A chill wind wakes me.  Afterimages burn against my eyelids.  I'm not quite conscious yet, and already the pain is rising as a dull, throbbing ache.  It makes me frightened of waking fully.  

I moan and twitch a finger, sending electricity fizzing in my bones.  Waves crash.  Birds call from somewhere in the distance.  The smell of salt and ash lingers in the air.  My memory dislodges visions of the forge being consumed by flames.  It hurts to think too much.

Pain flares.  I wince and pull away, but it doesn't end.  Claws scrape at my cheeks, digging, tearing.  My eyes snap open.  

The baherst whines and licks my nose.  Cool relief washes through me.  I let out a wheezing breath and try to stroke it, but my arm's pinned underneath a chunk of concrete.  The blue sky yawns far above.  Visions race through my mind: Arl ruined, buildings crumbled, lying in the basement and staring up at infinity.  

With an ache of sorrow, I realise that I've failed again.  I didn't find Meg.  I didn't prevent this disaster.  I'm so foolish, so childish, so powerless.

"That creature wanted me to follow it," somebody says, with a bitter laugh, "I can't believe it actually found you.  I thought you were dead."

"Who?" I rasp, my throat stinging.  A weight lifts from my arm.

"It's me.  Liar."  He shifts the rubble off me and sits on a wet log, breathing hard.  His eyes fix on the distant sea.

I struggle to sit up.  My arm is throbbing with pain and one of my pant legs is caked in dried blood.  The sun is unbearably bright.  A part of me wants to shut my eyes and fall asleep again.  I blink.  Crippled, blackened buildings surround us, their iron bones curled and rusted.  The city is devastated.  So many people must have lost their lives.

How did I survive?  I don't say it aloud, but Liar reads the question off my face.  "The master's presence gave us strength.  You would've burnt to death otherwise."

"What... what happened?"

He squares his shoulders and clenches his fists, lip curling into a scowl.  "Kath's dead.  Sal's division took over and won, somehow.  The master was wounded.  Firay wants to strike again, Gar doesn't.  Nic threw a fit and disappeared."

I don't have a clue how to react, to any of it.  It's too much.  I barely even knew Kath before she died, I only saw her once, and already she's fading like a ghost into the daylight.  A pang of grief fades when I remember all the ruthless things she's done.  I'll never be able to forget them.

"What about Meg?" I say, and my chest tightens.  I'm afraid to hear the answer.

"She's one of us now."

I grit my teeth and taste sickness, nausea.  Hot tears well in my eyes, and for once, I'm far too exhausted to blink them away.  They made her a changeling?  I can't cope, I could never cope.  I just can't.  I want to cry and scream and howl in shock, but my throat hurts far too much for that.  

Liar gives a frustrated hiss.  Somewhere, a hawk screams.

"Look, I'll keep my end of the bargain.  It feels right.  You cared about her too."

I gasp and blink hard, tremors wracking me.  "What?"

"The master found Nic first," Liar says, "It possessed him.  I dunno why he let it.  Maybe he felt like no one else cared for him.  I used to feel like that."

I sniff, barely processing what he's saying.  The baherst settles on my lap.  I stroke it, scratch its ears, run my fingers through its coarse fur.  I'm so grateful that it's here, that it cares for me, but somehow that makes me want to cry harder.

"It gave him the power to create other changelings.  You might have been the first.  He found Gar; she was a Hyaran scientist back then.  They built the master's body together, 'cause Nico was getting sick.  It was slowly eating his soul."

I wince.  The baherst licks my hand, shifts its position and starts to snore.  Sleep is stealing over me, warmth and rest and dreamless darkness.  Liar's voice is distorted, as if I'm listening from underwater.  "-it was a diversion.  So we could take Hyara.  If Firay killed Sal, we might have done it."

He swears and there's a splash, like he's kicking stones into the water.  Then his footsteps crunch against the gravel as he walks away.

*        *        *

When I wake again, a full moon is rising above the sea.  A breeze whistles through the ruins.  The air is harshly cold, cold enough to freeze in my throat and raise goosebumps on my arms.  Crickets sing in the velvet darkness.

The baherst regards me for a moment then climbs onto my shoulder.  I drag myself to my feet.  Pain shoots through my leg.  I cry out, scan the ground and pick out a branch amongst the debris.  It'll do as a crutch.  I lean forward and grab it, tasting blood.  Waves swirl and gnash at the harbour.  

The baherst whines.  A smile creeps across my face.  Together, we stagger towards the town.

It's a world of torchlight and rubble, purple shadows and soft, wounded voices.  Soldiers move like ghosts through the streets, crippled and bleeding.  Children stand behind stalls, handing  bowls of broth to the shuddering masses.  

My steps are weighted by sadness and the taste of tears still lingers in my mouth.  A part of me wonders what's giving me the strength to go on, then I chide myself.  The changelings still lurk on Hyara, Ellie's still fighting for her life and the fabric of the world is fraying.  It's not over.  There's nowhere to run to.

A sudden impulse grips me.  I draw my breath, fight back tears and head for the fortress.  My wounds scream.  My walking stick drags and scrapes against the pavement.  The baherst spreads its wings and glides above me.  I'm walking in circles through the labyrinth of streets by the time I notice the fortress, silhouetted against the sky.

Sal is waiting for me at the gates.  His veil is down, his hair matted and filthy.  His cloak billows in the wind.

"A lookout spotted you," he says.  His face is sallow with fatigue.

I say nothing.  The baherst settles in my hood.

"You want to come in?"

I nod.  We walk through a hallway with dark masonry walls.  Naked light bulbs flicker on the ceiling.  The chill of the night is seeping into my bones.

"Thank you," Sal says.

Panic rises and I cut him off.  "What happens now?"

He stops and stares out a barred window.  It overlooks a firelit courtyard, and a coffin surrounded by people in shrouds.  Stillness falls over us.  

She's really dead.  Is it my fault?  I realise with a hot sting of guilt that I still don't forgive her.  She destroyed Arl and took my only friend hostage.  Her voice was filled with pain when I spoke to her, but it doesn't matter, does it?  It will never outweigh the suffering she caused.

"They'll attack again," Sal says, "It's only a matter of time.  We have to be strong enough, smart enough.  After Arl, we joined Hyara to fight the changelings but..."  He falters and shuts his eyes for a long moment, his expression strained.  When he speaks again, he sounds strangely detached. "You have contact with the Emperor, right?"

"A-Alban?" I say.

He nods.  "Can I speak to him?"

I dig the communication device from my pocket, twist the knob and hand it to him.

There's a bout of static and a hiss like distant machinery.  Then Alban's voice, shrill with fear:

"Rami?  Where are you?"

Sal coughs.  "I'm Sal Tyar, of the renegades."

"Alright, just report.  Hurry up!"

Nervousness growls inside me.  I shiver and take an involuntary step forward, frightened I'll miss what Alban says next.

"Kath was killed, but my division took over and forced the changelings to retreat.  We have new information on their master.  Most of our weapons have been destroyed."

"We're under attack," Alban says, urgency plain on his voice.  

"In Rea?" Sal says.

"No, you idiot.  Birra's been attacked.  Can't you spare any forces?"

"So many are wounded," Sal says, weariness creeping onto his face again, "It would take too long.  What size is the invading army?"

"It's not an army," Alban says, then his voice mangles into a scream.  More static.  The device falls silent.  Sal and I stare at each other in the half-light.  

Something softens in his eyes.  He hands me a key on a dark iron ring.

"It'll take time," he says, "My allies are in no state to fight, and neither are Hyara's forces.  We'll send a messenger baherst to Birra.  You need to rest.  The key unlocks a bedroom in the fortress's North wing."

Nervousness festers between us.  I squeeze the key tight and turn to leave.

"Someone will tend your wounds," Sal says.  He looks away. "Rami, I'm sorry.  I was stupid in Druslyr.  People were relying on me to see the big picture, and I failed them."

But I don't look back.  I'm too tired.  I creep through the hallways until I find the room he spoke of.  There's little more than a prickly bed and a high frosted window, but I couldn't care less right now.  I hold the baherst in my arms, sink into the mattress and fall asleep.