Dinner that night passed in a haze. I was moving automatically, getting dressed in the clothes Adaline and Maggie brought and letting them style my hair. Maggie gave me a searching look.

  “You seem… distracted tonight,” she said. “Are you thinking about something, Izak?”

  There was warning in her voice. She, at least, was suspicious. My heart pounded hard and I stared at her. I had put so much effort into understanding Adaline and convincing her to help me escape. Now I had to put all my efforts into trying to feel more and less than I really felt. My words were failing me.

  Adaline glanced at me worriedly, then leaned over to Maggie.

  “He agreed to do one of the sacrifices for Drianthenes today,” she hissed into Maggie’s ear, just loud enough for me to hear. “He’s been freaked out ever since.”

  “Oh.” Maggie’s expression softened from caged suspicion to sympathy. She nodded to me. “I can give you something to help with the nervousness, I think.”

  I had just opened my mouth to say no, no thank you. Performing an escape on drugs seemed like a terrible idea. Shit, I had thought about the escape again, just like Adaline told me not to.

  Adaline interrupted before I quite managed an answer. “What a great idea! How about one of the calm ointments?”

  Maggie looked startled at the suggestion. “I was just thinking of a soothing band. You know we’ve had limited calm ointment since Sarai left.”

  “Hmm.” Adaline glanced over to me, looking me up and down. “I guess if you think a soothing band will do the trick…”

  “It will. It’ll have to, I’m not wasting ointment on this. Go off and get it, girl.”

  Adaline sighed. “Fine.”

  She didn’t glance at me, though, so I didn’t think she was actually worried about it. I wondered if this exchange was going how she wanted it to. I wondered if she actually knew what she was doing. I wondered what they’d do to me if they caught me escaping, if I could still keep my own secrets safe under deeper interrogation.

  At this point it was taking most of my willpower and training to not hyperventilate.

  Maggie put a hand on my shoulder and leaned in, speaking to me in soft tones.

  “It’s alright.” She gave my shoulder another quick, gentle squeeze. “I know this must seem hard and strange, but it’ll be over soon. Shouldn’t take them more than a few days to find a good candidate, and I’ll give you calming exercises beforehand. You’ll get through, and it’ll be easier after. Things change once you’re a part of the ritual. I know it’s hard, I wish it didn’t have to happen, but it’s for the best.”

  Her tone was gentle and her words as sincere as my own pleas to Adaline had been. She believed her own words, but I knew better than to trust that. Just because someone believed what they said didn’t mean it was true.

  Oddly enough, my ability to evaluate her tone actually did help. It made me feel like I could still stand apart from my feelings and keep a cool appraisal of the situation. I had opened up too much to get Adaline on my side. That was risky. There was too much held too tightly inside me to risk opening the floodgates.

  I breathed in deeply, and Maggie recognized what I was doing and counted the breaths for me. In for four, hold for four, out for four. I did it twice, until I was sure Maggie had shifted into the mode of healer rather than suspicious guard.

  “Thank you,” I said. My voice sounded relieved, but I was still trying to cling to the part of myself that was cool, calm, and distanced. “I- I don’t know if I believe that yet, but it’s good to hear. I hope things will get better.”

  “I know, lad,” Maggie said. She nodded sagely. “I know.”

  Maggie held out a hand, and I jumped slightly as Adaline handed her a bandage. I hadn’t even realized that Adaline had come back. Maggie pulled up my sleeve and wrapped it once against my uninjured arm.

  I glanced back and forth between her and the bandage over my untouched skin, raising an eyebrow.

  “It’s imbued with diluted calm ointment,” Maggie said, “which we maintain the enchantment on. It just needs to make contact with your skin to help, and no one needs to know you’re wearing it.”

  “Oh, of course,” I said with a nod. “Thanks.”

  I tried not to show trepidation, which was getting easier. I felt my body lighten. Shamora had generally disapproved of direct magical emotional interference, calling it worse than drugs, and gave it out sparingly. The only time she’d given me any was right after I’d arrived at the Mage Division and right after Adain’s death. Her argument was that it was a crutch that could be used too easily to change and distort a person, but right now a crutch seemed perfect.

  I rolled out my shoulders as the fear lessened.

  “That helps?” Maggie asked. I nodded.

  “I think it’s time to face the rest of the camp, then!” Adaline said. Her own face was a chipper mask, though I suspected that was straining her. She offered me a hand up and I let her help.

  She used it as an excuse to lean close and whisper in my ear. “Be natural. It’s just another night.”

  I rolled my eyes, letting her hand drop. It was never just another night here. But I also nodded again, because I understood. We went out to dinner.

  It was similar to last night, the mass of Mages with non-Mages shoved to the periphery. The Mage who looked over and enchanted the food was the same one as yesterday; the faces were more familiar now. The biggest difference was that Drianthenes’s pedestal had been moved around to the other side of the fire.

  “Why is it at a different place?” I asked.

  “It’s his Excellency’s way,” Adaline said absently. Her eyes were scanning the crowd. “He tries to be unpredictable. Friedrich!”

  She had spotted her quarry in the crowd and ran toward him. He embraced her with open arms, and they began to chat. I wrinkled my nose, focusing on my disgust with her and Friedrich instead of my nerves at being left alone just when I’d gotten someone else on my side.

  I followed them to the seating area, trying to pay attention to Friedrich’s bragging about the deer he’d caught for dinner tonight. I tried to think about how I’d never had venison before. I tried to think about the two different meals I’d had here. I tried to think about the similarities and differences between Maggie and Samora. Anything that meant my mind was occupied.

  Later, all I remembered was that the food was hot and Drianthenes’s speech before the verses he read was short. I didn’t remember the verses at all, if they were ones our mother had taught us when we were young. I only remembered Drianthenes’s announcement of a healthy baby boy and girl, twins, and that we would all be taking the next sacrifice soon.

  “I have appointed Izak Helmorous to take the weight of sacrifice on his shoulders,” Drianthenes said. “To prove his loyalty and strength to our cause.”

  For one horrible, blank moment I didn’t know what to feel. It was oddly similar to being called out by a teacher in class. Then I clung to the memory and similarity to a class, pushing my shoulders back and pretending that everyone staring at me were just Mage Division peers. I tried a cold, haughty mask of pride. And if Drianthenes could sense any nervousness under it, then fine. Nervousness was appropriate.

  Drianthenes went on to read a passage from the text of a huge book, engraved with a gold cover, which had a buzz of magic around it. Eyeing it, I could tell someone put some stasis magic on the thing to stop it from aging. It may look pristine, but from how carefully Drianthenes handled it I wondered if the magic was the only thing stopping the book from falling apart.

  It was some parable about a competition between the God of Mountains and the God of the Hunt over the hand of the Lady of Magic. I had no idea who won. In the end there was some point about virginity, so maybe they decided the virginity of magic was too important for either of them to marry her. I didn’t know.

  My head buzzed too loud for me to hear. I tapped my foot nervously as I ate quickly, pushing myself to eat as fast as I had the previous night. I could feel the nausea beginning to build up, and wondered if it was too soon. Would I make too much of a scene if I vomited during Drianthenes’s reverent read-along? I pressed my lips together, hard, and tried to wait.

  I was trying not to throw up, which had the added benefit making me think more about how I was feeling sick. Shoving a couple more pieces of meat in my mouth, I chewed and swallowed. Tonight I had accepted the alcohol offered to me, and I washed my food down with beer.

  Finally, Drianthenes made dramatic closing remarks that barely registered in my mind. I turned to the side, hanging my head out over the grass near where Friedrich was sitting. My head hung heavy and I pushed my stomach to throw up.

  I had barely even started making the noises leading up to retching when Friedrich jumped like a mouse had crawled up his pants.

  “Not in the eating area, not in the eating area!” he shouted. “Adaline!”

  “Of course, love!” She’d jumped up already, and soon she was hauling me up quickly and roughly. I didn’t know if she intended it, but the quick motions only make me feel more ill, and the first spit of vomit came out.

  Friedrich made a noise at least as disgusting as what was coming out of my mouth. Adaline and I rushed away quickly, sped along by the pressure of the crowd and the clearings they made for us.

  “Think he drank too much?” I heard someone murmur as we passed.

  “Maybe. He’s probably nervous about the sacrifice.”

  “Hope he’s not too weak.”

  I let the words fill my head, not pushing back on them, even if they made me dig my fingers into Adaline’s arm in anger and dropped my stomach further in shame. They were intense and distracting, everything I needed.

  Right outside the Healing tent, only barely in the view of anyone looking at us from around the main campfire, my stomach finally gave up and let it all out. I retched right there on the spot, my insides heaving and emptying.

  “That’s alright, get it all out,” Adaline said. She held me steady, but her voice was absent-minded. “Come on, I’ve got a better shower in my tent.”

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  And, for what felt like the first time since I’d gotten here, I was led away from the large healing tent.

  Adaline’s own tent wasn’t far, only just behind the healing tent itself, but it was shrouded from the campfire. It was much smaller than the healing or command tent - most tents in the encampment were, but this was the first time I’d seen inside one of them.

  A lamp flickered on immediately at our presence and the floor was thicker and harder than the healing tent. It had an actual bed and desk in the corner, complete with several mirrors ranging from hand to full human size. A complex temperature charm hung from the ceiling like a chandelier, giving off light and heat. It was all simple and elegant, and if it weren’t for the shape and the zipped-closed cloth doors I could forget it was a tent.

  On the floor, ready made, was a ritual casting circle in chalk.

  “Go on, get cleaned up,” Adaline said with a sharp flick of one hand. The lines of her posture were tense. “But don’t be long. I have a couple more things to get ready.”

  I thought I had done pretty well, and felt kind of put out by the brusque dismissal, but I supposed it wasn’t time for satisfaction yet. I unzipped the side door to step through.

  A stalled and tiled shoulder, complete with two different shower heads (one of which was detachable) was waiting for me. I blinked in surprise. There wasn’t a ceiling, but there were hard, upright stone walls. This must be a hell of a thing to transport from place to place when it was time for the camp to move.

  I found that Adaline had left clothes for me out in the bathroom, a more practical outfit of dark blue wool and worn brown pants like something for a day out exploring World Lake. There was some mint out in a bowl, which I chewed gratefully to erase the lingering taste of vomit. I wasted no time stripping off my fancier, vomit-stained clothes to step into the shower.

  The water was immediately hot, with a similar (but more powerful) charm to the bathing jug in the healing tent. I sighed with relief.

  Our plan needed time more than I needed the soothing warmth of a hot shower, so I regretfully cut it short. It took more force of will than I had expected to turn off the hot water. It still made me feel human when I had been captive, in one form or another, for weeks. I had to drag myself out to dry up and put on the new clothes.

  When I came back into the main body of the tent, Adaline had also changed into more practical clothes. She sat in the center of a circle of pine scented candles, wearing a divided skirt and turtleneck. In front of her was an array of supplies, including a bundle of herb leaves, a flashlight, and a piece of chalk matching the runes that had been written onto the floor. Outside of the circle, two backpacks, one markedly larger than the other, leaned against the bed.

  I stepped quietly into the circle, not wanting to disturb whatever meditations she might be doing to prepare for ritual magic. Moving slowly, I set myself down across from her. The slow movements were from sore muscles still recovering from weeks underground and making myself sick, as much as respect for her ritual. As I watched, she reached down and pulled a leafy herb from a bowl in front of herself and popped it into her mouth. It smelled of mint.

  She blinked her eyes open, still chewing the mint leaf, and nodded to me.

  “What’s the plan?” I whispered to her. “Do you have magic to teleport us out of here?”

  “No,” she said, matching my soft tone. “But I have magic to fool Drianthenes’s mental net. It spreads over the entire encampment, letting him see the shape of people’s minds from afar. I don’t know how much it shows him mentally, though I don’t think it shows the depths inside of minds. I know it makes it impossible to escape.”

  “How?” I asked. I really meant how can we get past it? But I knew not to rush a Mage’s explanations.

  “It means he can check where anyone is at any given moment. And it lets him know if anything with a mind more complex than a squirrel leaves or enters the camp.”

  “So there’s no way for us to leave without him knowing.”

  “Not without magic.” She took a deep breath in, then let it out slowly. “Mind magic isn’t my area of expertise and I’m following instructions someone else left behind, so I’ll need you to make this easy on me. Try to empty your mind and let your thoughts drift.”

  “You’re not familiar with mind magic.” I took my own deep breath in and out, less trying to concentrate than trying not to freak out. “Is it safe for you to do mental magic unsupervised?”

  “This is only a small, surface level spell, so it should probably be fine,” she said. She concentrated down at her hands, where she had mixed a fine paste. It was bright green from more mint leaves, and she was carefully writing out runes with it.

  I knew I shouldn’t distract her, but it was hard to hold in my alarm and not speak harshly. If there was one kind of magic I didn’t want to be used unsafely on me, it was mental magic. There was a reason why using magic on the delicate complexities of the human mind was its own entire field of study.

  I breathed in deeply and didn’t scream out all my questions, because I wanted her to stay focused and do this right. Only probably fine? If it goes wrong will the effects be permanent? Could it affect my emotions, memory, sense of self? Could we end up in living death, like Genner and Hins?

  Out loud, I only asked: “Is this the only way?”

  She glanced up at me, her own eyes pinched in the same tension and fear I felt.

  “Yes. We either do this, or we stay here until we die.”

  “And you’re sure it will work? Did you come up with this?”

  “No, but Sarai did, and I trusted her with my life. I trust her with my life, and more.”

  I nodded slowly. I couldn’t trust someone I’d never met, but as Adaline said, the only ways out of the cult were this or death. Adaline, at least, I could try to trust.

  She continued to carefully write runes across the floor. Between my unfamiliarity with the system the cult used and with mental magic, I couldn’t read them. With something more like desperation than trust, I tried to empty my mind.

  It was hard. I wouldn’t have been able to do it except for my Mage training. I focused on my breath and the sensations of my body. Pinning all my awareness on one body part at a time, I thought through my feet and then up to my head. I’d shifted into a more comfortable cross-legged position and tried to register each discomfort I was feeling as neutrally as possible.

  I was still slightly nauseous. There was a slight burning in my throat. These things were true. The floor pressed against my legs and the sides of my feet. My mouth tasted like mint and my hands rested on my thighs. My heart beat hard and fast, hard enough for me to feel it as its beat changed with my inhalation and exhalation.

  I existed in the world. All I needed to do was exist in the world. Every feeling was just another part of the world. Deliberately slowing my breathing, I focused on that and tried to let my mind move from all my worries to my physical state, then to something else past that. Past the thoughts that tried to creep at the edges or the awareness of time as it moved.

  Only after Adaline tapped my knee and said “It’s done” did I feel the magic’s work. It was like my mind’s blankness was sticking around even without my effort, and thoughts had to slip in through the side of my mind. It was hard to describe.

  I shook my head to clear the sensation, even though it wasn’t physical. I could still think clearly, but it took longer. It was a bit like being drunk, except without any of the physical side effects and less distractible.

  “Is this how it’s supposed to feel?” I asked.

  “This is how it felt before when she did it,” Adaline said. “So I believe so? This was my first time trying it, though.”

  I stared at her, feeling the edges of anger in my mind, but it couldn’t fully take shape with the spell. “You never practiced it before? That’s risky.”

  “It worked, which is what matters,” she said. “Now come on. I don’t know how long I can hold it and I can’t risk trying a ritual spell like teleporting while my magic keeps our mental camouflage going. We need to get out of range now. The spell will keep a facsimile of our minds here while suppressing the surface of our thoughts from detection. This is our only chance.”

  I nodded. “Lead the way. You know the camp better than I do.”

  She could betray me, but not without betraying her own attempt to escape, her own magic on the mental camouflage spell. We bore this risk together, so in this I trusted her entirely.

  She nodded grimly, pulling a pre-packed bag off the floor and handing the other one with more clothes to me. At least one change of clothes, more than I’d owned for weeks.

  She walked briskly out of the tent flap, not running. I followed her as she strolled confidently through the encampment. We passed only a few people, as almost everyone was still gathered by the fire.

  Every time we passed someone I felt a far-off jolt of fear and tension in my mind. The mental magic kept my distant thoughts and feelings from spilling into my body, letting my heart rate stay calm and my movements smooth. I could have used magic like this a couple times growing up. Except for how it seemed to slow my thoughts; that was frustrating.

  Most people we passed simply waved at Adaline, and often gave me a cordial nod. After we’d walked several minutes one girl laughed when she saw Adaline and me.

  The girl’s pretty dress for the evening was roughed up and her speech slurred with alcohol. “Adaline? Where are you off to, and with that boy?”

  She didn’t seem to recognize me in the darkness. I had a spiraling moment where I tried to think up an excuse that I could present casually. I felt slow and befuddled, my thoughts far away from me. Adaline answered before I could.

  “It’s my brother,” she said. I felt another distant jolt at that admission, but then she continued: “I’m going to make him wash his own disgusting clothes, by hand! He won’t shame me again.”

  The girl laughed until it turned into a hiccup. “You always’swer- you always were like that, Ada!”

  “And what are you doing out here, Kalleen?” Adaline returned, putting her hands on her hips.

  “Oh, out visiting Jeremy, of course!” Kalleen said. She actually winked. “But that’s old gossip for you. I’m still trying to pick between you and Calenthe for bridesmaid, you know.”

  “I’m sure Calenthe could make herself look like a stunning beauty at your wedding,” Adaline said, putting a gentle emphasis on your. “It’s your choice of course.”

  At first I wondered what game Adaline was playing, couldn’t she just end the conversation and let us go? But then I thought about how being unsuspicious was just as important as being quick.

  With my thoughts distant it was easier to suppress my buzzing fears of being caught. Like how alcohol could sometimes dull the hard thoughts, only right now it was more distant than dull. Maybe I should drink more.

  “Of course!” The girl laughed again. I couldn’t tell if she was playing up being buzzed or genuinely too drunk to hear Adaline’s veiled insult on Calenthe’s selfishness. “Well, I must be getting back. Can’t let people talk too much, can I?”

  She winked again, only this time it was more of a blink. Then she was walking off toward the fire. I breathed in and out deeply, not quite a sigh of relief, and Adaline led on.

  After that we got all the way to the edge of the clearing without any more encounters. Adaline led us into the woods, and a few feet in I had to speak up.

  “Do you know where we’re going?” I asked.

  “No, but it doesn’t matter,” she replied. “We can figure out a teleport spell later.” Her own words sounded a bit slow in my ears, though I didn’t know if it was the spell’s impact on me or her. “Listen, Izak, I don’t know how far Drianthenes’s net extends. We have to go as far as we can before this spell ends.”

  I nodded. “The only thing that matters is getting away.”

  With that we both trudged into the woods, walking as quickly as we could without tripping over ourselves in the darkness. As we passed the boundary of the encampment all the light and sound from the cult faded, and I felt the buzz of an illusion spell. Behind us seemed only a moonlit clearing and before us were only dark woods.

  I wished I could cast a light spell, but my own magic was still locked away, and I didn’t think that Adaline dared try any other spell as she maintained the unfamiliar mental magic.

  So we stumbled through the woods like helpless, mundane humans. My heart began to beat harder. I didn’t know if it was the movement or the spell beginning to crack and let my anxiety leak through.

  Even alone in the woods, with no sign of the encampment behind us through the illusory magic, I didn’t feel like we’d escaped. I thought I had escaped the Hands when I’d left the bunker, but then I’d let myself fall right into another trap. I wouldn’t let my guard down so quickly this time.

  Adaline and I pushed forward, breathing hard and not speaking. We walked and walked. It might have been only the mental spell’s effect on my mind, but it felt like a long time.

  My fears, pain, and discomfort began to spill through as the spell slowly faded, but all of them were dimmed by relief. Relief to be out of there and relief to be thinking and feeling increasingly clearly. One of my fears, muzzled and distant from the spell, was that this mental camouflage spell wouldn’t fade and I would be left experiencing the rest of my life through a frustrating barrier.

  I felt tears prick my eyes, and I swallowed. Part of me wanted to yell out and holler in triumph. Maybe I would have, once. The version of me that had been with Adain and could still take on the world would have. But I was more weary and careful now, so I walked in silence.

  We found a creek bed and had to skip over stones on the low water, trying to stay firmly on each slippery rock. As we neared the other side I opened my mouth to ask if we were out now. If we were safe in the clear.

  Then something flew over our heads from the trees behind us and landed with a thump directly in front of us.