Die. Respawn. Repeat.

With the strange change in Firmament density going toward Miktik's workshop, I was almost expecting the building itself to be shining with Firmament. It's not. It's barely different than it normally is — the Firmament is densest here, certainly, but that's the only real difference...

...No. The imbuement cycling through her walls is moving faster, too. The Firmament within it is noticeably more powerful. As far as I can tell, every bit of stray Firmament is being drawn into it, with nothing allowed to escape for Whisper to collect.

Interesting.

"I think we might be about to interrupt something," I say. I glance at Tarin. "Probably best if you go in first."

"I go first," Tarin agrees. I'm not sure if it's because he agrees with the plan or because he just wants to go first, but either way, he makes his way to the entrance to her workshop.

Then he stops and squawks in indignation. "Why door missing?!" he demands.

I blink and walk up to him. He's right. The entrance to Miktik's workshop is normally a semi-hidden passageway in the midst of the broken shard she calls a home, sort of cut into the facets of the crystal. It's only visible from some angles. But right now, it just... isn't there. In its place is a seamless mass of crystal that blends in perfectly with the rest of the crashed building.

I poke it experimentally, just in case it's an illusion. It's not.

"Huh," I say.

This is a lot of security. More than any I saw Miktik use, even when it came to discussing her Firmament sink with us. I can sense the seams in the Firmament where the passageway should be — the imbuement doesn't run perfectly through that area. There's a subtle shift in direction and speed as it moves through the location, like light being refracted through glass.

Which doesn't exactly tell me how to open the passageway.

I stare at it. Other than the seams I can feel with my Firmament sense, there's no obvious mechanism I could use to move the crystal out of the way.

...Actually, this is a perfect use case for Phaseslip, isn't it? The torrent of Firmament rushing through the door might prove a problem, but Virin's experimentation tells me that it's only a problem if the imbuement leaks out of the object its in. Whatever upgrade Miktik's security system just got, it's made it more vulnerable to me, because all that Firmament is perfectly held within the crystal—

Tarin, apparently tired of me staring at the door and trying to decide how to get through it, steps forward and knocks sharply on the crystal. "Friend!" he calls out. "I here! Where your door?"

...Or, I suppose, we could just knock. Maybe that should've been my first, go-to solution.

There's a silence that lasts for long enough that I start to wonder if I should try to Phaseslip through the door anyway, but almost as soon as I start channeling my Firmament, the crystal in front of us just... melts away. I have to look down to see Miktik, who's frantically waving us in.

We take the hint and hurry into her workshop. Behind us, I feel the walls once more close around the entrance.

That's... matter manipulation. The melting wasn't just a visual effect — the stone is crystal is actually melting into place. That feels like a really advanced imbuement.

"Tarin!" Miktik hisses once the so-called door closes behind us. "What are you doing here?! Miktik wasn't expecting you! And who's your friend? And how did you even get into Isthanok?"

"I come help," Tarin sniffs. "You too many questions!"

"She has a right to ask them," I say dryly. I look past her into her workshop, where a small crowd of others stand. Among them, to my surprise, are Thys and Thaht, the kobolds I met in the Arena whose shop we were supposed to visit. Another is a silverwisp that bows his head toward me and gives me the same finger-twist salute that Thys and Thaht both greeted me with.

I think I'm getting an idea of what's going on here. The imbuement around this place is solid. If I'm wrong... well, I won't have to worry about Whisper sending a message back to her past self, at least.

"We're here because we need to figure out what's going on with He-Who-Guards," I say. Tarin's jaw drops — metaphorically, he mostly just opens his beak wide — and I suppress the urge to grin. He's probably thinking about all the times I cautioned him against just revealing who we were and what we were doing. "It's a long story, but the important thing you need to know is that the Trial has started, and I'm the Trialgoer."

Everyone in Miktik's workshop erupts into whispers. Miktik herself just stares for a moment, then sighs.

"Miktik should have known Tarin would only come here to bring trouble," she mutters to herself. "Is the Trial why Whisper is acting so strangely?"

"Probably," I say. "We don't know what happened. Why don't you fill us in on what changed starting a day or so ago?"

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Miktik gives me a strange look. "...All instances of He-Who-Guards returned to Whisper's palace," she says. "And Whisper installed normal guards all over the city. It's made things harder on us than normal. We're trying to figure out why."

"Who 'us'?" Tarin asks. He's still out of the loop.

Miktik sighs. "I suppose we might as well let you in on it," she mutters. "It's not like I don't trust you. Not sure I trust the Trialgoer, but he's already figured us out, so."

"You're a rebel group of some sort," I say. The imbuement around Miktik's workshop, the secrecy, the fact that Miktik herself is using Integrator technology in her workshop. Salvage or not, access to that kind of tech happens only if you're either very well-connected, or very determined.

Miktik, it seems, is both.

Then there's that hand gesture the silverwisp greeted me with. For a town that's under constant audio surveillance, a nonverbal means of communication is the perfect way for a group of rebels to recognize one another — although I notice that salute isn't one Miktik can perform. She doesn't really have the fingers for it.

Must be hard to come up with something that accommodates all species.

"Yes," Miktik confirms. She seems a little more comfortable and in-her-element now, at the very least. "You caught us in the middle of a meeting, but if you're the Trialgoer, then we could use your help. Assuming you're on our side."

"Hestia's Trialgoers want to kill me or study me, as far as I can tell," I say dryly. "And they're all pawns of the Integrators. I'm not exactly interested in working with them."

"Good," Miktik says. She sounds a little relieved, though she hides it well. "We could use a Trialgoer."

"Wait, wait," Tarin protests. He flaps his wings a little and makes his way further into the room, fluffing up his feathers as he does so. "What type rebel? You fight Whisper?"

Miktik exchanges glances with the rest of the rebels in the room. Thys and Thaht are both surprisingly quiet; besides them, there is the silverwisp that greeted me, another crow that's presumably the same species as Tarin, and an antlike warrior I'm assuming is another morphling. I note to my relief that this one isn't wearing a void suit.

"We fight Whisper, yes," Miktik answers eventually. "You might have noticed that she controls almost everyone in the city. Not directly, but using her Whispers and her assassins. She has a rigid idea of how she wants 'her' city to run, and if anyone goes against her, she uses her Interface skills to make their lives very painful. You don't want to experience it yourself, trust me."

"I already have," I say, grimacing at the memory of her Whisper burning through me. "You have a counter for it you're developing, right? A Firmament sink of some sort that draws in her Firmament and reduces the strain on your system?"

Miktik looks surprised, then suspicious. "How do you know about that?"

"Because he's a spy," the crow calls out from the back of the room. She leans back in her chair, glowering at the both of us. Her feathers, I note, are a lot glossier than Tarin's; she seems much younger. She's also glaring at me.

"If I were a spy, I'd be coming here to learn about the countermeasures you have. I wouldn't know about them already," I say dryly.

"He has a point!" Thys says. "I don't know why, but I trust him."

Thaht gives his brother a look. "We've talked about how easily you trust people."

"This one's different."

"That's what you always say!"

The silverwisp interrupts both brothers. "Perhaps it's best we begin with introductions," he says smooth. "I am He-Who-Wanders."

"Thys and Thaht," both kobolds chorus together.

"Name's Bimar," the crow grunts.

"I am he who is named Vahrkos," the morphling says, speaking for the first time. His voice is surprisingly deep. "If you are aware of morphling physiology, please also be aware that my other selves are currently indisposed. I do not wish to talk about them, so I would appreciate it if you avoid questions about them."

He-Who-Wanders shoots Vahrkos a sympathetic look that I fail to entirely comprehend — there's something in his gaze, so I'm guessing the silverwisp knows more about Vahrkos's situation. He holds out his hand, and Vahrkos seems to appreciate the gesture; I see the morphling take the hand and let out a slow breath, calming himself down from some invisible trauma.

"I'm Ethan," I say. "I've met some of you before. You probably already know who Tarin is, if Miktik has talked about him at all. And—"

"I'm Ahkelios!" Ahkelios interrupts me before I can complete my side of the introductions, piping up from his spot in my hair. Thys and Thaht both drop their jaws, their eyes gleaming with excitement. He-Who-Wanders flinches for a second before steadying himself. Vahrkos doesn't react.

Bimar has the biggest reaction of all, because she nearly falls off the chair she's rocking backward on. "Is that a talking ornament?" she demands.

Oh boy. "He's not an ornament—" I start.

"I'm not an ornament!" Ahkelios sounds greatly offended, and I groan. "I'm his familiar! And a very useful one, let me tell you!"

"You're also my friend," I remind him.

"Oh yeah. That too."

"Why do you have a talking ornam— familiar?" Bimar corrects herself as Ahkelios bristles. I can feel his intent to spring himself off my head and launch himself at her.

"It's a very complicated story," I say. I don't think this is the right time to reveal that Hestia as a planet has been stuck hosting the same Trial for hundreds of iterations. "And it's not what's important right now. What's important is that I can help you improve those Firmament sinks you're using."

I think. I don't say those words out loud. I've learned a lot more about imbuement since the last time I tried, and the imbuement stone I used back then was... reasonably effective against Whisper. I have no doubt I can make a better one now with some of the techniques I've just learned.

More importantly, improving the Firmament sinks — provided Miktik actually has the materials to outfit us with them — will give us the ability to get close to Guard without Whisper being able to use her primary skill on us. Phaseslip should let me slip past most of her defenses.

Speaking of which...

"What's the story behind He-Who-Guards, anyway?" I ask. "You guys seem to know who he is, so I assume it's not some deeply held secret."

MIktik exchanges glances with the other rebels again, and I catch the wince passing through them all. "You haven't heard?" she asks. "It's not a secret. But... it's kind of a mess.

"To put it simply, He-Who-Guards and She-Who-Whispers were once lovers. Then Whisper was chosen for the Trial, and Guard began to die."

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