"It all began with the Tablet," Orix began, staring into the fire. "Before the First—"

"What Tablet?" Wren demanded, interrupting. "I've never heard of a Tablet."

"Let him talk, Wren," Godfrey said in a whisper, although everyone could hear him in the tiny cottage.

Wren sat back and drew a line over her lips in a gesture of silence. If the crew wanted to give the mage a chance to spew lies, it was their choice. She was outnumbered. Deep down, however, she was curious to hear what he had to say.

"Right..." Orix said, scratching his straggly beard. "It all began with the First Mage's Tablet. Before the First Mage died, she left a set of instructions for all future mages. Rules to guarantee that we all lived in harmony. Or, at the very least, to ensure no one veered terribly off the rails. She created the fog around Meraki, and a passage to get through."

It felt like a giant bucket of ice-cold water had just been dumped over her head. A mage had created the fog? The crew stared at Orix, just as shocked as Wren. All their lives, they'd been told that the fog was a bizarre natural phenomenon...now they were learning that it was a mage's doing?

The strangest part was that Orix didn't look like he had just delivered surprising news. He'd said it so off the cuff: as we all know, the First Mage created the fog...

Wren had to stop herself from interrupting with a flurry of questions. She tried to shake off her surprise and keep listening.

"It was a failsafe, only to be used in the most dire of circumstances. And as such, it required all seven mages to open...sort of an insurance policy against only one of us opening it on a whim, and weakening the barrier.

"When the Paragon came to us, we didn't want to open the passage in the fog. Not at first. The First Mage had been very clear that it should only be used as a last resort."

He sighed. "But over the centuries, the details regarding why we shouldn't open the passage were lost. And I'm ashamed to say that eventually we found ourselves not asking why should we...but why shouldn't we?

"I was against it, for what it's worth," he said, looking at them. "As were two of the others."

Didn't stop you from going along with it, Wren thought angrily.

"But the president had the Lead Mage, Apostas's, ear. He lured us in with honeyed words and rich promises of the world beyond Meraki. He spoke of change in Meraki, real change. He said that the spoils from the world beyond would mean we could open schools, better hospitals, protect the wildlands...we could improve things."

He let out a harsh laugh, but there was no humour in it.

"The irony. I remember how happy the president looked, when Apostas finally agreed to open the passage...we should have known then what a terrible decision it was, but we were naive. Just incredibly naive..."

He prodded the dwindling fire with a rusty poker, and it gasped back to life, the hot embers emanating heat.

"Arrangements were made, and the military was readied. We took a fleet of ships from Kinvarra over the open water, until we were face-to-face with the passage.

"It didn't look like much. A fine, dark circle, barely distinguishable from the surrounding grey sky. We stepped out onto the deck of our ship. The wind was roaring—we were so close to the fog barrier—and the rain came down in sheets. We were soaked through as soon as we stepped outside.

"We stood together, held our arms up to the sky. Pooled our magic. The shades flared pure white—I've never seen anything like it. They lit up the dark sky and for a moment, even the rain stopped. And the passage...the passage opened."

The mage's eyes were focused on some distant point, and Wren knew he was seeing it all again, as though it had happened yesterday.

"Behind us, the Paragon was ready with guns and ammunition. No one knew what to expect. We were ready to seal the passage again at a moment's notice, if need be.

"But when we flew through, there was no roaring inferno, no empty vacuum of space...certainly no waiting beasts. Simply more of the same: pounding rain, angry waves, and the harsh wind. And so we flew through the passage, keeping our guard up, ready to turn back if necessary, but all we found was the desert. The vast expanse of sand and dunes.

"It soon became clear that there was no sign of urgent danger. The Paragon proclaimed the mission a success and returned to Meraki triumphant."

Wren remembered that day well. It was splashed all over the papers in Kinvarra: "MERAKI'S PRESIDENT GLASS MAKES HISTORY" and "OUR WORLD EXPANDS, BEYOND THE FOG!". Photographs of the president and Lady Sofia standing proudly with the seven mages popped into her head. She didn't remember Orix, specifically: the mages in the photos were nothing but hazy blurs to her now, eight years later.

"The Paragon colonized the land. They called their first community the Settlement."

Oh, we know all about the Settlement, mage.

"They brought over people and supplies, and in a matter of months they had built a small outpost. We had a rule that there would always be a mage in the Settlement. For protection, just in case.

He paused to rearrange his robes. "I detested my shifts in the Settlement. The desert here in Meraki is alive with creatures, but there was nothing in that desert. Nothing at all: no mammals, no birds, not even the buzz of insects." He shivered. "It was unnatural. But even more than I detested going to the Settlement, I hated when it was Abraham's turn. He was fearless."

Here, the mage's voice softened, and Wren found herself wondering if Orix had been sweet on him. "Perhaps I felt it was my responsibility to fear for him. I insisted on sending him with Ettie. She was my most trusted owl, and a true friend. She allowed me to use her eyes, you see, so that I could keep tabs on things. Communication with the Settlement was spotty at best, limited to those huge, clunky devices that the Paragon uses, whatever they're called..." He snapped his fingers by his ear, scrunching up his face—

"Radios?" Godfrey offered.

"Yes! Radios! Terrible contraptions. Anyhow. My fears began to seem silly and unwarranted. Because nothing ever happened—not until that terrible night."

About time, Wren thought. Can't wait to hear his excuses on this. Maybe she was being uncharitable, but nothing he'd said had changed her mind about the mages. If anything, the knowledge that a mage had created the fog in the first place only strengthened her loathing.

"It was the middle of the night, and I couldn't sleep. An expedition had left from the Settlement earlier that day and not returned when they were supposed to. Not completely strange. It happens—groups had been trapped by desert storms before. But even so, it made me nervous. I watched through Ettie's eyes from my room in the mages' headquarters."

The mages' headquarters were no more—after the Settlement, the Paragon had reclaimed them.

"Being nocturnal, Ettie was on patrol. She was doing her circuit around the Settlement when she strayed from her usual path. She kept returning to the far side, where the edge of the city met the desert. It was pitch black, but Ettie could see a few hundred feet. She narrowed in on a Paragon soldier running through the sand. His pace was so slow...he was barely holding himself upright.

"When he came into the light, I could see that his face was bloodied, and his uniform was shredded...he was terrified."

The crew were on the edge of their seats. The shrew from before was nudging Scarlett's foot, trying to return to its chair, but she was so absorbed by the mage that she didn't feel his insistent pokes.

"The soldier kept glancing behind him. He stumbled and fell onto the sand. He opened his mouth to cry out, but something dragged him back into the darkness...and then it stepped into the light." Orix fell silent, staring into the dancing flames of the fire.

"What did?" Teddy breathed.

The mage looked up. Locked eyes with Teddy. "The moraith."

Wren rolled her eyes. Here we go. The thing that will make us forgive the mages for what they did.

Of course they'd have an explanation. They'd had eight whole years to think of one!

Anger boiled inside of her, but she kept her mouth firmly shut. This is just another assignment from the Mothers, she told herself. You're playing a role. Acting like you believe this crock of lies. Get as much information as you can, and get out.

"I'd never seen anything like it. It was immense, at least three storeys tall. Its eyes were blood-red, it had slits for pupils. And its skin...horrible. Its skin was weathered and pale, almost grey, pulled tight over its skeleton.

"When it opened its mouth, there were rows of spindly, razor-sharp teeth, coated in red...it let out the strangest sound. A clicking...guttural, from the very depths of its body. Ettie more felt it than heard it. It reverberated through the very air.

"I kept watching through her eyes, but back at the headquarters I went to the tallest tower and sent carrier pigeons to the other mages and the Paragon to warn them. I told them to send ships with reinforcements through the passage. I used my magic to make the birds faster, to lighten the scrolls tied to their legs, to cut the wind and speed their travels.

"But back in the Settlement, the moraith's clicking must have been a rallying cry because soon, another one appeared. And another. I don't know how many there were, all told—all I know is they kept coming.

"They moved impossibly fast, scuttling like insects over the sand...and it was only at that point that I realized there was no way the soldier had managed to outrun them." Orix looked up, finally meeting the crew's eyes. "They let the soldier live until he led them to the Settlement. They only killed him when they didn't need him anymore. And that chilled me to my very core.

"Ettie flew back as fast as she could. She always knew what needed to be done—she didn't need a human like me to tell her. Not that I was in a position to do a fogging thing, anyway. I was stuck in Meraki, useless."

He clenched his hands and took a deep inhale before continuing. "She woke up Abraham with her screeches. He woke the others, sounded the alarm...but by then, the moraiths were already at their doorstep."

Wren didn't know much about the night her family died. The Paragon had only offered the bare minimum, focusing their propaganda on the mages' betrayal.

Hearing Orix reveal what had happened on the Settlement—if he could be trusted, which was doubtful—made her feel strangely disconnected. She was hearing him speak, there were words coming out of his mouth, but it was like they weren't fully registering in her mind.

"It was the middle of the night," Orix went on. "The Settlement wasn't ready. How could they be? No one expected anything like the moraith attack. Every expedition they'd sent out had returned empty-handed. There were no living things on the entire mainland as far as we were concerned. The military presence was so strong in the early days, prepared for anything, but several months in...they had let their guard down. Most people were asleep in their beds when the alarms woke them. They were tired, confused. Didn't understand what was happening. The lucky ones didn't wait—they ran to the docks, to the ships. Only one zeppelin was stationed there, though, and it didn't have enough space for everyone. Not nearly enough space."

Orix's back was hunched now, as though he could barely hold up his own weight. His gaze bore a hole into the ground. The memory of that night was written all over his body.

"I watched the attack. The moraiths tore through brick and mortar like it was nothing. They were forces of complete and utter destruction, leaving nothing but the dead in their wake.

"I was the only one with eyes on the ground, and so I told the others what was happening. That was my pitiful role, while everyone in the Settlement fought for their lives." His voice was bitter.

"The people were brave. They tried everything. They used their guns, but the bullets didn't even pierce the skin. They used firebombs, but the moraiths walked right through the flames like they were nothing. Abraham lifted boulders and hurled them at the beasts, but they just kept coming. He filled their lungs with water. He burned them from the inside. He and the soldiers managed to decapitate one of them...but even as they watched its head turn to dust in the sand, another head grew in its place. The moraith was back up in less than a minute with no damage done. This...creature," he said slowly, "had been completely decapitated. And it was already back on its feet."

Wren felt like her world had just been tossed upside down. It was impossible, wasn't it? Orix couldn't be telling the truth, could he?

"That was the moment that everything changed. We realized we couldn't win...we could only contain the damage.

"When the moraiths were finished with the Settlement, they moved out to the sea. They were headed for the passage, and for Meraki. And so we closed the passage to the Settlement. Seven of us were needed to open the passage, but we only needed one to close it. Thanks be to the First Mage's wisdom."

Finally, he went quiet.

Wren turned to look at the others. Godfrey's face had gone pale. Scarlett's jaw was tight, and she leaned heavily on her knees. Teddy's mouth was open, as though he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

Abigail slipped her small hand into Wren's. She felt a surge of emotions, threatening to get the better of her.

"But!" Orix blurted out, startling the lot of them. "Now we know that Abraham is alive, and his shade proves it! He's managed to separate from it somehow, and he's sent it to us. If Abraham is still alive, you can rest assured he saved others, too. That might be why he came to you first. Does one of you have a connection to the Settlement?"

She cleared her throat. "You could say that."

"We lost our families on the Settlement," Teddy told the mage.

"How strange! All of you? What a coincidence that you ended up together."

Wren blinked. Orix was not the brightest bulb in the deep woods.

He pushed himself up to standing and gave a little shake, as though sloughing off residual sadness. "Maybe one of your relatives told Abraham to find you first," he said. "We'll have to ask the survivors when we retrieve them."

"...retrieve them?" Scarlett repeated.

"Yes, of course retrieve them! But we need all seven mages to open the passage. And we need a way to deal with the moraiths. We don't need to kill them—we just need to buy ourselves some time." He turned to the others, hands on his hips. "Come on, now. Any ideas? I feel like I'm doing all the thinking here."

"We could try distract and plunder," Godfrey suggested.

Wren's eyebrows shot up. Careful, cautious Godfrey was going along with the mage?

"Hold on, hold on, hold on," she said, looking around incredulously. "We don't actually believe this guy, do we? He's a mage!"

"Yeah, and those are our families in the Settlement," said Godfrey.

She couldn't believe this "They're dead, Frey!"

"We don't have time for your nay-saying," Orix said haughtily. "Those people have been trapped in the Settlement for eight years!"

"And yet we had plenty of time for long-winded stories!" she bit back.

"Distract and plunder might work," said Abigail, ignoring her.

"Not you too," Wren moaned. Abigail was the last person she'd expect to get caught up in this insanity.

"We'll need a ship," Abigail continued. "We can send it in for a crash landing, use it to draw these moraith things away from the Settlement."

"We should use a scrapper," Teddy suggested.

Orix picked up a canvas bag and began loading it with books and supplies. "Very good! A plan. There's no time to waste."

Wren jumped to standing, hands out. "Wait! Hold on just a second!" She turned to address the others. "We don't even know this weirdo! He could head straight to the Paragon and turn us in."

Standing there, she suddenly felt like Godfrey—trying to talk sense into a group of people intent on marching straight into danger.

"You don't need to trust me," Orix said as he scribbled notes on small pieces of parchment. "You just need to trust that we have the same end goal in mind."

Wren scoffed. "I think we need a little bit more than that."

Orix rolled up the notes and clicked his tongue. A pigeon flew onto his arm.

"Take this to Apostas and the others," he told the bird. It flew through an open window and into the night.

He clicked his tongue again, and a second pigeon took the place of the first.

"And take this to Rosalind." The bird gave a quick coo of acknowledgment and took off.

"For the patients," he explained, gesturing to the many creatures in the cottage.

He turned back to Wren. "If you need more reason to trust me, here it is: Abraham is my husband."

Ah. So Orix did have a bit of a crush.

"It almost killed me, closing the passage in the fog. I thought I had killed him, but it seems I have been granted a miraculous second chance. I'm going to get him back. You can join me or not. It's up to you."

Orix slipped the bag on his shoulder and walked out of the cottage. Godfrey leapt up and followed, the others close behind. Wren picked up the rear, nearly slipping on the moss-covered doorstep.

"Where are we going?!" she finally asked.

Orix was stomping his way through the woods. "You have a ship, do you not?"

"Yeah," said Godfrey.

"And you are pirates, yes?"

"What? Of course not!" Teddy lied.

"That's a pity. I thought you would have connections that could get us a second ship. A 'scrapper,' as you called it."

"We could ask the Mothers," Scarlett offered.

"No way," Abigail argued. "They'd take the shade for themselves. We should go to Leonard's."

"That might work!" Teddy agreed.

"What's a Leonard?" Orix asked over his shoulder.

"'Who,'" Abigail corrected him. "An under-the-radar ship mechanic. He specializes in pirate vessels."

"Shush!" Wren chided Abigail, who only shrugged. Did they really need to tell Orix everything?

"Ah, very good! A Leonard, it is!" Orix picked up the pace. The group had to run to keep up.

"Question," she said. "If you're a mage, why don't you just use your magic to get us a ship, huh?"

Orix didn't slow down. "I don't do magic. Haven't for eight years, not since I lost Abraham. Now hurry up, everyone! Trot trot!"

Wren barked out a laugh. "Fantastic! A mage who doesn't use magic. Just what we need..."

But Wren found that she was no longer doubting whether they should trust the mage for the time being: if Orix was so affected by Abraham's death that he stopped doing magic entirely, then he must have loved him a great deal.