"Are you sure it's wise to let him go?" Ihra plopped down beside him as they watched the bandit disappear into the woods.

"Not entirely," he admitted. "There's always a possibility that he found some way to trick my truth spell, but as far as I could tell, he was being honest when he said he wouldn't warn them. I know it's probably safest to kill him, but…" Jasper sighed. "Killing a helpless prisoner, especially after he surrendered to us peacefully, just doesn't sit right with me. Hopefully, he'll live up to his word and join that turncoat general."

If Ihra disagreed with his decision, she kept it to herself. Instead, she pulled out the map and spread it on the grass in front of them. "So, what do we do now? We could hit the nearest bandit camp," she pointed to the one a few miles away from them that had been the source of the ambush at the tavern. "They're already down a decent number of men, which would make the fight easier."

"Or," Jasper tapped his finger on the icon for Dūr-Sūqerbettû. "We could return to the castle, take Damqa into custody, and make sure no one hands it over to the stoneflesh."

"There's a third option, too." Ihra traced a line from the castle to the location where the bandit had marked the Ammatu's camp. "Maybe if we cut the head off the snake, the whole operation will collapse."

Jasper studied the map with a frown. He could make a good argument for each plan, but they could only pick one. Reluctantly, he retracted his own suggestion. "As much as I want to deal with Damqa first, maybe we should wait. The bandit seemed to think she was only working with the stoneflesh under duress; if we free her father first, she'd probably help us."

"Plus, we know there's at least one more traitor in the castle," Ihra agreed. "If we imprison Damqa without catching them, it might just accelerate their plans."

"Whatever those are…" Jasper rubbed his forehead wearily. "I don't understand why they haven't already taken the castle, which probably means there's a piece of the puzzle we're missing. But for now, I think we should hold off on returning to the fort."

He focused on the map again. So, should we strike the Ammatu's camp now, or take out the smaller ones first? The more he mulled it over, the more he leaned to the latter choice. If they still had the element of surprise, he would have preferred to try to deal with the Ammatu first. But she was already aware of their existence and, after they had been forced to fight their way free of the previous camp, she likely had a decent grasp of their abilities. Granted, she probably didn't know they knew the location of her camp, but as it was on the other side of the fort, they would be forced to pass through it on their way there, giving the traitor the chance to warn them.

No, he decided, catching her by surprise would be a difficult task at this point. The better option now was to weaken her first, destroy the other camps before she could use them to reinforce themselves. "I think we should take out the second camp," he said at last. "If we hurry, we can get there by night."

Nissilât stifled a groan as she elevated her body slightly and flexed her left leg. After an hour of lying on the rocky hill, the old injury on her thigh had flared up, leaving her movements stiff and tender. Just a little bit longer.

Despite having a good idea of the general location of the camp, it had taken the group some time to locate the actual hideout on the mountain. They'd circled the base aimlessly, looking for any signs of habitation, but hadn't seen much until the approaching dusk had allowed Ihra to spot a thin trail of smoke.

Following the smoke, they'd stumbled on a narrow ravine that eventually opened up into a sizable holler on the mountain's flank. The sheltered valley was surprisingly large, a few dozen acres at least, Nissilât guessed. A steady supply of water was provided by a small lake, which occupied nearly a third of the holler's area, while most of the rest was covered in a dense forest. A few acres, though, had been cleared overlooking the lake.

The old, crumbling manor there must have once been a nobleman's estate. From her vantage point on the small hill, Nissilât could still see the skeletal outlines of an abandoned maze in the back, still guarded by weather-worn statues of the gods, while a rotting dock slouched low across the waters. It was clear the manor had been abandoned for a long time - if she had to bet, a casualty of the Fey wars - but no longer.

The plume of smoke they'd followed had come from a group gathered on the beach around a large bonfire. It almost looked like they had prepared for a celebration - strings of fish and a whole pig were suspended above the flames, but Nissilat could recognize nervousness when she saw it. Some of them paced back and forth across the sands, others sat with their heads bent and their eyes unseeing, still more chattered with a frenetic energy as they cast quick, stealthy glances at the forest they were hiding in.

They were expecting their partners to have returned by now, she realized with a frown. As they hadn't attacked her, Nissilât was fairly certain they still hadn't spotted her, but the bandits' general state of unease complicated their plans. The group had decided, with a certain nudging from herself, to wait until the bandits fell asleep and burn down the mansion with them in it, but now she wasn't sure that would work. It was obvious the stoneflesh knew something was wrong and, even if most of them would eventually fall asleep, she was willing to bet that others would wait up all night in the hopes that their missing crew would return. We need a new plan.

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But as she massaged her stiff leg, preparing to crawl back to the others, movement caught her eye. Afraid she'd been seen, she plopped low to the earth, but relaxed as she saw who was approaching. A pair of bandits had snuck away from the bonfire, their purpose obvious from the way they clung to each other.

Satisfied she hadn't been seen, she crawled closer as their shirts flew into the bushes.

"We shouldn't do this…" the woman moaned halfheartedly as her partner nibbled at her neck. "If the others notice-"

"They won't. They are too worried about Rēmu's men to even realize we're gone. Bunch of idiots. I know Remu; the bastard's probably passed out in a tavern right now."

"I certainly hope so," the woman giggled coquettishly. "I don't know what he would do if he saw us together."

"That fool will never know," the man responded, as he shoved her pants down. His confidence faltered, though, as he saw his lover's eyes widen in terror. "Sa-"

The shadows bent around her as Nissilât surged out of cover and reappeared in between them. She was already pivoting as she plunged her dagger through the man's eye, killing him instantly. Abandoning the dagger, she wrapped both hands around the woman's throat, cutting off her scream. The two fell to the ground, wrestling for control, but Nissilât proved the stronger. Wrapping her legs around the bandit's torso, she held her in place until her eyes rolled back.

Good. Didn't get too much blood on them. It would have been easier to slice the woman's throat, but she'd strangled her for a reason. Stripping the woman's pants off with calm efficiency and retrieving her discarded shirt from the bushes, she exchanged them for her own clothes before dragging the two bodies deeper into the woods.

There, safe from prying eyes, Nissilât withdrew a small pouch from her bag and set aside an empty bottle and three vials of powder. Slicing the man's upper arm, she filled the bottle half full with his blood before mixing in the other ingredients. Finally, she shook it well and injected her essence into the potion until it turned midnight black. Once she was satisfied, she slipped it into her waistband, cleaned up the ingredients, and headed toward the bonfire.

She kept to the shadows as she approached the small beach, wary of garnering attention, but she'd been right to fear the bandits would be on high alert. No sooner had she set foot on the sand when a hand clamped down on her shoulder.

"Are you stupid, Tabīlah? When Rēmu gets back-" The man gripping her shoulder froze as he saw her face, and Nissilat struck without hesitation. Blood sprayed across the sand as her dagger tore through his throat, and he pitched face forward as she blurred out of his grasp.

His body hadn't hit the ground before Nissilat reappeared on the far side of the fire and, abandoning her failed attempt at subtlety, threw the vial into the flames. The clink of broken glass echoed as she blurred back into the night, jumping twice in quick succession as the bandits descended into chaos. Already, the bonfire's smoke had turned a deep black, and their shouts of alarm began to falter as the bandits bent over, coughing and hacking.

A fireball flew overhead and, realizing the others were joining the attack, Nissilât doubled back. "Stay out of the smoke," she called as Jasper flashed overhead, his spectral wings barely visible against the dark night sky, and then she reached the circle.

A stoneflesh emerged out of the smoke a few feet away from here, coughing violently as he struggled to open a familiar green vial. He didn't see her until it was too late. The vial fell unused in the sand as she rushed past him and leapt on the back of another bandit, sinking her dagger into his neck. She rolled with him to the ground, leaving him sprawled in the seagrass as she sought her next victim.

But she froze as she heard a roar behind her and, glancing over her shoulder, saw an unwelcome sight.

There was no mistaking the bandit Nissilât had strangled a few minutes earlier. If the woman's lack of clothing wasn't an obvious giveaway, the raw, red handprints around her throat left little doubt. Unfortunately, it wasn't the woman's eyes glaring back at her - or, at least, not just her eyes.

The amber eyes never left Nissilât as the bandit tossed the empty green vial in the sand and her muscles began to spasm. Kruvas̆.

Dipping into her already low reserves of essence, she blurred into the shadows and reappeared behind the woman, only to choke as an unnaturally meaty hand clamped around her throat.

She reached for her essence again, but the amber eyes brightened, and the shadows refused to welcome her into their grip. Panicking, Nissilât stabbed frantically at the abomination's arm, but as the stoneflesh woman continued to grow in size, she was unable to reach anything more vital.

"You should have killed me." The bandit didn't even seem to notice the canyon Nissilât had carved into her flesh, didn't even blink as she sawed against the bone. She tried again to blur into the shadows, and again the cursed eyes flashed. Dark lines swam across her vision as the abomination squeezed, only to suddenly release.

She dropped to the ground, blinking in confusion as a pair of severed arms rained down on her head, and then the night sky lit up. The crack of thunder drowned out all other sounds of the fight as the bandit spasmed in front of her, and a voice called from behind. "Duck."

Nissilât dropped low as a blade of wind whistled above her, and sent the woman staggering back. Its flesh was torn, its ribs crushed, and even its beating heart lay exposed, but the abomination, with a guttural growl, took a step closer to her. She rolled to her feet, frantically feeling around for the dagger she'd dropped, but before it could reach her, a swarm of pale fireballs hit it from the side and sent the creature flying through the air in a ripple of small explosions. Heart still pumping, she glanced around wildly, but her shoulders eased as she saw no more enemies. Was that it?

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