Radeon woke in a sitting curl, morning sunshine beaming warmth across his lashes.
Outside, soft, hurried steps beat the mud as those in charge hurried past, faces flushed without a skin of wine to blame.
Spirit arrays hummed through the camp, blunt old patterns trusted to carry men and not much else.
"Fay. Up. Boat's boarding."
"So soon?"
Fay, buried under Froy's drab, reached up to straighten his borrowed mask of a man without being asked, then dug out rations and pressed a strip of dried meat into Radeon's hand.
The dry bread was still dragging rough across their tongues when a distant voice cut through the murmurs.
"All you cooks, crafters, and smiths, onto the spirit boat, now! Or I'll start heaving you aboard myself, one squealing body at a time!" barked the old first mate.
Radeon and Fay ran as fast as their tired legs allowed. Board early and you drew fewer eyes.
For now, the guards still moved loose at the joints, their minds drifting on talk of enlightenment and sweet immersion in cultivation.
As their boots met the gangway, a spear slid out to bar their way, steel kissing the wood at their toes.
"Papers. Now."
Radeon halted and Fay bumped into his shoulder.
He let the stumble roll into motion, lifting their bronze token and tilting it so the sunlight flashed on the sect mark.
The guard squinted, sweat bright on his brow, the look of a man sent by a superior to run some petty errand before his real shift.
His mouth curled in disdain. With a sharp flick of his spear butt he knocked the token aside, then shoved Radeon back a step.
"Did I ask for trinkets? I said papers. Are you deaf as well as slow?"
"My mistake, sir," Radeon replied humbly.
He slipped a hand inside his robe as Fay gathered their dirtied tokens. He drew out the leather book cover he had taken from the exchange hall.
The grime was gone and the scuffs oiled smooth, the ebony hide now holding a sober sheen that made it look formal and important, the sort of thing meant for official eyes.
He held up the letter with both hands. The parchment felt heavier than it had any right to be. This was all they had now.
The true document, stamped and sealed, had been fed to the fire. That choice could not be walked back.
Now they pinned what hope they had to the abbot's careful script.
If anyone asked, this would be the real thing. It had to be.
"Here, officer."
The guard had never seen script like it. The ink prickled under his thumb, each stroke breathing quiet and sure with profound power.
"Next time, ser, put it under my nose first," he said, the words gentled by a lower tone and a nervous smile.
He handed the papers back into Radeon's chest, softer than needed, and jerked his spear aside.
"Move along, then. Move. Next!"
The deck filled with quiet greetings and tired nods as folk found their places. The spirit boat's age showed in every muted creak.
Radeon and Fay could hear old groans under the fresh pitch and hasty repairs that only pretended at care.
Their gazes roamed over the galleon bulk of the spirit boat. A book slipped from Fay's sleeve and slapped the planks.
Radeon's hand darted down before anyone else noticed. He flipped it open with a quick, neat motion.
Names marched down the list in his own cramped hand, each one with a face Fay had sketched above it in quick strokes. She had gone back over his work, adding sharper notes in the margins.
He noted the weapons they favored, the expressions they wore when they thought no one watched, and a rough guess at how heavy their spirit stones weighed in their purses.
All of it could help Radeon sell the drawings better when the time came to smile and make his pitch.
"Froy, this is solid work. Is this what you've been doing all this time?"
"I thought it might be useful to know who we shouldn't offend, and who we might be able to trade with."
"You planning to keep this up? Doesn't it bother you?"
"Not at all. If I ever do become an immortal, it can remind me of them and my journeys."
Radeon liked the plain hunger in her words, honest in a way oaths never were.
He flipped through each page and drank in every line of ink while their bodies claimed a bare stretch of deck on the spirit boat.
The captain did not wait for anyone to grow comfortable. The deck shuddered as the spirit boat heaved out of its pit in the torn earth.
Radeon pressed his palms flat on the pages until the wind stopped clawing at them.
He closed the book and rose. From the rail, he studied the land sliding by below.
Dirt roads, gullies, thick runs of foliage. Any path that might profit them once steel began to sing.
Getting both of them out alive would already count as a huge win.
The spirit boat climbed higher into the gloom. Mist beaded on his face as they flew, slicking his brows and collar, cold as old sweat.
Radeon didn't let it blunt his watchfulness. His fingers brushed the knife hidden under his cloak.
With his other hand, he found Fay's and held it, careful not to smear the paint on her skin.
"I-I've never boarded one of these spirit boats before, Senior. I... I think I'm going to be sick," Fay whispered, one hand pressed over her mouth.
"Not now, Froy. Hold it together."
Qi gathered in Radeon's fingers. He laid them on her and let it flow, gentle as a small river, washing through her limbs.
The trembling eased. The dizziness loosened its grip. Her nerves settled, little by little, into something she could breathe through.
"Better?" he asked.
"A little. Thank you."
A couple of hours crawled past, and then lightning forked through the clouds ahead.
The already sour weather turned mean in a heartbeat.
Radeon worked a small glass vial out of his inner pocket as the sky broke open.
Rain clinked against the bottle and needled the back of his neck.
"Vitality pills," he said. "Hard to brew, harder to find..."
"I don't need it, I won't it!" she said, eyes prickling with tears.
"Fay. You've got it wrong. Listen. I'll be on a battlefield," Radeon said.
Fay's fingers worried at the hem of her robe. Her eyes dropped to the deck, her face gone pale as fresh canvas.
Her mind spiraled around a single thought. Radeon meant to leave her behind.
"Use your head. If I wanted to ditch you, I'd do it on the way to camp. Why bring you this far at all?"
Radeon saw the way her shoulders dipped and knew resignation when he saw it.
She knew he was right. Nothing about him so far had struck her as impulsive, much less foolish.
Fay did not argue or plead.
She just took the leather book from his hands and bent over it, coal biting into the page, indignation in every stroke, too ashamed to say she'd been wrong.
Radeon let the matter rest. Words would only rub the bruise.
Instead he sank inward, reaching for the coiled weight of power inside him.
His eyes caught and held the light, colors sliding strange for an instant, like oil on water.
The world tightened at the edges of his sight.
In less than a breath, his gaze slipped past the mist and into what lay beyond.
A broken peak came into focus.
Around it ran threads of misfortune, dark as old bruises, with red like deep blood in their seams, and above it all loomed a towering knot of gold fortune, bright and heavy, waiting for the bold.
Pain stabbed behind his eyes. He hissed and pulled back into himself.
Before the ache could swell, he dug out a pill and swallowed it dry.
'This ship's headed for the rear camps. I need the front line, where the killing starts. Where gear actually matters.'
"Stay right here," he said, shoving his pack of supplies at Fay.
"Where are you going?"
"To make trouble."