3.3.4

Content warnings: child trafficking, child neglect, repeated child death, passive suicidal ideation (detail below; skip if you prefer surprises)

• Child trafficking is mentioned but not described.

• Repeated child death without gore or detailed description of the body. This is a significant portion of the chapter.

• Child neglect is depicted in the context of children being taken captive.

• Suicidal ideation in the form of survivor’s guilt

~.~

As the teams departed from the pocket dimension foyer, one by one, Auster found that he was more than a little nervous. The thought of maybe running into The Necromancer again sent a chill down his spine. The Lichtenberg figures across his back might be gone, but the feeling of them still remained. The Necromancer’s lightning was seared into his mind.

“Ready to go?” Joshua asked. There was still a hint of disapproval in his narrowed eyes, like he was regretting his decision to let Auster tag along.

Auster let out a shaky exhale as he scanned the now-empty foyer. Peter, Rae, and Joshua were all waiting on his decision—and he wasn’t going to hold them back. He was done being a deadweight.

“I’m ready.” Auster swallowed his nerves. “Let’s go.”

“Wait.” Peter held out a hand to stop them. “Before we go, I think we should familiarize ourselves with Auster’s powers. It’s only fair to—”

“Why?” Joshua said brusquely. He stepped between Auster and Peter, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “So you can use Auster in your little schemes?”

“That wasn’t really my goal,” Peter said coolly. “I just think we can’t function as a team without knowing each other’s abilities. But if it makes you feel better, I promise not to throw him into anything without asking first.”

Auster bristled. Considering Peter’s track record, he wasn’t really thrilled about the wording there—but on the other hand, Peter was exactly right. If the others didn’t have a good sense of what he could do, he would be useless in the field.

“That’s, um. Not really reassuring,” Auster said with a frown. “But you’re right. I can’t really help much unless you know what I’m capable of.”

“Fine,” Joshua ground out. “But just so we’re clear—I better not see you pulling any shit, Peter.”

Peter gave Joshua a silent salute. Auster took that as his cue to explain.

“So, um. You know I can strengthen powers,” Auster started. “But it’s like. When anyone uses their powers, I can see… trails of light, I guess? Like the way a fire leaves a trail of smoke. And then I make that light brighter.”

“Hmmm. Okay.” Peter’s brow furrowed in contemplation. “Do you boost all aspects of that person’s powers, or it is targeted? Like—could you just target Rae’s range, or would you hit other things along the way?”

“I, um. I have no idea,” Auster admitted. “I haven’t exactly gotten lots of practice with this.”

“Then now is a great time to find out,” Rae replied. “Speaking from experience—experimenting is the easiest way to figure this stuff out.”

“Oh. That, um. That makes sense,” Auster said sheepishly. “I guess I’ll just…”

With a slow exhale, Auster called upon his power. It was like flipping a switch in his brain, almost, to get his sight to turn on—and it didn’t take any energy to maintain that state, but it was overwhelming, sometimes, to see so much light and color.

When Auster opened his eyes, faint rainbow threads stretched from floor to ceiling, forming a tight weave that held the dimension together. The green and orange were the brightest, but all of them were muted, and—

Auster pushed that depressing thought aside as he turned his attention to his teammates. Peter and Rae both had nothing going on, since they weren’t using their powers, but there was a very faint haze curling around Joshua’s wings. It was a cargo green, a little lighter and less saturated than Kai’s.

“That’s strange.” Auster squinted at Joshua, as if that would make the green haze go away. “I can see your aura. I usually can’t see powers unless they’re being actively used, but…”

“Could be my wings?” Joshua guessed, stretching his wings. “Or my super speed. I don’t have to consciously activate either of my powers, so maybe they’re always on.”

“Oh,” Auster said mutely. “I guess I’d never really thought about it that way, but—I can only see one trail, and I’m not sure if it’s for your wings, your super speed, or both.”

“Only one way to find out.” Joshua gave Auster an encouraging smile. “Go easy on me, okay?”

Auster tried to ignore the butterflies in his stomach. Joshua’s smile should not make him feel like that. Absolutely not. Nope.

With a snap of his fingers, Auster summoned pink light to his hands—and then he channeled his energy into Joshua’s aura. It took most of his concentration to avoid donating too much of his energy at once, and by the end, he felt dizzy and light-headed, like he’d just run a marathon. The awe in Joshua’s eyes gave him the strength to stay standing.

“This is… incredible, Aust,” Joshua breathed. He experimentally flexed his wings. “It’s like—I think you made me physically lighter. More optimized for flight. And—”

Joshua cut off abruptly as a brick came flying towards his face. He dodged the projectile with ease, too fast for the naked eye to see—and then he launched himself into the air, rounding on the source of the brick.

“So he upped your speed, too,” Peter noted, grinning up at Joshua. “Interesting.”

“You little—” Joshua swooped towards Peter, ready to throttle him. Peter materialized a shield to hide behind, as if that would do him any good—and in the split second where both of their powers were active at once, Joshua’s earthy green and Peter’s vibrant orange overlapped in a flash of light.

Auster stumbled back, blinking away stars. Rae reached out a hand to steady him.

“Whoa, there. Are you okay?” Rae asked.

“Y-yeah.” Auster grimaced. His voice was barely audible through the ringing in his ears—a sign that he’d probably hit his limit. As he prepared to snuff out the pink glow at his fingertips, his gaze fell to his hands—and then he froze, because the light wasn’t pink anymore.

The right hand was orange. The left hand was green.

Auster’s eyes widened in shock. He could feel it, now. His powers weren’t draining him anymore, even though they were clearly active—and he wasn’t sure what that meant.

His head snapped up as he scanned the foyer for Peter and Joshua—and he found them engaged in a scuffle near the entrance to the living room, both silhouetted in a muddy brown. Peter was effortlessly darting out of Joshua’s grasp, almost like he was the one with super speed, and Joshua was moving noticeably slower, weighed down by… fatigue, maybe?

Almost like something was draining his energy.

With a horrified gasp, Auster cut off his powers. His palms were clammy at his sides, his head swimming—but he was more worried about Joshua. Apparently the feeling was mutual, because Joshua landed at Auster’s side almost immediately, a concerned frown on his face.

“Your powers drain your energy, don’t they,” Joshua said thinly. Auster averted his gaze. Joshua let out an exasperated sigh. “You should’ve told us, you idiot!”

“It’s not that bad,” Auster said weakly. “Just, um. I need a moment.”

“You’re not fooling anyone,” Joshua huffed. “But fine. What the hell did you do, anyway?”

“I’m… not sure.” Auster frowned. “I think… maybe I channeled your energy into Peter somehow?”

“It kinda seemed that way,” Peter agreed, cocking his head to the side in thought. “You gave me Joshua’s super speed somehow, and it drained him instead of you.”

“Hmm. That has some interesting applications,” Rae mused, stroking his chin. “If you can really allow us to tap into each other’s powers, the different combinations could be really helpful to explore.”

“Later,” Joshua said firmly. “When Aust isn’t struggling to stand.”

“Yeah, sure. We have places to go, anyway,” Peter said off-handedly. He materialized a plastic water bottle and floated it over to Auster. “So to summarize—Auster can non-selectively boost a person’s powers, which drains his energy. And he can also let us borrow from each other, which drains the energy of the lender.”

“Yeah. That, um, sounds right.” Auster took a sip from his water. “Also—I think the effect only lasts as long as I keep the channel open between the two people. So there’s that.”

“Which means it’s probably range-limited, too,” Rae noted. “Good to know.”

“Great!” Peter clapped his hands together in excitement. “Now that we know that—let’s get going. Ridwan probably has some absolutely delightful memories waiting for us.”

“I bet we’re walking into something idyllic and serene,” Joshua said thinly. He offered Auster a hand. “Stay close, okay?”

“Right.” Auster took Joshua’s hand with a smile. “Let’s do this.”

~.~

Peter had always enjoyed rush hour. For most working people, the throng of cars clogging up the roads twice a day was an annoyance, but Peter couldn’t drive, so he mostly found it convenient to pull off heists while everyone else was stuck in a mess of honking horns and misery.

As it turned out, rush hour in Riyadh was a lot louder and a lot more congested. As the four of them made their way through the jungle of neon signs and towering skyscrapers, every big road they passed was jam-packed with cars—and the air was filled with a chorus of honking car horns at all times, almost like that was how the drivers were communicating with each other.

Peter materialized an air horn so he could honk along. It only seemed fitting.

“Really, Peter?” Joshua griped. “Are you trying to draw attention to us?”

“This thing’s not even that loud,” Peter shot back. “And you can’t hear it with all the honking going on anyway.”

“That’s… true for now,” Rae admitted. “But from what I can tell, Ridwan is about to lead us through some smaller roads, so maybe hold off.”

With a dramatic sigh, Peter tossed the airhorn away. Lian would’ve appreciated the comedy, but everyone here was a stick in the mud.

After that, the group proceeded in silence. The sky continued to darken as they walked past brightly lit convenience stores and skyscrapers with neon trim and office buildings that were too tall for their own good—and really, aside from the Arabic, it was almost like they’d never left home.

“You’re being unusually quiet, Peter,” Rae said dryly. “Almost like you’re plotting something. Planning another deep sea dive?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Peter said solemnly. “I’m just contemplating the joys of true love, you know.”

Rae raised an eyebrow in disbelief. Peter did his best to look offended.

“What? Even I can see how nice it must be,” Peter replied, voice dripping with fake longing. His gaze landed on Joshua and Auster, still walking an awkward distance apart. “Feeling that spark, being too scared to close the distance, doing little things like cooking their favorite meals, being willing to die for—”

“Cut the bullshit,” Joshua snapped. “And tell us what you were actually thinking about. Or keep your damn mouth shut. I’m not picky.”

“Fine, fine. If you insist,” Peter relented. “I was actually thinking about The Necromancer—and how quiet he’s being. We’ve only run into him, what, three times?”

“That’s… a fair point,” Rae admitted. “You’d think we would’ve run into him more—especially since this isn’t his first soul hunt. He should already have a map of places to check.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Peter said, nodding sagely. “So then I started thinking—maybe he doesn’t have a map. Maybe things were different last time.”

“I see what you’re saying.” Auster fidgeted with the strings of his hoodie as he mulled over the idea. “Just because the soul fragments flew to places with important memories attached doesn’t mean they went to the same places. Since there’s, um. Lots of memories to choose from.”

Joshua snorted. “No kidding. The old man only had five soul pieces, but with more than eight centuries of shit to dig through—those pieces could’ve gone to five completely different locations last time.”

I wouldn’t go that far, Kai interjected. Some locations are less important, but El Jem, the Himalayan temple, Kanem, Isfahan—our souls will always be drawn to these places.

But not here, Peter noted. So I guess you don’t know what’s waiting for us?

I’m afraid not, Kai replied. Sorry to disappoint.

Rae’s steps slowed as xe led them into a broad plaza, surrounded on all sides by flashing billboards and sleek skyscrapers. Peter warily scanned the area for surveillance cameras or guards or any oddly-behaving pedestrians, but the plaza was completely empty, which was almost more suspicious.

Give us your best guess for what we’ll see, Joshua pressed. Surely you know something, old man.

I know that Ridwan grew up here, Kai offered. But I died when they were still quite young, so I have no context beyond that.

Oh, I remember reading something about this on Silpa’s laptop, Joel chimed in. Didn’t your death kick off a war?

A very long one, yes, Kai confirmed. Ridwan spent most of their first lifetime fighting in that war.

Their first lifetime? Peter cut in. What does that mean?

That is… rather complicated, Kai said carefully. In essence—all of us, aside from Jinal, died before the tenth century, and we were resurrected centuries later, so we each had two lifetimes, so to speak.

That brought to the surface a tidbit of information from one of Haku’s memories—something about Haku waking up in the infirmary several centuries after their death, clearly in a panic. They had been desperate to learn to use their powers to save Jinal from… something, but Peter wasn’t sure what—and just as he was about to ask, Rae came to a halt in front of one of the skyscrapers along the plaza’s border.

“Is this… our stop?” Auster asked.

“Yeah.”

Rae’s voice was tight with… anger? Frustration? Guilt? Peter couldn’t quite place it—and he couldn’t figure out what had set Rae off, either, because all the signs were in a language Rae theoretically couldn’t understand.

As Peter scanned the area for the offending object, his gaze landed on the holographic doorman at the skyscraper’s entrance. The man in the projection looked like your generic rich white asshole, with a suit that cost more than Peter’s entire life savings and a smile that just screamed “sleazy politician.”

This man happened to be both of these things. Peter had never had the displeasure of meeting him, but everyone in The Company knew his face—and judging by the hard edge to Rae’s gaze, xe was more than familiar.

Neal Casimir. The Soul Stealers’ legal janitor, so to speak.

He was also the head of the Maceo Syndicate: the most powerful of the three main branches of the Soul Stealers. Their insider connections with local and federal governments around the world made it impossible to escape their reach—and if you had the misfortune of getting sued by the Casimir Law Firm, you were screwed.

From the past year of shared dreams, Peter knew that Rae’s lawyer work often put xem right up against Casimir’s cronies—but the look in xyr eyes screamed of a grudge that was more personal in nature. Peter would’ve loved to pry that can of worms open right now—but they had bigger problems.

Like the fact that Ridwan’s soul fragment was apparently hanging out in a building owned by Neal Casimir.

Damn, Joshua grumbled. Soul Stealer territory.

Yeah, Rae said grimly. That’s going to make getting in there more difficult. Maybe our resident thief has some bright ideas?

A few hours earlier, and we could’ve pretended to be lost tourists, Peter mused. But this late in the day, we’re better off just breaking in.

What? Auster balked. Isn’t that risky?

Maybe, Peter said with a shrug. Were you not prepared for the risks when you signed up to join us?

Joshua gave Peter a withering look. Peter fully ignored him in favor of scrutinizing Auster. There was a flicker of uncertainty across the other man’s face—but surprisingly enough, he didn’t back down.

Good. His conviction was real.

I was just wondering if there was a less illegal way to do this, Auster said slowly, a subtle frown on his face. But if we’re committing crimes, that’s fine by me.

Maybe we don’t need to go that far, Rae said dryly. Attuning to the soul cores let me see the locations of the soul fragments earlier, so I can probably do the same here and switch places with the fragment. The only problem is range.

Rae craned xyr neck to get a better look at the upper floors. The skyscraper really was unnecessarily tall—maybe around twenty floors if Peter had to guess—and knowing their luck—

It’s too damn high, isn’t it. Joshua scowled. Why can’t things ever be easy?

Well, Rae began. I have an idea for getting around that. If—

Oooo, I know! Peter said cheerfully. Joshua can carry you up there!

This earned Peter twin looks of disgust from Rae and Joshua. Peter gave them his most innocent smile in reply.

Aw, what’s wrong, Joshua? Peter teased. Would you rather be carrying Au—

You little shit! Joshua roared. He took a step towards Peter, his glare evolving into something downright murderous—and then Rae cut him off.

Thanks for that useless suggestion, Peter, Rae deadpanned. Now I’m going to explain my actual idea. Auster, you think you could lend me a hand?

M-me? Auster’s voice was pitched slightly higher than normal, his cheeks dusted crimson. He was clearly still flustered by the thought of Joshua carrying him—and Peter couldn’t help but roll his eyes at that. Mutual pining was something he’d never understand.

Yes, you, Peter said dismissively. Rae wants you to boost xyr radar, obviously.

Oh. Auster frowned. Wait, if you knew that, then why—

Because Peter thrives off of pissing people off, Joshua ground out. He looked like he was seriously contemplating strangling Peter—but his expression softened when he turned to Auster. So. Think you’re up to it, Aus?

Um. Yeah. Maybe, Auster said haltingly. Just, um. Be patient with me. It might take a couple tries.

Eh, don’t worry about that, Peter said casually. You’ve got me and Joshua keeping watch. I’m sure we can come up with some fun distractions if we need to.

…Right. Joshua scowled at Peter. If you ask me to carry you, I’m going to drop you.

Good to know! Peter turned to Rae with a grin. One last thing. If Auster’s powers can’t reach you up there, you’ll be stranded, so—do you have a return plan?

Rae frowned. I… hadn’t really thought about that. The range on my radar is a lot wider than my range for teleportation, so I’d still be able to attune to stuff down here, but… hm.

I might be able to help, Joel interjected. I think I can borrow Kai’s power to like. Teleport Rae back. I can’t use that to get you into the building, since I don’t know where you’re going, but to get you back here—that should be easy.

Sounds good. Rae smiled up at the sky, as if looking to Joel. Counting on you, man in the chair.

The four of them camped out in the shadow of a nearby building, a reasonable distance away from the law firm. Peter doubted the gesture would do much to help if someone had already noticed them, but it was better than looking openly suspicious.

Rae closed xyr eyes, as if in meditation, and Auster followed suit. Peter was kind of curious to see Auster’s powers in action—but this was also a prime opportunity to antagonize Joshua in private. Peter switched to one-on-one telepathy.

Hey, Joshua, Peter said idly. Any reason you can think of that Rae would have a grudge against Casimir?

No, came the curt reply.

Darn. Peter let out an exaggerated sigh. Figured as much, but thought I’d ask.

That was a little unfortunate, but not unexpected. Joshua didn’t seem like the type to really pay much attention to the shared dreams, aside from the ones that directly intersected with his life, so there was a slim chance he knew anything that Peter didn’t.

Peter had been meticulously keeping records on the others for years, after all.

He had a journal, sectioned by person, that listed every single shared dream in chronological order—and at first he’d been keeping this record just in case he ever needed some leverage, but now it was a useful tool to help him predict his teammates. The journal was intentionally pretty flimsy—easy to destroy in a hurry, and easy to materialize again with the contents intact when he needed to reference it.

The only person who might have kept better records than him was Karyme, actually—and since it seemed like she might’ve known Rae even before the prison break, it probably wasn’t a bad idea to ask her about Rae’s weird little grudge.

Why do you even care? Joshua grumbled. Trying to dig up more blackmail material?

Nah. I save that approach for you, Peter said with a grin. I just think Rae having a hidden vendetta could bite us in the ass later if xe decides to act on it.

That’s a funny statement coming from the guy who dove into the ocean without warning, Joshua snarked. But I’ll keep an eye out.

Trying to explain that particular maneuver to Joshua was completely futile—but the soft clink of glass on stone saved him the trouble. Peter turned around to find that Rae was gone. In his place, resting at Auster’s feet, was a glowing indigo marble.

“I, um—I shouldn’t touch that, right?” Auster asked. His hands were no longer glowing pink—a sign that his powers couldn’t reach Rae from this distance, most likely.

“Not yet.” Peter’s gaze flitted towards the Casimir building’s upper levels, where Rae was no doubt dealing with troubles of his own. “Gotta wait for lawyer man to get back.”

No sooner had Peter spoken than Rae reappeared in a flash of green, looking none the worse for wear.

“That was fast,” Joshua remarked, arms crossed. “No issues up there?”

“Nope,” Rae replied. “But I might’ve set off the security system, so we should hurry.”

“Great!” Peter said cheerfully, kneeling next to Ridwan’s soul fragment. “In that case—here goes!”

As soon as Peter’s fingers brushed against the glass, everything faded to black.

~.~

It was too dark to see anything. They had nothing to guide them except for the flickering of the lamp Ridwan’s father carried and a faint indigo flame in Ridwan’s cupped palm. Despite that, Ridwan vaguely recognized the twisting alleyways they traversed—so they could tell that their mother was leading them in the wrong direction.

“Ya ummi.” Ridwan addressed their mother with a frown. “I thought you said we were going to the temple.”

“We—we are!” she said hurriedly. “We’re just… taking the long way around.”

Ridwan’s frown deepened. Her voice was high-pitched, almost like she was nervous, and the hint of panic as her gaze darted to and fro—that settled it. She was hiding something. Ridwan wanted to believe it was a good something, but Samya’s warning, whispered as their parents dragged Ridwan out the door, nagged at the back of their mind:

The temple elders visited earlier. There was much shouting, and—I’m worried for you, little brother.

Ridwan’s feet began to drag, weighed down by a deep sense of unease. The more they thought about it, the less it made sense. The elders only ever called upon the Beshara family to see Karai’s next chosen prophet—yet they’d chosen to visit while Ridwan was out training? And now they had asked Ridwan’s parents to bring them to the temple in the middle of the night? What were they planning to do at such an odd time of day?

“Hurry up! You’re going to make us late!”

Ridwan’s father spoke with harsh, clipped words as he pulled Ridwan along by the wrist, his grip far tighter than it needed to be. It was almost like he thought Ridwan was going to try to escape—but from what?

It was too dark to see anything—and maybe that was the point.

After a lengthy trek through winding back alleys—much of which consisted of them circling back and doubling their steps—Ridwan’s mother finally stopped at a nondescript dwelling made of the same adobe as the other buildings around it.

Notably, this was not the temple. It wasn’t even close.

“You lied,” Ridwan said rigidly. “Why are we—”

“Hush!” Ridwan’s father said roughly.

Ridwan bit the inside of their cheek. Their curiosity was killing them—but they weren’t going to show disrespect without good reason. Surely they could trust their parents to have their best interests in mind.

Right?

Ridwan’s mother gave the wooden door a timid knock, almost too quiet to be heard, and the door swung open almost immediately, revealing the local temple’s head priest. Before Ridwan could even finish their hasty bow in greeting, their father shoved them inside.

The door locked behind them with a click.

In the flickering candlelight, Ridwan could make out four familiar faces, aside from the one that had greeted them at the door. All were prominent members of the local branch of the Temple of Karai. Ridwan knew these people—had trained with them, dined with them, sought their guidance.

The cold hostility in their eyes was entirely new.

“We brought Ridwan, as you asked,” Ridwan’s father said stiffly.

“And I thank you for that,” the head priest said calmly, bowing his head. When he turned to Ridwan, his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Good evening, Ridwan.”

Ridwan gave a mumbled greeting in reply as they sank into a customary kneel, palms to the floor and head touching the ground. They never quite relaxed into the position—and it was a good thing, too, because when they heard soft footsteps from behind, they were ready to scramble to their knees and dart out of the way.

Ridwan’s eyes widened in shock. The two men who had tried to catch them off guard were each holding shackles, like they had been planning to take Ridwan prisoner, but that couldn’t be right, because Ridwan hadn’t done anything wrong. As if reading Ridwan’s thoughts, the head priest piped up.

“Sorry, little one,” he said smoothly. “You’ll be coming with us.”

“But—but I—” Ridwan’s legs felt weak. “What did I do wrong?”

“Nothing,” the head priest said sadly. “It’s just… you’re a little too dangerous to allow you to fly free any longer.”

Ridwan’s blood went cold. The priest’s smile held the kind of pity usually saved for people with fatal wounds or deadly diseases—people who were doomed to die. They needed to run now.

But what could one kid really do against six adults?

They tried their best, of course. When the first man lunged towards them, they blocked him with a shield, giving them enough time to dash past him, but then the shield shattered and two more men were trying to grab them and they were able to teleport to the door somehow, but the effort left them reeling, because they’d never tried that before, and they were too weak to stumble to their feet.

Too weak to stop their father from pinning them to the ground.

Ridwan tried to squirm out of his grip, but it was pointless. Even that short-distance teleportation had completely drained them. Soon, they were being held down by several sets of hands, and all the while, their mother simply stood and watched. A torrent of bitterness welled up in Ridwan’s chest.

“Ya ummi, abbi!” Ridwan snarled. Angry tears sprang to their eyes as they addressed their parents. “You’re really abandoning me?”

No response from either parent.

As the shackles closed around Ridwan’s wrists, they felt Karai’s power go silent, almost like it had been sealed away—and the fact that the temple elders had restraints like these meant they’d been planning to betray Karai’s chosen ones for a long, long time.

That didn’t make it sting any less.

“I didn’t know the temple had chains like this,” Ridwan sneered. “You must be really desperate to use this kind of secret on a mere child.”

None of the temple leaders responded to the pointed jab—but there was a flash of guilt in their mother’s eyes, a sudden tightening of their father’s grip, and that spurred Ridwan to keep talking, even if the words wouldn’t free them.

“You’re a horrible mother for bringing me here,” Ridwan said hotly, tears in their eyes. “What kind of parents offer up their own child like this? I trusted you, and you—”

Ridwan’s father shoved their head to the ground, forcing them into silence, but they felt a vindictive sort of satisfaction, knowing that they’d struck a nerve. Their parents deserved to sink under the weight of this decision for the rest of their lives.

Ridwan looked to their mother one last time—one last, silent plea for help.

She turned away.

~.~

As Peter shook off residual feelings of betrayal and hurt, the pieces were already coming together in their head.

The elders who took Ridwan captive seemed to be from a religion that worshiped Karai—and Kai had briefly mentioned living at one of the temples for Karai earlier, which fed into the idea that the elders took Ridwan captive under the table. But why? What could’ve happened around the time Ridwan was ten or twelve years old that would’ve made the elders wary of their power?

Something like Ven and Kai’s public execution, hosted by another of Karai’s chosen prophets?

That definitely explained the way Ridwan and Mateen were always bickering. Mateen had completely ruined Ridwan’s life, and they still held a grudge—though it was maybe a little silly to act that way after several centuries of living in the same space. Maybe.

“That was pleasant,” Auster muttered.

“It really wasn’t that bad,” Peter said dismissively. “That was just garden-variety betrayal, like the kind you’d find anywhere on the streets.”

“That doesn’t make this any easier,” Joshua snapped. “Watching this shit is one thing, but feeling that ‘garden-variety betrayal’ secondhand is unnerving.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say.” With an exaggerated eye roll, Peter switched to telepathy. Hey, Joel. What’s our itinerary for the rest of the morning?

Hmmm, well—you could come back here, Joel pondered. But you’re done way earlier than everyone else, so… I can pester Haku for your next destination if you’re up for it.

I still don’t know how you managed to get that bastard to talk to you, Joshua said wearily. But…

Joshua’s gaze darted towards Auster, the silent question clear in his eyes. Auster’s incessant fidgeting with his hoodie strings had come to a stop, as if quieted by the horror of the situation—but when he caught Joshua’s look of concern, his demeanor changed.

That sounds like the best use of our time, Auster said firmly. Do your thing, Joel.

Roger that! Joel chirped. Gimme a sec to bug Haku.

As the younger Tenine presumably scurried off to work his magic, Peter scanned the street for threats. He still couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary—except for Rae, of course. Xyr gaze was distant, like xe wasn’t quite tuned in to what was going on, and that made for the perfect victim.

Peter materialized a balloon and a pin as he crept up to the lawyer—and then he popped the balloon right next to Rae’s ear. Rae let out a startled yelp.

“What the hell, Peter?” Rae whirled to face Peter with a scowl. Peter met xyr glare with a shit-eating grin.

“Just making sure you were paying attention,” Peter said cheerfully. “And now that you are—anything interesting on your mind?”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Rae grumbled. “I was just thinking about what we saw. We’ll have to give Ridwan shadow therapy at some point, so—it doesn’t hurt to plan ahead.”

“Huh. That’s not a bad idea,” Peter admitted. He materialized a notebook and pencil. “Come up with anything fun?”

“Not… really.” Rae’s frown took on a contemplative air. “Betrayal seems to be a pretty big theme here, which… makes sense. To be tossed to the wolves by your own parents at age… twelve? Thirteen? That must’ve hurt.”

There it was again—that hard edge to Rae’s voice that seemed to come out of nowhere. The fact that Rae identified strongly with Ridwan’s feelings of betrayal combined with his apparent grudge on Casimir painted quite the picture.

“It hurt Ridwan’s parents, too. Their faces—you could tell,” Auster said quietly.

“It doesn’t matter if it hurt them,” Joshua said roughly. “They gave away their own kid. Who the hell even does that?”

“Lots of people,” Peter said casually. As he spoke, he opened his notebook to a fresh page and began to take notes. “You’d be surprised how many people sell their kids into slavery for a bit of cash.”

Like Peter’s mom, for instance.

She’d sold him off so early on that he couldn’t even remember her face, much less the fact that she’d cast him away—but one of the older kids who’d broken him out of the human trafficking ring had apparently seen it happen, and that was good enough for Peter. He didn’t really care about the truth of how his story began, anyway.

“I… don’t think it was money,” Auster mumbled, gaze downcast. “I think… there were threats involved.”

“I agree,” Rae said grimly. “Ridwan’s father said they brought Ridwan over because they had been asked to, almost as if the temple had forced their hand.”

“A threat to their other kids would’ve fit the bill quite nicely,” Peter chimed in, snapping his notebook shut. “Sacrificing one kid to save the others—it’s just simple math.”

“...You could at least pretend to have some shame when you say awful things like that,” Rae said dourly. “Those are human lives you’re talking about.”

Peter frowned. He didn’t think it was awful at all, actually. He’d seen that math play out in real-time. One person refuses to hand over three kids to the Company enforcers, and suddenly everyone’s dead.

Peter had only survived because of Haku.

Um, well—that’s a hell of a mystery that didn’t even really need solving, Joel said mildly. But nice detective work?

Just tell us where to go, Joshua groused. Preferably before the Soul Stealers find us.

Sure thing, boss! Joel chirped. Looks like your next stop is Isfahan, Iran.

Awesome, Rae said miserably. That’s one of the places Kai listed earlier—so he must know what horrifying trauma awaits us there.

Maybe, Joel hummed. But you’ll have to ask him later. He’s doing story time with one of the other teams right now.

That was unfortunate—but there was no sense in worrying about it. If this was going to showcase the worst of Ridwan’s memories, so be it. Better to get that out of the way early.

Guess we’re walking in blind, Joshua grumbled, fishing his teleportation crystal out of his jacket pocket. This day just keeps getting better.

Don’t worry, Joshua, Peter said happily, clicking his teleportation crystal. We’ll just interrogate Kai after we land.

~.~

Auster still wasn’t used to the sensation of teleporting. It was a little disorienting, like what he imagined G-force must feel like. A rush of cool air, that stomach-dropping sensation, a bout of dizziness—and then you were halfway across the world.

The sun had already set in Isfahan by the time they landed. The crystal spit them out atop a rocky hill, several hundred feet high. Below them, dark forest carpeted the landscape in all directions—with the exception of the miles-long sea of twinkling city lights in front of them. Auster could faintly make out scattered ruins of stone buildings at the foot of the hill, but the real star here was the hilltop tower a few feet away. It was a cylindrical clay structure, a couple stories tall, with six evenly-spaced arched openings and no ceiling.

Hey, Joel—can you let us know when Kai gets back? Rae asked.

Sure can do, Joel chirped. For now, I’ll help you keep an eye out.

Thanks, Joel. Joshua turned to Rae with a scowl. Where’s our dead tour guide leading us?

Down. Rae’s gaze landed on the tower behind them. Under that tower, if I had to guess.

Auster gulped. He didn’t really like the sound of that.

Ooooo, secret passage time! Peter’s eyes sparkled with excitement. Let’s see who can find it first!

Before anyone could react, Peter scurried up the crude stone staircase to the tower’s entrance. Joshua stormed after him with an exasperated sigh, leaving Auster and Rae scrambling to keep up.

As they entered the tower, a wave of cool air washed over them—which was odd, because the top of the structure opened up to the sky, providing no cover or insulation. It almost felt… haunted. A shiver ran down Auster’s spine as he searched the packed clay walls for any hidden switches or panels.

Welcome to the Fire Temple of Isfahan.

Auster nearly jumped right out of his skin at the sound of Kai’s voice. Joel was right. Kai really did have a knack for spooking people.

Thanks for the warm welcome, Joshua snarked. Now tell us what we’re going to see, your highness.

Joshua’s words were harsh, clipped, completely devoid of patience—and considering the day Peter had treated them to so far, Auster couldn’t really blame him. The court jester seemed intent on antagonizing them both. Luckily, Kai didn’t seem particularly bothered.

I can certainly tell you, Kai said patiently. But it would help if you told me what you saw in Riyadh so I avoid repeating what you already know.

Fine, Joshua grunted. To summarize—Ridwan’s parents handed them over to a group of “temple elders.” I’m guessing this has to do with the Temple of Karai you keep mentioning?

Correct.

At that moment, the grinding of stone against stone echoed through the space. Auster whirled around just in time to see a panel in the floor slide away, revealing a gaping hole at Rae’s feet.

“Found it,” Rae said bluntly. Auster let out a sigh of relief.

“Aw, man. I was hoping I’d win,” Peter lamented. An industrial flashlight popped into existence in his hand.

“Sorry,” Rae said dryly, nudging the ground next to the passage with xyr toe. “My bracelet seemed pretty eager to show me the switch.”

“Great,” Joshua muttered. “Definitely a good sign.”

As Joshua spoke, Peter swept the beam of his flashlight along the length of the opening, revealing a precipitous stone staircase with no end in sight. Auster gulped.

“Looks like a pretty steep descent,” Rae said warily. “Let’s take it slow.”

“Eh, if one of you falls, I can telekinesis you,” Peter said dismissively, handing Rae a second flashlight. “It'd be a nice test of my reflexes.”

“Let’s not do that,” Auster said wearily. “Please.”

As Rae led the four of them down the uneven staircase, their steps echoed in the darkness, accompanied by Kai’s ominous narration.

You are entering one of the branch sites of the Temple of Karai—a religious institution that grew around Jinal by accident. After Haku’s death, Jinal realized she couldn’t locate and protect her successors alone, so she exploited the Temple’s resources.

Kai’s voice was completely even, almost like one of those automated tour guides. This did nothing to help Auster’s rising sense of dread.

Initially, our involvement with the Temple was minimal—but by the time Skye came around, Karai’s chosen were globally revered, so Ridwan was born into the life of a figurehead.

Muddled whispers crawled up the stairwell, heavy with suspicion. The atmosphere seemed to press down on them with each step, and even the smallest sounds seemed to echo too loudly in the stairwell—almost like it was impossible to exist in this space without being noticed. Without being critiqued.

Was this how Ridwan had felt back then?

So if you were all figureheads, you didn’t hold any real power in the Temple itself, Joshua said impatiently.

Precisely, Kai confirmed. The alliance between us and the council was tenuous at best—and when Mateen executed Ven and myself in front of the Temple’s dissidents, that was tantamount to a declaration of war.

So they took Ridwan prisoner in retaliation, Rae said grimly. That’s… harsh.

Not just Ridwan, Kai corrected. They captured Silpa as well, though she hadn’t yet begun training. The council meant to prevent them both from becoming threats in the future.

How… old were they?

Auster’s voice was barely above a whisper. He felt sick to his stomach at the thought of pre-teen Ridwan and an even younger Silpa being held in prison.

Ridwan was twelve. Silpa was seven.

Auster’s legs suddenly felt weak. He would’ve fallen down the stairs if not for Joshua’s reflexes—but they were basically at the bottom step, so it wouldn’t have killed him any more than the searing hot embarrassment of Joshua’s hands around his torso, wrenching him away from a nasty fall.

“Are you okay?” Joshua asked, brow furrowed in concern.

“Y-yeah,” Auster mumbled. “Just fine.”

Seven years old. Seven years old.

That number kept ringing in Auster’s head even as they left the stairs behind them. The stairwell opened into a large, circular room—a mess of crumbled stone, weathered down by the specter of time. It was impossible to tell what this room used to be, but the high ceiling and the tall arched windows gave it a sense of imperial grandeur, almost.

“What is this place?” Joshua surveyed the room with a frown. “Some kind of ceremonial area?”

“Whatever it is, it’s pretty big,” Peter remarked, turning in a circle. “Might make it harder to find our other child prisoner’s soul.”

“What?” Auster frowned. “You mean Silpa?”

“Um, duh?” Peter raised an eyebrow. “Her soul’s definitely here, too—and we better hope it’s bundled with Ridwan’s, because we don’t have her bracelet to guide us.”

“Maybe… Ridwan will show us the way?”

No sooner had Rae finished his sentence than indigo light flared from his bracelet—and it was like time rewound before their eyes. Piles of rubble reassembled into a tall, black desk that followed the curvature of the far side of the room. Behind the desk, five faceless shadows sat in tall straight-backed chairs. Faint sunlight filtered in through the arched stained glass windows against the western wall, painting the pristine marble floor in a myriad of colors.

Auster could tell, now, that this was a place of judgment.

Kai, Rae said slowly. What exactly did they do to Ridwan and Silpa here?

Well—

“U-um! Hi! I-I think I’m lost.”

Kai was interrupted by the voice of a child, bright and nervous as she tugged at Auster’s sleeve. Auster’s stomach dropped. This girl had dark skin and a long, black braid, and she looked about seven years old, which meant—

They executed her.

The girl went rigid. Blood gushed from her chest as she collapsed to the ground, motionless. Beneath her, a blade receded into the floor.

Auster stumbled back, eyes wide with horror. His brain was too full of static for him to string thoughts together. He was vaguely aware of Joshua calling his name, shaking him by the shoulder, but he couldn’t stop staring at the little girl bleeding out on the floor.

Seven years old. Seven years old.

He felt like throwing up. He couldn't breathe.

And then the corpse disappeared, and the little girl was staring up at him with an innocent smile once again, as if nothing had ever happened. Auster’s breath hitched in his chest.

“H-hey,” he said weakly. “You should run away.”

“Run away?” The girl cocked her head to the side. “Why?”

“Well, that’s—”

A blade erupted from the ground. Blood splattered across the marble.

Auster turned away, retching violently. Joshua’s hand on his shoulder did little to ground him.

And then time rewound again.

This time, a startled shriek rang through the air as Peter floated little Silpa a few feet off the floor—and then a metal spike impaled the girl in midair.

Time turned back.

Peter tried floating Silpa in all sorts of directions. It never worked. It was always the same. The hiss of metal. A sickening squelch. A body hitting the floor.

Blood. Blood. Blood.

Joshua forcefully wrenched Auster away from the scene, pulling him into a hug of sorts, and Auster couldn’t take it anymore. He dug his face into Joshua’s shoulder with a strangled sob, all earlier reservations forgotten. He needed this. For a minute, he simply trembled in Joshua’s arms, struggling to breathe.

It was horribly selfish of him.

Auster could tell from Joshua’s desperate grip and shaking hands that he was just as upset by all this—and though Joshua was the only thing preventing Auster from crumbling to ash, it was unfair to ask him to act strong all on his own.

Auster pushed Joshua away with a mumbled thanks. As he stepped back, there was a flicker of… something across Joshua’s face. Disappointment? Regret? Guilt?

Behind them, Silpa’s scream echoed through the air.

“You know,” Peter said idly. “It’s almost like she’s trying to thwart me from saving her.”

Auster winced. Peter’s flippant tone fell right in line with what little Auster knew about him (which was basically nothing), but it was still jarring to hear someone talk about a kid’s death so casually—

(A tiny body crumpled to the ground.)

—and apparently Joshua agreed, because he grabbed Peter by the collar of his jacket before Auster could stop him.

“Can you stop that?” Joshua growled. “I know you’re used to watching kids die, but treating a corpse like some sort of toy—”

“Isn’t what I’m doing,” Peter said coolly. He didn’t even bat an eye at Joshua’s outburst, which only seemed to make Joshua angrier. Auster swallowed. The tension between Joshua and Peter was not doing anything for his already frayed nerves.

“So, um. What were you doing?” Auster asked—a poor attempt to smooth things over.

“I was experimenting to figure out the rules of this death loop,” Peter explained. “And I get it now. The fact that I can’t save Silpa, no matter how hard I try—”

“It’s survivor’s guilt.”

Rae’s voice was strained, and the weight behind xis words—xe was speaking from personal experience.

(Rivers of red trickling across white marble.)

“Oh,” Auster breathed. “Ridwan couldn’t save her, so—so we can’t, either. Which means—”

“We’ve gotta fix Ridwan’s guilt somehow,” Peter said gravely. “And until we do, we’re stuck.”

(The ka-shink of a metal blade zipping through a crack in the floor.)

“You’re fucking kidding me. More immortal therapy?” Joshua shoved Peter away. “We should be fucking paid for this at this point.”

Peter wordlessly materialized a wad of Monopoly money and handed it to Joshua, earning himself a death glare. Auster placed a hand on Joshua’s arm, as if that would somehow be enough to prevent him from exploding again—and then he changed the topic for good measure.

So, um, Kai, Auster said quickly. I-if you know anything else about—

Silpa was executed first, Kai said bleakly. And in her panic, she subconsciously forced her body to awaken to Yaran’s curse all at once, incinerating her from the inside out.

(A tiny body crumpled to the ground.)

Like what happened to Haku, Peter noted.

Similar, but not quite the same, Kai replied, his voice eerily calm. Haku had already awakened to half of Yaran’s curse—but Silpa was completely naive. She never stood a chance.

Auster’s gaze drifted back to the blossoming bloodstain a few feet away. He couldn’t bear to look at her body. He couldn’t bear to look away.

(Rivers of red trickling across white marble.)

And Ridwan? Joshua pressed. What happened to them?

Ridwan’s situation was identical to Haku’s, Kai explained. They had awakened to half of Yaran’s curse, and they had just barely begun training. By all accounts, they should have died here, but…

(The ka-shink of a metal blade zipping through a crack in the floor.)

They refused to give in, Peter finished. And that’s all they needed—because that’s how your immortality works. If you want to survive, you will.

Yes, Kai murmured. And that is all I know.

(A tiny body crumpled to the ground.)

So Ridwan gained the power to protect themself, Rae said grimly. But only after it was too late. If they had been executed first, then…

Rae trailed off, leaving that dismal thought hanging in the air. They all knew how that sentence ended. With a shuddering exhale, Auster tore his eyes from Silpa’s corpse—and that’s when he noticed it. A hoarse yell echoing inside the walls, almost too faint to hear.

(Rivers of red trickling across white marble.)

“Does… anyone else hear that?” Auster said slowly.

“No.” Joshua frowned. “What are we supposed to be hearing?”

“Well.” Auster gulped. “It sounds like… screaming.”

There was a brief silence as everyone strained to hear it—

(The ka-shink of a metal blade zipping through a crack in the floor.)

And there it was. An anguished yell, right as Silpa’s corpse hit the ground.

“Ridwan,” Rae breathed.

“I was wondering when they’d show up,” Peter said lightly.

“So what’s the play here?” Joshua said thinly. “We help Ridwan save Silpa, they get their happily ever after, and we get the hell out of here?”

(A tiny body crumpled to the ground.)

“The first step is finding them,” Peter replied, giving the room another once-over. “They sound kinda far away, so… maybe we have another secret passage situation on our hands.”

Not to intrude, Joel chimed in. But if you’re looking for a hidden switch, it’s probably part of the desk. That’s the only notable thing in the room, so—

Seriously? Joshua said wearily. You’re using video game logic?

No, I’m using my brain, Joel shot back, in a tone that made it very clear to Auster that Joshua had absolutely hit the nail on the head. Auster bit back a smile.

It’s a good idea, Rae conceded, a hint of bemusement in his voice. My bracelet’s not really helping, anyway, so why not give it a shot?

(Rivers of red trickling across white marble.)

With no other options, the four of them made a beeline for the desk. As they approached, Ridwan’s faint screams grew louder, echoing in tandem with Silpa’s—an unsettling sign that they were headed in the right direction.

There were no clear exits on this side of the room that could lead them to Ridwan’s location, but on the wall behind the desk, there was a door-sized panel that was clearly darker than the surrounding stone. It wasn’t even the slightest bit subtle.

And since there was no handle, hinge, or doorknob in sight—

Maybe Joel was onto something, Auster said mildly.

Shut up, Joshua muttered. And start looking for the damn switch.

(The ka-shink of a metal blade zipping through a crack in the floor.)

Auster turned his attention to the desk. It was big, like the kind judges sat behind in a courtroom, but with enough space to accommodate a row of five chairs. The humanoid shadows occupying said chairs were completely still, emotionless, with no discernible facial features.

It was unnerving.

They had no eyes, but Auster could still feel the weight of their gaze boring into him as he searched for a switch. He was more than a little relieved when Peter’s victorious whoop rang through the air, followed by the sound of a door sliding open behind them.

(A tiny body crumpled to the ground.)

What’d I tell you? Joel said smugly.

Yeah, yeah, Joshua grumbled. I’m sure you’re real proud of yourself.

As he should be, Peter said, nodding sagely. He’s doing great work as the man in the chair.

No one asked you, Joshua snapped.

The Tenine siblings’ banter cut through the tension in the air just a little as the group proceeded through the hidden door, with Rae leading the way and Joshua taking the rear. The hallway on the other side was narrow and serpentine, lined by closed doors leading to who knows where. Their way was the lit only by Peter’s flashlight and the glow of Rae’s bracelet, which seemed to intensify as they approached the source of the scream.

(Rivers of red trickling across white marble.)

As the scream grew louder, closed doors morphed into prison cells, furnished with nothing but shackles, all empty except for the one in the far corner—and that must’ve been Ridwan chained to the wall, an absolutely defeated look on their face. The teenager’s dark skin was smeared with dirt, their close-cropped hair matted with blood, and their filthy rags hung from their lanky frame. The cuffs around their wrists seemed to be sucking power out of their hands each time they resisted.

To Ridwan’s right, a single window overlooked the circular hall they’d just left behind. Even from this high up, it was easy to see Silpa’s blood splattered across the white marble floor.

Auster inhaled sharply. Ridwan hadn’t just been helpless. They’d been forced to watch.

“This just gets worse and worse,” Rae muttered. “Who even builds a cell like this?”

“Someone who wants their prisoners to suffer,” Ridwan said bitterly. “And I deserved it. Every second of it.”

(The ka-shink of a metal blade zipping through a crack in the floor.)

Auster bit his lip. Where to even begin unpacking that? There was a lot of survivor’s guilt there, and he could see why, but this—it wasn’t going to be easy to fix.

“H-hey,” Auster tried. “I-I know you’re scared, but—”

“Leave me alone,” Ridwan said sharply. “And go help Rukmini.”

Auster swallowed. This was off to a great start.

(A tiny body crumpled to the ground.)

“We already tried that one, and it didn’t really work out,” Peter sighed. “So we thought maybe you’d be a better fit for the job.”

“I’m not,” Ridwan said firmly, turning their face away. “Now go.”

(Rivers of red trickling across white marble.)

With an exasperated sigh, Joshua turned to Peter.

“Bolt cutters.”

“Your wish is my command.”

Peter’s words were silky smooth as he handed Joshua a pair of newly-materialized bolt cutters with a flourish. Joshua rolled his eyes as he turned back to Ridwan.

“I’m going to cut you out,” Joshua said bluntly. “Don’t move.”

Ridwan regarded Joshua with a baleful look, but they made no effort to reply—and as soon as Joshua brought the bolt cutters near Ridwan’s wrists, they bit his arm.

(The ka-shink of a metal blade zipping through a crack in the floor.)

“What the fuck?” Joshua withdrew his hand with a scowl. “I’m trying to help you, you brat!”

“Don’t pretend,” Ridwan spat. “You’re here to use me, just like the rest!”

(A tiny body crumpled to the ground.)

“That’s, uh. Certainly one way to view the world,” Rae said carefully. “But you can’t help Silpa from up here. Let us break you out.”

Ridwan didn’t respond, even as they continued to tug at their restraints.

(Rivers of red trickling across white marble.)

“We’re not here to use you,” Auster said gently. “We just—we want to help you.”

“Yeah right,” Ridwan scoffed. “If you wanted to help, you’d go downstairs.”

(The ka-shink of a metal blade zipping through a crack in the floor.)

Okay, so I think negotiations have failed, Peter remarked. I say we move to plan B.

And what’s that? Joshua snarked. More therapy?

Peter didn’t respond. Instead, he turned to Ridwan with exaggerated solemnity.

“Guess we’re gonna head down like you asked,” Peter said sadly, giving Ridwan a casual little wave. “See ya on the flip side.”

(A tiny body crumpled to the ground.)

Ridwan simply scowled at them in reply—and then, before any of them could react, Peter marched out of the room, forcing them to follow. He didn’t stop until he was a little distance away from Ridwan’s cell.

“What was that?” Rae hissed. “You’re not seriously thinking of going back down there, are you?”

“Nah.” Peter shook his head. “I just figured we’d be better off strategizing somewhere where Ridwan couldn’t bite our heads off.”

A frown crossed Auster’s face at that. It made sense—but the fact that Peter had acted on his own without warning them was irritating.

(Rivers of red trickling across white marble.)

“So?” Joshua said thinly. “What’s your oh-so-excellent plan B?”

“Simple,” Peter replied, unbothered by Joshua’s ire. “We need to get Ridwan executed.”

(The ka-shink of a metal blade zipping through a crack in the floor.)

Auster balked. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, but I am,” Peter said calmly. “This hinges on what Rae said earlier—about how things would’ve been better if Ridwan died first and awakened the power to save Silpa.”

(A tiny body crumpled to the ground.)

“Well when you put it like that, it sounds horrible,” Rae said dryly. “But seeing how resigned Ridwan was acting back there, I think they might actually believe it.”

“And we’re back to idiotic martyrdom,” Joshua muttered. “I hate it when you’re right.”

(Rivers of red trickling across white marble.)

“What’s this?” Peter gasped. “Joshua agrees with me?”

“I agreed with a part of what you said,” Joshua said sourly. “Which is not the same as agreeing with you.”

“Damn. I guess that’s too much to ask,” Peter lamented. He turned to Rae. “Say. Do you think you can—”

“Ohhhh no. I see where this is going.” Rae crossed xyr arms, clearly unimpressed. “And the answer is no. For me to switch places with Silpa, attune to Ridwan, and then switch with Ridwan so they take her place—that’s at least thirty seconds. There’s no way for me to time that so Ridwan dies instead of Silpa. I’ll get skewered.”

(The ka-shink of a metal blade zipping through a crack in the floor.)

“Well, yeah. I figured as much,” Peter said with a shrug. “But what if you could switch that quickly? If you had a little extra speed—what then?”

“You… want me to give Rae some of Josh’s speed,” Auster said slowly. “That’s it, right?”

“Yep!” Peter said cheerfully. “So. You up for the challenge?”

(A tiny body crumpled to the ground.)

“I, um. I mean—we know I can do it,” Auster stammered. “It’s just—”

“I can handle the strain, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Joshua cut in, his jaw set in determination. “Just be quick.”

Rae huffed out a laugh. “Don’t worry. I’m pretty sure I only get one shot at this, anyway.”

(Rivers of red trickling across white marble.)

“Good luck!” Peter sang. “I’ll try to use my telekinesis to save you if things go wrong, but considering how that went for Silpa, Joel’s probably a better rescue line than me.”

Th-that’s not very reassuring, Joel said weakly. But, um—I’ll try my best.

Auster inhaled sharply. The tremor in Joel’s voice reminded him too strongly of years-old memories, of hiding in closets and whispered reassurances and pretending to do homework with Joshua so the two had an excuse to hide from their father.

(The ka-shink of a metal blade zipping through a crack in the floor.)

Don’t worry about it, Joel, Auster said firmly. It won’t come to that.

And if it does, you’re going to ask Kai for help. Rae spoke slowly, enunciating every syllable, and it gave Auster the impression that maybe they’d had a similar conversation earlier this week.

Don’t worry, Kai said coolly. I’m watching. Joel, can you keep an eye on Ilia?

R-right! Joel squeaked. O-oh. Oh god. What on earth is she—

(A tiny body crumpled to the ground.)

“Annnnd that’s our cue to maybe get the ball rolling,” Peter interjected. “Just in case we have to bail Team Mateen out for whatever reason.”

Auster didn’t really like the sound of that, but he pushed his worry down for the moment, focusing instead on calling bubblegum pink light to his fingertips. The scenery around him took on varying shades of lavender and indigo as his vision flickered to life—and now he could see Joshua’s cargo green alongside Rae’s rich purple, slightly lighter than the color of plums.

(Rivers of red trickling across white marble.)

“I’m, um—I’m gonna connect the two of you now,” Auster said haltingly. “Just let me know if anything feels weird.”

“Right.” Joshua leaned against the wall, teeth gritted in preparation for the energy drain. Auster nervously licked his lips. There was a very real possibility that he could hurt Joshua if he didn’t ease into this slowly enough—but he could also hurt Rae if he didn’t maintain a strong enough connection between their powers.

A lot was resting on Auster’s shoulders.

(The ka-shink of a metal blade zipping through a crack in the floor.)

With one last deep breath, Auster tapped into the overlap between Rae’s dark purple and Joshua's darker green, and with slow strokes, he blended the two together into a muddy gray. As Joshua’s green bled into Rae’s aura, Auster centered his focus on slowing the process, allowing only a small portion of Joshua’s energy to fuel Rae’s powers.

(A tiny body crumpled to the ground.)

“Is that enough?” Auster asked, his voice strained.

“I… think so,” Rae said hesitantly. “Peter, can I have—”

“On it.” Peter materialized a handful of limes and sprinkled them around for Rae to practice with. For a few seconds, Rae blinked in and out of existence, switching places with the scattered fruit to gather his bearings—and then he turned to Auster with a resolute nod.

“I think this will be enough.” Rae’s mouth was a thin line, xyr eyes filled with grim determination. “I’ll be quick.”

(Rivers of red trickling across white marble.)

And then xe was gone. Auster’s heart hammered against his ribcage as he focused on keeping the connection strong between Joshua and Rae. Rae felt further away, so it was a lot harder to manage. Spots danced before his eyes. He felt like he was going to faint.

(The ka-shink of a metal blade zipping through a crack in the floor.)

And then everything went black.

~.~

Three days. That was how long it had been since Ridwan had seen the sun. The acid sting of betrayal was still fresh in their mind, and with each second they spent in this dark, stuffy cell, a deep resentment festered in their breast. They had gone to such lengths to live up to everyone’s expectations, only to be stabbed in the back. Everyone had turned on them—their parents, the Temple, the world—and that meant they were all alone now.

Well. Almost.

Ridwan’s cellmate was a quiet little girl, several years younger than them, with dark skin and long, frizzy hair. Ridwan couldn’t sense a lick of Karai’s power in her—and that just made them even angrier, because she was completely powerless, and her wide-eyed fear was so horribly similar to the way Amir and Jamal looked when they hid behind Ridwan and asked them to “fight off the big scary bullies, brother!”

Ridwan ached to comfort her. They didn’t know how. They only spoke Arabic, and she only spoke… the name of the language didn’t really matter, because Ridwan couldn’t understand a single word of it. The two of them couldn’t communicate.

Not verbally, at least.

Ridwan’s shackles were designed to drain their energy every time they used their powers, but after a few hours, they figured out how to activate their telepathy in short spurts—and that’s how they learned the little girl’s name (Rukmini), her favorite color (purple), her favorite food (some crunchy snack with a name Ridwan couldn’t pronounce), her favorite place (the beach).

Ridwan learned that Rukmini had a little sister named Silpa, and the two liked to try to braid each other’s hair, except Silpa’s hands were too small for her to be good at it yet, so Rukmini’s mom had done her hair up all nice for today, because she was supposed to get summoned by the Temple, see, and that was a really big deal!

Ridwan learned that unlike their parents, Rukmini’s hadn’t known.

By the end of day two, Ridwan was just about ready to murder every single person on the council for throwing this sweet little girl in prison. She was too young to understand what was happening. She still thought someone was coming to save them.

Ridwan somehow doubted that.

And now that day three was reaching its end, Ridwan could see that Rukmini was starting to doubt it, too. She had an absolutely dismal look on her face as she helped Ridwan eat from their shared meal tray—a necessity, since Ridwan’s hands were chained to the wall (and hers weren’t, because what could a powerless seven-year-old girl possibly accomplish?). As Rukmini set the empty tray aside, almost wilting in despair, Ridwan made a decision.

Teach me to braid your hair.

Rukmini gestured to Ridwan’s shackled hands with a confused frown. Ridwan gave her a cocky smile in reply, as if to say “try me.” In truth, they’d never even attempted something like this—but seeing Rukmini’s wide-eyed anticipation, they knew they couldn’t afford to fail.

With a slow exhale, Ridwan centered their focus on the mental image of an indigo flame, flickering at their core—and then they directed the flame’s glow outwards, towards Rukmini’s hair. Rukmini gasped, eyes sparkling with delight, as Ridwan guided a few stray curls over her shoulder.

A slew of images flooded Ridwan’s mind—memories of Rukmini’s mother gently moving her tiny hands through a braiding motion. Ridwan did their best to replicate the technique, but they’d never really braided hair before, and it was hard enough to manipulate Rukmini’s hair from a distance, especially with their shackles draining their energy.

More than once, Ridwan lost their grip. Each time, Rukmini gave them an encouraging smile—and it was bright and innocent and real in a way that only intensified Ridwan’s bitter resentment at the adults who’d thrown the two of them into this situation.

They’d pay for this. All of them.

Ridwan had a throbbing headache by the time they managed to finish a semi-passable braid. It was messy and lumpy and not quite right, but Rukmini didn’t seem to care. She draped her new braid over one shoulder so she could examine Ridwan’s work, her fingers tracing the shape of the weave with gentle care—almost like she didn’t want to mess it up.

While Rukmini was distracted with that, Ridwan sank back with a pained hiss. Spots danced before their eyes. They could taste bile in the back of their throat, and they were drenched with sweat, and each tiny bit of light and sound sent shards of pain through their head. They’d pushed themself too far.

Ridwan was halfway unconscious when a pair of tiny arms wrapped around their waist. They jolted awake. Rukmini had at some point pulled them into a half-hug of sorts, which was kind of difficult given the way they were chained to the wall, but her grip was tight and stubborn.

You… like it?

Ridwan’s telepathic message was barely audible—a result of their inability to think around their excruciating headache. It was hard enough on a good day to distill thoughts well enough to overcome the language barrier between them, to the point that Rukmini’s messages always took the form of images—so Ridwan was taken aback when her voice rang loud and clear in their head.

Thank you, abang! You’re the best!

Abang. An unfamiliar word—but the thought came wrapped in a mix of admiration and love and awe that was all too familiar. This was the word for older brother.

Ridwan did their best to plaster a smile on their face, even as something cold gripped their heart, because for this message, of all things, to cross the language barrier—she must have truly believed it with all her heart.

But Ridwan didn’t deserve that honor.

A real older brother would’ve broken her out of this horrid place by now. Ridwan wasn’t even strong enough to try.

~.~

Auster struggled to breathe around Ridwan’s crushing guilt. It was a feeling he was all too familiar with after his childhood years, spent watching Joshua and Joel struggle to avoid their monster of a father. All he could do back then was offer them refuge at his house and play damage control and try to keep their smiles up, but it never felt like enough. And so he’d watched them fade over time.

Joel had been around Silpa’s age by the time things hit their peak—and then the Tenine brothers had vanished, just like that.

“H-hey. Aust. Can you—”

Auster snapped to attention. His hands were still glowing, and—oh. Oh. He hastily extinguished the light as he scrambled to help Joshua stay upright. Auster threw one of Joshua’s arms around his shoulders and hooked his arm around Joshua’s waist, allowing Joshua to lean against him.

“S-sorry!” Auster said quickly. “Sorry. I—I forgot.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Joshua said wearily. “It’s not like you could’ve turned it off while we were watching Ridwan’s trauma.”

“...Right.”

And that’s when Auster realized he couldn’t hear Ridwan’s screaming. Or Silpa’s. Or the sound of that metal blade cutting through the floor. It was… silent. And the scenery had changed, too. They were no longer in a dark hallway, surrounded by empty prison cells. Everything around them had crumbled to ruins, leaving behind only the vaulted ceiling and the arched windows, opening out onto the quiet town of Isfahan.

“The marble had two colors in it.”

Rae’s voice echoed through the empty ruins as xe approached from the center of the room, xyr face streaked with dust and sweat. His indigo bracelet now held three beads—and one of them was flecked with lavender.

“Looks like we’re done here, then,” Peter remarked. “Let’s bounce.”

As Joshua fumbled in his pocket for his teleportation crystal, Auster looked out at the ruined hall one last time—at the faded tile, no longer streaked with blood; the empty space where the judges’ desk once sat; the observation window three stories up, now one of many holes in the far wall. Like this, it was impossible to tell what this room used to be—but Ridwan and Silpa would always remember.

And now Auster would always remember, too.

Previous

Next