When I opened my eyes again we were in a forest camp, with a scent of green pine on the air along with nearby woodsmoke.

  The camp was as odd as all the people I had seen from the cult so far. It was a mix of rustic furs and leather alongside clearly modern goods. Plastic rain tarps were pitched up over leather tents and women wore simple, old-fashioned dresses with modern make-up. There was a smattering of smaller tents and ragged shacks with a central one bigger than the others, bigger than the entire Memorial Courtyard back at Division headquarters. All the structures were placed around a central fire pit, where a few women were roasting meat.

  I started when someone put a hand on my shoulder. It was the Great Mage, Drianthenes.

  “I welcome you,” he said, “to the Heirs of the Once and Future Empire of Raxolas.” Then he turned away with a wave of his hand. “Adaline, take Izak to be seen by Maggie. Henri, walk with them. Once Maggie has them cleaned up, meet us at the Command Base.” There was a murmur of ascent.

  “Command base” must have been his term for the large tent in the clearing, because that’s the one he made for, with Friedrich on his heels. People bowed their heads and saluted them as the two passed by. Watching them walk proudly side by side, I noticed the similarity in their lean builds and gaits. Both men had similar rich brown hair that fell in a wavy fashion, even though Drianthenes’s was going white. Fredrich was walking a step behind Drianthenes like he belonged there.

  I was staring after them, trying to gauge how certain I was that the two were related. Very little was known about the structure of the Cult, though we assumed it aped the old Empire Mage families in valuing familial inheritance. It was hard to be certain, because no one ever seemed to leave it. At least no one that ever gotten to the Division.

  I grimaced at the thought, but there must be some way to escape. Adaline said our whole family had gone there after my kidnapping, which meant Theo left at some point. I was dragged out of my thoughtful state by Henri pulling me roughly up. Adaline straightened up gracefully beside us, and glared at Henri.

  “There’s no reason to do that,” she said reproachfully. She made a slight, abortive step forward, but stopped nervously.

  “This is an enemy Mage,” Henri said, “no matter who you think he is to you, and Drianthenes said he was a Spacetime Mage. We have to be alert and ready for him to try to teleport away at any moment.”

  “That’s no call for you to be rough with him,” Adaline said, pursing her lips together, “especially in front of a lady.”

  “Oh, spare me,” Henri rolled his eyes and started pulling me away. “Friedrich may think you’re pure as sunlight after a rainstorm, but I know no woman with a beast inside her is a lady.”

  I, aware of how many Cult Mages were around me with their magics glowing inside them like a constellation of suns, let myself be led. Eyes followed as we moved, staring at me especially. Women whispered to each other and men watched warily as we passed. Adaline had been standing up for me this entire time and might be my literal only ally right now, so I felt compelled to speak up for her.

  “That’s not really how werewolves work,” I said. “That’s a misconception from people who don’t understand how magic works. Magic is just magic inside everyone, whether that person knows how to to channel it into transforming themselves or not. You should know that.”

  Henri spun around and pulled back my shoulder, gripping hard. He leaned in uncomfortably close, until I could smell his lack of a dental routine.

  “You Division Mages,” he said, his voice harsh and low, “don’t know anything about magic. You’re pompous, blind pricks and you shouldn’t even be here. Don’t you dare try to fucking lecture me.”

  I ground my teeth, trying to think of a reply that would keep my limited dignity intact without resulting in being beaten. Luckily for me, someone else spoke up to intervene.

  “Are you menacing a new recruit, Henri?” A woman called out. “I thought you and your uncle were meant to be the charming, welcoming ones.”

  Henri pulled around, relaxing his shoulders and smiling into an entirely new demeanor for the little gaggle of women who had approached. The leader was clearly the girl in the middle. She was early 20s, about Adaline’s age, with dark hair in coiling braids, pale blue eyes, and skin so white it seemed to reflect sunlight like snow. It had to be some kind of make-up or magic. She practically hurt to look at.

  “We could never be as charming as you, Calenthe,” he said, actually adding a slight bow to the words. “But this isn’t a new recruit. A prisoner from our mission.”

  “A rescue from our mission,” Adaline corrected. “He was a Mage being held captive by the Hands. His Excellency thinks he should be useful as a new recruit.”

  She spoke confidently, but still shifted anxiously under the gazes of the other women. They were wearing old fashioned dresses in fine colors with carefully smoothed out make-up, though their dresses had skirts and sleeves pulled up practically. Adaline, of course, was covered in mud, blood, and a wolfskin.

  Calenthe’s eyebrows rose. “Oh? And you were on the mission with all the men? Were you a useful mission bitch then, were-beast?”

  Oh no. I had apparently died in captivity, and gone back to school in the afterlife for my punishment. I sighed deeply, though I didn’t say anything. I didn’t feel like getting into some kind of back and forth with anyone, much less a Mage girl with enough cold condescension to give Milo a run for his money.

  Milo. Milo was dead.

  The thought hit me again, and it seemed like the world should be different, should pause somehow in memory of such an early death. But the world kept spinning heedless of my grief, of course. Adaline simply replied without hesitation, keeping on the game of wits like everything was fine.

  “Of course, I’m always strong and capable when it comes to serving my future husband and Emperor,” Adaline said with a cold, tight smile. “Would you insult your own Prince through his wife, or do you have some basic respect?”

  Calenthe’s own expression became slightly fixed. “You’re not his wife yet,” she growled. “Anything can happen to an engagement. Friedrich started off engaged to two girls, after all, yet here you are. Alone.”

  Adaline flinched back at that, the controlled anger of her expression cracking with despair as her smile twisted into a grimace. The girls around Calenthe, however, gasped with disapproval and looked at her with their own judging, weighing eyes. A few drifted away from her. She wasn’t the head of this power structure, at least not firmly, and she had just overstepped.

  “Lady Calenthe!” One girl gasped. “How could you say that about Sarai?”

  “And the language you’re using isn’t exactly lady-like,” another girl noted.

  “Less ladylike than that?” Calenthe asked, jerking a hand at Adaline’s wild state. Adaline held herself straight. Her cold mask came back.

  “I was just going to get cleaned up,” she said. “His Excellency is expecting us, so we must take our leave.”

  Adaline started walking again, not looking back, and Henri was forced to continue and drag me with him. Adaline had her own power here, even draped in blood and wolf-hide, and some of the girls nodded after her with respect.

  We made it to another tent. It was a larger one, though not as large as that central Command tent. The tent itself was made from canvas and inside there were curtains and a variety of pallets on the ground, along with boxes and shelves of books, medical supplies, and ritual materials. At the center, a woman oversaw a number of girls crowded around a handmade diagram of a human body laying on the ground.

  “We have a new patient for you, Maggie,” Henri called as we entered. “High priority, Drianthenes says.” He gestured a hand toward the girls. “Highly sensitive, as well. Send them out.”

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  The woman drew herself up. She had looked like a crone, hunched over one of the girls to give instructions so that only the top of her gray head was visible. But, as she straightened to speak to Henri, I realized she was likely no older than Drianthenes. There was simply a hard, weary air to her that made her seem older.

  “You don’t order around my girls, Henri,” she said sternly. “You can escort them out, I’ll speak with the patient privately.”

  Like her appearance, her magic was deceptive at first glance. It seemed ordinary, but studying it I realized patterns of her magic were balled in so tightly and efficiently that she may be a Great Mage herself.

  “This one’s a flight risk,” Henri said. “We think he’s a Division Mage-”

  “He won’t take flight around me,” she said. “I know my job. I’ll give him back to you safe and sound, I know how to contain unruly Sorcerers.”

  Henri glanced at Adaline. “But you’ll let her stay?”

  “She is one of my most talented physicians and looks to be in need of some help herself,” Maggie said. “Any others injured?”

  “No,” Henri said. “They detected us coming, but they mostly just fled instead of fighting us. We were too slow to get much from the compound.”

  Adaline coughed slightly. “You were too slow. I almost got Theo myself.”

  He glowered at her. “You weren’t even supposed to be there. And I doubt you picked up much information in beast form. You were disobedient and-”

  “I don’t have time for this!” Maggie interrupted. “Henri! Out.” She pointed toward the exit flap of the tent. He glared at her, but released my arm and left the tent muttering darkly.

  “That boy,” Maggie said when he had left, “is getting far too contrary and arrogant. He’s either going to get himself killed or turn out just like his father. I’m not sure which is worse.”

  I actually chuckled at that. Henri had left a very bad impression in the few minutes I’d known him so far.

  “Are you sure he can’t hear you?” I asked, less worried than amused.

  “This tent is warded for silence,” she said. “I’ll have some privacy with my patients, even if it’s the only privacy in this whole damned camp. Neither of you look seriously injured, not in a way I can heal,” she eyed me, looking past my physical form to my magic, “but I suspect some hot water and a change of clothes will do you both good.” She pointed to an area of the tent with a tub and a floral curtain set to pull around it. “Use the bathing pitcher.”

  I muttered a short thanks and headed over, pulling the curtain around the corner of the tent and stripping. It was uncomfortable being more exposed, especially since I could clearly hear their voices on the other side of the curtain. I felt goosebumps rise on my skin, but the warm water was a wonder.

  The pitcher was spelled to always be full of pleasantly warm water. Not as hot as I would prefer, but warmer than the sink in the prison cell I had been kept in. The spell on it glowed with magic, recently renewed by a skilled Conjuration Mage. It meant the spell was working well and wouldn’t fade for some time. Along with a little washing tub to stand in and good soap with bits of herbs for exfoliation, I felt like I was in absolute luxury.

  I scrubbed off weeks of grime and sweat. The Hands of Humanity hadn’t taken my underwear packer, but at this point it was disgusting. For all the sink water and regular deposit of new clothes in my prison, I had not gotten clean in weeks. Nalei and I had fantasized about hot baths and showers, soaking clean with heat and lovely soaps. We’d bickered about whether floral or herbal soaps would be more heavenly. The thought of her sent a pang through me. If she was even still alive, she was in captivity.

  And I cared. I really cared, because she had become my friend in that cell. Nalei might be the first true friend, aside from Adain and Sharmora. Less than I could count on one hand, and one dead while another was imprisoned. I closed my eyes, breathing hard against tears. The conversation going on outside the walls of my emotionally intense bathing was a good distraction.

  “We’re meant to clean up and go to the command tent,” Adaline said. “I think he wants to interrogate Izak, we found nothing else on how much the Hands know, and didn’t even manage to kill Theo. I do hope he’ll know more, but, Maggie, no one can know that Izak was a girl!”

  “Of course not,” Maggie said. “But I don’t think that should be too hard to conceal. I don’t think any of the Healer Mages will be able to read the spells on him, not without already knowing what they are. His Excellency is a Great Mage, but he’s not as good at reading magic as he thinks he is and he’s not going to be able to rifle through Izak’s mind, not with that little protection spell he’s got.”

  “His what?” Adaline said. “How did you even see that?”

  “One of the enchantments on him, above his left ear, it gives him some protection form Mental Mages. Though, someone as practiced as Drianthenes may be able to get around it some. And don’t doubt me girl, I know my craft!”sShe said. “I have to be able to read the spells people get tattooed on, it can interfere with the healing. You should practice more yourself.”

  “But what if he goes through my mind?” Adaline asked, sounding genuinely distressed.

  “Have you given him a reason to?” Maggie asked. She breathed in sharply. “Adaline, tell me you didn’t go on that foolish mission without his permission.”

  “No, I got his permission at least,” Adaline said. “Just not from any of the others. I went to him alone and told him how much I wanted to help Friedrich and how angry I was about Sarai. He told me I could come as long as I took care of myself, and I did.”

  Maggie let out a soft breath. “Good. Just remember not to lie. There shouldn’t be any reason to mention what Izak was like as a child. Everything should go smoothly.”

  I grimaced. I certainly didn’t feel like everything was going smoothly. Danger hovered, my sense of it only heightened by the discrepancy with the peaceful scene of the Cult’s camp. Despite the brutality of the concrete and collar of imprisonment under the Hands, I didn’t know if I ever felt the same crawling discomfort under them, except perhaps when I found my contraceptive implant missing. The Hands of Humanity couldn’t intrude in my own mind. The Hands didn’t even care if I was trans or not. Here the liability of my identity and sexual organs made my skin crawl.

  I huddled in my little bath tin, which was partially full of warm water. The longer I could prolong being dragged out for another interrogation, in an even more exhausted state than the last one I’d endured under General Hendar and Theo, the better. But soon Maggie called out:

  “Izak, you should find some robes to the left. It’s time for Adaline to be cleaned, and that will take some effort!”

  I took a deep breath in and out. The bathing had renewed me, leaving me clean and damp, feeling the slightest bit of chill in the air against my wet body. With one hand I reached out and balled up one of the robes against me. This would have to be enough. It was time. I looked down at the teleportation runes on my arms, closed my eyes, and channeled magic to escape.

  I had only the slightest moment to feel another person’s magic reach out over me before waking up on a pallet. Blinking and confused, I tried to understand why I was looking at the top of a canvas tent and smelling barbeque in the air. The pallet was soft compared to my cell cot yet hard compared to my bed at home, and the tent looked utterly unfamiliar. There was a blanket instead of a robe over me. I pulled myself up to find Maggie staring at me. The magic inside her was thrumming with activity in its complex, weaving pattern.

  She grimaced slightly, as if a bit guilty. Her voice was low as she spoke. “You won’t get out that easily, you know. You’d leave Adaline in the lurch, and she’s been through enough already.”

  “I’ve been through enough already,” I said. I shook my head, trying to clear it and get my bearings again. Maggie had obviously halted my little teleportation escape. “I don’t even know Adaline, but I have a friend still stuck in that prison with the Hands of Humanity. I have to- to help her.” To let the Division know, I’d almost said. But that wouldn’t be a sympathetic cause here.

  “Adaline is still your blood,” she said, “and one of the only members of your family that you have left. She’s been playing a dangerous game, courting Friedrich without the family support that girls like Calenthe have, but she’s been playing it well. If you stand by her, you’ll do well and have plenty to gain. And she needs the support.”

  Maggie spoke low and quickly. I realized that Adaline was still in the tent, splashing around behind the curtain just as I had been. She didn’t want Adaline to hear this appeal, it was straight to me. Her mouth was tight and her eyes bore into me.

  I wanted to say that Nalei was also my family in her way, my much more extended Biralei family, but I didn’t think she’d believe me.

  “Why do you even care?” I asked. “Who is Adaline to you?”

  “Adaline is the best pupil I’ve ever had and might just be the greatest hope this wretched country has,” Maggie said fiercely. “She’s already had to cut ties with one brother. You don’t even want to know what I’ll do to you if you let her down.”

  I dropped my voice even lower. “With one brother? What happened with Theo?”

  Was Adaline telling the truth, is what I wanted to ask. But given what I’d just heard, I felt that Maggie may be biased in that quarter.

  She shook her head. “That boy was built for tragedy.”

  “Yes, but did he actually murder our mother?” I asked, tired of implications and non-answers.

  Maggie’s face twisted in a wince. “He drugged the whole camp so he could get out. Gave your sister and mother bigger doses because they slept in the same tent with him. He miscalculated.”

  I winced back. It was horrible, but also incredibly believable. Some of Theo’s words echoed in my mind: “It has to be worth it… these sacrifices can’t be for nothing.” He’d been talking about more than a handful of Mage strangers subjected to horrors. I closed my eyes and leaned back into the bed behind me. Hollow and full of losses, I just wanted to sleep.

  “All right!” Adaline stepped forward from behind the curtain. “I’m ready! Have you gotten Izak dressed up yet?”

  She was transformed, made up neatly in a blue dress with her hair in a complex braid woven with blue and pink ribbons. She was wearing make-up so subtle I wouldn’t have realized it, except the soft perfect features it gave her were so different from how she had looked before, raw and blood-spattered. She must have used some of her magic, or enchanted make-up, because I almost couldn’t recognize her from the fierce girl who’d turned into a beast and likely torn men apart with her own claws.

  Maggie gestured to a pile of clothes next to me. “Get dressed. You don’t want to leave His Excellency waiting.”