Rhian, Palisade

While going over the events with Michael on the day of my trial, I might have failed to mention a few of the finer details. One of those details was the bit about Strauss making my knees weak. Even though Michael was one of my best mates and wouldn't judge, it felt wrong sharing something so private when someone else's feelings were involved. Also, there were enough rumours circulating about Strauss. I wasn't about to add to them. Not that I thought Michael would gossip, but some things ought to be kept sacred. Not to mention, having feelings for an outcast priest-in-training wasn't the most brilliant idea I'd ever had. Under Palisade law, nothing could come of it. We were expected to stick to our own breed. Besides, it didn't change anything about the outcome of the story.

Michael was more interested in what happened next, anyhow.

The man basically lived for attending my trials. There'd been more than a few over the eight years we'd known each other. I'd have never heard the end of it if I hadn't invited him to this one. Also, he made me look better. Michael Reider was a stand-up Partisan with a spotless record. There was something to be said about that.

The reason me and Gus were in Delphia was simple. The Assembly caught wind of a band of Palisade defects hiding out on the Isle of Inspiration. We were warned to expect at least twenty, and seeing as it was just the two of us, we weren't meant to kill them. We were only meant to find them.

"So basically, your job was to do your job," Michael said.

"Aye, nothing we haven't done a thousand times afore."

"Other than locating the defects, did you have any other direct orders?"

"That's the difference between our kind of job and your kind of job, Commander, Sir, Michael, Sir. In our line of business, orders are a lot like my rights."

Michael chuckled. "Discretionary?"

"Exactly." I nodded. "Bottom line, once we found their hideout, we were meant to notify Councilwoman Kelly so she could send a group of Chasers out after them."

"Did you have a plan?"

"We weren't given a lot to go on, so no, we didn't have a plan. But we had some ideas. We thought about questioning some of the local shops—mainly food stalls and whatnot. The defects had to be sustaining themselves somehow."

"Makes sense, but wouldn't it be risky to put themselves out there like that?"

"Right," I said. "We didn't figure they'd be hanging around the market, shopping for snacks willy-nilly. We—"

"Speaking of snacks," Michael said. "What do you have?"

I always kept something stashed away in my satchel for him. I tossed over a dusty red apple. Michael bloody loved apples. He took a big bite.

"Anyhow—never mind the shopping, we were looking for theft patterns around town that might give us a clue. Reckoned they wouldn't be traveling far from their base."

Michael nodded. "Okay, that seems reasonable."

Stolen novel; please report.

"Aye, we're reasonable people, Michael. The thing is, after having a hard think on the matter, we knew there had to be another layer."

Michael Reider was a charming man with a lot of upsides. He also had a lot of downsides. One of them was talking with his mouth full.

Crunch, chew, chew. "What do you mean?"

"The defects we had on our list had been on the run for years," I said. "Some of them for more than five. Partisans don't last long on the lam without making friends along the way. There had to be Barrens in their circle."

"Okay, but I don't see how that's helpful."

"It's helpful so far as we realized questioning random people wouldn't be our best approach. We couldn't trust the Barrens, and talking to the wrong one could unravel everything. The more defects involved in these sorts of jobs, the more complicated it gets. Unless the leader of the operation kept them under constant observation, they'd all have their own connections, motivations, and their own shares in the game. Like a goddess-be-damned spiderweb. Anyhow, seeing as we were a day early—"

Of all the things that could have interrupted us in that exact moment, I doubt either of us expected a knock at the door.

"Are we supposed to answer that?" Michael asked.

I shrugged, and then Michael shrugged, and then he stood up and opened the door.

Most Amali Partisans didn't need to know Andrei Strauss to recognize Andrei Strauss. He was a bit of a legend for being such an excellent fuck-up that he was tossed in a silver cell for half a decade. Also, he was the only half-breed Amali most of us had ever seen. He stood out against the pure-breeds like a naked man in a snowstorm.

Strauss peered over Michael's head. He was taller than most Amali, but he was still shorter than most Celestian. Ten to one, he was wondering where everyone was. I spotted him eying the torch in the corner dubiously and whatnot.

"Am I late?" he asked.

"Well, I guess it depends why you're here," Michael said. "They're on lunch."

Strauss handed Michael a slip of paper. I chewed on my lip while he read it.

"That's weird." Michael gave the paper back. "But okay. Come on in."

Strauss and I had a lot more in common than it might seem straightaway. He had his own complicated history with the Assembly, so I reckoned he felt a lot less nervous stepping into that room than most Partisans would do. After closing the door behind him, he joined us on the floor in the middle of the room. I tried keeping things casual, but it was hard not to stare. I'd felt a certain way about him long afore I'd met him in person. I was still getting used to how much I liked his face.

According to the letter I couldn't read anyhow, Councilwoman Kelly summoned Strauss to speak as a witness in my defense.

"Reckon they know?" I asked him.

Michael looked between us. "Know what?"

Strauss shook his head. "I think we both know where I'd be if they knew."

"Knew what?" Michael looked between us again.

"Eh—I'm tired of talking," I said. "Strauss can pick up where I left off."

"I'd love to, Sinclair, if only I knew where you left off."

"Your timing couldn't be more perfect, actually. We'd just arrived at the church…"

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