Shouts echoed through the city gates. Tallis risked trotting forward and peeking through. A host citizens were screaming at a squad of detectives. Things were about to turn ugly.

“Should we step in?” Tallis asked.

Aragam patted a leather box pouch strapped to his waist. “How many bullets do you have left?”

Tallis ran a hand over his gun belt, feeling the empty loops. There were no bullets left. He eased the revolver open and the shells sprang free. He threw away the empty casings. “I have four.”

Aragam leaned around the gate. “I have three. Let’s leave these guys to duke it out, yeah? And we’ll slip around the outside of the walls.”

The detectives fell back, beating a hasty retreat towards the station.

“Good,” Aragam continued. He slipped into the thin brush pushing up against the walls and started walking. “Can’t really blame them can you, eh? I imagine there will be hell to pay later though, yeah?”

“I can imagine,” said Tallis with a shrug. “I feel bad for them. Poor bastards.”

“Sadly, nothing we can do for them. Not now anyway. We need to keep focus, right?”

Tallis nodded. One more job. That was something he could get behind. “Right. Gods, I just hope Dad is okay.”

“Anyone with the balls to jump off a wagon into a fistfight like that should be just fine. Any idea where he might go?”

“He wouldn’t stay in the city that’s for sure.” Growing up, Tallis had few memories of Edward spending any time indoors. “I think he’d run for the trees.”

“At least that narrows it down some.” Aragam gestured to the green expanse of thick woods surrounding the city. “Anywhere in particular he’d run to?”

Tallis nodded. “Yeah, I think I have a place in mind.” 

They pressed on, slipping past the city and into the green embrace of the forest. Aragam kept his eyes on the ground as they moved, stopping occasionally to inspect a broken branch or a patch of mud. "Your father doesn't have a limp by any chance, does he?"

"He does." Tallis nodded. "A giant broke his leg when he was younger and I don't think it ever quite healed right."

"Sure," said Aragam with a sour hint of sarcasm in his voice. "And I was raised by dragons."

"It's true," Tallis snapped, regretting it instantly. He hadn't meant to sound so angry but the battle in the police station had left him feeling like every nerve in his body had been scraped raw and left open to the cold. With the adrenaline gone, he was freezing and shaking and irritable. all he wanted was to lie down and sleep for a month, but there wasn't time for that now.

There was still one more job to do.

"If that's true," said Aragam with a chuckle. "It would explain a lot."

"I'm sorry," said Tallis with a sigh. Gods he just wanted this mess to be over with. "I didn't mean to snap at you."

"Water under the bridge, yeah? Before this I was a chef in one of the biggest restaurants this side of the Iron Sea. Before that I served a stint in the army, before they got all picky about letting Changelings into the service. So you have to believe me when I say I've heard worse. I've had drill sergeants screaming in face, head chefs calling me donkey and donut and dumbass and every name in the book. So, I am not going to get my knickers in a twist over one little snap. We all get a little raw and jittery once the action stops, okay? It's fine."

"Okay." Tallis allowed himself a small smile. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it." Aragam brushed a curtain of low hanging moss aside and ducked under a branch, pushing deeper into the forest. "When I was your age I thought everything I said was the end of the world too. Turns out people don't actually care as much as you think they do."

They kept moving on a wide looping trail around the city. The forest thinned as they swung around to the north gate and stepped into the grassy clearing where they'd left their horses. The animals were all gone.

"Shit," said Aragam, kicking a tree root poking up from the ground.

Tallis crept to the edge of the glade, keeping a close eye on the city gate they could see poking through the trees. There was a puddle where the edge of the forest met the road and a clear hoof print in the mud next to it.

"Maybe dad took the horses?" he said. "Two of them were ours after all."

Aragam slipped in behind, moving with the same bouncing stride he had the previous day. The longer they spent outside the walls, the more life and colour seemed to leech back into him.

He squinted across the road and pointed into the underbrush. "Looks like he might have gone up there through the brush."

Tallis followed where he was pointing but all he saw was the same unbroken stretch of green and black leaves, and twisting shadows. How the Changeling could tell that was where Ed went from way back here was a mystery, but he nodded anyway, not wanting to make a fool of himself.

They paused for a breath, shot one more furtive glance to the gate and dashed across the road. A heavy silence met them on the other side, dark and brooding. Tallis held his breath, waiting for the gunshot or the shout that would let him know they had been spotted. A crow cawed overhead and Tallis shrunk behind a bush with a yelp.

The bird flew off and a light bubbling laughter spilled out of Aragam. "Look out," he said, still chuckling. "That crow might swoop down and get you."

Tallis brushed himself off. "Shut up," he said smiling. He gave the Changeling a light shove and they moved on together. The woods fought them at every turn, thorn bushes seemed to rise out of nothing, mud sucked their boots to the ground, and Tallis cursed the place with every step. Aragam was less bothered by the rough terrain and flowed through the forest without difficulty, like a stream flowing over stones. It did nothing to help Tallis' darkening mood.

They broke free of the clinging fingers of the forest and into the small clearing his father used for his rituals. The storm owl hooted a greeting and Tallis shot it a weary look. Was the bird here as a good omen, or was it there to ferry someone's soul to the underworld? He wasn't sure which myth to believe anymore. One thing he did know was that his father wasn't here. Packs and supplies had been laid out across the grass, both horses were saddled and ready but there was no Edward.

"Damn it," Tallis shouted. He kicked a stone across the clearing and sat heavily next to the horses, hanging his head in his hands. "Gods damn it." A stinging tear rolled down his cheek. Why couldn't anything just work out?

"Pick yourself, boy," said Aragam. "There's still work to do." He sounded angry, frustrated and there was a touch of a growl in his voice.

"How?" said Tallis, spreading his arms and gesturing to the trees around him. "How are we going to find him in all this? He could be anywhere!"

Aragam took him by the arm and hauled him roughly to his feet. "I don't know, okay? I don't. But how is sitting down and quitting going to help us?"

Tallis shrugged and wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

"It's not, okay? Now, I don't give a pickled fig whether you want to cry and yell and pitch a fit but that doesn't mean we stop working. Is there anything close to this spot?"

"Home."

"Simplest answer is usually the right one, yeah? Why don't we check there instead of losing our minds."

Tallis took a deep breath and nodded. It was a good plan. Maybe Ed had just forgotten to pack something and had gone back to the house. That made perfect sense. Nodding to himself he led Aragam through the woods and out into the golden fields surrounding the farm. They walked down the worn path between the fields and pushed open the house’s broken door.

Ed was standing in the middle of the kitchen, and Allistair stood behind him holding a crossbow. Tallis tilted his head and blinked at the weapon. What in seven hells was he doing with that?

“Hello, boy,” said Allistair. “Thought you might show up here.”

This day just couldn’t get any worse could it. “Great,” said Tallis. “I don’t suppose there’s much chance of you letting us all go, is there?”

“Not a chance.”

Aragam rushed through the door behind him trailing a wind from the darkest night of winter. The first syllable of a spell left his lips and the crossbow sang a single twanging note. A pale wooden shaft grazed Tallis’ arm and buried itself in Aragam’s chest. The Changeling gasped and all the colour drained from his face. He fell to the floor, struggling to pull in shallow rattling breaths. Tallis cried out. It was a wordless howl of pain like the noise an animal would make. He took Aragam’s hand in his own and pressed his free hand to the wound.

A soft metal clack filled the room behind him. It was a small noise, but carried a great and terrible weight. He turned slowly. Allistair sneered down at him, cowering behind Edward and aiming his signature pistol over the other man’s shoulder. He was despicable, and a sour yellow hate rose from the pit of Tallis’ stomach like bile.

Ed gave Tallis a barely perceptible nod and caught his attention. He mouthed the words ‘play dead’.

Allistair sneered down at them. “Last words, boy”

Tallis shook his head. The sergeants finger tightened on the trigger. Ed bumped him, pushing his aim a hair's breadth off center. The gun roared, as hot and loud as the gates of hell itself being kicked in. Tallis fell back, flopping down into the spreading pool of blood around Aragam. Ed took off through the door. Allistair hesitated for a moment, looking down at Tallis with, what? Sadness? Pity? Contempt? Maybe some mix of all three. He shook his head, swallowed whatever feelings he had and took off after the limping farmer. The owl that wouldn’t leave the house alone had other plans. It swooped down, bleak and terrible as death itself, flared it’s wings with a screech and fired a bolt of lightning from the space between its eyes. White fire joined the two figures for barely a second, the light so bright it left Tallis blinking spots from his eyes. Allistair jerked and twitched, a marionette on the strings of a drunk puppeteer, and fell spasming. With one final gasp all of his limbs went stiff. The gun roared again. The storm owl let out a wail of agony, piercing and plaintive. It fell, bleeding.

White feathers drifted on the breeze.

Tallis scrambled to his feet, and rushed outside. Ed turned back with a scream and sprinted back to the fallen bird. He scooped it up into his arms, and tears ran down his cheeks. He stroked the creatures fur, and whispered to it softly as the light left its eyes. He choked back a final sob and laid the owl down.

“Tallis,” he said, his voice thick and heavy. “You have to go.”

Tallis shook his head. “I’m not leaving. I’ve given up so much to save you. I’m not quitting now!”

Ed closed the gap between them and wrapped his son in a hug that felt like it could ward off all of the horror and sadness in the entire world. He put his hands on Tallis’ shoulders and took a half step back. “I’m sorry. But that’s just the way it has to be. I made a mistake getting you into Cold Iron, son.” He leaned to the side and spat in Allistair’s direction. “They aren’t what they were supposed to be. Not even close. And it’s high time someone culled the sick ones before they spoil the whole herd.”

Allistair twitched again and moaned weakly.

“I don’t think we have long before he gets up, and I’m sure he has help coming. So you and I need to move.” He let out a long sigh and blinked away another tear. “I’ll go west and you ride east, okay? I’ll draw them away from you.”

“No!” Tallis shook his head. “I’m coming with you. We’ll do this together.”

Ed grit his teeth and his expression hardened. “Don’t be stubborn. Let me protect you.” He motioned towards the dead storm owl. “I don’t know how to say this but I’ve been living on borrowed time for a long while and you’ll be safer alone. I just need you to trust me, okay?”

Distant hoofbeats and shouts echoed from down the road.

Tallis nodded.

A hacking cough came from the door behind him and someone spat. “Fuck me,” said Aragam. “I suppose you’re just going to leave me to die, eh?”

The two men rushed to the Changeling’s side and each put a shoulder under one of his arms, lifting him and carrying him to the forest. They hurried into the forest and Tallis helped lift Aragam onto Phaethon the horse. He climbed up after him and turned the horse eastward.

“San Tempes,” Aragam croaked.

Ed shot him a questioning look.

“San Tempes,” Aragam repeated. “That’s where the train was going. That’s where we sent your husband.”

Ed nodded. “Right. Thanks.” He gave Tallis a parting wave as he headed off into the end. “Proud of you, son. I’ll see you soon I promise.” He gave his horse a kick and set off through the brush as fast as he was able.

Another hacking cough rolled through the Changeling and he spat a gob of blood onto Tallis’ shoulder. “Sorry,” he wheezed.

Tallis gave Phaethon a tap with his heels, the horse snorted, almost defiantly, but started walking anyway. He could feel Aragam rooting for something in his vest pocket behind him and they passed a blood stained map over Tallis’ shoulder.

“Here,” they said. “Map to the old spot.” He coughed and spat another gob of blood. “At least you can bring them something to bury.”
       
Tallis frowned for a moment then he caught what Aragam had meant. He felt like he was thinking through a thick haze, nothing was as clear as it should have been right now. “To hells with that, buddy.” He thumped his heels into Phaethon’s ribs and reached as far forward as he could with the map, trying to get it in front of the horse. “Get us there boy.”

Aragam fell limp behind him, and Phaethon stopped and reared with a whinny. Tallis dropped the map. That was great, just great. The map fell into a puddle and was ruined and the last thing he had done was show it to a horse. Phaethon leapt forward like a host of devils were nipping at his heels and charged through the forest. It was all Tallis could do just to hold on. The horse weaved between the trees and leapt over streams. He didn’t move like an animal. He didn’t move like anything that belonged to this Earth. He moved like a summer storm. He was speed and power themselves pressed into a horse’s shape.

The muscles in Tallis’ legs burned and trembled and his fingernail bit bloody trails into his palms from holding the reins so hard. He hauled back on the reins, desperate to get the horse to slow down. He pulled too hard and yanked the bit out of Phaethon’s mouth. The horse snorted and his breath fogged the air in great clouds of steam. His breath was sweet, like wildflowers after a spring rain. He shook his head, like he was glad to be rid of the reins, and ran harder. Tallis dug his fingers into the horse’s mane, screwed his eyes shut tight and leaned down, pressing his face into Phaethon’s neck.

The beast would not quit. He would not slow. He would not stop. He ran for hours. He ran until the sun dipped below the horizon and the sky was painted in purples and fading strokes of gold. He ran until they reached the base of a stone tower. The structure looked as old as time itself and was built from rough hewn bricks of dark stone. Crumbling stumps of ancient walls flanked the tower, little more than mounds of storm blasted rocks worn smooth and round by the passage of time. Green moss crept up the sides of the tower, interspersed by thick ropy vines. A single door stood atop a short staircase leading into the tower. The door was new, all bright wood and shiny brass.

Tallis pried his finger’s out of Phaethon’s hair and slipped down his flank. He landed on jellied legs and pulled Aragam off the horse, holding the Changeling close.

“That horse,” Aragam wheezed. “Is-” He coughed and spat blood again. “-fucked.”

Tallis eyed Phaethon warily, and trotted up the decaying steps. He kicked the door open and stumbled inside. A winding spiral staircase and a damp cold silence greeted him. “Help,” he screamed.

More silence.

Panicked, he did the only thing he could and ran up the stairs. Aragam was light but he was growing heavier with every step. Tallis’ shirt was soaked through with a stinking mixture of blood and sweat. His lungs burned like every breath he sucked in was a cloud of white hot flame. His legs cramped, and he slipped, smashing a knee on the cold stone. He grit his teeth, shoved the dull throbbing pain from his mind and kept running. The world went grey and fuzzy at the edges. Everything narrowed and darkened until all he could see was the next step in front of him. That was fine. That was all he needed.

An ocean of black and blue pain slowly swallowed him. Drowning him, and pulling him under until his whole world was hurt. But he could still see the next step. He could still climb. That was all he needed.

After an eternity, the steps ended in another door made of bright and brass. It seemed to glow with its own light. It hurt to look at, so Tallis shut his eyes and shouldered his way through it. He fell to his knees and blinked in the glow of candles and oil lamps. There were people here but he was too tired to tell who they were.

“Please help,” he gasped before falling forward onto the cold stone. The chill surface was nice. He never wanted to leave. He took one more shuddering breath as a pair of hands shook him. They tried to lift him but he was having none of that. The cold floor was his life now. It was all he needed. The lights went out, the hands let him go, and consciousness fled on a tide of burning pain.