"Ana? What—?!"

Ana didn't wait to hear the rest of Kaira's question. She knew where Messy was. She felt her fear. That was all she needed to turn and break into an all-out sprint, her boots digging deep furrows in the packed dirt as each stride shot her forward by a dozen feet or more. She didn't know what was happening, and she didn't care. All she knew was that she needed to get to Messy before it was too late.

In the same direction were Waller and his cronies, Dil and Sendra, and Deni. From them Ana got… not fear. A vague sense of confusion, perhaps, but it didn't feel like they were in any danger themselves. The only one who she didn't get anything from was Trig. Trilgayeri wasn't confused. Nor was she afraid.

Trig? Why the hell wasn't Trig…?

It came to Ana, as she took a vaulting leap over the middle line of tents, that she didn't know much of anything about the unassuming woman. She was one of Waller's cronies, but she didn't make any trouble. No muss, no fuss. She followed orders quickly and effectively, and didn't argue with anyone in charge. She seemed happy with that.

She'd never so much as looked funny at Ana, but then, Ana hadn't paid much attention to her either.

South of the tents was a flat field; not a clearing but a natural meadow. That must be where the wounded had been taken, because Ana could see Touanne approaching down the slope at a jog, along with Jancia and Simt and a throng of civilians. There were already quite a few people standing around, though, split clearly into two groups. On one side were Waller and Sylt, backed by all of Ana's present Party members except Messy and Trig. With them stood several others from the militia. They were facing off against a sizeable group of militia, volunteers, spearmen, and non-combatants, all brandishing weapons and many of whom shouldn't have been there yet.

At the front of that group Messy stood, Trig behind her with a hand bunched in her braids.

It took seconds for Ana to see all this and cover the short distance between the tents and the triage area. She couldn't hear anything over the wind in her ears and the pounding of her own heart. It looked like Sylt was trying to talk a furious Deni down from intervening, and Waller was gesticulating angrily to Trig, but Ana couldn't hear what they were saying. Nor could she hear what Trig was shouting back. but when she came within fifty feet she came to a skidding stop as she saw the blade Trig held to Messy's throat.

"Trig!" Ana roared across the waving grass, putting all of her Intimidation and Command behind her words. "Let her go! What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

Trig flinched, but she didn't back down. She didn't remove the blade, or release her grip on Messy's hair.

"Here she is, Waller!" Trig said. "Here's the woman you betrayed us all for." Then she turned to Ana, and her voice wavered. "Ana, I'm sorry. I really am. But we can't let you do any more harm. This, here, was bad enough. You're gonna destroy everything! Don't you get that?"

"I don't know what line of bullshit you've been fed," Ana said, approaching cautiously, "but the world isn't going to end. And threatening Messy won't accomplish anything."

"The Lord of Order doesn't lie!" Trig spat. Messy tensed, and a thin trickle of blood ran down her throat as the blade nicked her skin. "I've prayed, and prayed. We all have, and always the same answer. You need to be stopped!"

"Okay," Ana said, changing tack and using a placating tone. "I can believe that. But could he have an incomplete picture?"

"No! He wouldn't allow this, he wouldn't encourage all this, if it wasn't absolutely necessary!"

"Alright. So what do you want, Trig? What do you need with Messy?"

"We don't need her. You know that we don't." Trig lowered her voice a little and said, her voice almost pleading, "Messy, I like you. You're misguided, but you're a good person, and I'm really sorry. I hate that this is necessary, and I hope that maybe you'll understand someday." Then she looked back to Ana and raised her voice again. "It's you that we want. You know that."

Thirty feet, Ana thought. She was thirty feet away. As long as she could close another fifteen—

Ana ate 12450 Points worth of crystals, raising her Class Level to 16 and increasing the range of Devotion by a foot. Another foot could make all the difference. She quickly opened her Summary and bought three Steps in her Charisma Multiplier for similar reasons. Not only did it increase her force of personality and boost several Skills, but it got her an Enhancement — a roll of the dice, but one that paid off.

Congratulations! Your Effective Charisma now equals or exceeds 50. You have gained the Enhancement Honest Face.

Honest Face: You're trustworthy, a straight shooter who believes that honesty is the best policy — or at least, that's what people think. Until given a reason to think otherwise, people you interact with are much more likely to believe that you are being honest with them.

As long as Ana could stop Trig from doing anything stupid before she closed another fourteen feet, Messy would have a chance.

"Alright, Trig, here I am," Ana said, still slowly approaching. "You have me. How do we do this? I need to know that you'll release her."

"No," Trig said, and Ana stopped. "That won't be necessary. We all know about your Ability, Ana. You take your Party mates' wounds. I…" Trig stuttered, shame and regret almost choking off her voice. "I've felt it myself. So here's what we're going to do. In five seconds, I'm going to cut Messy's throat. It's up to you what happens then."

"You hurt Messy and I'll melt your treacherous face off!" Deni shrieked from behind Waller, as Sylt physically restrained her from doing anything.

Ana barely heard her. Her world had shrunk to a small circle surrounding her partner and the traitor holding her.

Messy looked at Ana, her tears leaving long, black and crimson streaks down her cheeks as every part of her begged Ana to stay where she was. Ana locked eyes with her then smiled sadly.

"Alright, Trig. And then you'll let her go?"

"If she's still alive after that, I swear by the Sentinel that neither I nor anyone with me will harm her."

"Angel, don't!" Messy sobbed, and another drop of blood slowly made its way down her neck, leaving a second streak beside the first.

"Sorry, Mess," Ana said. "Thank you for making me feel whole for a while. Trig, you have a deal. I need to be within fifteen feet, alright?"

She started walking forward slowly, counting down the distance.

"Good," Trig said, the relief pouring off her. "For what it's worth, Ana, I truly mean it. I'm sorry. You saved my life. I wish it didn't have t—"

Trig never got to finish.

At just inside sixteen feet, Ana made her move, and one word passed through her mind: Empty.

Trig's final words cut off as her head jerked back, a spatter of blood and brain spraying across the side of her hostage's face. She collapsed onto the sodden ground, and Ana felt a line of fire along her throat as the blade slid harmlessly along Messy's skin. She barely heard Syltfer's pained scream or Sadie's shocked gasp from off to the side.

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In one motion, smooth enough to make an instructor weep with joy, Ana had drawn her gun, released the safety, racked to chamber her last round, aimed, and fired. With the other half of her Split Focus she'd left the Party she shared with Trig, pulling Messy along with her. The loss of sixteen Points of Vitality and Endurance momentarily stunned the traitor, while ensuring that Ana didn't ventilate her own head instead of Trig's. Hell, she was pretty sure that she wouldn't have even been able to pull the trigger.

Ana was a decent quick shot, and every aspect was enhanced by her Dexterity, Perception, and Acuity. She still hadn't trusted herself to take the shot without Messy in range of Guardian Angel. If the shot had been bad Ana could either have taken it, or it wouldn't have been her problem anymore. Even on a good shot there was always the risk of what had just happened — despite her Vitality and having her protective Shaping active, Ana felt a trickle of blood run down her neck to mirror Messy's.

If it had been Messy, the blade would have laid her throat open.

The single report snapped through the meadow, followed by two clicks as Ana reflexively pulled the trigger a second and a third time, her aim following Trig down. The crowd stood watching in stunned silence, but Ana and Messy were both moving, Messy lurching forward as soon as Trig's grip loosened, Ana shoving Messy behind her as they met in the middle and putting herself between her and her erstwhile captors.

With not a trace of emotion Ana pointed the gun at the remaining traitors and gave them a simple choice: "Throw away your weapons and sit down, or I will put you down!" She was empty, but they didn't know that, and it wouldn't save them even if they did.

Only one of them tried to run. He made it all of twenty yards before Deni released her pent up anger at their betrayal. The blinding orb she sent his way blasted a smoking hole through his back and he ragdolled into the grass, thin smoke rising slowly from his burning tunic.

"Goddamn," Kaira whispered from somewhere behind Ana. "Nice shot."

The rest of the traitors surrendered. Not quietly; there were a lot of protests and despairing tears mixed in among the stunned or sullen silences. But they surrendered without resistance, and that was all that mattered. Ana needed to take care of her girlfriend; she didn't want to waste time breaking skulls until they got the message. "Can you deal with this?" Ana asked Kaira as Messy slowly came apart in her arms. "I don't think I can be trusted around them."

"Why would you do that?!" Messy sobbed into Ana's hair as she squeezed her close. "She could have killed you! Why didn't you just stay back? She could have killed you right in front of me, and used me to do it!"

"She would have killed you if I didn't," Ana murmured calmly.

"You'd get over it! I— I can't lose you. Not like that!"

It hurt a little to hear Messy say that, about Ana getting over losing her. It hurt all the more because Ana wasn't sure if she was right. Her Abilities and her high Connection had her all confused lately, making her care more, making her feel things she wasn't used to. Messy had a lower than average Connection, but when they were close the way they were most nights, the way they were now, Ana could feel things even from her. She knew what it felt like to love someone, and feeling that directed toward herself was intoxicating. That was the only way she could think of it. Being loved was like a drug, and she was addicted.

One thing Ana was sure of: whether she got over the loss or not, Messy was irreplaceable.

"You won't lose me," she promised Messy. "I'm not allowed to die, remember?"

Messy's voice was barely a choked whisper when she said, "But you want to leave."

"I do. But not until the end of the cycle. And I want— I need you to come with me, Mess. Can you do that? Can we talk about it, at least?"

Messy's only reply was to squeeze Ana tighter.

Waller approached from the side, stopping a few feet away. "Marshal," he said, and when Ana looked at him he looked lost in a way that she'd never seen him. The anger she was used to was there, but it was like it had no direction. "Anastasia. Mestendi, too. For what it's worth, I'm sorry. I didn't see her coming. Didn't even know she was with them."

"Yeah," Ana said. "Me neither. You're clear."

Touanne, who'd been approaching from duskward, had stopped when Trig and the runner died. When she recovered from the shock she went to each of them, and a deep part of Ana resented her for it. All she could do for them was to confirm that they were indeed dead, anyway. Ana's notifications told her as much:

Congratulations! Your Party has defeated: Human Scout (10). Based on your contribution, you have been awarded: Growth Crystal (Lesser). For fighting in the defense of your object of devotion, you have been awarded: Growth Crystal (Least) as a bonus.

That was all Trig's betrayal amounted to. Someone who'd been, if not a friend then at least a sister-in-arms, reduced to 150 Experience Points or two nights' lodging at an affordable inn. Such a damn waste.

Touanne stopped by Trig's body for a moment to speak softly with Sylt — Ana had been keeping some of her attention on him ever since Waller had released him. He'd run straight to his dead friend's side, but Ana needed to be sure that the man wouldn't do anything stupid. She needn't have worried; once Touanne was done comforting him, Waller had led Sylt away, leaving their dead friend behind.

Check if traitors can be saved and comfort their friends. That was just who Touanne was, and Ana reminded herself that it wasn't fair to blame a kind and compassionate woman for looking after everyone, no matter who they were. Now she was approaching Ana and Messy with concern and determination.

"You're hurt," she stated. "You're both hurt."

"Scrapes, small cuts, and bruises," Ana replied. "Nothing serious. Mess?"

"I'm okay," Messy whispered. "Thanks, Touanne."

"I would still like to deal with the cuts on your necks, if you'll let me," the Healer insisted.

"Okay," Messy said, and Ana saw no reason to refuse either.

Falk, Pirta, and others from all over the camp trickled in. They came running, jogging, or walking, alerted either by Ana's sudden departure or by the sharp, unfamiliar sound that had cut through the air. Ana left others to explain what had happened, and answered any questions curtly, if at all. As far as she was concerned her role in this was done. She'd brought them to the white obelisk. She'd broken the core of Karti's fighting force. She'd been a damn lightning rod for their enemy, who'd apparently thought it more important to catch Ana off guard and kill her than to prevent them from stopping Karti. Messy had almost died because of it.

Thunder rolled across the sky, along with a cold flash that made Ana's skin tingle and Messy shiver. But there was nothing Ana could do about that. She'd done her part. She was done. Done with Stasia, done being Marshal Cole. She wanted to be Ana. Maybe just be Messy's Angel for a while. That would be nice.

A team of pissed off combat Classers was quickly assembled to cart off the traitors. Ana studiously ignored them.

"Come on, Mess," she whispered. She reached up and wiped Trig's blood and brains off Messy's cheek with her sleeve. "Let's grab Sendra and get cleaned up a bit, alright?"

"Alright. Yeah. That sounds nice."

Sendra didn't take any convincing. Messy walked without trouble but had to be led anywhere Ana wanted her to go. They took one of the tents that hadn't burned, and there Ana stripped down first Messy and then herself to their underthings, and Sendra got them as clean as she could without heat or soap. Messy had streaks and patches of dried blood halfway down her chest where it had run inside her collar; Ana was worse. Her first thought on actually looking at her stained clothes was that she'd have to get rid of everything she'd been wearing, but maybe not. Messila the Laundress had gotten Ana's dress clean and bright again, after all, and a man had bled out onto that.

Getting back into their bloodied clothes felt a little like it defeated the purpose of getting clean, but Sendra was literal magic at drying things. A couple of good shakes and most of the gore flaked off — dry and blood-stained was not nearly as bad as cold and sticky.

"Thanks," Messy said to Sendra as Ana was lacing up her tunic. "This feels better."

"Getting clean always does," Sendra replied. She was mostly back to her normal, patient self; Ana had felt a calm growing in her as the Water-mage worked to get the blood off them. "Really, it was nice to do something normal to help. Gave me an idea, even."

"What?" Messy asked.

Sendra just smiled secretly and said, "Don't want to say unless it works out. I'll let you know if it does."

As they left the tent, Messy and Sendra turned their heads at muted cheering from the direction of the obelisk and drifted that way. Ana had heard it start up a few seconds earlier. She may have mentally clocked out from all responsibility, but if necessary she still would have helped wring the cultists dry of any knowledge they might have. It was nice to know that she probably wouldn't be needed.

"Is it over, do you think?" Messy asked as they looked at the mages who surrounded the obelisk, still working as they spoke animatedly amongst themselves.

"No," Sendra said, but she didn't sound concerned. "My guess is we're back to how it was before the Waystone was ever activated. It'll be a long, rough time getting everything stable again. But I'm fairly confident that we'll all see next week, if that's what you mean. We can focus on things like what to do about all those penned-up changelings, instead of just surviving."

"Goddammit," Ana said, sighing heavily. The changelings. The kidnapped, feral Earthlings. She'd pushed them to the back of her mind, but they were still there, waiting in their pens, and it wasn't like they could just ignore them or put them down. They had a ritual that worked. They could help them.

As little as she wanted to, Ana still had one responsibility to shoulder.

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