Isolde wasn’t at the Bastion when I landed on what was essentially my flight pad. I waved idly to Bait, sitting behind my desk, as he seemingly put our signature on several different forms arrayed in a neat pile before him.

  My clone just gave me a dirty look and visibly dismissed me in favor of his work. I restrained a smirk and exited our office, stepping into the hallway outside it.

  One of the officers I flagged down told me that Isolde was still up at Kyronkar, apparently sorting some stuff out regarding her apparent…nuptials. However, that same officer informed that the erstwhile groom himself was here, helping to sort out the bevy of supplies he and the refugees had brought with them.

  When I found the man, he was hauling sacks of grain on his broad shoulders, stacked at a height nearing my own. He didn’t even look like he was exerting himself very much as he did so. In another life, and another time, I would have found the outright superhuman feat of strength to be awe inspiring. Anyone from Terra would have.

  But now I didn’t even blink. Instead, I just raised a hand to catch his eye. The sight of me standing in the side doorways of the Bastion seemed to cause Bleddyn a measure of embarrassment, but I received a nod all the same. He hurried up to the grain shed and carefully set the raw foodstuff down on the floor before approaching me with an almost sheepish look on his carved features.

  “Bleddyn, a word?” I asked him quietly. I jerked my head in the direction of one of the rowhouses that were still empty as I did so.

  He nodded and followed me into the long wooden building. Once I had closed the door behind us, the Calonawr heir sighed and scratched the back of his shaggy head. “We…didn’t really get the chance to catch up, did we? Man to man.”

  That caused me to stop short. Was that what he thought this was about? Still, I played along. It was true, after all. I’d immediately joined the effort to help the former slaves, while he had left to go and negotiate his apparent hand in marriage. “I suppose so,” I acknowledged. “A…lot has changed since we burned down a Dwarven plantation together.”

  Bleddyn barked a rueful laugh at that. “True enough, true enough. I can tell ye, though, that was far from the last one I’ve put to the torch. I can’t even count 'em all now.” He got a far-off look in his eyes. “Lemme tell ye, Nate. Ye got no idea just how big the slavin’ operation is up there. We had no idea how bad it was, locked up in Addersfield the way we were. No idea just how many farms, big and small are getting’ seen to by people with collars around their necks. It makes me so goddsdamned angry sometimes.”

  The growl he loosed then was distinctly lupine in nature. In the dim light of the row house, I’m pretty sure I saw his eyes flash an amber yellow for an instant.

  I remained calm in the face of his rage, though. This wasn’t the first time I’d met one of his kind, though it had been a while. Bleddyn seemed to realize what had happened, as a sheepish look crossed his face. “Ah…sorry about that.”

  “It happens,” I dismissed before pausing for a moment. “I…can’t imagine any of them were quite as deranged as Magnus’s.”

  For once, I didn’t get a side-eyed look at how I had almost spat that name. Instead, Bleddyn just spat on the floor and glowered off into space for a moment.

  If anyone on Vereden could understand my still-burning hatred of the long-deceased Dwarf, it would be Bleddyn.

  “Aye, you’re right,” Bleddyn acknowledged, almost grudgingly. “That fucker was a special kind of insane. No, mostly it’s just…mundane for the Dwarves. They don’t blink an eye at treatin’ humans like they were little better than farm equipment that talks back. Slappin’ a collar around the neck of a man and orderin’ him to go and pick cotton don’t even cause most of ‘em to blink an eye. Some were kind to their slaves, treatin’ ‘em like they were favored family pets. Some weren’t.” He snarled. “If I ever see another godsdamned whip again in my life, I’m gonna hang someone with it.”

  My mind flashed back to a particular kill I’d made during the infiltration of Caer Drarrow, and I winced. “I…don’t recommend that. It’s not a pretty way to go.”

  That earned me a raised eyebrow from Bleddyn, but he didn’t comment on the oddly specific situation I’d apparently been in. “Aye, I suppose. Point is, though, we’ve been freein’ everyone we can find. Both the people who were mistreated, and the ones who weren’t. Those last ones…they don’t always thank us. Sometimes they really don’t. Those people…most of ‘em choose to stay behind with their 'family', even after we break their Bond. It’s a damn odd situation when we come across it.”

  “…you can’t save everyone, no matter how hard you try. Not if they don’t want to be saved.”

  “I suppose,” Bleddyn acknowledged somberly.

  Alright, time to change the subject.

  “You know…I’m not sure if your Father told you or not. But I did meet a certain special furry someone while I was visiting. One might even call them an Ancestor.”

  “Ha!” Bleddyn perked up, barking out a laugh. “Aye, I heard about that. I even heard you’ve got a little one just like ‘im. I’ve always wondered what they look like, as pups.”

  “You missed your shot with that,” I shrugged, to Bleddyn’s obvious disappointment. “He’s not much of a pup anymore-”

  (“Not much of a pup at all, are you?”

  “Wait, what’s going on?”

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

  “I’ll tell you later.”)

  “But…he’s not the only little one I’ve got these days. I, uh…” I said, smiling a bit bashfully. “I adopted someone. A little girl by the name of Aveline.”

  Bleddyn lit up then, in a way I hadn’t expected. “Really?! Congratulations, brother!” He crowed, stepping forward to pound my back with a palm the size of a dinner plate. I only barely managed to keep my footing, and that was because I pulsed Might of the Wyrdwood at one percent briefly. If the Werewolf noticed the brief, nearly translucent red mist that flashed over my limbs, he didn’t say anything. I think he was just too excited to care. “I’d love to meet her.”

  “Stop by my home, then,” I said. “She’s at home right now, but she’s not very shy when it comes to new people. But…I didn’t actually pull you away so we could catch up, as nice as it’s been.” I cocked my head to the side and raised an eyebrow. “What’s this I hear about you suddenly getting married?”

  “Ah…” Bleddyn scratched his cheek and shrugged. “Just how it goes, you know? When ye get born high up, ye don’t marry for love. Ye marry for advantage. I always knew that’s how it would go for me. I just thought it’d been another Mynyyd girl. But…I saw a chance, and I took it. From what I’ve heard…the Herztals’ve been lookin' for inroads into the highlands for a while now.”

  He seemed a bit downcast at the end there, where he had been completely unfazed talking about his own marriage.

  I nodded slowly at that, understanding what he was referencing. “I’m…sorry about Rhiannon, Bleddyn,” I said, laying a hand on his shoulder. “She was long gone by the time I met…”

  “The bloodsucker?” Bleddyn said, with a mirthless smile. “Aye, I…heard about that from me Da’. Thanks for putting that thing down. Rhi’ and I weren’t exactly close, but she was kin. I just wish I could give Uncle Daff my condolences, but the man is long gone.”

  “Gruffyd really doesn’t know what happened to him?” I furrowed my brow.

  Bleddyn shook his head. “No. Accordin’ to Da’, it’s like the man up and vanished a week or so after everythin’ that went down in Elderwyck. Everythin’ in his home is still there, so he didn’t pack up and leave. No clothes are missin’, and there was a bowl of stew rottin’ on his kitchen table, like he'd just sat down for dinner. Just…poof!” He made a bursting motion with his hands. “Gone. It’s got Da’ worried fierce about his brother, despite how much they quarreled. Uncle Daff…he just didn’t have much to live for, besides his girl.”

  I sighed, troubled despite myself. That was another of the high-profile disappearances that had happened in the wake of the Construct War. I could see why Wenzel had agreed to marry Isolde and Bleddyn, considering how wounded both Herztal and the Mynyyd had been by it. But…

  “Did you…actually get the Regent to send the Army into Velancia?” I asked, doubt thick in my voice.

  “Not as such,” Bleddyn grimaced, running a hand through his hair.

  I thought not. Wenzel’s entire motive for taking the throne was to stabilize the country, so Oskar could have a more peaceful reign. Outright declaring war against the other major power on the continent was the opposite of that.

  “But…” Bleddyn continued, smiling crookedly at me. “I got somethin’ else instead. I know most of the Martial Orders ain’t in town right now, but when they get back? They’re going to be ‘encouraged’,” He said, making air quotations. “To march for the Principality. All of them. Which means you, too, Nate.”

  I blinked rapidly at that, taken aback. Bleddyn outright laughed at my expression as I processed what he’d said.

  “All of us? I…assume we’re to help the Unshackled, but…what’s the official reason we’re going?”

  The Principality would not fuck around when it came to foreign military forces in their lands. Yes, the Martial Orders were not officially a branch of the Herztalian military, but they were still adjacent. We were obligated to assist in military matters as a fundamental part of our charter. If it seemed like Herztal was invading the country, not even a civil war would stop the Velancians from uniting against us.

  “Well…” Bleddyn drawled. “Officially, you’re going to be accepting mass contracts from Rhoscara, to act as guards durin’ the crisis. Ye well know how monster spawns uptick during actual war, and that ain’t even countin’ the knife ears. They’ve been oddly active, the last few months,” He said with a troubled frown. “It’s like they ain’t scared of the scouts. Elves have been spotted raidin’ out of the Barren Forest more and more. It ain’t even a lie, to say the Martial Orders will be protectin’ the common folk of Velancia, while all the actual militaries of the Five Houses will be dukin’ it out. But while you’re doing that, ye’ll also be checkin’ in on plantations that still have slaves, all over the country.”

  “And breaking chains while we do,” I said with a vicious smile, mirrored by my companion. I chuckled and then sighed. “I guess that means I need to churn out some more Bond Breakers.”

  To my surprise, Bleddyn waved me off. “Ye don’t need to bother. The instructions ye sent along with the new batch were clear enough for me own Enchanters to puzzle out. We’ve got crates of the damn things now. We’ll handle giving them out to the other Martial Orders.”

  I breathed in deeply and then held it for a moment before letting it out. “How long until we’re all supposed to move out?”

  “A week, mebbe two?” Bleddyn shrugged. “From what the Regent told me, most of your Orders are out chasing down a horde. They’ll have to finish up, then come back, and then mobilize with everyone else. From what I understand, ol’ Wenzel is sendin’ out people now to brief who’s left.”

  “I’ll have to make some arrangements soon,” I murmured, more to myself than to him. I crossed my arms and drummed my fingers against my bicep in thought. “Rachel can look after Aveline…maybe in Draymoor instead? It’s only a few weeks until my rest is done, maybe I can get away with some fighting now…”

  “What was that?”

  I startled, looking back up from where I had bowed my head. “Oh, nothing. Don’t worry about it. I just need to go talk to my people. I’m sure they’re-”

  I was cut off before I could I could finish what I was saying. A loud clamor suddenly arose from the yard, just outside the row house. Muffled shouting filled the air, with more than a few screams of what seemed like fear. Rapid, panicked footsteps approached the door to the wooden hall where Bleddyn and I were speaking, before their owner abruptly barged through it, shoulder-first.

  A member of my Order stood there, panting through what seemed to be an adrenaline rush. He was a newer member, a former soldier by the name of…Thaddeus, I believe.

  I didn’t like the terror-stricken look in his eye.

  Not one bit.

  “M-Marshal!” He almost screamed, his crazed eyes falling on me. “Y-y-y-you have to s-s-see this!”

  I exchanged a look with a suddenly alert Bleddyn before turning back to Thaddeus. “See what, Private? What’s going on?”

  “I-I can’t-” Thaddeus shook his head wildly, before spinning around and dashing back out the door. The last thing I heard before he disappeared was, “Just c-come!”

  Bleddyn charged out the door before I could, following at the heels of the panicked Order member, but I was right behind him. Just outside, I could see that all of the work, either related to the refugees or otherwise, had ceased. Each and every single person at the Bastion had stopped where they were and had craned their head to look up at the sky. Heads were poking through windows in both the row houses and the Bastion itself, while more and more people were streaming from them to gawk up with the others.

  Bleddyn included. As soon as he had set foot outside, he halted in place, craning his head straight up. “Mother of all protect us…” He breathed.

  I soon found out why.

  There was something wrong with the sky.