Five minutes ago, Mei had been wrestling with the following emotions: guilt for making her friends travel so far to find her, relief they’d come anyway, and worry because despite Maggie’s attempt to hide it, she needed help from Mei the fighter, not Mei the hunter.

  Four minutes ago, she’d been staring at the gleaming ax on the table. The weapon was perfectly balanced, effortlessly sharp, and more useful than the dagger Maggie had given her, although the only uses Mei could think of at the moment were chopping, slicing, and disemboweling.

  Three minutes ago, she’d been tracing the embroidery on the uniform Fran had brought her, the merchant daughter’s attempt to slot Mei back into a world where she’d nearly killed her own brother, and to mark her as worthy of the friends who cared enough to lie about why they had ridden all night to find her.

  Two minutes ago, she’d found herself marveling at the crossbow Maggie had brought and the collection of colorful canisters - ash-gray Obscure, blue Sleep, black Detonate, magenta Mesmer - that came with it. Of these, only Sleep was familiar as it smelled of bluecap mushrooms, Maggie’s favorite ingredient. Mei had put together how to load the crossbow: brace against something hard, push in the mechanism, load canister.

  One minute ago, she’d started feeling guilty and relieved and worried all over again when she heard, “Qesheffuf!”

  The spell was Dwayne’s, but the voice wasn’t, and so Mei had found herself climbing up the chimney with the ax in her teeth and the crossbow and box of canisters above her. It was tight, it was sooty, but by the time Charlie’s door was splinters, she was on the cabin roof, wincing at how the shingles cut into her bare feet, at how the chill bit into her bones.

  Now Mei watched as Delma Lo Duca ordered three armed and armored monks into the forest as the three who’d destroyed Charlie’s door rejoined her. Under the glare of a second green-cloaked mage, Mei’s friends were buried in mud up to the next. Those strange beads on Maggie and Fran were probably why Maggie hadn’t magicked them free yet.

  “Li Mei.”

  Mei’s hand caught her scream. Hui Yeh and his sister Black Tiger were both sitting in the boughs of the massive doak behind the cabin.

  “What are you doing?” Mei asked in Tuquese.

  Yeh shrugged. “We cannot get involved in Souran affairs.”

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Mei’s expression tightened. “So you won’t help.”

  “What my brother means,” Black Tiger pulled a bundle off her back, “is that we can’t be seen involving ourselves in Souran affairs.”

  Mei frowned. “Meaning?”

  Yeh gave his sister a look. “Are you sure?”

  “It hardly benefits the Empire for her to die today. Besides,” Black Tiger’s eyes glinted ice blue behind her mask, “they brought eight. It’s hardly honorable.”

  Yeh sighed. “Fine. Do what you want.”

  “I will.”

  As her brother disappeared, Black Tiger landed on the roof. “You can’t fight like that. Here.” She handed Mei the bundle. “Wear these.”

  The bundle turned out to be a black leather belt, a thick dark blue tunic, a pair of furred boots, a pair of long dark blue leggings, and a black cloak. In other words, another uniform, but an improvement over what Mei was currently wearing, a light tunic and shorts. As Mei dressed, she asked, “What will you do?”

  “You don’t need to know.” Black Tiger crouched. “But I’m sure you’ll find out.” She back-flipped into the trees.

  Not very comforting, but at least Mei was warm now. She slipped her ax into the belt, then looked over the four canisters she’d brought, one of each kind.

  Which one to fire first?

  “Mei!” called out Delma. “I know you’re out there. Surrender now and they won’t be hurt.”

  Sleep might knock out everyone or only Mei’s friends.

  “You have until the count of three to reveal yourself!”

  Detonate had a solid chance of killing everyone.

  “One.”

  But Mei had no idea what Mesmer or Obscure would do, or why they had the letters “F” and “D” on them, while she did know safer, though not safe, ways of using a giant explosion.

  Mei loaded Detonate.

  “Two.”

  She stepped onto the top of the roof.

  “There she is!”

  She took aim.

  “Damning fountains, she’s firing,” shouted the unnamed Green Cloak. “Take cover!”

  Mei pulled the trigger, launching the black canister over the heads of the monks and the Green Cloaks and her friends and into the muddy path behind them.

  Delma grinned up at Mei. “You missed!” She turned to a monk. “Now, go-”

  An explosion tore a crater into the path, filling the air with mud, leaves and gravel. As her opponents scrambled to get their bearings, Mei dashed across the roof, leapt off it, hit the ground, rolled to her feet, and charged in. She knew where her friends were, she’d had two glances after all, and she knew which one of them would make the most of the distraction. Vaulting over a stunned monk, Mei reached her target, swept the beads off their forehead, and threw the gaudy things into the forest.

  “Qemilo!”

  A blast of wind ripped away Mei’s cover, and three very angry monks leveled their spears.

  “That was stupid.” Delma raised her hand.

  “Was it? Qesueut!”

  A wall of earth raised between Mei and Delma.

  “Good to see you, Mei.” Saundra broke out of the wall, her grin made too bright by mud. “Shall we deal with this mess?”

  Mei grinned. “Yes, we shall.”

  They charged the stunned monks.