merchant stared up at him.
Bruce waited.
"Did you hear me?"
"Yep."
The merchant hesitated.
The first approach hadn't worked.
So he tried another.
"Perhaps we're approaching this incorrectly."
Bruce said nothing.
"I understand Solmere has its own customs."
Nothing.
"And perhaps I should have familiarized myself with them more thoroughly before arriving."
Bruce waited.
The merchant lowered his voice.
"I am a wealthy man."
Bruce's eyebrow moved slightly.
"I could compensate your division for the misunderstanding."
Nothing.
"Personally, if necessary."
Bruce stared at him.
"Five hundred gold."
Silence.
"One thousand."
Bruce didn't move.
The merchant swallowed.
"Two thousand."
Bruce continued staring.
The merchant's confidence began disappearing.
"Surely we can reach some sort of arrangement."
Bruce said nothing.
The merchant looked toward the officers unloading his carriage.
Then toward the women.
Then back at Bruce.
His voice changed.
"Please."
Bruce's expression didn't.
"I need those workers."
One of the officers stopped.
The merchant didn't notice.
"I have contracts I have to fulfill. Crops that need harvesting. Shipments already promised. If you take them, I'll lose everything."
Bruce's eyebrows rose.
The merchant continued.
"Please. Let me keep them. I'll leave Solmere immediately. You'll never see me again."
Silence.
Then the merchant heard himself.
Let me keep them.
His face changed.
Bruce still hadn't said a word.
He didn't have to.
The merchant's desperation became anger.
"You—"
Bruce waited.
"You oversized man-bull!"
One officer slowly turned.
The merchant pointed at Bruce.
"You're bad at your job!"
Bruce blinked.
Then smiled.
Finally.
"You seem to know a lot of important people."
The merchant's anger faltered.
Bruce reached over one shoulder.
"Guess who I know."
Leather creaked.
The enormous axe strapped across Bruce's back came free.
"I know Jax Darquebane."
The merchant went quiet.
"I know the Vixens."
Bruce rested the axe against one shoulder.
"And they told me that outside of themselves, I'm probably the strongest fighter in the United Kingdoms."
The merchant stared at the weapon.
Bruce smiled.
"So whether I'm good at my job or bad at my job..."
He released the axe.
CRACK.
The blade slammed into the stone street.
Two inches from the merchant's foot.
Stone split beneath it.
The merchant jumped backward.
Bruce looked down at him.
"I'm still the guy carrying an axe that weighs more than your entire body."
The merchant froze.
For several seconds—
Nobody moved.
Then one of the officers looked down.
Liquid ran down the merchant's trouser leg.
Bruce noticed.
His eyes slowly moved back to the man's face.
"Well."
He pulled the axe from the stone.
"You're definitely not sitting in my carriage now."
Bruce returned the axe to his back.
Then pointed down the street.
"You're walking to the station."
The merchant swallowed.
Bruce gestured.
"Move it."
He moved.
Quickly.
The women watched him go.
For the first time—
One of them smiled.
Bruce and the merchant made it less than two blocks before they passed Jax and the Vixens.
Jax noticed Bruce first.
Then the merchant.
Then the enormous wet stain covering the front of the merchant's trousers.
He looked at Bruce.
Bruce shook his head.
"Don't ask."
Nyxian looked between them.
Her eyes settled on the merchant.
"Slaver?"
Bruce continued walking.
"Allegedly."
Nyxian smiled.
"Should we strip him naked and let the Orcs handle business as usual?"
The merchant stopped.
Bruce shook his head.
"Nah."
The merchant's shoulders relaxed.
"They're still tired from the last slaver we found guilty."
The shoulders went rigid again.
Bruce continued walking.
"But they'll be rested by the time of his trial."
The merchant stared at him.
A new streak of liquid ran down his leg.
Bruce looked down.
Then up.
"He seems to be really pissed now."
He looked back at the merchant.
He pointed toward the Enforcement building.
"Keep moving."
The merchant moved.
Jax watched them disappear into the crowd.
Then looked at Nyxian.
"That was terrible."
Her face was perfectly innocent.
"I have no idea what you mean."
Bunny's ears twitched.
Llandra turned away to hide a smile.
Zee frowned.
"The Orcs don't actually—"
Llandra gently touched her arm.
Zee looked at her.
Llandra shook her head.
Zee paused.
"Oh."
Nyxian smiled.
Then Bunny noticed the three Rabbitkin women standing near the confiscated carriage.
Her smile disappeared.
The others followed her gaze.
One of the women was trembling.
Not badly.
But enough.
Jax's expression changed.
He walked toward her.
The Vixens followed.
The woman immediately lowered her eyes.
Jax stopped several feet away.
"Hey."
She looked up.
"What's your name?"
"Mira."
"Hi, Mira."
She hesitated.
"What happens to us now?"
Jax looked toward the other women.
Then back at her.
"Whatever you want."
Mira stared at him.
"I don't understand."
"That's okay."
Jax gestured toward Solmere.
"You can stay here."
Then toward the road.
"You can leave."
He pointed toward the market.
"If you want work, we'll help you find it."
He nodded toward Zee.
"If you need medical care, that's covered."
Zee smiled.
"All of it."
Jax continued.
"If you have family somewhere and want to get back to them, we'll help with that too."
Mira looked confused.
"And if we don't know?"
Bunny stepped closer.
"Then you don't have to know today."
Mira looked at her.
Bunny's voice softened.
"The Darquebane Anti-Slavery Fund has temporary housing. Food. Clothes. Whatever you need while you figure it out."
Nyxian nodded.
"And some money to get started."
Mira frowned.
"Money?"
"Yours," Jax said.
"How much do we owe?"
Jax blinked.
"I don't understand the question."
She stared at him.
"You said there's housing."
"Yep."
"And food."
"Yep."
"And money."
"A little."
"What do we owe?"
"Nothing."
Mira's eyes narrowed as though searching for the trick.
"There must be something."
Jax shook his head.
"No."
"Then why?"
Jax considered the question.
"Because being free doesn't help much if you're starving."
Mira said nothing.
Jax shrugged.
"And because starting over is expensive."
Nyxian nodded solemnly.
"Very."
Jax glanced at her.
She shrugged.
He looked back at Mira.
"So we help."
"For how long?"
"Until you don't need it."
"And then?"
Jax smiled.
"Then you live your life."
Something changed in her expression.
Small.
Barely visible.
But there.
Possibility.
One of the other women spoke.
"I know how to make shoes."
Bunny's ears rose.
"Really?"
The woman nodded cautiously.
"My mother taught me."
Bunny smiled.
"I know some people."
Jax looked at her.
Bunny shrugged.
"What? We do."
They did.
That was Solmere.
Freedom didn't solve everything.
Jax knew that.
The Slave Guild still existed.
Slavery still existed beyond Solmere.
Even here, problems remained.
A merchant could enter Solmere without slaves while selling goods produced by enslaved workers somewhere else.
Cloth.
Ore.
Food.
Jewelry.
Weapons.
Spices.
The supply chain didn't become clean simply because the final transaction happened in Solmere.
Not yet.
Known Slave Guild connections were being documented.
Businesses were being watched.
Suppliers mapped.
Financial relationships traced.
But association wasn't a crime.
Jax wasn't interested in arresting someone because they once traded with someone who traded with someone connected to the Slave Guild.
Evidence mattered.
Actions mattered.
So they watched.
Learned.
And kept tightening the rules.
There was still a lot to fix.
But today—
Three people walked into Solmere belonging to someone else.
And three people would leave that market belonging only to themselves.
Jax could live with that.
For today.
The festival preparations continued.
Every day brought more people.
More stalls.
More food.
More music.
And considerably more ribbons.
Pixelle had apparently discovered that Lexi couldn't remove decorations faster than several hundred Fairies could install them.
Lexi considered this a logistical problem.
Pixelle considered it victory.
Banners stretched across streets.
Flowers appeared around fountains.
Lanterns hung from buildings.
Temporary stages rose throughout the city.
Musicians practiced.
Performers rehearsed.
Restaurants expanded outdoor seating.
Merchants discovered an entirely new economy based around selling poorly made versions of things associated with Jax and the Vixens.
Wooden bows became Starpiercer.
Large wooden hammers became World Breaker.
Decorated sticks became Sanctaris.
And anything even remotely resembling a whip—
Became Lilith's Kiss.
Nyxian bought three.
She already owned the real one.
That wasn't the point.
Jax's businesses were doing extremely well.
The hotels were full.
The restaurants were full.
The shops were full.
Some of his businesses in cities nowhere near Solmere were suddenly doing record business because they happened to be near a portal.
Merchant Jax approved.
Soren Nightclaw approved considerably less.
He stood beside Jax near the edge of the Portal District.
Another portal shimmered.
Dozens of travelers emerged.
Families.
Merchants.
Performers.
A group of Elves.
Several Rabbitkin.
Humans.
Two Dwarves arguing about luggage.
A Fairy sitting on someone's shoulder.
The new traffic system immediately pushed the arriving group away from the portal.
On the opposite side, departing travelers moved forward.
In one direction.
Out the other.
No collision.
No confusion.
Lexi's system worked.
Jax watched the travelers disperse into Solmere.
"How many today?"
"Several thousand."
"And we're still a week out."
"Yes."
Jax looked toward Soren.
"You don't sound excited."
"I'm responsible for knowing who wants to kill people."
"Fair."
Another portal activated.
More travelers.
Soren watched them.
"We're checking known names. Known Imperial agents. Known Slave Guild associates. Known criminal organizations."
"But?"
Soren glanced at him.
"There are tens of thousands of people coming into Solmere."
Jax looked back toward the crowd.
"So somewhere in all that..."
"Almost certainly."
"Imperial?"
"Possibly."
"Slave Guild?"
"Possibly."
"Someone else?"
"Probably."
Jax sighed.
"That's comforting."
"It wasn't intended to be."
"Do we know who?"
"If I knew who, we wouldn't be having this conversation."
Jax nodded.
"Good point."
Soren's gaze moved across the Portal District.
"Solmere is no longer merely your home."
Jax looked at him.
"It's the center of the portal network."
"Exactly."
Soren nodded toward the portals.
"Someone watching Solmere can learn who travels between allied nations. What goods move. How quickly soldiers could move. Which kingdoms trade most frequently. When diplomats arrive. How security responds."
Jax's expression became more serious.
"So we watch the watchers."
Soren smiled slightly.
"Now you're learning."
"I've already got Shadows throughout the city."
Soren looked at him.
Jax continued.
"Some are inside buildings belonging to people I already suspected were up to no good."
"How many?"
Jax shrugged.
"Enough."
Soren stared at him for a moment.
"I'm beginning to understand why you don't seem particularly concerned."
"I'm concerned."
Jax looked across the crowded Portal District.
"I'm just cheating."
Soren smiled.
"My favorite kind of intelligence gathering."
"If you have anyone specific you want watched, tell me. I'll let Warden know."
Soren's smile disappeared.
"Warden coordinates them?"
"Yep."
A pause.
"I'm so glad you are on our side."
Jax smiled.
People laughed around them.
Children ran between adults.
A merchant shouted about discounted festival ribbons.
Somewhere nearby Pixelle yelled something about those ribbons being the wrong shade.
Soren looked toward the sound.
Jax followed his gaze.
"She's your problem now."
Soren stared at him.
"How?"
"I don't know. I'm delegating."
"You can't delegate your Fairy to Intelligence."
"I just did."
Pixelle flew above the crowd.
"THOSE ARE MAGENTA!"
Soren sighed.
"They look pink."
Jax looked at him.
"Never say that where she can hear you."
Soren considered that.
"Good intelligence."
"See? You're learning."
The city kept growing.
The festival drew closer.
And somewhere among the thousands pouring into Solmere—
There were undoubtedly people who hadn't come to celebrate.
Imperial agents.
Slave Guild operatives.
Criminals.
Spies.
Maybe something they hadn't considered yet.
But they weren't the only ones watching.
Not anymore.
Later that afternoon, Bunny walked through the market with Jax.
They weren't doing anything important.
That was the point.
For the first time in days, nobody needed Jax in a War Room.
Nobody was reporting casualty estimates.
Nobody was screaming through a Tele-Stone.
Nobody was burning.
There was music.
Hammering.
Laughter.
Merchants shouted prices.
Children begged parents for sweets.
Somewhere ahead—
Pixelle yelled about ribbons.
Somewhere behind—
Lexi yelled something about ribbons not being an emergency.
Bunny smiled.
Then stopped.
Jax took another step before realizing she wasn't beside him.
He turned.
"Bunny?"
She wasn't looking at him.
Four children played near a fountain.
One held a wooden bow.
Another carried a decorated stick.
The third swung a piece of rope that Nyxian would almost certainly have objected to on technical grounds.
And the smallest—
A little Rabbitkin girl—
Held a wooden hammer nearly as large as she was.
"I'M BUNNY!"
The child with the bow groaned.
"You were Bunny last time!"
"I'm still Bunny!"
"You can't always be Bunny!"
The little girl's ears shot straight up.
"YES I CAN!"
She lifted the enormous wooden hammer over her head.
"BECAUSE I'M STRONGEST!"
Bunny laughed.
A real laugh.
Then—
For just a moment—
She heard something else.
Screaming.
Not here.
Lisbeth.
Children.
Fire.
Fear.
People she couldn't reach.
People she couldn't save.
Bunny closed her eyes.
She would never forget those sounds.
She didn't want to.
But then—
Wood struck wood.
"STARPIERCER!"
"That's not how a bow works!"
"I'M LLANDRA!"
"Then shoot something!"
"I AM!"
The little Rabbitkin swung her hammer.
"WORLD BREAKER!"
All four children scattered.
Laughing.
Bunny opened her eyes.
This sound mattered too.
Maybe more.
Jax stepped beside her.
He didn't ask.
He didn't need to.
Bunny reached for his hand.
Jax took it.
Around them—
Solmere lived.
Merchants shouted.
Hammers struck wood.
Music drifted through the streets.
Fairies argued over decorations.
Children laughed.
Her sisters were nearby.
Her husband stood beside her.
And in front of her—
A little Rabbitkin girl chased three other children with a wooden hammer.
Bunny squeezed Jax's hand.
Then smiled.
This was what she fought for.