Lapis looked at Patch; he raised his eyebrow, then quirked a smile before kissing the side of her head. She glanced back at the mercs clustered around a large transmitter in the middle of the small windowless room, some fighting tears as they spoke to Kayleb. Static reigned, but they understood one another, and the relief warmed the room as much as the bodies sitting there.

“He’s still an ass,” she grumbled. Just because there was genuine care between them did not mean the Black Hats were a redeemable merc company. Her partner chuckled and held her close as Lorcan peeked in, waved at Caitria, who made the connection through tech ingenuity and remained at the device, keeping it active, and jerked his head at them.

They followed him down a hall decorated with bland farm-related watercolors and past the humongous, furniture-free commons room opposite the tiled entry. Inside, shanks huddled near the merrily flickering fire, wrapped in their sleeping blankets and sighing as hot mugs of tea and a sizzling breakfast warmed their insides. Two mercs remained with their unit’s equipment, eyeing the oblivious untrustworthy while they enjoyed their meal.

The Beryl agent sat apart from his fellows, tense and suspicious, but he likely hated the fact Patch took his gauntlet and, irritated at his vigorous protest, sent the thing up in flames. He whitened when he realized how easily he could have burnt himself to a crisp and resented her partner destroying it in front of unimpressed farmers, laughing mercs and mouthy shanks.

Farmers. The tech-savvy families that lived in the farmhouse did not strike her as workers of the land, just as the farmhouse did not strike her as a farmhouse. The stone structure reminded her of a two-story Jiy mansion in the Grey Streets, rather than one designed for rural cultivators. Despite the size, the décor had a homey feel, with soft browns interspersed with bright yellow curtains and sky-blue tablecloths and furniture. Everything that could be, was tech, too; appliances, restrooms, communications, lights. They even had central heating, though Caitria said they relied more on the fireplaces because heating took so much energy.

Not that they lacked it. Not only did they have a field filled with panels that sucked up sun energy, but they also had windmills that produced electricity that fed blocky batteries stuffed inside a house-sized shed. The combination not only powered the entire farm, but the extra went to Ragehill.

Abastion was a much different place than Jilvayna.

Lorcan led them to the left backside of the mansion, which faced the expanse of snow-blanketed fields, scattered silos and sheds, and the cattle enclosure. The low rumble of cows filtered through the walls, broken only by the shrill clucks of chickens. He opened a door to a meeting room with a rectangular rustic table, several chairs, and a wide window that let light and cold inside.

“When I sent you all out, I never anticipated this,” Lorcan said as he flumped into a chair. Patch closed the door and sat next to Lapis as she made herself comfortable in a plaid-padded seat.

“Shanks and mercs and khentauree, my my,” she murmured before blowing on her fingers to warm them.

“You’ve definitely brought the surprises with you.” The rebel chuckled and stretched. “I’m having my people look through our oldest records. We didn’t know those tunnels existed, and from what Vory said, they’re still full of crates. Very odd, considering our ancestors looted everything Taangis left behind.” He sank back and stared out the window, which held too much fog to see anything other than the bright blue morning sky. “The other teams found what we expected. Every known tunnel entrance into the Shivers is buried. All the vehicles and craft the intruders brought are sitting under snow without any prep, and I doubt they’re going to function until spring, if then.”

“What about the khentauree? Do they know of any other entrances?”

“I don’t know. Sanna and Chiddle are trying to convince Luthier to trust them, but she’s refusing. Don’t know why. They need help for their people, and she’s acting like we’re as evil as the ones who invaded the Shivers.”

“Humans didn’t treat the mine khentauree well,” Lapis said. “They have memories of terrible conditions and abuse.”

“Sanna says the other four are antsy and upset, but they won’t go against Luthier’s will. I’m not sure what she plans to do, though; they aren’t going to function long in the cold if a pre-blizzard chill shut them down, so rescuing their people on their own is out.”

“So we might be stuck hoping those new tunnels intersect the Shivers,” Patch said.

“Yeah. Our people reported there are more corridors off the room where the mercs camped, so it’s plausible.”

“Any idea what company the flying bird might represent?”

Lorcan shook his head. “No, and that’s also odd. We have paperwork from the companies and contractors working in the area when Taangis vacated, and none of them had that logo. I asked our historians, and no one remembers reading about those tunnels or recalls any mentions of a business that might have used them. It could be they were military, but one would think Ragehill would have info on another nearby complex and, well, the flying bird wasn’t a military symbol.”

Lapis had the feeling the khentauree knew, but without trust, they would gain no info following that route.

A sharp knock and Vory opened the door, Lieutenant Yordan with her. Lorcan motioned to a chair, and he took a seat while the rebel closed the door and stood at attention next to it.

“Commander Kayleb asked us to help in any way we can,” he said, clasping his hands before him on the table. “We’re not in top shape, but I have information.”

“Whatcha got?” Patch asked, slumping further down in his chair and planting his boot on the table edge.

“Not that Requet shared, but we overheard things.” Yordan stared at his fingers, which tightened in response to some inner reflection. “He owes money to someone with enough influence and wealth, he fears them. I have the impression this person isn’t from Theyndora but Pelthine, and might be Taangin. They hooked him up with Hoyt, who was supposed to infiltrate the markweza’s group and steal the research, but Hoyt saw aquatheerdaal and got greedy. Instead of stealing research that his shanks had no prayer of retrieving because they’re tech-dense, they made some sort of pact with the markweza and started to mine.

“Requet was furious, but he had no way to convince Hoyt to follow orders. Whoever hooked him up with Hoyt was mad, too. I don’t know what they expected of a low-brow shank. They thought they’d send an assassin after him, but they couldn’t find Danaea. She did a lot of errands for Requet, long before the skyshroud docked in Jiy. I don’t know how they first met, but they had mutually beneficial agreements.

“Or so he thought. He discovered Danaea had a lot of blackmail on him. Since he couldn’t find her, he wanted those documents. He didn’t trust Hoyt, so kidnapped a Jilvaynan rebel, hoping to force them to retrieve the info in return for her life. I don’t know why he thought that would work.”

“Requet doesn’t have a brain,” Patch offered.

Midir hated Requet, and Requet hated Midir. That he sought to use the Jilvaynan heir and his rebel allies to realize something as sordid as recovering blackmail material proved he did not understand the man, nor that his father’s wealth and standing had no sway over anyone with a glimmer of morals.

Yordan sucked in a breath. “He does make terrible decisions. But he and the woman . . . get along well. I don’t think she’ll be going back to the Jilvaynan rebellion.”

Requet and Vivina? Lapis rubbed at her eyes, annoyed and disgusted at the unwanted picture that popped into her brain. Baldur would have his link to a wealthy Dentherion family, without even trying to cajole one through illicit trade. Lucky ass.

“Since that failed, the person he owed money to sent someone to retrieve the info, but they couldn’t find her partners, and then they screwed up and captured one of Hoyt’s men rather than the shank who probably knew where her stash was. He disappeared, too.”

Lapis glanced at Patch, who did not react. Good on Granna Cup, telling those unfamiliar bully boys Siward was Dagby. She hoped all parties had a lot of fun discovering the error.

“I don’t know why the markweza contacted the skyshroud for aid when things at the mines deteriorated, but Requet sent a local Jiy contact to rescue him. He was upset about his personal guard captain getting airs and kidnapping his scientists and screamed about betrayal and how his family would pay to see the man dead. Requet made a deal to help him. That’s why we got sent to this god-forsaken place.”

He cleared his throat, as if realizing he insulted the people who rescued him and his men. Lapis refused to smooth over the insult, though, by Lorcan’s amusement, he enjoyed the discomfort.

“They know Bov Caardinva came to Abastion, and they think he went to the Shivers Mine to search for more of Gedaavik’s research. There’s some specific info the scientists are looking for, something about the special khentauree, and they’re not sure where he put those research notes, or if they even still exist. The markweza has a list of places where Gedaavik worked with khentauree, and Shivers was next—and he assumed that Bov Caardinva would go there as well.”

“What other places are on the list?” Patch asked.

“I only know they sent Black Hats to Clevenbak in Veldan and Zaster here in Abastion. Donin,” and he said the name with such pure hate a shiver raced up Lapis’s spine, “sent a unit to Caryona in Ramira.”

Patch chuckled and Yordan cast him a slicing look. “I don’t even have to guess how that turned out.”

The lieutenant lifted his lip. Lapis could see the question in Lorcan’s eyes, but they would wait to tell him. Caryona was a Ramiran rebel base, and considering the Black Hats shot at their beloved Jarosa, she doubted they received a warm welcome. Luckily, they could ask the veritiate deathknell about any info relating to Taangin businesses or research entities that Gedaavik might have worked with, and get a timely response from her people.

“Are you in contact with those other Black Hats?” Lapis asked.

“Our comms don’t have the range,” he said. “But none of us left on the skyshroud are happy about Requet deserting Commander Kayleb and the rest of our men. If you can use your communications equipment to contact them on our channels, they’ll ditch their assignment. Kayleb said we can work as security at Ambercaast.” He nodded to himself. “After this fiasco, that sounds good. A stable job, no delusional jackass sending us into dire situations without proper prep and equipment.”

She refrained from pointing out that described Kayleb. “Caitria should be able to help with that. We’ll need you or one of your men to be around once we make contact. They’ll trust you more than us.”

He nodded. “We’ll stay here?”

“For the time being,” Lorcan said. “We don’t have much interaction with the outside world during the snowy parts of the year. We’ll see what we can do to get you to Ambercaast, but it might be several days.”

He pressed his lips together. “And the shanks?”

“Why do you ask?”

“One of them. He’s . . . he’s an assassin.”

Lapis raised an eyebrow as Patch shrugged. “The Beryl agent? Yeah.”

Yordan’s surprise amused her. He obviously had no idea who Patch was, to assume him ignorant about the identities of the deadliest people working in Jiy.

“Do you know why he’s here?” Lapis asked.

He shook his head, his fingers tightened, and he tapped the lower knuckles against the table. “No. He was with a group of Beryl syndicate people who met with Requet on the skyshroud after the Minq snuck on board and took out one of the Dentherions. He wanted revenge, and they laughed in his face because he skimped on the payout. They told him the Minq weren’t guttershanks.”

“He knows that,” Patch said. “He knows who Jo Ban is and what would happen if he tangled with Shara.”

His father could not buy him out of that trouble.

“The shanks are street scum. But that Beryl. He’s important in his organization.”

“So we should sequester him.” Lorcan nodded. “Have you had breakfast? Get something in you. Your last couple of days weren’t easy.”

Yordan smiled at the dismissal. “Thank you, I’ll see to it. We appreciate the generosity.”

Lorcan chuckled. “Don’t thank me yet. Hovan might have you feeding cattle and shoveling snow.”

“It will give us something to do,” the Black Hat said, rising.

Lapis watched him go, concern trickling through her chest. What were they going to do about the Beryl agent?

Nothing, apparently.

The Abastions still played up the farmer aspect, and the guttershanks had no reason to believe anything else. So, in keeping with a helpful rural resident, Lorcan offered to take the lot to Calderton. The shanks’ enthusiastic relief that Lapis and Patch did not want their heads bounced around the commons room. The Beryl agent glared at his faithless companions, which they ignored; freezing to death on a mountain slope for Hoyt’s pleasure held no appeal. She almost offered to return the man to the place they found him, if he so eagerly wished to combat the icy conditions without proper attire. In the spring, Hoyt could dig him out of whichever melting snowbank welcomed his corpse.

With profuse thanks, the shanks clambered onboard the flatbed. They thought it odd the Black Hats did not join them, but other than the Beryl agent, they did not care past an initial question. Armed Abastions joined them, which, funnily enough, they took to mean the way was dangerous and the locals would protect them from more giant creature attacks, like the one the Black Hats told them about.

She would have laughed if reservations about the Beryl had not coursed through her. Even if the shanks blurted their presence to Hoyt, the Beryl was the one who would act on any commands the underboss issued—and he would know how to get back to the farm. They could not hide the ski vehicle’s tracks.

She folded her arms and leaned against a column as the group pulled away, sour and despondent, then glanced at her partner, wanting to say something. His attention, though, focused on the largest of the five brown barns that sat in a row next to the vast fields that spanned away from the farmhouse.

“What’s up?”

He jerked his chin, and she reluctantly followed him, clomping down the narrow, trampled pathway leading to the barn. The wind picked up, pelting them with stinging bits of snow powder. She pulled her coat collar up higher, wishing she had grabbed her scarf before shuffling outside and glaring at the departing shanks. She hated breathing cold air.

The building was shut tight, though the soft sounds of horses wafted through the wooden walls. Her partner did not enter, but stomped a fresh path around the left side, and headed towards the back and the fenced duck pond.

Lapis froze. A tech bird like the one Vory shot hovered over the frozen water, orange lights blinking along its side. Patch continued; she hissed and rushed to catch him, fear numbing her brain. What was he thinking? He needed to take it out!

He held up his hand and stopped. “That’s an emergency signal,” he said in a low tone.

“How do you know that?”

“It’s used by Dentherion military.”

She sucked in a sharp breath, nearly coughing on the cold air striking the back of her throat.

“But I don’t think this bird’s Dentherion.”

“I think you’re right.”

Lapis jumped and Lorcan placed a hand on her shoulder, not contrite for nearly scaring her into her grave. “Do you need help?” he called.

The flashing stopped. Then another series began, accompanied by short and long beeps.

“I can’t read that,” Patch said. “Lanth, go get Caitria. This is something I think she can translate with her gear.”

Lapis rushed to find the woman, then wavered between fear and laughter, watching her stand before the hovering tech bird as she, letter by letter, garnered what the thing had to say. More Abastions surrounded them, some with weapons, most suspicious.

A couple needed to break the ice on the duck pond, for the insistent birds squawked and hissed and stamped on the frozen water, an unwelcome distraction from the danger. She envied the ducks, who happily quieted down after they dipped their feet into the cold liquid, unconcerned about the big black object blighting their space.

“Alright,” Caitria sighed. “If I get this right, blink once, if I get this wrong, blink twice. So it looks like this bird is from the Shivers. The people inside are snowed in, they lack supplies, and this person wants out.”

The bird blinked once.

“Great. How did you fly the bird out of the mines?”

The lights flashed, the thing beeped, and Caitria dutifully copied the letters corresponding to the length. A cumbersome way to communicate, but it worked.

“They sent out the birds to scan the mountainside when they first arrived. They didn’t anticipate the blizzard, and they lost most of the birds to the conditions, but a couple survived. They’re using them to find someone to help them. They saw the fields and hoped they belonged to an extant farm.”

“You don’t have equipment to dig yourselves out, do you?” Lorcan asked.

“No, they don’t,” Caitria said after another series of flashes.

“Who are you?” Lapis asked.

“Bellegara Reeven, a microtechnologist graduate student from Levaant Research Institute in Meergevenis.”

Lorcan looked skeptical, so Lapis cleared her throat to catch his attention, then leaned close so he could hear her whisper. “Cassa had said that the markweza used graduate students to flesh out his scientific teams, and that she wrote recommendations for those left at the Ambercaast mines because otherwise, their degrees were in jeopardy. It’s not a stretch that when Bov Caardinva kidnapped the lead scientist, he took graduate helpers as well.”

“What do you want to do, Dad?” Caitria asked.

He rubbed his mouth. “Go against my better judgment,” he murmured. “OK.” He smacked his hands together and looked at the bird. “We’re going to take this bird into the farmhouse and put it in a warmer room so there’s less chance it dies before we get to you. We have more questions, especially since we saw an armed force show up at the Shivers and we’re not keen on getting shot trying to help. We have equipment to dig you out, but it will take time to get it organized.” He sucked in a huge breath and winced as the cold sifted into his lungs. “How free are you to keep us informed?”

The lights flashed and Caitria half-laughed. “They’re not.”

“Alright. We’ll get the bird inside and continue from there. We’ll help, but I want straight answers about the danger we might face from your people.”

Lapis thought it a terrible idea, but she understood the need to aid someone in trouble. The Abastions had no qualms about going after and rescuing the Black Hats and the shanks, despite potential harm. Good people, the lot of them, and she hoped to the non-existent gods their generosity did not turn and bite them all.