In the end, we didn't head back home right away. Perhaps it was becoming a habit for us to walk the city together whenever we got the chance. Habit or not, I wasn't complaining about it, of course I wasn't - why would I? 

On this evening in particular, we walked through the city on foot, but not to the cave to see the sky, nor even to the pub we frequented with Farlan for a warm meal and drinks and the occasional game of cards.

Actually, we walked the city together in winding paths through neighborhoods and around blocks in a pattern that surely didn't make sense and certainly wasn't an efficient way to get anywhere. All of this to say, we wandered. We wandered until he seemed to get an idea for an actual destination, and so he took my hand and started leading me on with purpose now, and not with the nonchalance and ease that came with just wandering.

"Levi," I said with a laugh after he took my hand, calling his attention to me right away, "your hands are always cold!"

"The hell am I supposed to do about that?"

It was clear that he was embarrassed, but I was less concerned about that and more excited by the fact that I could elicit such an emotion from him and that I was lucky enough to see his flustered expression. 

"I don't know," I said teasingly, hoping to keep that pretty little blush on his face. "Maybe let me hold them more?"

"Don't say embarrassing shit," Levi muttered.

"But it's so fun," I said, my voice nearly a whine. "How am I supposed to have fun, if I don't embarrass you like this?"

Levi did not answer, not for a while, and we walked in companionable, comfortable silence. It was certainly strange how comfortable I was holding his hand now. No longer was I nervous, and no longer was it awkward; it just felt natural, almost like breathing. It was easy and it was comfortable, and well, it kept him close to my side so I didn't mind it. Not at all.

"Oh," I said when at last I recognized the street we were walking on. It was one I used to traverse often, very often, but not anymore. No, it had admittedly been a long while since I had been anywhere near here. And yet it was a familiar sight to see a familiar figure sitting against a familiar building playing a familiar tune.

"Feel like singing tonight, do you?"

"No," Levi said with an accompanying click of his tongue. "No, this is for you, brat."

I nudged him lightly with my shoulder. "Despite calling me a brat all the time, you're sweet."

"Please," he mumbled, clearly not convinced. "Spare me."

"As much as I'd love to catch up with Mason, if you wanted to hear me sing you could have just asked."

"Shut up."

I decided, for now at least, to stop teasing him. I let go of his hand to cross the final new paces between us and Mason. He was sitting with his shoulders slumped, his head down, and his hat on the ground before him - empty. I reached into my back pocket, slipping from it a few loose coins. When I was standing only precious feet before him, I stopped, hesitating to toss the coins into his hat.

Admittedly, it'd been a long time since I had even visited him, if not to sing, then at least to chat. We had become good friends in our time performing together. It was just... hard to find the time now, I suppose.

It was shitty of me, wasn't it? I always assured him that I would come back and sing but since working with Levi and Farlan, it was busy, it was hectic, and I was left always exhausted by the end of the day.

What kind of friend was I?

Mason's eyes remained downcast, his shaggy hair shaggier than it was when I had last seen him. He was strumming the chords of a tune I knew well, but it sounded strange without his melodic voice accompanying it. 

It wasn't So Ist es Immer, no; it was actually a song he had written and had taught me a few weeks after we met. He'd come up with something and so when we met at the usual time at the usual place - meaning here - he had taught it to me. We hadn't made that much money that night comparatively, because we only started playing a while after we normally would.

But his enthusiasm for music, his love for performing, the joy he felt in just sharing a new song with someone at all, and then whoever came to listen... it was admittedly contagious. This whole city could use a little joy. None more so than him, who granted them so much, even if just in passing.

I tossed the coins into Mason's hat. I could see the slight movement of his head as he noticed the movement, and I could hear it when he sighed. "If you're here to rob me," he said dejectedly, as though this had happened before, "just get it over with."

"Mason Reynan," I said with a melancholic smile. "I know it's been a while since we spoke, but you don't really think I would rob you, would you?"

He stopped playing and his eyes widened with a start. It was clear that he knew my voice with the recognition that flashed across his features, but conversely, it was clear that he couldn't quite believe his ears... or maybe he didn't want to. There was no way to tell.

He chanced a glance upwards, and when his eyes met my own, I smiled. His surprised, disbelieving look shifted into one of elation and he sprang up, his guitar set off to his side as he threw his arms around my shoulders. I laughed a little as I set my arms around him to return the favor.

"Hey, Mason," I said in greeting, finally. He hugged me a little tighter, as though doing so would confirm that I was here and that I was real.

"Amaya," he said happily. "You're back!"

"I am," I responded softly as his hug eased up a little. "I'm sorry it's been so long. I just haven't been able to find the time to come visit and I'm so sorry."

"Don't apologize," Mason said kindly, letting go of me and taking a step back. "Your new partners keep you busy, right? That guy that led you away that day, you're working with him now, aren't you?"

"That's right," I answered. "Farlan invited me to join their little crew."

"I've seen you three fly around," Mason said with a warm smile, pure and genuine and something I had missed. "It looks so fun. And you three... you do good work. I've heard about the things you've done, who you've helped."

"The soldiers won't help us," I said in explanation. "So we step in."

"Incredible," he said reverently. "If I had better legs, maybe I could fly too."

A worried pinch found my brow and I looked at him carefully. "You're unwell."

It was a statement, but had all the inclination of a question, and so he nodded in response. "That's right. They've always been bad but they've gotten worse."

"Mason," I started to say, only for him to cut me off.

"It's ok," he said, and his tone alone was nearly enough to make me believe it. Nearly. No one could miss the sadness hidden deep in his eyes - or maybe only I could see it, for how well I knew him? Regardless, he continued: "Because I don't need legs to play guitar!"

"Right," I said, "but you need legs to walk, to run. Mason, we've got medicine, we can-"

"Stop," he said gently. "I didn't say it to earn your pity or waste good medicine on something that doesn't hurt anymore. Just tell me that you remember our songs and you've got some time to kill. That's all I want."

"I do," I said, giving in after a quiet moment of contemplation. If this was what he wanted for now, I was perfectly fine obliging. "For both questions, I mean."

"Great," he said. "I'm really just happy that you're here. That's what matters right now. So..." He sat carefully, leaning once more against the building behind him. He pulled his guitar back into his lap, dusting the dirt off from it before settling it in his arms and preparing to play. He strummed a simple chord with his fingers, and I smiled at the pretty little sound. "Are you going to sit, or what?"

I did. I sat down next to him and cleared my throat. "You should know it's been a while since I last sang."

"And you should know," he echoed, "that I don't care. Even on your worst days, your voice was always pretty."

"Hush," I said. "Flattery didn't work before, and it still won't."

"Oh," Mason said suddenly, almost conspiratorially. "Certainly not with him here."

"Him? Ah, you mean Levi," I said, gesturing for him to come over with one hand. "He and Farlan are my partners now."

Levi came to a stop at my side, definitely not in preparation to sing but at least to join us and not stand awkwardly before us all alone. Mason seemed to blanch when Levi leaned against the wall, still standing and looking at us each in turn. I didn't blame him for that sort of reaction; he was intimidating, to be sure, if you didn't know him.

As Levi settled himself to lean comfortably against the wall, still standing on one side of me, Mason on my other side started to strum the familiar opening lines to So Ist es Immer.

"Wasting no time, are you?"

"Why would I? It isn't everyday that the Amaya sings with me."

"Fair point," I said. "And I'm-"

"If you're going to apologize, don't waste your time," Mason said with a smile. "There was nothing for you to be forgiven for."

I sighed, shaking my head indulgently. He was more stubborn than I was, wasn't he? Still, I took a deep breath in and prepared to sing. It was, perhaps, more nerve-wracking than it was the first time, for this wasn't a stranger, this was my dear friend Mason, and Levi was no stranger, either. No, I knew both these men and they knew me.

And one of them I...

Well, I could think about that later.

The nerves faded away all at once, and without warning, but soon I found myself smiling, swaying slightly to the music, and allowing my eyes to close as I got lost in the fun of it. Because really, it didn't matter how good or bad I was. Singing with people you were comfortable with... it was just fun.

There was no judgment here, not even from Levi who was watching me closely. With my eyes closed, my other senses were heightened, especially the one that could tell that the weight of his focus had settled atop me.

In a small break in the song as Mason began to show off his skill and provide a chance for me to catch my breath, I opened my eyes and looked up at Levi. He didn't seem to enjoy being caught staring because he glanced away. But I leaned forward, dropping my gaze from him as I hastily undid my cloak and took it off. I folded it, then motioned for him to move away which he did, in a begrudging, unwilling, and absolutely confused manner.

He caught on to what I was doing as I was doing it, and so when I set the cloak on the ground next to me and smoothed it out, he crouched down and lowered himself to sit on it. It was wordless, but he didn't need to speak because what he wanted to say was written in his eyes.

"I don't mind you sitting on the cloak," I said quietly, keeping in mind that we had already gotten a small crowd to listen. There were people standing a few meters away, others leaning out their windows, some leaning against the buildings across the street. "It's better than having you stand, isn't it?"

"If people expect me to sing or some shit because I'm sitting here, I'm blaming you and taking your cut of the money."

I smiled. "It all goes to the same fund anyway, doesn't it? It shouldn't matter whether I put it in or you do."

"You..." He trailed off with an irritated click of his tongue. "Shut up."

My smile grew, for that meant I was correct. Very correct.

The tune came back in preparation for the words, and I started to sing once more. Through song after song we went, with hardly a break between, for Mason seemed incredibly intent on getting through each song he taught me as quickly as possible... as though to make sure I still knew them, I suppose. Regardless, I sang without incident and got back into the swing of it.

After a few more songs, the crowd got a bit more sizable and I chanced a glance between verses of mine - in which Mason picked it up - at Levi, only to see that he was... peaceful. He looked calm. His eyes weren't closed, but they were glazed over as though unfocused, and perhaps they were.

And once more, so as not to interrupt, I spoke quietly to him. "Levi," I said, "are you comfortable?"

His eyes lost that unfocused shine and he blinked before looking over at me. He nodded in answer, and I looked away. Looking at him too much would probably distract me, but no more so than... He reached out and took my hand.

Huh. Guess I found something more distracting.

Far more distracting.

When his fingers were twined between mine, I looked over at him once more. With one of my eyebrows quirked up, I hoped he picked up on the silent question in my eyes. He didn't answer it, but instead challenged it with one of his own: Is this ok?

I curled my fingers around his, holding his hand securely as my only answer. I was struck all at once by how snugly my hand fit in his and how my hands, always so warm, were cooled by his own. I could hardly understand how something so calloused could be so soft, how something so strong could hold something so carefully.

As the song approached my part to start once more, I turned forward and didn't mention it when I saw him duck his head down, perhaps embarrassed and perhaps to hide the smirk on his lips. I started to sing again, and only when the final tunes of our final song faded into the empty air around us did a change come.

People came forward, dropping change into the hat and it gradually got more and more full, and the occasional person would leave a compliment and so Mason and I would smile and thank them. It was at that point that Levi kept his gaze averted, though still scanning the crowd, searching for trouble more than likely.

When the crowd started to thin and disperse, I looked at Mason. "It's more tiring than I remember," I said with a laugh. "Maybe I'm losing my touch."

"That just means you have to do it more," Mason said almost in a sheepish manner.

"I'll try," I assured him. "I've missed this. I nearly forgot how fun this was."

"I've missed performing with you," Mason said. "I know you're busy, but if you ever have a free evening, you know where to find me."

"Of course," I replied. "Maybe I'll bring Farlan along with me next time."

"Can he carry a tune?"

"He might," I said, smirking now. "No way to find out until he tries, right? And besides, what is it that you told me? It doesn't matter how we sound, so long as the meaning is there?"

"I might've said something like that," Mason said with a laugh. "So, here's your share."

Only... when he lifted my "share" towards me, it was the entire hat.

"Mason..."

"Take it," he said earnestly. "You've earned it."

"Absolutely not," I protested. "I refuse."

"Let it be an incentive for you to come back," Mason tried.

"No," I said firmly. "I promise I'll come back."

"Not good enough," Mason said, shaking his head. "Those are only words. And besides, you can't promise something like that. So, keep the money."

"Mason, come on."

"Amaya, it's yours."

"But you were the one-"

"Playing? Sure. But I'm not the one they came to see."

"You know that's not true."

"In my time doing this alone," he said calmly, "I've never made as much as I do when you're here. It's not me, I assure you."

"But it's so much," I argued. "How will you..."

"Get by? The same way I always do, Amaya. Don't worry about me. Just don't let this be the last time we sing together."

"I won't," I said surely, as surely as I could for this sort of thing. I let him pour the contents of the hat into my coin purse, and when it was empty, he flipped it then set it atop his head. With a cordial nod of his head, he smiled and stood on wobbly legs. "Do you need help getting home?"

"I don't live far," he said confidently, as if forgetting I knew where he lived - and it was a far cry from here. "I can walk that far."

"Thank you," I said, knowing that continuing to butt heads with such a stubborn man would get me nowhere. "And not just for letting me keep all the money."

"No, thank you," he said earnestly. "Have a good night, you two."

"You too," I responded. And we watched him walk off, guitar in hand and looking more balanced than he probably felt. "I had no idea," I said to Levi when Mason was out of view. I turned my head to look at him.

"He let you take all the money," Levi said. "I'm sure there's enough in there to pay for some medicine."

I smiled, knowing it was Levi's way of saying that he could have some: painkillers, most likely, considering it's what we had and would likely be the most help. What was wrong with his legs went beyond gauze and bandages. He would need professional help but if we could help him how we could now, then we would. Levi would. It surprised me to find out, but I was grateful for it.

Levi let go of my hand to stand, then crouched down and picked my cloak up. He fanned it out to get rid of any dirt or dust clinging to it, then reached a hand towards me. I hadn't been expecting it, but I smiled and took his hand to let him help me up.

"Thank you," I said warmly, but then my face took on a teasing sort of smirk. "What next? Will you help me with my cloak?"

No, actually. All my words got me was the cloak promptly tossed at my face, making me sputter. I could hear his low chuckle and I tore it away from my face, my look of faux-anger dissipating slightly at the sight of his smirk. I tossed the cloak around my shoulders, tying it hastily as he started to run. "Hey, wait!"

He did no such thing. All he did was - while running - fix the gear boxes from their loose, relaxed position which we had done to them while we were sitting to sit upright as they usually did, and leap into the air. I followed suit, my fingers fumbling a bit but eventually finding purchase and connecting everything securely.

With a laugh, I took to the air.

The heavy mood from earlier, weighing down on me as all the grief of losing my father felt as fresh as the day I had lost him, was gone. I forgot everything that plagued me and worried my heart as I chased Levi through the muggy air of the underground city.

—

Weeks Later:

The building we now found ourselves in did not seem at all like the center of operations for one of the worst crime groups the city had to offer, but if our intel was correct - which it usually was - then it was. But it was so quiet.

It was unnerving. That was for damn sure.

We'd received word through Lenny of a recent rise in reported threats to the Military Police centered towards children. There weren't many kids in the city that weren't tossed to the orphanages where they were often overworked and underfed, like everyone else here - many were orphaned, yes, and had to live on their own, but sadly that meant that not many reached adolescence, much less adulthood. 

No, they were subject to all the same horrors that we were - but the difference was that they were children.

They hadn't asked to be born here. They weren't criminals, and it was through no fault of their own that they were poor. But more often than not, their parents could not take care of them, especially if their mothers were the ladies of the night, of which there were many.

It was actually rarer for the children to be kept with their families. And kids were never adopted here, either... though I suppose I was an exception, and Caden too. If a kid was lucky enough to escape or grow old enough to be released, they would be on their own which brought its own troubles. 

As such, when we took this job, due to the nature of it, I found that I had only been able to think of Caden and so I was very eager to get started on it right away.

That led us to where we were now, which was investigating their supposed hub of activity. But as far as I could tell, it was just a house. It was old and decrepit, that much was normal, but what wasn't normal was how quiet it was. It was dark and damp and dirty and unlived in. Sure, it was inconspicuous, but that's what made us all the more suspicious of it.

We'd only just arrived and I was completely on my guard, ready to get to the bottom of what was happening here. Because if they were targeting kids, that was deplorable enough to warrant us taking them down completely. If the Military Police wouldn't, then someone should. And if that had to be us, it was all the better, because I wanted to look into the eyes of someone who was monstrous enough to kill a child. A child.

The bottom floor seemed clear, but I had a bad feeling about the second floor. Call it a gut feeling, call it my intuition, it didn't matter. Something was calling me upstairs and so after telling Levi and Farlan that it was my destination, I started for it.

The stairs were wooden and terribly rickety as I ascended and I did what I could to be as quiet as possible. I reached the landing on near-silent feet, finding myself in the dark. Strange. If not downstairs, and not here... then where? Perhaps they caught wind that we were coming, or that someone was onto them, so they left? But no... There had to be something here. There had to be. I could feel it.

That had to be it. I just hadn't found it yet.

Downstairs, I heard Levi ask: "This is the address we were given, is it not?"

"It is," Farlan told him. "I'm sure of it. Amaya," he then called, "be careful up there."

"Stop being so loud," Levi hissed. I wanted to reply, but Levi was right. We had to be quiet. What if they were still here? Or if they weren't, we didn't want to call attention to ourselves by being loud.

"It wasn't an MP who was given the address," Farlan explained, quieter now, and I idled by the landing to listen in. "It was another one of Lenny's contacts, one who was able to trace them all back here."

"It could be a red herring," Levi said. "Just be careful."

"Got it."

I moved away from the landing, walking further down the hallway and towards the nearest door. There were three here, and nothing more. The first room was empty. Dust covered the floor and boarded windows and cobwebs were gathered in the corners. It was disgusting, but empty.

To the next room I went.

"If it's this quiet, it's either a trap or meant to mislead the MP's," I could hear Levi tell Farlan.

"They may have a lookout here," Farlan mused. "But it's so quiet. And it doesn't look like anyone's been here in years."

It was a good point. If there was a lot of activity here daily, the dust wouldn't be quite so thick, and it would resettle each time someone so much as opened the door. But everything here was so still.

But still, we continued to search. I could hear them rummaging around downstairs and I opened the door to the second room. It was a bathroom, and it was completely empty, and just as sickeningly still as the rest of the house. I closed the door.

To the third room I went. It was hard to breathe in this house. Air unventilated, still, weighed down by dust and grime. Shallow breaths seemed to be all I could muster as I made to open the door. But it was locked. As always, I kept a pin in my hair, not to keep my hair in place but in case of situations like this, so it wasn't a problem.

The latch unlocked with a light click, and the door swung open with a low creak. I went to stick the pin back in my hair, but it fell just as my eyes caught sight of what was in the center of the room on the floor. My breath caught in my throat and my hands went clammy. My heart seemed to stop.

Lying on the floor was a dead child.

There was a candle, its lit flame disturbed only by the opening of the door. Its wax pooled on the floor, mingling with the blood still trickling from a wound in the child's stomach. This room was - in stunning contrast to the rest of the house - not dusty. It was well-lived, compared to the rest of the house. There was blood not only on the floor, coming from the child's wound, but also splattered on the walls and even the windows, dried and awful and goddesses, the smell in here...

It was clear that the group we were dealing with had little regard for human life. But around here... what was new?

But this was a new kind of deplorable, disgusting behavior.

I lowered myself into a crouch, my fingers searching blindly for the pin. When they found it, I swiped it clean against my clothes then walked into the room while sticking it back in my hair. I stepped over the candle and crouched down, setting one knee to the floor to brace myself near the boy's head. I reached out to hold the back of my hand near his nose and mouth, staying still and hoping for any sign of a breath as my other hand found his neck to search for a pulse.

Neither showed a single sign of life.

With a sigh, I let go of the boy. "I'm so sorry," I said to the child, knowing the words were falling on deaf ears. Goodness... he looked like Caden. This boy could be no older than ten. And to be murdered so brutally, stolen from his family or from the orphanage or plucked off the streets...

I gently closed his eyes. I couldn't look at them anymore, not without getting sick or being gravely reminded of Caden, of the dull film that fell over his eyes when he had died.

This boy's eyes were of a hazel color, ones that likely once held within them all the stars, and all too clearly I could see how they might have looked full of life, full of hope, full of those stars. But all of that was gone from his eyes now.

I could only imagine the dreams this boy once had.

Were his dreams like Caden's? Did he want to see the night sky, so full of stars, like Caden? Or was he like my grandmother who had wanted once more to see a garden of flowers in full bloom? Was he like El, who wanted so badly to feel the sun on his face, something he so dearly missed?

Maybe he was like Farlan, who loved the idea of sitting in one spot all day and being able to see the sun rise on one end of the sky and dip below the horizon on the other, without the obstructed view of a wall? Even Levi dreamed, and maybe the child had dreamed similarly, of feeling rain pelt his skin, cool and fresh, with the sky a beautiful, stormy gray?

I'd never know. And that was all I knew.

"I'll find who did this to you. Don't worry, kiddo."

If anything, the evidence made it clear that this had happened recently. This kill was fresh, based solely on the way his body was not completely rigid with rigor mortis, the way blood still trickled from the wound, the way this candle had not burned out yet. And the smell.

I knew well the smell of death.

But that did not make it any easier to be in the room with such a stench.

As I stood and left the room, one thought, one question rang clearer than all the others, sticking out amidst the racket the rest of my mind was making: What kind of sick fuck tortures kids? As luck would have it, I would find out soon. This poor child would soon be avenged, and with it... maybe I could rest Caden's poor soul to rest, too.

But what if...

I faltered on my way down the stairs as the thought came to mind.

What if these are the people who killed Caden?

It would be incredibly coincidental if that were to be the case, right? It would seem too good to be true, certainly, yet the possibility was there. And now that I had thought it, it seemed to be all that I could think.

In all my years living in this city, and of all the horrors that I'd seen, experienced, and inflicted myself... never had I seen such violence towards a child. A child.

"Amaya," I heard Farlan call, and now effectively pulled from my thoughts I blinked and found him standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at me. "The first floor is clear. Did you find anything up there?"

I blinked a few times to remove the mental picture of the child from my mind. "Yes, actually," I said in answer, hurrying to descend to the first floor. Farlan's eyebrow pinched with concern when he heard my words and saw the way I approached and then passed him, stepping into the living room. "This is the place. Or... a place, anyway."

"What? What did you find?"

"And what took you so damn long?" Levi demanded, entering the living room now. "We can't idle for too long here. You know that."

"Yeah," I agreed seriously. "Yeah. I know. Trust me. It only took me so long because I got caught up in something rather disturbing."

"Focus," Levi said firmly. "We can't have you getting caught up like that again."

"It was only a few minutes," Farlan argued in my defense, and I was left to wonder how much time I'd spent up there. It must have been longer than I'd thought. Farlan looked at me, setting one hand on his hip. "Go on, Amaya."

"A dead child," I said in explanation. It was all I needed to say, but I continued. "Two empty rooms and one filled with blood from... however many children."

"Was there nothing else?"

"Nothing," I answered. "No furniture, nothing to search, nothing out of the ordinary. The kill is fresh. Their candle is still burning up there."

"Disgusting," Farlan muttered. "How was he..." He trailed off, hesitant. It was clear that he didn't really want to know what happened, but sickening curiosity had taken hold of him.

"I didn't check him entirely," I said, "but he had an awful chest wound. Sliced."

"Goddesses," Farlan breathed out. "Absolutely disgusting. Levi," he then said. "Just what are we dealing with here, exactly?"

"You saw the intel, just as I did," Levi responded evenly, sternly. "It's a dangerous group that will only continue to kill children until something is done."

"But why kids," I demanded of him, perhaps unfairly. It had to be unfair, wasn't it? Because he had nothing to do with this, it wasn't his fault. I was just frustrated at the fact it was happening, that someone could be so cruel as to murder children.

Levi's eyebrow quirked up at my question, and I bit the inside of my cheek as soon as I realized how awful it must have sounded. He was just being... too passive about this. How could he be so calm? How many people - how many families - were hoping with all their hearts that their children were safe, only for us to find that they were in fact murdered as the child upstairs had been?

I didn't realize how emotional I had gotten until Farlan took hold of my arm gently. "Amaya," he said softly, "are you alright? Do you want to step outside?"

"No," I answered firmly, as firmly as I could muster. "I'm fine. Don't worry about me. I just..."

"What's gotten into you?" Levi asked, his eyebrows furrowed with a mix of anger and confusion. "You need to focus. Of all jobs, we need to do this one right. We don't need you to be dead weight. Go back home if you're going to be detrimental to the job."

"I said I'm fine," I responded immediately, making it clear through my tone that I wasn't budging on this. "Let's get a move on. Did you two find anything down here?"

"Nothing on this level," Farlan answered as Levi's anger simmered. I ignored the look he was sending my way and met Farlan's eyes. "Downstairs, though..."

It was a leading sort of question, one that prompted me to ask another. "There's a lower level?"

"A basement, of sorts," Farlan answered. "Not quite sure why they dug down so deep into the rock, but it's modeled after old farmhouses, I think. I saw the entrance outside."

"Let's not waste more time," I said, pointedly looking at Levi. "I'll more than make up for the few minutes I wasted."

I led the way outside, then around to the back of the house with the two men in tow. Sturdy doors of wood were set at an angle leading downwards below the house and I didn't reach for the latch quite yet. There were thin streams of golden light streaming out, indicating activity inside, and recent activity at that. It could only be candlelight, or at least a lantern or two, meaning it wouldn't us well to burst in, metaphorical guns blazing. A large padlock kept the doors in place, and-

Levi brushed past me, raising one foot as though to kick right through it. I grabbed him by the arms and pulled him back, getting a surprised hiss of a curse out of him and a venomous sort of glare. "The hell are you doing, Amaya?"

"Think very carefully about this, Levi," I said as evenly as I could, doing what I could to not let my frustration reach my voice. "If you go down there like that, it'll start a fight immediately. Isn't it your policy to get information first, then kick ass if we need to? And if there are children down there, you'd only be endangering them."

Levi removed himself from my grasp and I held my arms up, palms to him in a placating gesture. His glare did not soften nor ease up, and didn't even glance away when Farlan made to step in.

"Cool it, you two," Farlan said. "Let's not fall apart here. You can fight, kiss, fuck, whatever you want to do later." Farlan, to his credit, didn't even so much as flinch when he was met with the force of both our glares. "Hell, yell at me if you want, I don't care. Just not now. Not here. We need to do this right. We mess this up, more kids are going to get taken and hurt and worse." Farlan looked at me and nodded. "Go ahead and do your thing, Amaya."

Once more, I removed the pin from my hair and I got to work unlocking it. When the padlock was off, Farlan gently nudged me out of the way. "Let the useless men do this part," Farlan said with a smile, passing me to reach the doors. He took hold of one, and Levi took hold of the other, and together they pulled the doors open. They luckily didn't even so much as squeak as they were set open.

I set the pin back in my hair, squaring my shoulders up and looking at them each in turn. "Ready, gentlemen?"

"After you," Farlan said. "Our master of secrecy. Go ahead."

I started down the stairs, keeping to one side and keeping my steps against the dirty stairs as quiet as I physically could. When Farlan's first step scuffed against the stone, all three of us paused. There was no response, no noise from within, and so I continued on.

When I was far enough down, I crouched down lower to peek inside. I saw a large room, lined with crates. The walls were absolutely covered with pages upon pages of documentation of some kind, and I could even see what looked to be a map of the city. But I was less interested in that, and far more concerned with the chairs in the center of the room. There were two, bound with rope and holding to them... two children.

"Oh, goddesses," I breathed out.

"What is it?"

"Two kids," I answered Farlan quietly. "Restrained. No one else. We were right not to barge in, but tread carefully. I hear voices in the next room."

There were, as I had mentioned, voices coming from a room further in. All the walls here were littered with those diagrams, maps, and lists upon lists of inventory, tasks, and... names. But the far wall, anyway, was mostly bare, and there was a wooden door in the center. Bright candlelight streamed through the cracks in the planks, and there were, of course, the two children seated in the center of the room, their heads bowed.

While I approached the children, Farlan and Levi reached the landing and started looking around for themselves. I hesitated before reaching out for the closer child and looked over my shoulder when I felt the added weight of another's gaze resting upon my back.

It was Levi. There was something strange in his eyes, not quite regret, not quite any form of sadness, but something else entirely. It was something I couldn't read, but perhaps it was simply because there was too much in his expression to decipher all at once.

It looked like he wanted to say something, and he opened his mouth to do so, but I caught sight of Farlan a few feet behind Levi, standing just before one of the walls and seeing something that he clearly did not like. His spine stiffened, and his eyes widened, and when Levi saw the surprise and confusion on my face from seeing Farlan react in such a way, his mouth closed and he looked over his shoulder at him.

"Farlan," I called quietly, unsure of how else to proceed. "What's wrong?"

"Your brother," Farlan said quietly, and at even those two words alone my heart dropped into my stomach. "Didn't you say his name was Caden?"

My face fell. I walked past Levi, my eyes trained on the wall before Farlan. As soon as I was close enough, I took the words on the pages in. There was an accompanying map next to an exhausted list of what I could only guess were children of the city. Names, likenesses, hair color.

My eyes scanned the list. "Amaya," I could hear Levi say, but I ignored him.

"Maybe you shouldn't..." Farlan trailed off, whatever words he was about to say dying in his throat.

Successful Cases, one of the pages read along the top. Down the page I went, down past children listed alphabetically. Past A, B, C, D, and E, I scanned. F, G, and H went by without incident.

When I made it to the children with last names beginning with I, I faltered.

Ikeda was on the list, though it was followed by a question mark, but preceding it was the name Caden.

"Oh, god," I gasped out, stepping away several paces. I could see his name scrawled in such scratchy font in my mind clearly, so clearly, even when my gaze lowered to the ground. I cupped my hand over my mouth, doing what I could to keep from making any noise. Because goddesses help me, I wanted to scream.

Farlan had me by the shoulders then, holding me steady and blocking the page from view. "Amaya," he said gently, "take a breath. Come on, take a deep breath."

I shook my head slowly. "Caden..."

"I know," Farlan said soothingly. "I know."

"Step outside if you need to," Levi said, standing by my side now. "I think we've seen enough." He eyed the door leading further into the basement, a deadly glint in his eyes. There was a courageous sort of fire in them, one that I didn't see often. "Personal stock aside, we've got enough to take care of them. Now."

By taking care of them, Levi of course meant in a fatal sort of way, and I was certainly right behind him. What I wanted to know was why. What reason could someone have to kill Caden? To kill so many children?

The names here... there had been a rise in recent weeks of children going missing and assuredly being killed as we now knew, but the sheer number of names listed under the page Caden's name was on, and the others just like it, and the fact that they had the information that they did...

Disgusting. What sorry excuse of a human being could possibly be behind this?

I gently removed myself from Farlan's hold and stepped around him, finding myself before the page - or at least one of them - of successful cases.

Caden Ikeda: Male. Green eyes. Brown hair.

False, I thought to myself. Green eyes... They were more than green. They were gorgeous. Less green and more... emerald, perhaps. The color of tree leaves in summer, El had said. Green wasn't enough. They didn't know him. They didn't. And yet they...

I reached out, tracing my fingertips along the page, along his name, as though that might allow me to see him. As though doing so would allow me to feel his hug again, his hand holding mine, the softness of his hair, anything.

That sweet, innocent child.... How could they kill you, and dare call it a success?

My eyes lowered to the table below that page. It too, was littered with paperwork. One pile caught my eye, but more specifically, the page on top of it. I could distinctly hear Levi cross the room and crouch, the metal boxes of the gear landing with a soft, metallic thud against the dirt.

"They're alive," I heard him say.

I picked up the piece of paper atop the pile. It seemed to be a letter. "There are more kids sapping the city's resources than there are whores to make up for it," I read aloud, my voice quiet. "It is a very sin for these children to be born. They are no boon, they are a burden on this city. It's hell already; the cries of a child mingle well with the cries of a dying man. And yet that man might yet have been saved if the child did not require so much food, so much nourishment."

"What a load of nonsense," Farlan said. "Those kids don't have it easier than us."

"It is a sin to be born," I repeated quietly.

"It's a crock of shit," Levi said. "Nothing more, nothing less."

"It was a sin for Caden to be born," I said, before shaking my head vehemently. "No. Absolutely not. They killed him because he was born? They were born, too. So was I." I looked around the room. His death was as meticulously planned as every single other child listed here. And how many more children were to follow?

I'd heard it said that bad things happen to good people.

What, then, would you say about a child? A child of pure heart, pure intentions, and a heart of gold. Caden was the very manifestation of this, and yet... he had been killed.

Awful things happen to great people, perhaps.

So... what divine justice could I bring to people so cowardly, so inhumane, to kill a child? How could I possibly avenge them? How could I ever bring peace to their poor, tortured souls?

What could I possibly do?

I looked now to the children in the room, waiting for their salvation... or for their impending doom.

I'd never really thought of myself as a hero before. I certainly hadn't been a hero to Caden, when he needed me most. But maybe, just maybe... To these children, anyway...

I knew what I could do.

No... I knew what I had to do.