August 3, 9 ATC

Golden Glory, Outside Fort Jaunerrha, the Confluence

Austin looked through the spyglass out over the Confluence, hoping she could catch a glimpse of Fort Jaunerrha. Faker had anchored the riverships a good way away from the fort, to ensure they would not accidentally be seen, but a thick fog had set in that made seeing anything impossible. Austin thought she could see the spires of the Fort's watchtowers in the distance, but she couldn't be sure.

She heard footsteps behind her. "Any luck?"

Austin turned around. Faker, despite his heavy, clinking armor, moved almost silently across his ship. The Golden Glory, as he named it, was built more for defense than it had been for speed, and it had taken them a day to arrive at the Confluence. Still, if it meant she was less likely to drown on her way to the Fort, she had no objections.

"This damned fog," she muttered. She handed the spyglass back to the spotter she borrowed it from and leaned against the side of the ship. "Can't see a damn thing through it."

"Neither can they," Faker pointed out. "We still have the element of surprise. Not to mention more ships and soldiers than I know what to do with." He looked out over the anchored fleet, which mostly consisted of Ladybug vessels, and scoffed. "It only slowed us down. We could've been done with this by now."

"You're eager to confront Nitesco," Austin said. Faker grumbled, and Austin couldn't help a grin.

"First off," he scolded, "don't fucking psychoanalyze me." Austin put her arms up in mock surrender, and Faker frowned. "It's unbecoming of you."

"Are you really going to lecture me on what's unbecoming?" she asked. Faker opened his mouth to respond, but quickly shut it.

"Fair enough," he said. "But Nitesco's beaten me twice thus far. In my culture, there is no dishonor in a single defeat. Could've been luck. Could've been a fluke. Doesn't matter. If a man beats you twice, then it becomes a personal matter. You are obliged to avenge your defeat on him."

"But you didn't do that," Austin said. She could tell she was getting under Faker's skin, but he was going to monologue about it anyways. She might as well get something out of it.

"Nitesco will die here," Faker said, and his hand rested on the hilt of his sword. "He must. And I will be the one to kill him."

"Then why don't we go?" Austin said. "We've been at anchor for a half hour. What's stopping us from attacking now?"

"Zissman's having us wait," Faker said, clearly displeased. "Believe me, I sympathize. But apparently we need a third commander to pull this off."

"What's so special about this one?" Austin asked. Faker shrugged.

"Don't know," he said, and he began tapping his hip impatiently. "But we aren't going anywhere until he's here."

Fifteen minutes later, the lookout saw their contact's ship on the horizon. The ship's flag, so high and bright Austin could see it through the fog, came into view. On a brilliant blue background was a white eagle, with a sword in its talons. Austin knew instantly who it belonged to.

"Well, I'll be damned," she said.

Faker gave her a funny look. "You know something I don't?"

"You'll see," Austin replied, with a hint of chagrin. She wasn't happy about this, and Faker, she guessed, wouldn't be either.

The ship, even larger and more formidable than the Golden Glory, lurched up uncomfortably close to them and weighed anchor. On the deck were men in crimson uniforms, bustling about with ammunition, caring little for the other ships around them. Faker furrowed his brow, puzzled.

"Arkosians?" he wondered aloud. "I'm surprised. Only a few we captured defected, but so did…" He trailed off, and took on a concerned expression. "Colonel Strike?"

"It's General Strike to you, now," a voice called out from the deck. General Strike kicked a gangplank across the gap between the ships and marched across. Faker deflated a little bit, and Austin noted that she had known exactly how he'd react.

"So it is," Faker said. Strike looked from Faker to Austin, and his expression lightened a little.

"Austin," he said. She gave a curtsy, and he lifted an eyebrow. "I'll admit, when Zissman told me you had come over too, I didn't believe him. I thought it was an invention, to snare me or demoralize me. But it appears that everything he told me is true."

"Everything?" Austin asked. "Don't tell me you've started attending his services."

Strike chuckled. "No, not that far. But I've heard enough from him. I know Zealander sacrificed me during the fight at Guns N' Roses. I know he and Nitesco abandoned the city when the going got tough. And I know, firsthand, how much conniving and scheming he and Coronam have put into domineering the Subreddit. He is a danger to the Subreddit, and a danger to Arkos. He must be removed."

"And replaced by you, I suppose?" Faker asked. Strike shrugged.

"Can you think of any other?" he responded. "Nobody knows Arkos like I do. And everything I do, I do for her."

"That begs the question, Strike," Austin said. "Are you willing to do what needs to be done? We will be attacking an Arkosian fortress. You will likely be fighting your own men. Are you up for the task?"

"Zissman wouldn't have sent me if I wasn't," Strike said, indignant. "And besides, I know that place better than either of you. I am here now. Let us plan."

Faker grunted and led the two of them into the boat's cabin, where a map of the area was set out on a table. The fort sat on the southern corner of a short, arrow-shaped peninsula that jutted out into the Confluence and made attack from the north impossible. Strike grunted as he looked at the map, strategizing.

"Fort Jaunerrha is built on a cliff overlooking the lake," Strike said. "There are no beaches there for us to land on. The closest we can get is about a half-mile down the peninsula, where the bluffs meet the sandbar, if we intend to storm the fort."

"Our goal is to eliminate the remaining commanders," Faker said. "Storming the fort is a must. And what of ships? Do they have any? Did we muster up this fleet for show?"

"Their docks are situated down the main coastline," Austin said, pointing to a small dot just beneath the fort. "Their ships will be patrolling around it, or else in port. We'll match our battleships with theirs and sent our transports toward the peninsula. Whatever ships are left over, we'll have shell the fort."

"Is there any way for them to retreat?" Faker said. "We cannot afford to let Nitesco escape. I can't," he added.

"It is possible," Strike said. He pointed to a small dot just above the fort, on the other side of the peninsula. "This is the town of Sarissa. And over here," he said, pointing to a dot further inland, "is the town of Septesors. Both have large garrisons. Both have ravens going to and from the Fort and each other. If the fort is attacked, then we may have to deal with reinforcements from the towns."

"Do they have more men than we do?" Faker asked. Strike's expression soured.

"There's more to strategy than troop estimates," he said. "But no, I don't believe so. We've amassed a suitable host. We should be evenly matched."

"Then give them no heed," Faker said. "Here's what I think: like Austin suggested, we engage their battleships and shell the fort with the remainder. We land all our troops on the peninsula, and have the transports hang back and pick off ships that might try to escape. Strike, how many entrances are there?"

"Two," Strike said. "One towards the port and one out towards the towns."

"Excellent." Faker grinned; Austin could tell he was envisioning not only their victory, but his personal triumph. "We tell the reserve ships to pepper the road to the docks, so nobody can get out that way. Then, we march our host up to the gates, and storm in. They'll be caught."

"Maybe it could work," Austin said. "The fog will certainly give us an element of surprise. But I still think the garrisons could pose a problem. What if they flank us while we're in the fort? Then we'll be the ones who are trapped!"

"And what do you suggest?" Faker asked. Austin stroked her chin.

"I say we split our forces," she said. "We take half the transports and sail them around the north end of the peninsula, and we strike Sarissa. From there, the men march on Septesors, and both garrisons are gone.

"The rest of us gather outside the fort. We breach the walls, not the gate, and keep the artillery trained on the gate in case they try to counterattack. Our men storm the breach, take the fort, and the League is headless."

Strike and Faker exchanged glances. "It's a risky plan," Strike said. "Dividing our forces could lead us to a rout."

"Or we could rout them," Faker said. He stroked his chin. "I like this plan. Bold. Daring. But I think we can pull it off."

Strike furrowed his brow. "Very well," he said. "But we should all be there for the fort assault. I'll have my second-in-command take half of the fleet to Sarissa. You two can make landfall. I'll lead the naval assault."

"And give up your chance at Zealander?" Austin asked. Strike shrugged.

"As long as he's dead," he said reluctantly.

"Then we are in accord," Faker said, a sadistic grin on his face. "I'll relay the orders. Today, victory will be ours."

From the citadel balcony, Nitesco stared out over the foggy lake, clutching a map of Bumblebee, deep in thought. Bumblebee was fighting a quagmire war with the Church, and though they had lost much of the southern plains, the highlands remained independent. Perhaps he could join up with them, recruit the stubborn Bumblebeeans to the League. Or maybe he could sabotage the Church there, and keep their wheels stuck in the mud. Or maybe—

"Nitesco," Vulpix said, interrupting his reverie. He had agreed, after much protest, to come down from his room and join them for lunch. "You've been sulking all morning. You need to eat. Come sit down."

"Sorry," Nitesco mumbled. He sat down next to Gwydion, still preoccupied, and took a spoonful of porridge. Gwydion sighed and put down his fork.

"Nitesco," he said, "I'm going to be frank. This behavior of yours is bad for your health. For the past week, when you haven't been slaving over plans and maps and strategy meetings, you've been pacing or staring at a window. You barely eat, you hardly sleep, and you haven't been out of the tower in weeks!"

"I'm busy guiding a war," Nitesco snapped. "Have you forgotten what's happening right on our doorstep?"

"We know there's a war," Vulpix said. He had taken on a fatherly tone. "And we all do our part. But Nitesco, you can't run yourself into the ground over this!" He paused. "Is this about Austin?"

Nitesco flinched at the mention of her name, and both Gwydion and Vulpix sighed. He had told them the necessary details—McDouggal's death, her working with Faker—but that was it. They had further suspicions about it, Nitesco knew, but neither of them asked him.

"Don't look at me like that," Nitesco chastised them. "I haven't gone mad. But I know she's out there, giving them information, helping them plan campaigns. We can't let her. We have to crush the Church before they can use her further!"

"And we will," Gwydion said. "We will do everything we can. But you cannot run yourself ragged. You're the last of our commanders. If you aren't up to the fight, who is?"

Nitesco sighed and spooned another glob of porridge into his mouth. "But you understand where I'm coming from, right?"

"We do," Gwydion said. "And believe me, I know. She seemed… so earnest. Nobody could've expected it."

"She's a woman of principle," Vulpix added. "We can find some comfort that she did it from some misguided virtue, rather than personal gain."

Nitesco and Gwydion both looked at him. "Are you defending her?" Nitesco asked.

"Not at all," Vulpix said. "But I know what it's like to be disillusioned with a cause. Do I agree with her? No. Do I hate her for this?" He paused for a moment. "Perhaps. But at least it was for the right reasons."

"But why?" Nitesco asked. "I don't understand what would drive her to do it!"

"Defeat changes a person," Vulpix said. "Believe me, I know. But maybe there's something more to it."

"What do you mean?" Gwydion asked. A cold gust of wind blew into the chambers, blowing out the candles.

"Well," Vulpix said. "Quixotic wasn't really a traitor, was he? He just appeared to be. Maybe…" He swallowed. "Maybe it's the same for her. I don't think she's capable of true betrayal."

"Quixotic was different. Don't get your hopes up," Nitesco chided. but the thought had crossed his mind as well. He never indulged those thoughts for long, though. He couldn't afford to get attached to the idea.

"I wouldn't bank on that," Gwydion agreed. "Take things at face value. It's much less risky."

"I'm not saying it's fact," Vulpix said, raising his hands in a calming gesture. "I'm only saying it could be a possibility."

A loud clanging suddenly filled the room, and the three of them stood up in alarm. From the window, they could see the soldiers bustling about, and they saw ships beginning to buzz around the seas.

"That's not the lunch bell, is it?" Gwydion asked. Nitesco paced over to the window. Through the thick fog, he could see bright flashes of light, and ships flooded the inlet; ships that did not belong to them.

"No," Nitesco said. "We're under attack. Rally the soldiers!"

Gwydion sprinted out of the room without delay, knocking his plate from the table in the process. "I'll send ravens to the garrisons!" Vulpix yelled, both to Gwydion and Nitesco. "Go join the men! I'll take charge of the guns!" With that, he was gone too.

Nitesco turned his attention back to the seas. The wall cannons were peppering the fog, but they could not discern who was friend and who was foe. As he watched the battle commence, he had a sinking feeling that Austin was among the enemies.

"Well," he said to himself, "I knew it'd happen sooner or later." With a final glance out the window, he ran down the stairs to join the battle.

By the time Austin and Faker had finally landed on the beach, the fort walls had been split wide open. The artillery had already taken up their positions in front of the gate and the breach, hammering any soldiers who attempted to counterattack with cannonballs. Faker and Austin walked along the beach, looking over the fort, planning their assault.

"Where do you think the commanders will be?" Faker asked. He seemed very focused, but not in his usual frivolous manner. He only wanted one thing out of this, Austin knew, and that might distract him.

"Well," Austin said. "Gwydion and Vulpix may be in the tower, or on the walls. They'll fight when they need to, but in defensive situations like this they prefer to hunker down. Nitesco, on the other hand, will probably be with the soldiers."

"Will he now?" Faker stroked his chin. "Most interesting. Speaking of soldiers, we should attend to our own."

Their soldiers had massed behind the artillery, outside the breach. They were a patchwork lot: some young, some old, some men and some women. But they were all Church men, all itching for a fight. Faker looked at them and smiled.

"Soldiers!" he cried. They snapped to attention with synchronization that impressed Austin. "Today, the League's reign of terror is at an end!"

The soldiers lifted their weapons and cheered, just as the artillery shot off another round into the breach. Faker ignored it.

"Nitesco and his traitor friends have defied the will of the Subreddit for too long! They have started a war, for their own ambition! They speak of peace and commit atrocities! Their hypocrisy ends today!"

Faker turned and jabbed his sword at the breach, and Austin watched as the ranks of soldiers readied themselves to charge. Not a single one of them had any fear on their face. What could inspire them so?

"The League began this war!" Faker shouted. "And today, we finish it! Charge!"

The men bellowed a war cry and streamed around Faker, flooding in through the breach. From what little Austin could see of the fort's interior, it was going to be a bloodbath.

"Ready, Austin?" Faker said, an almost inappropriately friendly smile on his face. Austin frowned and drew her sword.

"When you are," she said. Faker chuckled.

"Don't look so glum," he said. "You won't have to kill anyone important. Leave that to me." With that, Faker joined the tide of Church soldiers, and Austin had no choice but to follow.

As soon as Austin clambered through the broken wall, the din of battle became deafening. The Church soldiers surged forward, viciously trying to break through the impromptu defenses the League had created, and the League soldiers desperately swarmed the soldiers in an effort to prevent that. Faker descended into the fray, hacking his enemies away with a mix of precision and recklessness. Austin knocked a soldier aside and yanked Faker back before he was lost in the throng of soldiers.

"What was that for?!" he shouted as Austin pulled him back. "We need to get the commanders!"

"We won't find them down here!" Austin said, and she pointed at a staircase leading up to the walls. "Let's get to higher ground. If we don't find them up there, then we can scout them out from a vantage point. Yes?"

Faker nodded. "Very well. Lead the way."

The stairs up to the walls were nearly empty, with all its defenders either manning the parapets and artillery or down on the ground. There were a couple soldiers sent down to join the melee, but Faker charged ahead to deal with them. Austin winced as he dispatched them with ruthless grace, but continued forward nonetheless.

The two arrived at the door of the command tower, which had been left flung open in the panic, and finally stopped. Faker pressed himself against one side of the doorway and listened.

"Can you hear them?" Faker asked. His hand remained clasped around the hilt of his sword, and Austin leaned into the doorway to see if she could hear anything.

"I don't think so," she said. "Maybe they're—wait!" Loud footsteps and the sound of distant conversation alarmed her, and she pressed herself against the wall opposite Faker.

Austin was able to make out a deep baritone as the voices got closer. "—much smaller than anticipated. Most are transports, but they caught most ships in dock. We only need to take a few warships down to regain the advantage."

Faker squinted upon hearing the voice, unable to discern who it was, but Austin knew. It was Gwydion.

"Then our admirals will have to deal with that." A higher voice spoke, and they both knew that one was Nitesco. Faker began drawing his sword slowly from his sheath. "We're damn near overwhelmed here. You're sure the garrisons aren't arriving?"

"It's been long enough," Gwydion said. "They've likely been attacked as well. Perhaps that's why they have so few ships."

Nitesco scoffed. "I could give a damn about their navy. It doesn't matter if we sink their whole fleet if it's a bloodbath in here!" He sighed. "Come with me. I need to get a closer look at this carnage."

Faker seized the opportunity to make a dramatic entrance, leaping through the open door with his sword drawn. "The only carnage you'll see today will be in here, Nitesco!" Faker shouted. "Today, the League dies!"

Nitesco and Gwydion drew their swords, and Gwydion scoffed. "You're getting ahead of yourself," Nitesco scolded. "You couldn't beat me one-on-one, and now you have two opponents. Do you think you can do this alone?"

"Of course not," Faker said. "That's why I brought a friend."

Austin walked into the room, hand on her hilt, and watching Nitesco and Gwydion almost broke her heart. Nitesco's focus instantly dissolved upon seeing her, his determination giving way to surprise and sadness. Gwydion, though, only mustered up more fury than before.

"Traitor," he growled. Nitesco straightened up and put on a brave face.

"Easy, Gwydion," he said. "Don't do anything rash."

"That's right, little pup," Faker said. "Stay on your leash."

"Shut up, child." Gwydion spoke to Faker, but his eyes never wavered from Austin. "Go fight Nitesco like you came here to do. I'll deal with this."

"Very well," Faker said, noting Austin's silence. "Nitesco, shall we take this out to the walls? I feel like this will be too cramped with the four of us in here."

Nitesco glanced from Faker, to Austin, to Gwydion, who gave him a small nod. Nitesco sighed.

"Very well," he said, and he began backing towards the other exit directly behind him. Faker kept his eyes on Gwydion as he followed Nitesco out, and Gwydion and Austin were all alone.

The two stood there in silence for a few moments, each one measuring the other's posture, their position, and the room around them. Gwydion shifted into an offensive position.

"I was expecting an explanation," Gwydion said at last. "Nothing to say? No speech on why you did it?"

"Neither of us wants to hear me talk about it," Austin said. Gwydion gave a dry chuckle.

"You're right about that at least," Gwydion said. "But only that. You'll pay for your treason."

"I'm no traitor. I'm only doing what's right," Austin said. Gwydion's face contorted in anger.

"Then I won't be sorry to see you gone!" Gwydion exclaimed. He charged her, and the duel began.

Vulpix watched the chaos from the fort walls, and nervously wrung the now soot-covered gloves on his hands. The fort interior was a disaster: The Church's men had made the courtyard a bloodbath, and the stairs up the walls were literally slick with the blood of the men who tried to charge up. But the bay was its own beast: the harbor was littered with splintered wood. Vulpix, though, was astounded by how few ships the Church had brought to battle. Was it all transports?

Another cannon volley went into the harbor, holing an Enablerish schooner beneath the waterline. The artillerymen cheered and began loading another barrage.

"General Zealander!" A young man ran up to him, clearly out of breath.

"Scout," Vulpix replied. "Report."

"I have news from the harbor," the scout said, in between breaths. "One of our runners went out to the bay and got a closer look. They haven't got many proper ships sir. Mostly transports, a few decent warships. But they've got a river flagship with them, sir. Arkosian colors."

"Our colors?" Vulpix looked out into the fog, seeking to verify that for himself, but it was too thick to peer through. "Did it have a standard with it?"

"Um, it did, sir." The scout stammered when he spoke. Vulpix was in no mood for it. He grabbed the scout by the collar and dragged him close.

"Whose standard?" Vulpix asked. "Which of my admirals has gone over to these dogs?"

"Not an admiral, sir," the scout squealed. "A colonel. Colonel Strike!"

As hard as he tried, Vulpix could not disguise the look of shock on his face. Strike, alive? And with the Church?

"Impossible," Vulpix muttered. "I killed him, at—"

But he never saw the body, Vulpix realized, and Strike was a smart man. He would've realized that Vulpix betrayed him. Perhaps he would've gone over to the Church. But that didn't matter now. What mattered was that he was out there, on the water, with a flagship hammering the docked fleet to smithereens.

"Run down to the cave docks, beneath the fort," Vulpix commanded the scout. "It's just down that spiral staircase. Tell the men there to send out the fireship. I'll get Strike in range."

The scout furrowed his brow. "How?"

"Leave that to me," Vulpix said. "Now go!" The scout did as he was told, running down the stairs to the shallows dock.

As Vulpix turned his attention back to the harbor, he saw Strike's ship appear in the mists: a hulking behemoth of a vessel, pointed straight at the fort. It swayed slightly, turning to fire a broadside at a brig. He swallowed.

"Men!" he bellowed. "You see that behemoth there? When it comes in range, blow it out of the water!"

The artillerymen stopped their cheering to give him an odd look. "Sir," one of them said, "the water near the beaches is too shallow for that vessel. It'll never get in range."

"Oh, yes it will," Vulpix said. "Just do as I say. Leave that to me!" The soldiers exchanged glances, but they obeyed. As he watched them go to work, Vulpix unlatched a firework from his belt.

"Well, Strike," he said to himself. "Time to see if you remember what I taught you."

Vulpix stuck the fuse of the firework into a torch, lighting it, and he held it up in the air. After a few seconds, he felt it leave his hand, rocketing upwards before exploding in a brilliant plume of yellow sparks: the distress flare of an Arkosian officer. Strike would know exactly who it was.

Within seconds, Strike's flagship was turning, aiming itself towards the fortress walls, before it struck forward at lightning speed. A loader gasped and turned to Vulpix.

"He's charging the walls!" she exclaimed. "Is he mad?"

"Not as mad as he's going to be," Vulpix said. "He's in range! Fire!"

The artillerymen obeyed, firing a volley into the speeding ships. Strike's ship banked and turned, opening a broadside on the exposed walls. The wall shuddered and crumbled, and down the line, a few cannons were taken out. Vulpix fell backwards, but swiftly got back up and dusted himself off.

"Sir!" The artillery captain yelled. "Should we fire another volley?"

Vulpix pressed himself up against the walls and looked over to the shallows docks. Through the smoke, he saw the bright flames of the fireship beelining toward the flagship, and he smiled.

"Don't bother," Vulpix said. "Stand back and watch."

As soon as they had all taken a few steps back, the fireship collided with Strike's vessel and the gunpowder in their holds exploded in a massive, fiery cloud. The flagship cracked, almost in two, and began sinking. Vulpix watched with some satisfaction as a swarm of lifeboats fell from the sinking ship.

"Should we target the lifeboats?" the artillery captain asked.

Vulpix pursed his lips as he looked at the lifeboats, but he shook his head. "No," he said. "You're not likely to hit anything. What's the good in sinking a few soaked Church sailors?"

"Then what should we do?" the loader asked. Vulpix stroked his chin and turned to the fort interior. The League men were holding the line well, but no matter how many Church soldiers they slew, more came to take their place, which meant they were keeping reserves outside the walls. They couldn't open the gates because the Church's artillery would gun down any flankers… but they could match their artillery.

"Roll the cannons toward the breach," Vulpix said. "Half down the north wall, half down the south and west. We're going to barrage their camps."

"But what of the ships?" The artillery captain asked. Vulpix looked out at the harbor and shrugged.

"Our navy can handle theirs now," he said. "Start moving! We can still win this day!"

As the artillerymen began dragging their cannons across the walls toward the breach, the captain stayed behind. "What will you do, sir?" he asked.

Vulpix looked over the wall at the sinking ship, watching the lifeboats. "I leave the guns in your hands," he said. "I must attend to… other matters."

"As you wish," the captain said, but Vulpix was already off, down to the cave docks, to get a closer look.

Gwydion whirled and spun, striking at Austin at every angle imaginable, but Austin kept each hit away. Gwydion was becoming angry, she noticed; she had taken on a purely reactive strategy, parrying and deflecting, but not striking back. It infuriated him.

Gwydion yelled and swung his sword down diagonally, only for Austin to knock it away. He grit his teeth and lunged at her, but he was again knocked aside. His defenses were open, just for a moment, but Austin did not seize the opportunity.

"Stop toying with me!" Gwydion shouted. He rained down a barrage of blows, but Austin silently blocked them all. Austin finally responded with a kick to the abdomen, but this did not deter Gwydion.

"Have you nothing to say?" Gwydion asked. Austin shook her head.

"I don't want to kill you, Gwydion," she said. He merely grit his teeth and shifted into a reactive stance.

"I don't care what you want," he said, and for a moment, his expression softened. "You betrayed us. Why? We trusted you, made you one of us, and you turned your back on the entire country!"

"You'll understand soon enough," Austin said. Gwydion's anger returned, and he charged her.

"Enough games!" he shouted. He kicked Austin in the kneecap and sent her tumbling, but she rolled out of the way of his downward thrust. As she stood, she swung her sword upward and cut Gwydion across the forehead.

"I'm not playing games," Austin said. "Stand down. You will be treated fairly as my prisoner."

Gwydion looked at her as if she had just said something completely stupid. "I didn't come all this way just to rot in prison!" he exclaimed, and he lunged again. Austin, in response, drew the hand cannon from her coat and aimed it at him, causing him to flinch and halt his attack.

"Where did you get—" Gwydion began, but Austin bludgeoned him with the hand cannon before he could finish. While he was stunned, she kicked him into a table, and knocked him out cold.

Austin sheathed her sword and took a deep breath, unsure of what to do next. Out the left door of the room, she could hear faint sounds of swords clanging, which told her Nitesco was still alive. Out the right door, she heard shouting and cannon fire.

Cannon fire?

Austin rushed out the right door and saw that the cannons had been moved onto the fort walls facing out, towards their camps. Faker had not bothered to entrench their artillery or their reserves and instead left them out in the open. If they weren't totally destroyed, then their backup was at least severely vulnerable. The melee at the base of the wall was also thinning, as fewer and fewer Church soldiers were coming to join the fray. Their backup was depleted, and if the artillery had been moved from the seas, that meant that their navy was likely decimated as well. The battle was lost.

Gwydion groaned and began shuffling to his feet, but Austin ignored him. She raced out the opposite door, where Faker was locked in combat with Nitesco.

"Faker!" She shouted, and Faker was distracted just long enough to whiff his parry. Nitesco moved to stab him, but Faker kicked him back and turned to Austin.

"I'm in the middle of something!" he shouted.

"We've been routed!" she yelled, and suddenly she had his attention. She sprinted past him, grabbing his arm and yanking him along. Faker matched her pace, ignoring Nitesco's jeers but casting a backwards glance at him.

"I almost had him that time," he said. He wiped the blood from his face.

"Yeah," Austin said, "but they'll have both of us if we don't get out of here now."

"Touche," Faker said. "How did they get our reserves?"

"They moved their wall guns to bombard them," Austin explained. "We left them unentrenched. I can only assume our navy is shot as well."

"Then how will we make our escape?" Faker asked. Austin shook her head. They can come to the edge of the wall, overlooking the sea. On the path behind them was Nitesco and Gwydion. On the path to their left was a swarm of artillerymen. To their right, though, was a small tower, in which Austin saw a small spiral staircase.

"That way!" she shouted, pointing at the tower. "I know the Arkosians like their secret escape routes. That right there's probably one of them!"

Faker cast a glance behind them, and he saw that Nitesco and Gwydion were now giving chase. With the commanders behind them and several men in earshot, Austin knew he couldn't afford a fight.

"Fine," he said. "Let's go."

The pair ducked into the tower, rapidly descending the staircase, feeling the cold dampness grow the farther down they went. Austin hoped there was nobody down there.

They arrived in a small grotto, a cave well out of the way of the main shores, filled with small docks and schooners. There was nobody, save for one man in a crimson uniform, trying to see out the cave and through the fog.

"General Zealander," Faker sneered. Vulpix turned around and drew his saber.

"Lord Faker," he said, and his eyes narrowed on Austin. "And you brought her with you. Tell me, Austin, has the Church treated you well?"

"I wish we could discuss that," Austin said, "but we really must be going. Stand down, and we will let you live."

"Stand down, huh?" Vulpix said. He moved into a combat stance. "Not while I still breathe."

"That can be taken care of," Faker growled. He drew his sword and pointed it at Vulpix. Austin reluctantly did the same.

"You should be the ones to stand down." Austin heard a voice behind her, and she knew instinctively it was Nitesco. She cast a backwards glance and saw he and Gwydion had arrived, but only the two of them. Faker turned to face the pair.

"No way," Faker said. "We've put too much into this to give up now."

"And if you stay on your course, you'll just lose more," Vulpix said. Austin stopped him from moving by pulling the hand cannon on him. He flinched.

"You going to kill him with my own weapon?" Gwydion asked. "How ironic, at least for me."

"Stand down, you two," Nitesco demanded. His voice was deep and strong, but it quivered with unease. "I won't ask again."

"Nor will I," Faker said. "Shoot him, Austin. Shoot Zealander, and we can take Nitesco and Gwydion. We might've lost our forces, but if we kill these three upstarts, then it won't be for nothing!"

The five shifted awkwardly, sizing up their opponents, preparing their moves. Austin swallowed.

"Don't do this, Austin," Vulpix said. His face had softened, but he stood firm. "I know what it's like. I know you know this isn't right. Don't ignore that feeling! Don't try to justify it! Come back to us," he pleaded. "Don't die a traitor."

"Ignore his prattling," Faker said. Austin could tell he was eager for blood. "Don't let the fool pull his pathos on you. He's bluffing. Kill him and we can take the other two."

Austin cast a backwards glance at Nitesco and Gwydion, measuring their reluctant expressions, and looked to Faker. "Even so," she said, "it'll be a tough fight." She pointed her sword at Gwydion and turned to keep an eye on Vulpix. "Just in case, you got any last words?"

Faker scoffed and prepared to fight. "Please. I won't need them."

Austin sighed. "Well," she said, "you can't say I didn't offer." She pressed the hand cannon against his back and pulled the trigger.

The sound filled the cave, echoing off the walls and nearly deafening Austin. Faker's chest exploded in an eruption of blood and bone, splattering Nitesco with viscera and causing Faker to scream in shock and pain. He instantly dropped his sword and staggered forward, cupping the river of blood streaming from his chest as he fumbled at Nitesco. Nitesco, horrified, stood frozen in shock as Faker grabbed him by the collar and sank to his knees.

"You have killed me," Faker wheezed, the blood in his lungs making a sickening gurgle as it spilled onto Nitesco's coat.

"No," Austin said, and Faker turned from Nitesco to look at her. "I killed you."

Faker said nothing. His expression changed from anger, to bewilderment, and then back to anger. Finally, his face went slack with defeat, and his hands fell away from Nitesco's collar. "Damn," he said at last, and he fell backwards into the water.

Nitesco, Gwydion, and Vulpix stood frozen, unsure of how to react. "Good god," Gwydion said at last. "Why?"

"You've asked that question a lot today. I believe this is yours," Austin remarked, and she held out the hand cannon to him. Gwydion eyed her, leery, but plucked it from her hand before retreating.

"You killed him," Nitesco said. He was still dripping with Faker's blood, still watching as the man's body slowly sank in the cave waters. "I mean— oh, dear me, that was bloody. Oh, god." He sheathed his sword and steadied himself. "Why?"

"Didn't I tell you to trust me?" Austin asked. Her eyes were hot and heavy with tears, but she managed a dry chuckle anyway. "I'm sorry. I didn't have a chance to explain. But know that I never betrayed you, not for a second. I would never."

"You killed McDouggal," Gwydion said, still untrusting. Austin nodded.

"Yeah," she said. "I did. I regret it, and I hate myself for it, but it bought me time. I waited for the chance to strike, to pull the rug out from under them. Finally, I have," she said, looking at Faker's body. "And now I have knowledge. I have plans."

"If what you say is true," Vulpix said, creeping up beside her, "then you have done well. But you must understand our caution. And you must understand that this won't settle immediately."

"I know," Austin said, barely above a whisper. Gwydion nodded along and cast another glance at Faker's body.

"Come on," Vulpix said. "We've got a battle to win." He and Gwydion went up the stairs, returning to the fort, but Nitesco stayed behind.

Nitesco said, "You remind me so much of him, you know?"

"Of who?" Austin said. "My—"

Nitesco pulled her into a hug, and for a moment, Austin didn't know what to do. Finally, she hugged him back, grasping him tight and trying not to cry. After standing, silent, for some time, Nitesco pulled away and smiled.

"It's good to have you back," he said. He went up the stairs and back to the battle, leaving Austin alone with her thoughts.