Rhian, Delphia

The most important factor to consider when hunting defects wasn't where they'd be hiding. The possibilities could be endless. Maybe they'd found a cave. Maybe they were holed up in a basement somewhere. Maybe they were living in a secret tunnel. Maybe they were all spread out, squatting in abandoned homes or living with allies. There's nothing subtle about snooping in random places, knocking on doors, and being wrong a bunch of times. There-bloody-fore, the most important factor to consider when hunting defects wasn't where they'd be hiding, it was what they'd be doing.

Most had a bone to pick with Palisade, so that was something we'd use to our advantage where we could. Some would seize opportunities to sabotage our jobs. Others would look for the chance to pick one of us off where they could. When dealing with individuals or pairs, they tended to lay lower. They were trickier to track.

On the other hand, multiples tended to feed off each other's bad blood with Palisade. The longer these groups were on the lam, the more restless they'd get. The more restless they'd get, the angrier they'd get. The angrier they'd get, the bigger sets of berries they'd grow. It wasn't as though they could get jobs, paint the town purple, have families, and live normally and whatnot. The life of a defect was about doing a whole lot of nothing. A whole lot of nothing gets boring fast. I could relate.

It'd been about three hours since we settled in on the roof at the bookshop. Thanks to Strauss, we knew the Tear would be arriving from Palisade in the middle of the night. We also knew if the defects were planning an ambush, they wouldn't do it right in front of the goddess-be-damned Drop. We chose the most likely location on the way to the church.

When we were kids, Gus and I designed our own language. We had a written version—made up of symbols. We had a spoken one, which speaks for itself, and we had a silent one—hand gestures and whatnot. We preferred keeping things private between us. The other kids at the orphanage weren't friendly, and we learned early on we could only rely on each other. Also, we didn't want anyone overhearing our plans to run away.

We had no way of knowing how much this would pay off as grownups.

While we waited, and waited, and chatted with our sign-language, we sipped a bit of Hocks from our flasks. Three hours is a long time, and a long time means a lot of sips. But whatever. I'd swear off drinking too much again next year.

Just as we were starting to think we were way too early or way too late, we got what we were waiting for. Our super-ears tuned into the sounds of heavy boot steps, clinking metal, and a few faraway people speaking a language I didn't understand. I recognized it as Amali.

"Blah, blah, blah… blah?" the man asked.

"Blah. Blah, blah, blah… blah blah," the woman replied.

Gus had a better education than I did. The Assembly had their sights set on him for something special early on. They made sure he knew how to read, and write, and that he knew enough of every language to get by in any territory. Whatever was being said, it wasn't important enough for him to translate.

When a third voice piped up, we each rolled our eyes. I couldn't understand the language, but I'd know that voice anywhere. Strauss.

"What's he doing here?" I signed.

"Escort," Gus signed back.

I rolled my eyes again. We couldn't change it, so we had to adapt.

Most likely, the church reckoned they were doing a diplomatic favour by sending a sort-of-Amali to meet the actual-Amali guards at the Drop. More likely, Strauss suggested it himself. Being bored makes people do strange shite. We've gone over that already.

When Strauss and the guards reached the crossroad, two Delphi Partisans stepped out from one of the side-streets. What can I say? We were good at our jobs, and even though we anticipated the ambush, we didn't expect the defects would send a pair of scrawny, well-dressed Delphi. We were expecting ruffians.

"Thank Delphia," said one of the defects.

"We were beginning to think we may have missed you," the other added.

The guards looked to each other, then to Strauss, then back to the defects.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. "Missed us for what?" the female guard asked.

The defect in the blue jacket handed her a sealed letter.

Strauss was itching to peep. I could tell. But from where he was standing, he wouldn't be able to pull it off without appearing nosy. After reading the letter, the female Amali guard showed it to her partner, and they both shrugged.

"Fine by us," she said. "It's been a long trip."

"Exactly, exactly," the defect in the blue jacket said. "That's why we're here, of course. But, as much as it's been lovely chatting, we're already late, and the Liaison will be expecting us back at the estate. We wouldn't want him to worry."

The Liaison was a Barren—Councilwoman Blanchett's primary line of communication between the people of Delphia and Palisade. It was interesting they were dropping his name. The two guards nodded, and the male traded the leather pouch around his neck to the defect in the green jacket.

"Blah, blah. Blah... blah?" Strauss said.

"Blah, blah, blah. Blah, blah," the woman answered.

Strauss addressed the defects next. "Why the change of plans? My understanding is that the Tear was to be kept at the church under Partisan protection."

Seemed the defects hadn't bothered preparing an answer for the most obvious question. Reckon they were expecting a pair of daft Amali soldiers who weren't too concerned about a foreign trinket and were none too pleased about being sent to froufrou-land to begin with. Had the defects been either more capable or desperate, they might have tried using mind tricks. But they were outnumbered, and not all Delphi Partisans had the skill for mind control. Telepathy wasn't exactly straightforward.

"Very well, the jig is up," the defect in the blue jacket said. "We are not actually here on behalf of the Liaison. We're here to steal the Tear."

Hells. The defects were digging their own graves, and we needed them alive. If you hadn't sorted it out yet, we didn't give two shites about the Tear or where it ended up. We were trying to follow them home. We got into position. The Amali guards unsheathed their swords, and Strauss took a step back.

"Ta, ta, ta—put those away," the defect in the green jacket said. "You think we're foolish enough to come here alone? There are archers, my friends, situated all around the city. Move against us, and you will die. Let us go, and we pretend this never happened."

In order to scout the most likely spot for an ambush, me and Gus had taken a grand tour of the city from the highest vantage points. Either these archers were invisible, they turned up some time conveniently after after we did, or the defects were bluffing. While Strauss and the two Amali guards seemed to be working out what to think, Gus and I exchanged a nod of solidarity. We leaped from the roof, somersaulted twice, and landed in the fray. Gus clobbered the defect in the green jacket. Meanwhile, I landed behind the defect in the blue jacket and pulled him into an arm-lock.

"I didn't see any archers while we were up there," Gus said. "How about you, Rhian?"

"Nope, just a couple of Strachan half in the bag." I pressed the point of my dagger against the defect's flank when he wiggled. "Also, I can think of about five ways to kill you right now, mate. So it's best you don't squirm. Or scream. Or piddle your pants. You'll regret it if you live. Tricky getting the smell out."

After snatching the leather pouch from the defect in the green jacket, Gus tossed it to the female Amali guard. "Don't forget your trinket."

Meanwhile, you might be wondering what Strauss was doing this whole time. If you must know, he was standing around looking a lot like that time I caught Michael with his hands in his pants. Look, I know I've used that comparison before, but it was too bloody funny, and I swore I'd never let him live it down.

Anyhow. I peered around the defect in my custody. "All right—hop to, shoo, piss off, go away, toodle-oo. We'll take it from here."

They might not have known us personally, but we had a bit of a reputation around Palisade. The Amali saluted us each in turn, and without another word, the two guards and their wide-eyed escort shuffled off in the direction of the church. Now, seeing as we still didn't want to kill the defects, and we weren't in a position to follow them home anymore, we needed a new angle. Lucky for us, Gus was a goddess-be-damned genius. After letting go of the defect in the green jacket, he opened his hand for all to see.

There, smack in his the centre of his palm, was a giant, sparkly, tear-shaped diamond.

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