Sometime ter, at the top of the cliff, Dorian looked up from his work to see a woman approach from the path to the cove, her oversized, faded tunic fpping in the wind.

  "I didn't expect you from that direction," he said, gesturing at the relit Stoneshell fire. "Or... clothed."

  "Long story," Emily puffed, slightly out of breath. "There was a boat, a whirlpool, a girl named Octavia... she gave me these." She smoothed down the rough brown skirt self-consciously. It felt strange to be covered again in his presence after the prolonged exposure.

  Dorian raised an eyebrow. "A whirlpool? Must be a consequence of the disruption."

  "Yes, that's why it's so important we get the Essence back from Richard," Emily said. "It's not just about Aria and the other statues, or the monks and their abbey. The Azure Sphere keeps this whole coast stable."

  "Maybe the monks will be a bit nicer to us if we show up with the Essence in tow," he mused. "You were gone a while. I lit the fire hours ago." There was a hint of reproach in his tone, quickly masked. "The sun's getting low. Are you ready?"

  "Yes," Emily said, gncing at the sun. The path up from the cove had been surprisingly slow, difficult going on her own. She half-regretted not teleporting but decided it had been worth it to keep her clothes, at least for the moment.

  Dorian returned to his preparations, which seemed to involve pcing three stones in a very precise configuration, staring at them for a while, and then changing the configuration entirely. Dorian muttered something about bancing potency and a naturalistic appearance before rearranging the stones a third time.

  "I thought about it," Emily said after a while. "About the trade."

  Dorian paused but didn't look up from his stone arrangement.

  "We can't just give him the Bronzeband," she stated firmly. "Not unless... not unless there's absolutely no other choice. The risk of what he'd do with it is too great. Not just to us." She gestured back towards the vilge. "He's proven his willingness to destroy anything to get what he wants, along with his ability. The way they talk about the Azure Essence... it is as if Richard had stolen the sun out of the sky." Emily's expression hardened with resolve. "I empowered him once. I won't do it again."

  A flicker of relief crossed Dorian's face, quickly followed by grim determination. "Good. That was my hope." He nodded towards the cliff. "My preparations are set. Subtle disruptions to the ley lines, dampening harmonic resonance. It won't stop him entirely, but it should weaken him."

  "What's our pn, then?" Emily asked, her stomach tightening with anticipatory tension.

  "You should stand over here," Dorian said, leading Emily to a nondescript spot a few yards from the Stoneshell fire, then nudging her into a final, very precise position according to a calculus that remained opaque to her. "Start out diplomatic, asking about the trade. Feel him out. See if he's willing to actually hand over the Essence first—unlikely, but worth ascertaining. But be on your guard. I'll hide behind that bush over there, so he thinks you're alone." Dorian pointed at a particurly overgrown bush a few paces away. "If he attacks, I'll trigger the main disruption." He produced a small Y-shaped stick with a thin blue thread tightly coiled around the top and mimed the motion of strumming it. "It should be enough to unbance him. But the rest is up to you."

  It wasn't much of a pn, relying heavily on improvisation. She looked down at the Bronzeband on her ankle, then touched the Stoneshell resting beneath the borrowed tunic. Fire and stone. And Dorian's ley line disruptions magic. That would have to be enough. She'd beaten Richard before, and with less. But he was overconfident then—he'd underestimated her. He wouldn't make that mistake again.

  The sun was setting, painting the sky in strokes of fiery orange, deep violet, and molten gold. The wind picked up suddenly, whipping Emily's hair around her face, but then died just as suddenly, right as Dorian kicked a rock one inch to the left. "Last minute adjustment," he muttered, before retreating behind the bush.

  Emily watched the sun dip beneath the cliff, shielding her eyes from its brilliance. She was far too nervous to appreciate the majesty of nature at that moment, and could only wait, hardly daring to breathe.

  Then came a note. Faint, carried on the wind—a single, pure note from a violin. It was followed by a second note, and then a third, and then a fourth. The notes came closer in time until the air was filled with a melody, growing steadily louder. A searching, almost mournful dirge.

  The music stopped. Richard, former captain of the Sea Serpent, stood before her, violin under his chin, its bow csped in an unnaturally smooth and very pink hand. His teleportation spell was far more understated than hers, allowing him to fade into pce so naturally that it was difficult to realize he'd teleported at all. It also appeared to have no adverse effect on clothing—Richard wore a robe of brilliant azure in the same cut as Brother Kastor's.

  "Emily, my dear," Richard called out, his voice smooth and confident. "Right on time. And dressed for the occasion!" His eyes flicked over her form in a way that made her want to cover up, though she was fully clothed. "Are you ready to make a trade?"

  Emily took a deep breath, the salty air suddenly thin in her lungs. "Maybe," she said, rolling the ankle that wore the Bronzeband. "But how do I know you won't just vanish once you have what you want? You're not exactly trustworthy, Richard."

  Richard chuckled, a sinister noise that unnerved Emily. "Oh Emily, you wound me. We both have something the other wants, shouldn't that be enough?" He took a dramatic step forward.

  "Stay where you are," Emily said. "Let's see the vial clearly first."

  Still bancing the violin against his chin, Richard reached a hand into the folds of his deep azure robe and produced a small gss vial—the same one he'd taunted her with on the cliffside.

  The liquid inside it was colored an even more striking blue than Richard's cloak, and appeared to be moving. Emily couldn't take her eyes off it—even from a distance, she could feel its thrum of quiet power. It had a calming, stabilizing effect on her, and seemed to quiet both the wind and the waves.

  "Beautiful, isn't it? A pity it doesn't do much."

  "And you'll just hand it over?" Emily asked, taking a step in his direction.

  Richard smiled, a thin, sharp curve of his lips that held no warmth. "I'll do more than that." He stepped dramatically to one side, revealing a squat wooden barrel positioned behind him, previously hidden by his bulk and the dimming light. "Come a little closer," he invited, lifting the barrel's lid with a flourish.

  Hesitantly, in a guarded posture, Emily took a few steps closer to Richard, until she could peer into the barrel. It was filled with the same viscous, luminous blue liquid, swirling slowly under its own power. The concentrated Essence glowed intensely, casting Richard's face in eerie, shifting blue highlights,

  As she watched, Richard uncorked the vial and poured its contents into the barrel. The surface bubbled and hissed as it came together. "I told you I'd give you enough for a bath, didn't I?" Richard crowed, lowering his voice to a harsh whisper. "This is all of it, the entire Azure Sphere, compressed. A font of cosmic power, so they say, but damned if I know how to use it." He dipped two fingers in the barrel and pulled them out again, the glowing liquid sticking to his skin. He tried to wipe it on the sleeve of his robe, but it clung to his fingers until he returned them to the barrel.

  "You'd think"—his voice grew tight with frustration—"that a master of both inert stone and immaterial resonance would be able to channel liquid magic! It should be child's py! But no!" He smmed the lid back onto the barrel with unnecessary force. "Nothing worked. Not resonance, not focus, not the incantations from their library. Utterly useless. And terribly inconvenient, lugging this barrel around."

  His casual dismissal, whining about inconvenience after the chaos he'd unleashed, ignited a fresh wave of nausea and fury in Emily. Octavia's terrified, drowning face fshed in her mind, interspersed with images of the colpsing dome and the fear in the Elders' eyes.

  "Perhaps the legendary Stoneshell Bearer will have more luck channeling the supposed power of this slop," Richard continued, his voice low and bitter. "You know, it grows when it comes into contact with direct sunlight. Slowly, but you might need a bigger barrel soon. But before we worry about any of that, I'd like my birthright back."

  They stood frozen for a long moment, the setting sun painting the scene in dramatic, dying light. Finally, Emily spoke, her voice low and tight. "Step away from the barrel."

  Richard gnced pointedly at her ankle, where the Bronzeband rested beneath the hem of her borrowed skirt. "I believe I require some assurance first, love. Trust is a give and take, is it not? Remove the Bronzeband. Show good faith." Though his tone was full of bravado, there was a nervous edge in his voice, and he kept breaking eye contact and gncing over Emily's shoulder.

  This was the moment. Emily pushed aside the final doubts in her mind and made her decision. Slowly, deliberately, she knelt down, her hand moving towards her ankle. As her fingers closed around its cool metallic surface, she saw Richard take a small step back from the barrel, his gaze fixed hungrily on the band.

  "That's it, slowly, take it—Waah!" Richard yelped, his triumphant expression twisting into shocked agony as a thick column of jagged sandstone erupted violently from the ground directly beneath his right foot. It smmed upwards with brutal force, sending him crashing heavily onto his back amidst a cloud of dust and dislodged pebbles.

  As Richard hit the ground, Dorian burst from behind the bush, no longer hiding but sprinting towards the barrel, his makeshift spellbreaking instrument–the Y-stick wrapped in blue thread–already vibrating as he furiously strummed it with his thumb. Simultaneously, Emily surged to her feet, abandoning the pretense of removing the Bronzeband. Twin spheres of bzing fire ignited in her palms as she strode toward the fallen Richard.

  Disoriented, winded, Richard still managed to twist, raising his violin and bow. As Emily advanced, fire radiating from her hands, he scraped the bow across the strings, producing three sharp, loud, dissonant notes.

  Nothing happened. The notes hung dead in the air.

  "Haha, it's working! His magic's blocked!" Dorian said, one arm already slung around the barrel of Azure Essence.

  Emily shot a winning smile at Dorian before turning to face Richard, ying before her in the dust. Their pn had gone better than she could ever have expected. It wasn't over yet though. The fire in Emily's hands bzed as she pressed forward.

  But Richard's expression stopped her cold. It was not one of fear, anger, or even pain. A slow, chilling smile spread across his weathered features. And as Emily's fireballs came closer, he ughed. A small, quiet ugh, though full of conviction. "That wasn't the finale," he said, tapping his bow against the wood of his violin. "Merely an overture."

  "Seize them!"

  The roar ripped through the air, not from Richard, but from behind them. It echoed, amplified, seeming to come from everywhere at once. Suddenly, the clifftop wasn't empty. Figures erupted from inside and around the Abbey tower. Monks. Dozens of them, men and women, grim-faced, pouring onto the clifftop, armed with thick quarterstaffs and heavy, weighted nets. They moved with terrifying speed and discipline, fanning out, forming a closing circle. And at their forefront, face thunderous, radiating cold fury, stood Brother Kastor.

  Emily froze. Dorian spun around, still keeping one hand on the barrel.

  Richard winked at Emily. "Don't think I'm not impressed, darling. An ambush! I didn't know you had it in you."

  Emily's mouth hung open in surprise. What was going on?

  "Brother Kastor!" Richard called out. "Thank the Tides you received my signal! The Essence is secured—see, in this barrel! They were about to take it away with them, along with my violin!"

  "What?" Emily gasped, utterly bewildered. "No! He's the thief! He stole the Essence! He wanted to trade—"

  Kastor ignored her completely, his eyes filled with contempt. "Thieves! Liars! Desecrators! Bind them!"

  Monks surged forward. Dorian cried out as an enormous thrown net nded on top of him, its ends weighted down with lead bricks.

  Emily reacted instinctively, spinning to face the closest wave of monks–a mix of men and women, many with their eyes disturbingly covered with strips of pin blue cloth. Blindfolded. She unched both fireballs. They screamed towards the attackers but disintegrated yards away, puffing into harmless smoke as the blindfolded monks gestured in unison, weaving complex counter-spells.

  "Wait! Listen to me!" Emily cried desperately, stomping her foot, using the Bronzeband to send ripples through the ground, making the stone under the monks' feet uneven, trying to slow them down. "Richard stole the Essence! He caused the chaos!"

  "Silence the bsphemer!" Kastor bellowed. He had reached the barrel and was peering inside. "Thank you, Brother Richard," he said, turning briefly to the man who was now slowly getting to his feet. "Your loyalty to the Order is commendable."

  Richard inclined his head, dusting off his azure robe with faux humility. "It was my sacred duty, Brother. To recim the Essence."

  "He's lying!" Dorian snarled from within his net. "He stole the Essence with his music! Didn't you hear it?"

  "The lies of cornered criminals!" Kastor spat. "Strip them of magical artifacts!"

  The monks were almost upon Emily now, having countered or dodged her every attack. Emily's eyes darted around, locking onto the flickering Stoneshell fire still burning nearby. Teleportation would buy her time. Voice trembling with panic, she whispered, "Tiedavon Abbey!"

  Heat fred instantly against her skin. The world started to dissolve in roaring fme, borrowed clothes igniting. But before the teleportation pulled her briefly from existence, she was assaulted by an icy sensation. A wave of freezing, shocking water hit her with stinging force, drenching her from head to foot. The Stoneshell fire sputtered and died, extinguished in a hiss of steam.

  Through blurred, water-stung eyes, Emily saw one of the blindfolded monks lowering an empty pail, his aim unnervingly precise. The sudden, violent abortion of the teleport left her dizzy, disoriented, the world spinning. Before she could recover, four monks– strong women, moving with grim efficiency–seized her.

  Rough hands pinned her arms behind her back. Other hands fumbled urgently at her chest, fingers working at the csp of the Stoneshell neckce. Panic, absolute and primal, seized Emily as the familiar weight lifted away. A coldness, deeper than the drenching water, deeper than the night air on her bare skin, pierced through her.

  Simultaneously, another monk knelt, expertly working the Bronzeband off her ankle. It slid free just as rough hands forced her down, down onto her knees on the cold ground. The tattered remnants of her scorched tunic hung uselessly from her shoulders, offering no protection against the wind that whipped around her, or the eyes of onlookers. She was stripped bare, both physically and magically.

  Two monks presented the recovered artifacts to Kastor. He examined the Stoneshell with cold recognition, then picked up the Bronzeband. "The Stoneshell we know of, but this band... it hums with earth magic. No doubt it was used to shatter the dome's foundations." He handed the Stoneshell to another monk, who concealed it in the folds of her robe before swiftly departing. Clearly, the monks knew of bearer's ability to summon the Stoneshell, so long as she could see it.

  Richard stepped forward, brushing a few st specks of dust from his robe. His expression was carefully neutral, though Emily detected a glint of triumph in his eyes. "Brother Kastor," he said smoothly, gesturing towards the Bronzeband. "That artifact... it is indeed attuned to stone, to the earth itself. Terribly dangerous in the wrong... hands." He gnced briefly, significantly, at Emily. "Perhaps, given my experience with such things, I might be best suited to safeguard it? To study it, understand how they used it against us?"

  Kastor hesitated for only a moment before agreeing. "A wise suggestion, Brother Richard. Your insight could prove valuable." He handed the Bronzeband over.

  Richard accepted it with a look of solemn responsibility. He rolled up one sleeve and slid the band onto his wrist, then pushed it up past his elbow, to its old position around his bicep. The metal expanded as he moved it up, its seashell pattern changing to a series of geometric triangles.

  Richard flexed his arm, feeling the familiar weight. He met Emily's horrified, helpless gaze across the small distance separating them and offered her a tiny, utterly infuriating wink.

  "Take them to the lower cells!" Kastor commanded. "They will await the Council's judgment."

  Rough hands hauled Emily to her feet, keeping her arms pinned behind her back. The monk behind her gave her a shove, and she staggered forward, the ground she'd made uneven digging into her bare soles. A few feet away, she could see a group of monks pull Dorian from under the net, handling him in a simir fashion. His spellbreaking stick y in three pieces, stomped on by monk boots.

  Securely held and stripped of all magic, Emily and Dorian were marched from the clifftop, away from the st embers of the setting sun. Emily gnced back long enough to see Richard standing tall against the twilight sky, slowly levitating a pebble in front of his face. He had pyed them all and won.