Book One – Chapter 20

   I_f there was any true stronghold in the Barnstream settlements, it was three places.
One was the Grand Mausoleum in the north, where The Wizard with Six Arms kept to his solitude.
The second was the Harbour Guild to the south, a node of wealth, contracts, and reputation.
The third was the Human Habitat in Undertellems, its walls warded to withstand the worst witches and wizards of the age.

The Mausoleum wizard stayed out of everything.
The Harbour Guild was too far south. Though it cast a long shadow over the settlements with its far-reaching tendrils of commerce, distance blunted authority. Its influence reached deep through trade and obligation, but when violence came, it would come faster than letters or ships.
That left the Habitat as the last and only bastion between the northern and central settlements and whatever was gathering beyond the mountains.

If the syndicate wanted to strike, the estate would be the final defence, the gateway to control the north. Tria stood as its warden.
And Yu —

                           Yu was the key.

                  It was so obvious.
            It was so painfully obvious.
                        Of course they had planned for this.
                  They must have planned it all along,
                    from the moment Tria had sent her first letter to the guild.

                                  Now, it was clear.
                             Their plan. 

                                 And his place within it.

                    Yu needed to leave.
                              He had to escape.

          How could he?

               He could not.
                           Not openly.
               Not quietly.
        Not with the ulbatans on the lookout,
             not with Tirran’s uncanny senses.
                              There was no way past them.

         That meant,

                    He had to leave 
                 when they
                          could not follow.

     If not amid open chaos —     
                                    an attack     an emergency
                                       a sighting of witches     a breach
                          something loud enough to fracture attention
       

          then during the Witching Hour?

            Under T̰́̇ͦ̀è̸̷̸̬̤̗̊_̸̵̰̦̗̒͜ȟ̗̍ͤa̶͉͉͍̭̰̅̀̈͜ͅȓ̶̶̛̦͇͙̟̈̿͒ͮ͑̋̚͡u̟͖͔̖̙͙͆̄̿ͩͧ̃̽̓̈̌̀͟͞n’s darkness,
       when magic was restrained 
                                   and senses dulled?

                   Would they dare to leave the guild then?

             Would he?

                                      Could he?

           Could he find the shelter,
              where the ker and the witch had withdrawn?
 He only needed to make it that far.

       The ker had appeared to lead the group.
            The witch had seemed . . .

                                               . . . restrained.

                                     Almost as if . . .

                                                                    . . . as if she could be reasoned with.
                      She was some sort of deserter. That much had been said.
                                 Or implied.  No, she had said it —
                                                                   Wait, no, it was the ker.
                                           True, but still. It meant something.
                                                         Desertion.

                  Perhaps she was . . .

                                                            . . . a reasonable witch?
                               That sounded very wrong.

                                  Maybe it was all a ruse,
                                         maybe it had all been pretence;
                                                                  her youth,
                                              the lowered voice,
                                                         the compliance,
                       the careful stillness of someone
                  who knew exactly how dangerous she appeared,
                                 and how necessary it was to appear less so.
       Someone desperate for shelter, and skilled enough to understand
           what kind of harmlessness others were willing to believe.