Emily’s communicator rings a few hours after The Clock catches up to where she last rewound, pulling her focus away from the half-formed alchemical balancing array she’s carving into the walls of the electrified chamber. She pulls the device from her belt with a wave of mana and glances at the caller’s name before accepting.

  “Arthur, to what do I owe the pleasure? Have your border reinforcements been going well?”

  “I’m not surprised you’ve noticed, but should I be concerned?” the king replies without missing a beat, though Emily catches a tense waiver to his tone that she doesn’t trust. “To my understanding, we’ve been suitably subtle.”

  “I have eyes everywhere, and it’s not often you see Protectors straying from their den. I doubt you have to worry about many recognising them.”

  “No, I don’t think I do. Now, as for why I called you, there’s a delegation here from Morzea waiting to meet you.”

  “Are they prepared to give me entry?” Emily asks, sending her carving staff into her belt and turning to the elevator.

  “They’re prepared to discuss the possibility and, if who they’ve sent is any indication, I’d say you’re likely to get your way.”

  A grin stretches Emily’s lips but doesn’t quite reach her eyes as simmering excitement begins to build at the edge of her awareness.

  “Oh? And why would that be?”

  “They sent their guardian.”

  ***

  Emily steps off a platform of wind onto the steps before Chroni’s palace, making her way through the open doors and towards several fourth circle energy signatures flaring within.

  She marches through the entrance hallway and up to the throne room’s heavy wooden doors, placing a hand against them and pushing, sending them swinging open with ease. The doors sweep aside to reveal a grand, open chamber filled with a mix of magical and natural light.

  There are large, tinted windows lining the hall, coloured in Modo’s signature black, red, and white, along with clustered chandeliers hanging above, carved from an assortment of magical crystals, some large and some small, joining together to create a rainbow mosaic of mana that hangs in the air like mist. Emily breathes in the charged atmosphere, feeling her circles, freshly drained by the spatial jump over, quickly start to refill as the colourful mist gathers on her skin like dew, highlighting the dark metal plating tracing her muscles.

  Arthur is seated on a raised throne opposite the door, drawn from black and white iron and traced with veins of red magical light, and he’s also wearing the room’s mana like a cloak. His guards stand on either side of his seat, a few steps back and tucked into its shadow, but the coats of mana clinging to them broadcast their positions, eliminating any chance of going unnoticed.

  The king meets Emily’s eyes as she enters, looking over the heads of the mages standing before him with a perfectly neutral gaze, not batting an eye at the thick, shimmering mana clinging to all four of them, broadcasting their strength.

  “Welcome, Emily. Thank you for giving me your attention so swiftly,” Arthur calls out in a warm tone, gesturing for her to approach. “I apologise for the short notice, but our Morzean guests here only just informed me their visit is for a meeting with you.”

  The mages in question turn to follow the king’s gaze, and Emily watches two of them furrow their brows at his words, while the other two maintain calm, appraising expressions. She recognises one of the calm men as Christian Belmont, having seen his intense emerald eyes and cropped brown hair streaked with grey in several books in The Covenant’s library. The atmospheric mana hugging his skin is dense with colour, favouring green and white tones, and nearly as thick as the rainbow covering Emily.

  “That’s alright,” she replies, holding Christian’s gaze without even glancing up at Arthur. “I’ll regain the little mana I burned to get here in no time, and I’m the one who requested the visit.”

  “You did? But I never received an official response to the request I forwarded for you,” Arthur states with a raised brow, his tone carrying a surprising bite.

  “I don’t know anything about your request. It must’ve got lost along the way,” Christian cuts into the conversation with a deep, booming voice that fills the space without a hint of mana to help it, glancing back at the king derisively before turning to face Emily again. “But we certainly received yours, and I’d very much like to discuss the movement of your birds into our borders.”

  “Oh?” Emily tilts her head, creasing her brow in mock confusion. “Whatever would you mean? I certainly don’t have any birds active within your borders at the moment, though I did recently lose contact with a few of my favourites.”

  Her face stretches into what could be a friendly smile if not for the palpable bloodlust in her eyes.

  “You wouldn’t happen to have seen them, would you? You see, I only lose contact when they’re destroyed, and I’m very protective of my babies.”

  Christian grits his teeth, and Emily can feel his anger and mana rolling out in waves of frigid wind. The three fourth circle mages accompanying him narrow their eyes and set their shoulders, rousing their mana and causing the sheen highlighting them to quiver.

  “Fine,” Morzea’s Guardian spits, holding up a hand to silence his companions’ complaints before they can be voiced. “I’m here on behalf of the Republic’s president to offer you our good graces and a chance to explore our mountains. If you’re interested, I would like to discuss some terms and establish a contract between yourself and our country to ensure both parties leave... satisfied.”

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  The man schools his expression and withdraws the pressure of his circles, easing the tension in the room as he swallows his displeasure.

  “Of course. A friendly exchange is all I ever asked for after all,” Emily agrees, calming her eyes but maintaining a predatory smile. “I do hope we can come to an agreement this time without anything getting - how did you put it? - lost along the way?”

  Arthur chuckles under his breath and flashes Emily an approving smile, but everyone in the room hears it, and the mages flanking Christian lose their composure, releasing hateful glares.

  “Do you have a more appropriate chamber for us to converse in privately?” Christian asks, ignoring Emily’s taunt and turning back to the king. “That is, unless Miss Coldstone’s business is your concern.”

  Arthur scoffs at the attempt to drive a wedge between them, waving dismissively towards a side door near the entrance to the throne room.

  “I believe Emily is quite capable of handling her own business. You’ll find seating and refreshments prepared already, and I do hope your negotiations are fruitful. Good luck.”

  ***

  Emily returns to her factory before the day ends, a satisfied grin curling her lips as she sends out a few messages to update her friends.

  “I take it your meeting went well?” Pod asks when she joins him in one of their subterranean workshops, turning away from the several-metre-long artillery cannon he’s in the midst of assembling.

  “Very.” Emily nods, not looking up from her communicator. “We’ll meet an escort at the border, but we now have permission to take an extended trip through the Morzean Mountains.”

  “What did they ask for?”

  “Nothing of much importance. When we leave their borders after the trip, I’m barred from re-entering or ordering any of my troops to do the same. I also agreed to attempt to awaken five of their selected citizens as mechanics, and to never directly raise my hand in their conflict with Modo.”

  “Ha, as if you need to.” Pod chuckles. “With the amount of weapons they’re buying from us, Modo won’t even need to try when the ceasefire ends.”

  “Yes, and we should be long gone before that even becomes an issue. As I said, not much of importance.”

  ***

  A few days later, Emily and Pod make their way to the boundary of their slowly expanding desert compound to greet an incoming airship. It’s not familiar, but it proudly bears the crest of house Hibiscus.

  The ship touches down just outside the swirling barrier of wind wrapping the factory and, as it lets down a set of stairs, four friendly faces step out in pairs. Three expected, and one not.

  “Ivor!” Emily calls out as he and Tom follow Dante and Enzo down to meet her. “It’s good to see you again, but what are you doing back here? I thought you had business in Candim.”

  “It’s nice to see you again too,” Tom grumbles under his breath as he’s ignored, receiving a jab to the side from Dante for his troubles.

  “I did,” Ivor signs, breaking eye contact with a shy smile. “I had to say goodbye.”

  Emily blinks in surprise, her mind running through several possibilities in an instant before settling on the truth as he looks back with steel in his gaze.

  “Are you sure?” she signs back, feeling a strange, muted blend of hope and excitement building in her heart. “Once we leave, I have no plans to come back any time soon.”

  “The Madonnas are the only family I’ve ever had, and with my recent success in my research, I’ve paid back the kindness they’ve shown me.”

  “It won’t be easy. I go at my own pace, and it’s up to you to keep up.”

  Ivor glances at Pod, meeting his gaze in a silent exchange before nodding.

  “I understand. I won’t become a burden.”

  Emily lets his declaration hang in silence for a few seconds, searching his gaze and steady hands for any signs of hesitation before she lets her machina flow into her nascent emotions, thawing the last of the suppression holding them back and letting her face break into a genuine smile.

  “Then I’m happy to have you,” she signs before stepping forward and pulling him into a hug, watching their friends’ eyes widen in surprise as she speaks into his ear. “Welcome aboard.”

  “Now I’m really feeling left out,” Tom says with a grin as they separate, earning himself a roll of Emily’s eyes as she turns to guide them towards Elisime.

  “Maybe you’d get a better greeting if you weren’t here to pester me with questions.”

  “Hey! You said I could!”

  “I agreed to answer some questions about myself. How that turned into giving you magical lectures…”

  “Ha, you say that like you didn’t leap at the chance to talk magic in Lebard,” Dante chuckles. “Also, if you’re accepting new followers, maybe I should let Dad know. He’s been insufferable since you called him a ‘true elementalist’.”

  The walk through the compound doesn’t take long, and soon they’re settling into place on Elisime’s bridge as the ship flies west towards the country’s border, cutting through the thick sandstorm with ease.

  When they emerge from the churning sand, they come face to face with a large fleet of ships, numbering well over two hundred and all bearing similar designs to Modo’s military vessels but painted in the bright blues and greens of the Republic’s flag with a bright white trim. Emily can feel several fourth circle signatures within the fleet, four of them she recognises from her recent meeting, and every cannon in sight is trained on Elisime, but not a single one fires as the formation breaks apart, opening a clear space.

  “What a welcome,” Tom mumbles in awe as Emily calmly guides the ship into the gap. “Would it actually be able to stop this ship?”

  “Not a chance,” Emily scoffs, turning down the power to Elisime’s engines to allow the escort to keep up as they close ranks around her, barely obscuring the view of snowy peaks rising in the far distance.

  The largest ship of the fleet, which still falls tens of metres short of Elisime’s length, takes the lead and heads straight for the mountains. Emily raises a brow as a large panel at the rear of the leading ship slowly lowers, revealing Christian Belmont and one of the other fourth circle mages, standing with their arms crossed and staring back at her.

  “Is that meant to be intimidating?” Pod asks, chuckling as he pulls up a zoomed-in camera feed to show a close-up of Christian’s fierce scowl.

  “What, you think you could take him?” Dante asks, glancing at the young man with a raised, taunting brow.

  “You’d be surprised,” Pod responds, flashing him a fierce, confident grin and gesturing to the metal backpack slung over the back of his seat. “I’ve been with Emily for a while. I’ve got some fun toys.”

  “Fun enough to let you, a… second circle?”

  “Stage.”

  “Right, second stage mechanic, fight a fourth circle mage?”

  “If I caught him off guard, maybe.” Pod shrugs.

  “Speaking of new toys,” Tom says, turning in his seat to face Emily and nodding towards her arm. “What’s with the changes? I can’t quite tell what’s different, but it looks… denser?”

  “I reworked most of the joints,” Emily explains, holding her hand out and rotating her wrist, letting it do a full three-sixty in the ball-socket. “And tweaked the internal power source. It’s now running on a-”

  She pauses her explanation as Christian uncrosses and raises his arms, narrowing her eyes and watching him closely for any signs of hostility. There’s a bright burst of light, and a sudden wave of shimmering golden mana that seems to sway with the wind, but despite not being able to see the circle he’s forming clearly, Emily doesn’t flinch, letting Christian wrap her ship in a spell.

  Her own mana flows through Elisime’s batteries before reaching out in tongues of lightning to trace the forming barrier around them, but it passes through without resistance, so she stops and clicks her tongue.

  “He’s just blocking our view of the surroundings,” she says, calming the slight tension in the bridge in an instant. “I guess I should’ve included an aerial view of their country in our deal, but I wasn’t expecting him to be this… petty.”

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