They spent the rest of that morning alternately thanking and encouraging Touanne and planning out the healing rituals for Jancia and the others — they were going to rope Simt and a few other casters into powering them, so that they could do all the rituals one after another. They’d bring in the other three Life mages still in the outpost, too, to back up Touanne. None of them were primarily Life, so they weren’t nearly as strong as Touanne, but according to the Healer it would all add up. She had also already laid the groundwork to scale the ritual up to cure more patients at once, which would be crucial if they intended to take prisoners.

  “The limiting factor will be stabilizing everyone once they’re cured,” Touanne had said. She was fidgety, her voice a little shaky, but she was fighting through it. “Despite my initial failures I still hope to fine tune the ritual so that Healing will not be necessary, but I’m not there yet.”

  Leaving Touanne’s to organize the rituals filled two other purposes. First, Ana had to show that she was alive and well. Everyone knew that she’d been infected with the same strange disease as Jancia and the crazies. Everyone surely knew that she’d collapsed, and that Touanne and Tellak had performed the ritual on her. Now she needed to be out there to let everyone see that she’d been healed. That their involuntary leader, the Chosen-by-happenstance of the Wayfarer, was still with them, and that the local Healer’s ritual was a success.

  Second, she needed to make sure that she had the support to force a full-scale migration from the outpost. Because that was what it would be. They’d have to leave a skeleton crew to make sure that the crazies didn't get in and somehow destabilized the Waystone further, but other than that they needed to take everyone. The small gardens and the chicken coops were nowhere near enough to feed everyone. The outpost relied on the farms, the forest, and deliveries through the Waystone for food, and now they were running out; it was as simple as that.

  She knew that she had Tellak and Touanne’s unconditional support. Petra’s as well. But she needed to be sure about the other officers. Wandak seemed like a lock-in, Simt and Halmer liked her and had never given her any trouble, and everyone else seemed to be on board, but she needed to be sure. And she needed to talk to Captain Pirta again; the captain had said that she’d reconsider supporting Ana if they were successful in relieving the farms, but whether she’d follow through remained to be seen.

  So, she made the rounds. For hours she went around, Messy in tow, finding and talking to militia officers, the three Life-mages, and anyone else she recognized as having pull in the Outpost. They started at the baths, for the simple reason that Ana desperately wanted one, and while it was a place for hygiene and relaxation, it was also a place people talked. Then they visited the Temple, telling Mamtass that the time had almost come. They went to the Exchange, putting on the charm with Yildim and his colleagues. And they visited Administration, talking to Drisa and as many others as she could. And anywhere they went, Ana was fully honest about her intentions: she was going to lead them all out into the forest, to break the siege and rescue Captain Falk and the rest of his expedition.

  People were shocked. People were unsure. People were scared. And Ana shamelessly flattered and cajoled, bargained and bribed, appealed to their pride, their religion, their better nature, or their fear. She leveraged every point of Charisma and every Level of Acting, Charm, Negotiation, and Intimidation she had, and she left every group or person she spoke to at least saying that they were with her.

  “I want you all to begin preparations immediately,” she told each of the officers, “Speak to your teams. Tell them to spread the word. I want the whole outpost getting ready to move in the next few days. Can I count on you?”

  Every one of them said that she could. Some were more convincing than others, but they all said it. And if nothing else, the whole exercise was a goldmine of Skill Levels.

  Gods have mercy, she was becoming a damn politician. More of a Teddy Roosevelt than a Bill Clinton, perhaps, but still.

  With Messy’s help, Ana even swallowed her pride and went to find Waller, to give him her thanks for carrying her back inside the walls.

  “Yeah,” he’d grunted and nodded at Syltfer and Trigalyeri “These two assholes badgered me into it. Told me how you’re important enough we had to do something.” He shrugged, and took a drink from his ale. “Worked out, I guess.”

  “Still,” Ana said. “Thank you. All three of you. I didn’t expect anything from you, and you stepped up.”

  Waller shrugged. “Maybe I’ve heard some shit about Ran lately. Some people talking about him who didn’t dare to while he was still around. Doesn’t mean I believe you about what you said, just… maybe you’re not full of it.”

  “I’ll take it,” Ana said. She bought them a round on the way out.

  Just after sunset, Ana and Messy stood outside Administration. Tellak and Simt were performing the ritual to heal Jancia; Ana would have liked to be there, but they expected Jancia to be unconscious through the night afterward, like Ana had been. Besides, there were only so many hours in a day. Ana needed to talk to Captain Pirta tonight, and then she and Touanne would be healing Suren, and then they’d be continuing with the other infected.

  They had a long night ahead of them.

  They didn’t just show up at Pirta’s office uninvited. They’d visited during the day to request a meeting, and had returned later to be told when to return. This time, Drisa was waiting. Drisa, who was, when Ana thought about it, a Guild officer in her own right.

  “Do I have your support?” she asked without elaborating.

  “If you mean what I think, then yes. I don’t see what choice we have. But, Miss Cole? Ana? Don’t worry too much. The captain is not some tyrant. She’s a reasonable woman, who wants the best for this outpost and its people. Keep that in mind.”

  Ana worked very hard to keep that in mind as she sat across the desk from Pirta, enduring her inscrutable stare. And it was one hell of a stare, coming from a nine foot tall, Level 40-plus woman who was hundreds of years old.

  Pirta didn’t look angry. Not with Ana, certainly not with Messy, and not in general. She looked tired, and not much else. Frankly, this was better than expected. Ana had expected anger and hostility, a refusal to honor their verbal agreement. Possibly violence. But as Pirta sat up straight, laced her fingers on the desk, and sighed, none of those seemed forthcoming.

  “Miss Mestendi. Good evening. Miss Cole. I’m glad to see you on your feet. I was concerned when I heard that you’d been infected.”

  I’m sure you were, Ana thought sarcastically, though there was nothing in Pirta’s tone to suggest that she was being anything but honest. “Thank you, Captain. It’s only thanks to Mistress Touanne’s hard work that I’ve made a full recovery.”

  “And I hear that she’s doing much better, now that the ritual works. I’m glad. I was worried about her. She’s always been a sensitive girl.”

  “But she arrived here at the beginning of the cycle. Did you know her before?” Messy asked, leaning forward slightly and sounding genuinely curious.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “I did, in fact. Long before. I’m good friends with her parents, and I like to think that I played some small part in her choosing to come here. I’ve known her since she was a child, though I never met her often until she was well into adulthood.”

  Pirta sighed. “But we’re not here to speak about Touanne. Miss Cole. Anastasia, if I may?”

  Ana nodded, and Pirta inclined her head in response.

  “I told you before that if you could successfully rescue one family of farmers, I would consider your plan to take the whole outpost on the warpath. Today, only one farm remains cut off, and while we’ve had injuries, there have been no deaths. Together with the success of Touanne’s ritual, I see no reason to oppose you. Assuming, that is, that we do this methodically and in an organized fashion.”

  Ana was about to reply, but an excited Messy beat her to it.

  “You’re not fighting her?” Messy was half out of her chair when Ana caught her shoulder and firmly sat her back down. This was not the energy Pirta needed tonight. “Captain, I mean. That’s fantastic! I—”

  Pirta looked down on her with the same tired patience she’d shown Ana before the conversation even started, and Messy wilted, offering a chagrined “Sorry.”

  “I was under the impression, Miss Mestendi, that you are here as moral support for your friend. But your apology is unnecessary. I am, indeed, not going to try to fight this. Nor do I wish to any longer. I have spoken to those of my officers and friends who remain here, as well as to Mamtass, and they agree that there is little hope for us if we remain here. I have lived long. I have seen and done much. And one of the things I have learned, one of the things which makes me qualified to hold the rank of Captain in this Guild, is how to discern when to trust my own judgment, and when to defer to others. In this case, we cannot afford for me to put my pride before the collected wisdom of a dozen others.”

  Some of the tension in Ana’s shoulders released as Pirta spoke. Her hand found Messy’s, and she gave it a soft squeeze as looked up at the towering elf. “Thank you, Captain. I don’t think I can express just how relieved I am to hear that.”

  “You intended to go through with it, with my support or without it.”

  “Yeah.”

  “It would have been mutiny.”

  “I guess so. But I’d rather survive and face the consequences than die here, trapped like rat.”

  “I would have killed you, you know. If I’d been convinced that you were leading my people to disaster. It would no doubt have torn this outpost asunder, and Touanne would have never forgiven me, but as you say: I’d rather survive and face the consequences.”

  Pirta delivered each statement with calm certainty, and Messy’s grip on Ana’s hand tightened. Ana herself did her best not to go rigid. There were several people in the outpost that Ana still believed could kill her if they put their minds to it. Pirta was at the top of the list. It was in how she held herself, and in how she moved, every motion graceful and efficient. If Pirta had said no here, tonight… well. She hadn’t.

  “It’s for the best that we’ll never know how that might have played out,” Pirta continued, with the same weary calm. “How far have you come in your preparations? I’m sure that you’ve already started. I’d be disappointed if you hadn’t in fact.”

  “I’ve made sure that I have the support I need. The officers, the militia, and some other important members of the community. And I’ve gotten the word out to start preparing. That was only today, though. I doubt anything’s happened yet.”

  “Better than nothing,” Pirta sighed. “I’ll get my clerks on it. Drisa helped organize the initial settlement, and your efforts are better spent elsewhere. And I’m calling a town meeting at the square tomorrow morning. A display of unity should go far in solidifying support among the members.”

  “That— yeah. Thank you, Captain.”

  “Very good. I’ll see you on the square, tomorrow, then. Say, two hours after sunrise. Good night, Miss Mestendi. Anastasia.”

  The dismissal was so sudden that Ana hesitated, but Messy didn’t. Under the captain’s expectant gaze, Messy pulled Ana to her feet and out the door, walking as quickly as manners would allow.

  “Oh, gods, she meant it. She really meant it!” Standing outside, Messy was breathless. She hadn’t even said good night to Drisa; Ana wasn’t sure she’d heard Messy breathe once since they left the office.

  “She meant everything she said,” Ana agreed, starting slowly across the square. “Every word.”

  She was completely certain of that. She’d received a notification early in the meeting, and though she hadn’t looked at it, she’d been sure of Pirta’s candor and lack of hostility from that point on.

  Pirta had been tired, and unhappy with the situation, but her guard had been down. There had been nothing about her that suggested that she expected or intended for things to get ugly.

  “Could you…?” Messy trailed off, but Ana knew what she meant.

  “No, I don’t think so. If she ever came for me, my plan’s been to run for the forest and try to find Captain Falk and the others myself.” Assuming her last bullet didn’t take the elf down; Ana doubted it would be enough, unless she got very, very lucky. Besides, her gun was tucked away in her room at Petra’s, with the magazine and her last bullet hidden separately from the gun itself just in case someone — and her mind, perhaps unfairly, went to Mikkel — got too nosy for their own good. She hadn’t been carrying regularly for a while now.

  “You might have told me.” Messy sounded hurt, and Ana scrambled to figure out why before landing on the obvious. If she’d gone, she might not have had a chance to let Messy know what was going on, or where she was going. She’d have just disappeared, with or without fanfare.

  Ana stopped, taking Messy’s hands and looking up at her. Really looking. Messy was a chaotic mix of happiness, fear, relief, and betrayal. “God, I’m sorry, Mess. That’s on me. I wasn’t thinking. I’m just not used to having anyone care about me like you do, or having anyone be this important to me. Can I make it up to you somehow?”

  Messy gave her a half-hearted leer, then shook her head at herself and wrapped her arms around Ana. “Learn, and do better next time?”

  Ana let herself really relax again for the first time since leaving bed that morning, and melted into the embrace. “I think I can do that.”

  They stood like that until they’d both had enough, and Messy said, “Come on, Angel. The meeting went quicker than we’d thought, right? We should go see how the ritual’s going.”

  They snuck into the guardhouse through the door toward the yard. It was smaller and farther from the common room, and less likely to disturb Touanne and Simt. When they entered, Tellak barely looked up. She gave them a nod, then turned her attention back to Jancia who lay flat on her back in the middle of the circle. She was conscious, her arms and legs bound, and calm, staring at the air above her. Ana wondered if Touanne had given her something. Otherwise the only other people there were the three Life mages: a Courtesan, a Priest from the temple, and one of Sendra’s colleagues, another Evoker who worked at the baths and primarily focused on water.

  Tellak was anxious, even afraid, that much was obvious from her posture and her chewed thumbnails, a behavior Ana hadn’t seen in the pale woman before. She didn’t leave her chair, and she didn’t say a word, but that was no surprise. Ana had survived, but Jancia was, presumably, far weaker than Ana, and her infection had gone much further.

  Ana didn’t know how much of Jancia was left with all the crystals in her brain, but Tellak didn’t want to lose her. Following her example, Ana and Messy sat down silently to watch.

  They’d arrived toward the end of the ritual. The runes glowed brightly, and the spherical construct above Jancia was almost finished. The tension in the room grew as they reached the final stages, and ten minutes after Ana and Messy arrived the runes winked out, one by one, as they fed into the construct.

  “Oh!” Jancia said, her voice full of delight as the construct grew blindingly bright. She smiled, the first real smile Ana had seen from her, and it seemed to light up the room in a whole other way than the magic of the ritual. “Oh, yes!”

  The shining orb dropped. Jancia gasped, a drawn out guttural sound as her back arched, and she fell back onto the floor, eyes and mouth wide open, body spasming as the light faded. The three Life mages rushed in, Touanne only a moment behind them, and all four immediately went to work.

  It only took five seconds before Touanne’s triumphant cry of “Success!” Tellak threw herself forward out of her chair, practically tackling one of the Life mages in her rush to get to her friend.

  Ana and Messy left them to it. By silent agreement they walked around the group, helping Simt to her feet and leading her out into the square for some air. As the door closed behind them, Tellak was weeping with joy, repeating Jancia’s name over and over, letting out the fear and tension of three weeks of watching her friend waste away.

  “You did good, Simt,” Ana told the tiny Demi-Fae woman. Although, Ana reminded herself, she was apparently considered tall for her race.

  “I did the only thing I could,” the exhausted woman replied, giving them a tired smile. “But it was the right thing, so what’s the difference, right?”

  “Right.” Ana clapped her on the shoulder, then turned to Messy. “Mess, babe, could you make sure that Simt gets plenty of food and drink in her? We should get started with Suren as soon as we can.”

  “‘Babe’, huh?” Messy’s eyes twinkled, and Ana couldn’t tell if it was because of a language issue or because she’d never called Messy anything like that. “Call me that a few more times. Let me see how I feel about it. Come on, Simt. You like stew and ale, right?”

  As Messy and Simt turned the corner, headed for Petra’s, Ana thought about how damn lucky she was to have run into someone as understanding and reliable as Messy. She really needed to do better. Then she went inside, and they got Jancia to Touannes, and Suren to the ritual circle. And then they healed him, and it was another goddamn success.

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