Archive of Our Own

 “Alright, prepare your eyes to be dazzled by my brilliance!” 

Yuri opened his eyes. One hadn’t been closed all the way, only narrowed to a slit, because he wasn’t born yesterday. Constance had been fiddling over breakfast for a couple minutes now, waving her hands around and tracing out glyphs. The toast was probably cold. 

Hapi, perched beside him on the edge of one of the classroom’s old desks, also opened her eyes. Her face immediately fell. 

“It’s still toast?” Hapi said apologetically. “Sorry, Coco.” 

“No! Look more keenly, friends!” Constance urged them with a delighted clap of her hands. “This is no ordinary toast. As you can see, the jam is now…” 

“Green,” Yuri filled in dryly. “You made green jam.” 

Constance beamed at them. Hapi raised an eyebrow at the substance now slathered across the bread. Yuri was inclined to agree with her skepticism. It wasn’t… dissimilar to mold. Possibly algae. 

“Well, Constance, I’m impressed,” Yuri nodded, crossing his legs. “The Empire will surely restore your family’s title now that you can provide them with green jam.” 

“Oh, really? You think—” Constance began but then her suspicion caught up to her ego. “You know, it can be applied to things other than jam. Think, Yuri, of what color I could change to green next!” 

“Ah, so it only works with green?” Hapi winced. Constance shot her a very dirty look. 

“If I had the relic of my house, I could do plenty more than this,” she glowered, looking accusingly at the fetters on Yuri’s left hand. “When I get the Brísingamen back, the Empire will have no choice but to restore House Nuvelle to glory!” 

Balthus arrived in the old classroom, smelling like he was sweating out a pint of ale. He grabbed the toast without seeming to note the verdant preserves and shoved it into his mouth, groaning with something between contentment and the unsettled discomfort of a hangover. Constance very slowly clenched her fists. 

“This all the toast we got?” Balthus announced after a gulping swallow. “I’m famished.” 

“Pallardó is being difficult again,” Yuri sighed. “Have my slice. I’ve got work to do.” 

He slid out of his chair and left the other three to fight over the remainder of the bread. It had been four years of war now, and Abyss’ supplies were hanging by a thread. When Garreg Mach was a fat, rich bastion of the church, plenty of crumbs could fall down into the cracks, but now that it was a decaying husk playing host to a rival gang of bandits, times were tough. 

Thieves always said that war was profitable, Yuri thought with a bitter smile as he picked his way along the tunnel and over the trickle of water still flowing through the grates. Well, war was profitable if you were intending to rob poor farmers of their last chance at survival, but Yuri was finding it distinctly unprofitable for his usual business. 

There were too many Adrestian soldiers where the real money was kept and too few harvests not left unburnt in the fields. People down here were getting hungry, which meant they were either getting desperate or they were getting sick. Yuri found his own gang getting pushed into increasingly bad jobs, where the pay was low and the risks were high. Smuggling for the Empire meant paying a fortune in bribes, and smuggling for the Kingdom or the Alliance was nearly suicide if you were caught. 

As for trading in secrets, that wellspring of wealth had dried up completely without the church. He had a few strings he could tug on in Enbarr and Fhirdiad, maybe one or two in Derdriu, but war meant that spying had become a serious game and his information was always a few weeks out of date by the time he could secure it. 

Yuri climbed the stairs and glanced back over the street. The shops were empty and the merchants sat idle, polishing a few blades so rusted that cleaning them might nearly wear through them. There was a cluster of kids around the shrine, but they weren’t playing, just sitting in a circle quietly, like they were praying. He could hear someone coughing, probably Maggie again. She’d always had a weak chest. 

He turned away sharply. His feet carried him up to the library, but the sound of Abyss’ misery echoed off of the stones even there. 

—

“We have a job,” Yuri announced, carefully checking the tunnel outside before he bolted the door shut. 

No meeting in the old classroom today. He had scouted out an unused cistern for this, just to ensure that no one would be listening. The stone here was covered in moss and lichen and a few mushrooms sprouting through the gaps. It smelled musty, the odor of decaying plantlife and rat droppings. 

“A job for all of us?” Balthus asked, sounding surprised. “Sounds like you’re going after something that doesn’t just involve roughing up a few local scumbags. Or are we going to hustle another fighting ring?” 

“Way better than hustling a fighting ring,” Yuri smirked. “So big, in fact, that if we can pull this off, none of you will have to worry about coin for the next year. Except for you, Balthus. But you should always worry a little more about your purse.” 

“You’re right,” Balthus conceded. “I’m in.” 

“Yuri, you cannot seriously expect us all to join in on a venture of this nature,” Constance immediately objected. “I am the future head of House Nuvelle. If it were revealed that I had disgraced my name in some form of petty thievery—” 

“Watch it, Shady Lady,” Yuri warned her. “Or you’ll get me feeling so petty that I steal from you next.” 

“A big job in the middle of a war, Yuri?” Hapi interrupted. She was also frowning, which was more concerning. 

Yuri was fairly certain he could convince Balthus to dance naked in a Fhirdiad ice storm for the right amount of gold and liquor, and Constance would come around fast with the right leverage, but Hapi was the wildcard. She could be stubborn, too, which was tricky to handle. 

“It’s not going to put us in the Empire’s line of fire, don’t worry,” Yuri said. “In fact, if everything goes right, no one will even suspect that we were involved.” 

“I don’t like it,” Hapi shook her head and Yuri groaned inwardly. “The world is dangerous right now. I know we’d all like some extra money, but I’d rather not risk my life for some stuffy nobleman who wants a fancy painting or something.” 

“It isn’t a painting,” Yuri said. 

“I’m kinda with Hapi, actually,” Balthus said, suddenly flipping. “Who’s the client, boss? Some Adrestian minister? One of those frilly types from Gloucester trying to play both sides?” 

“The client…” Yuri paused delicately before he flicked his eyes over, “is our very own Constance von Nuvelle.” 

Constance’s face twisted into a look of pure confusion, but Yuri left her no time to object or ask any more questions. Instead, he snapped open a book and held it out for the others to examine.

“I present to you the necklace Brísingamen. It is currently held by the Western Church, who have been calling it Saint Indech’s Collar rather erroneously. The Brísingamen is, in fact, the only known relic of the Apostle Noa, and it was only transferred into the church’s care after the fall of House Nuvelle,” Yuri gestured down to the illustration. 

It was an old sketch he’d managed to obtain depicting a gorgeous bejeweled necklace, seemingly made of ivory inlaid with rubies as red as the Noa fruit with whom it shared an etymology. 

“The Brísingamen won’t just fetch a pretty price, though,” Yuri continued. “In the hands of someone bearing the hitherto forgotten Crest of Noa, it is reputed to increase healing ability by tenfold. Constance, I present to you the salvation of House Nuvelle.” 

Constance’s eyes had gone wide, but her mouth was quickly curling into a smile verging on the hysterical. Balthus frowned and then nodded, looking impressed. 

“Alright,” he said. “I’m back in.” 

“I’m not,” Hapi objected stubbornly. Of course she would only dig her heels in. “How are we getting it out of the Western Church’s vaults? I’m assuming you can’t just pick the lock.” 

“I can pick any lock,” Yuri objected. “But in this case, we’re going to need a slightly more sophisticated extraction method. The Western Church keeps most of its treasures in the Arundel Cathedral, but recent border skirmishes with Faerghus resistance fighters have made the bishops nervous. All of the relics are now being kept in Arundel Castle’s own keep, a fortress so secure that it also houses most of the Empire’s funds for the western front armies.” 

“Sorry, pal,” Balthus shook his head. “I’m out again.” 

“Why not use magic?” Constance suggested and then rubbed her hands together gleefully. “Very few castle walls, no matter how thick, can stand up to spells which warp us right through them.” 

“Magic is out,” Yuri shook his head. Balthus got a look of excitement in his eyes and opened his mouth, but Yuri kept talking. “The entire place is warded against warp magic. And Balthus, before you even say it, smashing our way in and grabbing what we want isn’t an option either. The vault is guarded by golems that could grind all of us into a paste before we got a shot off.” 

Balthus looked crestfallen and then closed his mouth. 

“So how do we get in, then?” Hapi asked. “You clearly have an idea, otherwise you wouldn’t be asking us to help.” 

“Ah, so it’s we now,” Yuri said, feeling very smug. “Have I finally piqued your interest, Hapi?” 

“Explain first,” Hapi rolled her eyes. “Then I’ll decide if I think it’s stupid.” 

“Lord Arundel is hosting a gala next moon to raise money for the war effort. It will be a lavish affair, full of rich Adrestians all vying to appear the most patriotic. I’ve got a contact willing to procure a pair of invitations. She, uh, let’s just say she has the right connections, but doesn’t get out much.” 

Yuri winked and then turned to point at Balthus and Constance.

“Balthus, you will be posing as a dissolute bastard son of a wealthy merchant specializing in Amyran imports. Constance, you will simply be yourself, accompanied by an adorable piece of arm candy.” 

Constance stared at him and then tilted her head. She looked down at her own forearm pensively and licked her lips. 

“That would be me,” Yuri continued, clenching his teeth a little tighter. “Anyways, we all go in, arrange to have the security system turned off, Constance and I warp in and grab the necklace, and we’re out. Any questions?” 

“How exactly does one arrange to have a security system turned off?” Constance asked, raising her hand as though she was back in a Garreg Mach lecture. “I’m assuming the device that wards the vault against magic is itself magical in nature? Such a thing wouldn’t be beyond my skill, assuming that I had several, um, months to study it.” 

“I have a much easier solution,” Yuri said. “We get Arundel to turn it off himself.” 

“He probably won’t agree to that,” Balthus scoffed. 

“Well, I’ll ask nicely,” Yuri smirked, then dropped the smile. “And I’ll convince him that the vault is already compromised. Can’t have golems smashing into his own soldiers when they go in to stop a burglary in progress.” 

Balthus nodded sagely, then grinned and nodded faster. 

“What about me?” Hapi interrupted. 

“You’re the getaway driver,” Yuri said, snapping the book closed and putting it back in his satchel. “Can’t risk you setting loose a monster in the middle of a castle.” 

“Monsters could be useful,” Hapi scoffed defensively. 

“I thought the job was too risky, anyways,” Yuri retorted. 

“It is!” Hapi shouted back. 

“Guys, guys,” Balthus held up his hands. “No more bickering. It’s making me thirsty.” 

“Bickering makes you thirsty?” Constance muttered. 

“Everything makes me thirsty.” 

Yuri squeezed the bridge of his nose. He needed Hapi on his side before he could even risk telling them the rest of the details. 

But she was right. The job was probably too risky and the rewards might be a long time coming seeing as Constance couldn’t exactly go waltzing back to the empire with a recently stolen relic and ask for her title restored. 

“Look, I know this doesn’t sound easy,” Yuri conceded. “It might seem like the danger outweighs the benefits. But think of what we could do with the power of a relic. Half of the people in Abyss right now are sick or wounded or both. The Brísingamen could heal them. And more than that, this is Constance’s family relic. The Western Church stole it first and the Empire shouldn’t be keeping it from her. It’s the right thing to do. I might not give a damn about restoring House Nuvelle, but I do give a damn about Constance.” 

Yuri paused, glancing around to see their reactions. Constance had gotten a little misty around the eyes. Balthus was nodding. And Hapi was… softening. 

“We’re a pack, right?” Yuri asked. “That’s what we promised. Your problems are my problems now. No one is on their own, fighting their own battle. We have each other’s backs, even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard.” 

“Wolf pack,” Balthus grinned. “Till I die, boss. I’m back in. Let’s get Constance her Bristin— her Burstinga— her necklace!” 

“You know that I am prepared to do whatever it takes,” Constance nodded. “And I will repay your kindness one day, I hope, perhaps with a medal or a commemorative plaque!” 

“I’m expecting a country estate, but continue,” Yuri said with a smile. “Hapi?” 

Hapi screwed up her face. She seemed to resist the urge to sigh long and hard. Finally, she nodded. 

“Your problems are my problems,” she agreed. “I’m in, Yuri-bird. What do we do?” 

Yuri restrained his smile so that she wouldn’t know how hard he was preening internally. This conversation was going better than he had expected. 

“Alright,” Yuri said, “here’s the plan…” 

—

Arundel castle was hung with red and gold on the night of the party. It was the empire’s founding day, a mild and lovely night on the first of the Great Tree Moon, and the city was full. All of the best houses had been booked by Adrestia’s wealthiest merchants, minor lords, and glamorous beauties, and all of the more modest were flooded with their attendants, dressmakers, coachmen, and stewards. They were staying in a boarding house a few levels below modest, crammed into a single second floor room above a livery. 

Anyone with deep enough pockets to fund a war was invited to the gala, although Yuri’s informants had checked that none of the truly great houses would be present. Ferdinand von Aegir and his ilk were probably too busy leading troops to bother with an event like this, which meant no inconvenient old school chums would be around to recognize them. 

“Are you sure about this, boss?” Balthus asked, turning around a few times in front of the mirror. “It’s constricting my chest too much. If a fight breaks out, what am I supposed to do? Unbutton a few more of these, though, and…” 

“The buttons are fine where they are,” Yuri said, slapping Balthus’ hand away from the shirt. He’d paid thirty gold to get silk and Balthus was already trying to flex his way out of it. 

“I just wish it were pink,” Constance sighed, twirling her gown in her hands. It was a rich turquoise chiffon, gauzy and light for a warm spring night. One of her gloved hands reached up to caress her heavy necklace, dripping with emerald green, although it was only cut glass rather than gemstone. “Cool colors do nothing for my complexion.” 

“Any other complaints?” Yuri asked, sweeping a dusty rose powder over his eyelids before beginning to blend the creases. He was wearing light grey, a muted color to contrast with the somewhat ostentatious cut of his skirt. It had felt like the right amount of leg for Arundel when he’d bought it. Was it too much leg for Arundel?

Behind him on the table of their inconspicuous rented room was the floorplan of Arundel castle. He’d bought it off of a former maid and had since covered it in his approximate calculations of how long it would take a person to walk from one room to another. And, of course, it was important to know exactly where the vault was, and how he could get as close to it as possible without attracting any attention. He rolled the map up carefully, and then reluctantly tossed it into the fire so that they could leave behind as little evidence as possible. 

“Carriage is ready!” Hapi called up the stairs to them. At least she was managing to wear the uniform he had picked out for her, although it was the relatively simple coat and trousers of an unassuming driver. 

“You remember everything I told you to do?” Yuri asked for the fourth or fifth time. 

“Bet big, play sloppy,” Balthus said with a nod. “Shouldn’t be too hard.” 

“And?” Yuri prodded him. 

“And have fun?” Balthus added with a shrug.  

“And don’t actually drink anything,” Yuri said, flicking him in the forehead. “Constance?” 

“The spell is ready,” she affirmed. “As soon as Balthus gives the signal, I’ll excuse myself to go to the powder room and wait for you.” 

Hapi was waiting downstairs with the carriage pulled around to the corner of the street, braiding the horse's mane in her boredom. Yuri caught her eye and she gave him a reluctant smile. His hands unclenched slightly. They were ready. As long as everything went the way he expected it to, this was possible. 

It had to be possible. 

“You’re sure no one's gonna recognize you?” Hapi asked, taking in the finery bedecking all of them. Balthus was fiddling with his cravat again. Yuri tugged his hand away from it. 

“No one will recognize Balthus, he’s covered his most recognizable feature.” Yuri said, gesturing to the shirt hiding the rippling muscle of Balthus’ stomach. “If they recognize Constance, that’s not an issue. She actually is an Adrestian noblewoman. And I’m rather hoping someone will recognize me. Lord Arundel in particular, I believe, might be somewhat familiar with my singing voice.” 

“I never realized that you performed for a man of such high station,” Constance said, blinking in genuine admiration. Yuri tried to smile back without any signs of resentment. 

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he retorted. “Just don’t be surprised if a few of those men ask you about someone named Teodor.” 

They piled into the carriage and it lurched forward. Hapi had a bit of a knack with horses, but she drove without much consideration for the people who had to bump around on wheels behind her. It wouldn’t be a long journey, though. The main road ought to deposit them in front of the castle in only a few minutes. He felt his heart rate already beginning to climb, which wasn’t a good sign. 

He had done this hundreds of times before. He probably had more experience with the nobility than even Constance, who had been left at home in her nursery for the balls and galas of her upbringing. And yet, he was the only one whose pulse seemed to be racing. 

It just had to go right. He had no backup if this didn’t work, but if something started to go wrong, he would have to pull them out. Foolishly, he found himself missing that damned professor from the Officers Academy. When he’d gotten backed further into a corner than he’d ever been before, the professor had been the one to take the leap and help, without really even being asked. 

But the professor was dead, their bones lying broken in some ravine of the Oghma mountains. Just like so many of the others from those days. The war was eating the continent from bottom up. And, like rats aboard a sinking ship, Yuri only had so far left to run. 

As he felt the carriage turning, Yuri finally handed the heavy leather purse over to Balthus. He accepted it with gleeful awe, weighing the coins with his hands as they clinked together. 

“Thanks boss,” he said with a grin. “This is gonna be fun, even if I don’t get to hit anyone.” 

“Start with Three Wyvern Turn,” Yuri told him before they got out. “You never win at Three Wyvern Turn.” 

The carriage stopped and Balthus hopped out on the side away from the gates. Constance waited until Hapi appeared to dutifully, if somewhat sarcastically, help her down from the carriage. Yuri accompanied her, taking in the open gates of the castle keep before them. 

It seemed unbelievable that they would be open right now, with Faerghus’ armies only a day’s march away in Arianrhod, and yet they were. The heavy iron grate was up and the bridge was down. The servants had even strung glowing arcane lights in the trees, just to make sure that the gold would gleam on the guests as they entered. 

But the openness was partially an illusion. Yuri saw guards lining the walls above and a few more soldiers watching the door. A young man with a decorative sword at his hip was handing it over before he entered, although he was protesting fiercely. 

Yuri took Constance’s elbow and they stepped forward to present their invitation, following a portly coffee-trader wearing a mink collar despite the warm evening. 

“Lady Constance von Nuvelle,” the herald announced, “and her companion.” 

Constance gave a glowing smile and walked through the gates. Inside, the courtyard was decorated, tables draped in red and gold set up for guests needing a moment in the evening air. The stairs up into the great hall of the castle were scattered with spring flower petals and inside Yuri could hear the roar of laughter, the tinkle of glass, the low music of a viol. 

From over his shoulder, Yuri heard the herald announce Mister Baldric Kaufmann, which meant that Balthus was through as well. The soldiers at the door seemed to pay them no attention. Yuri wasn’t really wearing enough to conceal a weapon.  

The inside of the great hall of Arundel palace was filled with red. A massive tapestry of the Hresvelg eagle was hung behind the banquet table, looming over the party to remind the guests of their purpose. 

“This is…” Constance murmured, her eyes taking in the ruddy banners draped from every surface of the long hall, “a little garish, I should say.” 

“It's a benefit for the war,” Yuri said tightly. “Why shouldn’t they remind us of the blood already spilled?” 

“It reminds me of the parades in Enbarr after Dagda’s surrender,” Constance said, unconsciously gripping his arm a little tighter. “Everything was so red. People were cheering because we had won, even though for me, all had been lost.” 

“Keep your smile on, Constance,” Yuri whispered to her as a servant approached them with a tray of champagne flutes. “No sunlight in here, remember?” 

Constance sipped a drink and then slowly released the pressure on his arm. 

“Constance von Nuvelle?” a young woman’s voice addressed them. “I hadn’t expected to see you here. Why, you haven’t been at the season in Enbarr for years!” 

They both turned to see a prettily dressed young lady with her hair done up into a tight crown interwoven with red rosebuds. She was smiling, but the style of her hair pulled the skin of her face so tight that it looked faintly sinister. 

“Dulcinea von Graf,” Constance said, immediately recognizing the woman and curtseying perfectly. “How wonderful to see you here, supporting our emperor at this vital stage of the war. It has been too long by far!” 

“I had heard of your family’s troubles, and I was most sorry,” Dulcinea simpered with an affected frown. “It is a relief to see that you are still well, or, well enough to lend your aid to our heroic troops in the summer’s push against Faerghus. And who is this?” 

“Ah! Yes, my companion,” Constance said, laughing nervously as Yuri stepped forward to immediately kiss the young woman’s hand. 

“Eurion Sauvage,” Yuri introduced himself with a grin. “It is a pleasure to meet you.” 

Dulcinea giggled and then fumbled for a moment to regain her composure. 

“Charmed,” she replied. “I am unfamiliar with the Sauvage family, sir, I apologize.” 

“Eurion is a performer, actually,” Constance said, leaning forward conspiratorially. “From the Mittelfrank Opera.” 

Dulcinea’s eyes, already pulled wide open by the pressure of her hairdo, seemed to expand even further. Yuri caught her eye and winked, a little gesture, meant to make her feel that she had received some secret, special attention. This was working as he had expected. Before the end of the night, little Dulcinea von Graf would probably be whispering to everyone at the party about Constance’s rather scandalous young companion. 

Behind them, a loud thump turned a few heads. Yuri saw that Balthus had immediately made his way to the card tables, but something was wrong. Something was deeply wrong because a merchant in a velvet hat was banging his fist on the table as Balthus scooped a pile of coins over and into his purse. 

“Excuse me, darling,” Yuri said, quickly extricating himself from polite conversation. 

He picked his way through a few more little groups in rapt conversation until his path took him through the card tables. He lingered over the shoulder of Balthus’ opponent, pretending to fiddle with the gold band clasped around his wrist, until he finally caught Balthus' attention. 

Yuri gave him a tiny shake of the head. Balthus looked back and then shrugged, as if to say that he couldn’t help being lucky every now and then . Yuri rolled his eyes and then quickly drew a finger across his own throat. Balthus sighed miserably and then picked up his cards again. 

“What do you say we make things interesting?” Balthus’ voice boomed out above the others. “A rematch. Double or nothing. I’m feeling… lucky.” 

Yuri gave him one last murderous look to ensure that he knew what would happen if he won another round, and then circled over to the banquet table to pick out a plate of strawberries for Constance. 

“I know you, don’t I?” a man’s voice mused from behind him. It was a low voice, calm and dry and precise. At the same moment, Yuri felt fingers gently run through a lock of his hair, curiously examining it. 

He turned sharply to see a tall man in his mid-forties, impeccable in a crimson robe embroidered with gold. Yuri felt a chill run down his back as he subtly shifted away from the man’s hand. He recognized those eyes, pale violet and lined with thick dark lashes, so strange in an otherwise hard face. 

“Lord Arundel,” Yuri breathed, immediately bowing as deeply as he could. “Sir, I am at your service.” 

“Where have I seen you before?” Volkhard von Arundel mused, withdrawing his hand as though he had just done nothing but reach down to scratch the ears of a dog. “I don’t often forget a face.” 

“I am a performer, my lord,” Yuri said breathlessly. “At the opera in Enbarr. Many of the singers there spoke of your generous patronage of our art.” 

“Hmm,” Lord Arundel said mildly. “Perhaps that is it. You must have been an exemplary specimen of your rank if you caught my eye.” 

“Thank you, my lord,” Yuri said, bowing again. “I will hope to see you in the audience again, once this war is won. Enjoy your evening.” 

He took his leave quickly, weaving his way into the crowd to seek out Constance again. That had also gone well, he knew. The encounter was just believable enough to leave room for doubt and just suspicious enough to make Lord Arundel begin picking at it. 

Still, even if it was part of the plan, Yuri found the man unsettling. There was something so detached about him. Yuri was used to being desired, but Volkhard von Arundel’s stare made him feel more like a medical patient laid out on the dissection table of some renowned anatomist. 

He caught a glimpse of Constance’s blonde curls through the crowd and slid back to her side, offering the plate of fruit he’d managed to obtain. Constance turned and her eyes briefly flashed with panic before she replaced her smile. 

“Eurion, my dear,” she said, eating a berry and then quickly setting her plate down on a passing servant’s tray. “Why don’t we dance? This is… my favorite song.” 

The musicians were currently playing a somber, dignified waltz that had lured only a few of the elder couples out into the center of the ballroom. Yuri raised his eyebrows, but took Constance’s cue and led her out onto the floor. 

It only took them a moment of stumbling before they remembered the steps and then Constance immediately leaned in to whisper in his ear. 

“That woman over there,” she hissed frantically, “is a bounty hunter.” 

Yuri looked to where Constance was pointing him and spotted a tall Dagdan woman, looking irritable and overheated in tightly laced Adrestian finery. 

“How do you know?” he murmured back. 

“Some of the girls were gossiping about it,” Constance whispered. “Apparently Lord Arundel invited her as some sort of a reward for capturing a Faerghan saboteur. But, Yuri, I think she recognized Balthus.” 

“Damn it,” Yuri said through this smile, spinning Constance around and then dipping her as the song rose to a peak. “He’s worth at least a few thousand gold right now.” 

“She’s been staring at the back of his head,” Constance lamented. “What do we do?” 

“We handle it,” Yuri muttered grimly. “Come on.” 

The song ended with a smattering of clapping. Yuri quickly snatched a goblet of red wine from one of the tables, and wrapped his arm tightly around Constance’s waist as they left the dance floor. The bounty hunter ignored them. Her eyes were still fixed on the card tables and Yuri saw that she was reaching down to pull something out that was hidden within her bodice. 

Quickly, Yuri threw back his head in laughter and then stumbled, flinging the goblet of wine all over the bounty hunter’s skirt. She recoiled, but the damage was won. Starched white linen and Almyran damask, all of it splattered in dark red. 

“Oh, my darling, I’m so sorry,” Yuri exclaimed, in his most harmlessly foppish tone. “How clumsy of me!” 

“Please, let me apologize,” Constance declared, taking the hint. “I cannot let you go about the party like this all because my companion is too giddy from the waltz to keep his glass in his hand!” 

“It’s fine—” the woman started to say, looking vaguely disgusted as Constance began fussing over the stained front of her dress. 

“We can clean this right up,” Yuri nodded, firmly taking the woman’s arm and beginning to push her towards one of the subtly disguised servant’s entrances. 

“It’s really okay,” the bounty hunter protested. “This isn’t even mine.” 

“Well, we can’t have you return a borrowed garment in this condition!” Constance laughed, taking the woman’s other arm and also beginning to drag her towards the door. “I know a little spell that ought to clear this right up. A bit of soap and water, a little magic, and we’ll have you as perfectly lovely as you were before this oaf tripped over his own feet.” 

“Darling,” Yuri grinned at her dangerously. “It was an honest mistake. I was simply exhausted after you stepped all over my toes throughout that entire dance.” 

“Where are you—?” the woman tried to cut in, but Constance gave her no space. 

“My waltzing was impeccable,” she said, forcefully shouldering the bounty hunter through the side door and into a short corridor that seemed to lead to the preparation area for most of the food. “You were drunk, my dear, deplorably drunk for this early in the evening!” 

“Alright, let me go!” The bounty hunter was beginning to actually struggle now. Yuri gave her one final push so that they were safely around the corner behind a tower of croquembouche. 

“Drunk!” he cried, as though deeply offended. Then he threw back his head and barked out a short, derisive laugh. “Drunk? If I am drunk it is only because…” 

Damn. He hadn’t actually planned this far ahead. 

“Because you’re jealous of what I have with the Marquis!” Constance shrieked. “You could never measure up to his… um…” 

The bounty hunter had stopped struggling and was now looking between the two of them with an expression of deep confusion. 

“You and Vestra?” she asked, grimacing. 

“Yes,” Constance cried, clasping her hands over her breast and tossing her head back and forth. “Oh my sweet Hubert, that dark and sensual man of mystery! That cruel master of my heart!” 

Yuri thought that this had probably gone on long enough at this point. He dumped a selection of canapes off of a sturdy looking platter and then swung it as hard as he could at the back of the bounty hunter’s head. 

She dropped immediately, but unfortunately wasn’t down for the count. Before he could hit her again, she had rolled under the table and grabbed his ankle, pulling him down to the floor. His back hit the carpet hard enough to knock the air from his lungs. 

Before he could recover fully, he heard the singing of metal pulled from its sheath and saw that the bounty hunter had pulled a short, stiletto blade from the inside of her bodice. Quickly, he scrambled back before she could put it to his throat, seizing the first weapon he could find, which turned out to be a pie server. 

The bounty hunter snarled and rolled back to her feet. Yuri hefted the pie server in his hand and faced her. She struck out a few times with the blade, using a distinctive Dagdan reverse grip. Yuri blocked her, hearing the metal scrape against the flat of the pie server. 

She lashed out again and pressed him into the corner. He felt the pie server twist out of his grip and heard it clatter against the floor. 

Before she could spear him, however, she was distracted when a jam-filled donut exploded against the side of her face. Yuri looked over to see Constance, standing beside the table and reaching for more pastries to lob. 

“Constance!” he shouted, holding out a hand, “weapon!” 

Constance made a panicked sound of indecision. She was standing right in front of the cheese board. Yuri watched her fingers hesitate over several small, wickedly sharp knives. 

And then she reached instead for the punchbowl and tossed him the ladle. 

Yuri caught it, grimacing at the stickiness of the punch now running down his hand. The bounty hunter lunged forward, but this time, he struck faster. He caught her a blow against the jaw and she fell. This time, he immediately pinned her, wrestled the knife from her grip and then gave her another, sturdier blow to the temple with the business-end of the ladle. 

Finally, she went still. Yuri knelt on top of her, panting. Constance groaned in relief. 

“The ladle?” Yuri finally demanded, standing up. “The ladle, Constance?” 

“I don’t know!” Constance exclaimed. “You didn’t want to kill her, did you?” 

Yuri shook his head and then rolled his eyes. 

“Find some napkins for a gag. I’m going to tie her hands and find a cupboard.” 

—

When they finally returned to the party, Yuri took a seat at one of the card tables, while Constance went to ingratiate herself with a few more of the young socialites. 

“Deal me in,” he said clearly, choosing a spot back-to-back with Balthus’. 

As the cards piled up in front of him, Yuri leaned back slightly, making sure that he could hear exactly what Balthus was saying. 

“Listen, pal, listen, just one more game,” Balthus pleaded. “I’ll win it all back from you, I can feel it! The forty-seventh hand is always lucky for me.” 

“Why would I deal you in again?” a pinched, irritable voice replied. “You haven’t any more money for me to take.” 

“I do! I do! It’s just… it’s not with me right now, but I can pay,” Balthus pleaded. “Trust me, pal, I can pay a hundred times what I owe you if you just give me a day.” 

“Really?” the other voice asked skeptically. “A merchant’s son? How will you come up with five hundred gold in the span of a day?” 

“It’s a secret,” Balthus groaned. “Come on, you gotta trust me. I can pay. Just give me another shot and I know I can win!” 

“No. We’re done here.” 

“Buddy, buddy, hold on a moment!” Balthus lurched forward. 

Yuri idly examined his cards, not paying any particular attention to his bet. 

“I call,” he said. 

Behind him, Balthus was stretched across the table, whispering just loud enough for a few nearby people to possibly overhear. 

“Look, I’ve got big money coming in tonight,” Balthus whispered. “A few guys asked me to fence something for them through my pop’s store. It’s supposed to be worth thousands. A harp, I think, must be made of gold, I dunno.” 

“A harp?” the other voice whispered back, sounding suddenly intrigued. 

“Yeah, somebody’s harp. Macky, I think it was. A couple of fellows came to me last week, big blokes all covered in these stinking wolf pelt cloaks. I’m talking huge, alright, with bulging muscles and big… really big fur pelts.” 

Lay off of the pelts thing, Balthus, it’s getting weird, Yuri thought urgently, wishing that he could turn around and pinch Balthus. He’d told the idiot to make it obvious that the contacts were from Faerghus, not wax poetic on their rugged clothing for ten minutes. 

Luckily Balthus seemed to recognize that he was losing the thread and corrected his course. 

“They told me that they were planning to get their hands on Macky’s Harp tonight and they needed me to sell it quietly. Pretend it was an Almyran import if anyone sniffed around who wasn’t solid. They said it was worth two thousand gold, at least. I could sell this thing for four thousand, okay, I’m a business man.” 

Balthus’ sloppy whisper carried across the table. Yuri waited with his breath held. 

“Sir?” a nearby voice startled him. Yuri looked up to see the dealer pushing five golden coins towards him. 

“What’s that?” Yuri blinked, and then looked down at his cards. “Ah, what luck.” 

“Will you play another hand?” a woman with a pince-nez asked, looking bitterly at the gold he had just won. 

“Sorry,” Yuri shook his head. “I quit while I’m up.” 

Behind him, Balthus was still talking to the mark. 

“So what do you say? We have a deal to play another hand? Once those fur-cloaked fellas deliver to me tomorrow, I’ll have something worth more than double what you’ve won off of me.” 

The sound of wood scraping against stone followed. 

“Excuse me, sir,” Balthus’ irritable opponent stammered and Yuri watched as a small, neatly dressed man with hair slicked tightly against his head abandoned Balthus at his table and began to hurry around the dancefloor and towards the back of the hall. 

Yuri waited a few seconds and then got up as well, following as closely as he safely could in the man’s wake. Just as he had expected, the little fellow appeared to be scanning the crowd, and Yuri watched his eyes alight on Lord Arundel, standing amid a few of his retinue and observing the crowd with that clinical expression on his face. 

“My Lord,” the little man stammered as he approached. “My lord, I have… I believe I have come across, erm, a bit of an, um, of a situation, my lord, which might require… attention?” 

Yuri positioned himself as close as he dared, hidden partially by a group of men smoking pipes whose small-scale pollution of the atmosphere provided a bit of extra cover. 

The music was too loud for him to hear everything, but he saw the little man’s lips make the distinct shape of “Faerghus spies” and “theft.” Lord Arundel’s eyes narrowed. Yuri risked getting closer, moving behind Lord Arundel just in time to hear him whisper to one of his attendants. 

“Check the vault. Once it’s secure, double the guard outside and wait for me.” 

Yuri made it to the sheltering safety of the banquet table just in time to duck behind it before Lord Arundel looked up again. His pulse was rocketing again. It was almost time. Everything would come down to these next few minutes. It all hinged upon Lord Arundel and Yuri said a silent prayer to the goddess he wasn’t entirely sure if he believed in, begging her that it would work. 

Across the room, he watched as Balthus slipped out, swaying as though he was drunk. One person free, Yuri thought with a bit of relief. 

When the coast was clear, Yuri popped back up, pretending that he had only been adjusting the strap of his sandals. Lord Arundel had turned his back and was walking quickly to the end of the hall. Yuri followed and caught a glimpse of the man’s scarlet robe as he vanished up the stairs to the second floor. 

That was good, Yuri thought. He must be going to deactivate the enchantments that guarded the vault. From his memory of the floorplan, the Ward Generator must be up there, probably in his private chambers. 

Yuri turned away from the stairs and quickly headed for the corridor that led to the washrooms. A few guests were lined up outside of the women’s bath chamber, a few looking very impatient and craning their necks to try to see what was holding them up. 

As Yuri approached, he saw a few of the women at the front of the line jump back. Water was beginning to seep out from under the door. 

“Ridiculous,” the woman at the front of the line fumed, shaking off her slipper which had gotten a little wet at the toe. “Of all the times to…” 

“Ladies,” Yuri swept in immediately. “I can’t leave you all waiting in the hall like this. Use the gentlemen’s chamber until I can find a servant to clean this up.” 

A few of the women looked uncertain, but Yuri opened the door to the other washroom and shooed out an old fellow washing his hands. 

“Here you are,” Yuri said, glancing at the other boyish young lord who had been waiting for the washroom. “I’ll see about fixing this leak and he will guard the door for you and ensure your utmost privacy, won’t you, lad? A man should always put a lady first.” 

The boy nodded reluctantly. Slowly, the line of women made their way over to the other bath chamber. Yuri picked up the edge of his own costume and slipped into the flooded lady’s chamber. 

Constance was there already, skirts tied up around her knees to ensure that they wouldn’t be damp. She had loosened the pipe beneath the sink with a blast of ice and now water was steadily trickling onto the floor. In one hand, she had her pocket watch open. 

“Three minutes now. Are you prepared?” she asked, as Yuri unwound one of the decorative chains from around his neck and used it to secure the door. 

“I’ll wait another minute,” Yuri said briskly, trying to ensure that his hands weren’t trembling. “I need to be sure that the soldiers are actually inside of the vault. Do you have the spell ready?” 

“It’s ready,” Constance affirmed. “The guard will be dazed as a drunken goat the moment that he appears.” 

“Okay,” Yuri said, flexing his fingers and testing out the various little pins and picks he had hidden amongst his jewelry. “Make sure that your face is covered. Just in case.” 

Constance nodded, pulling out a black veil from her purse and beginning to wrap it around her hair. 

Yuri waited a moment longer. He bounced a little on the balls of his feet, ensuring that he would be ready to move immediately. 

“Is everything alright?” Constance asked, evidently sensing his nerves. 

“Now,” Yuri said, and then he vanished. 

Or rather, he switched. He felt the trickster magic swallow him up and, seconds later, he was standing at the foot of a massive, bronze golem. He was a few feet of solid stone below the bath chambers now, right in the middle of the vault, while the foul play had sent one of Arundel’s guards up into Constance’s waiting ambush. 

“Looks like a false alarm,” a nearby soldier was saying. “Spread out and check for anyone hiding.” 

Yuri ducked behind the golem. It was inert. One of its fists could probably beat him to a pulp, but it wasn’t moving. Lord Arundel must have deactivated the enchantment so that the guards could check the room. 

Silently, Yuri surveyed the rest of the chamber. The vault was small but packed. The walls were thick stone, engraved all over with enchantments. Runes of detection and magical warding covered the stone floor, but all of them were grey and inactive. 

Against the back wall, Yuri spotted rows of massive heavy chests. That must be the funds Lord Arundel was amassing for the war. Everywhere else, haphazardly transported from their cathedrals, were the relics of the church. Yuri felt his fingers twitch as he spotted Saint Macuil’s golden harp, sitting invitingly out on a table. 

But he couldn’t. He was here for one thing and that was the Brísingamen. 

As he scanned the room, his eyes caught on red gems twinkling through the glass of a cabinet. Moving as low and quiet as he could, Yuri approached the cabinet. He touched the lock gently. Nothing special. Nothing fancier than a priest’s key, probably, before all of this had been moved to Arundel for safekeeping. 

Yuri took out his tools and felt for the delicate pins. 

“All clear in the back,” another guard called out. 

“One more circuit and then we’re out,” the leader called. “Wes, Thyra, watch the door. Lord Arundel will be here soon.” 

Yuri felt the lock give and he pulled the door open, snatched the necklace, and then swapped again as quickly as he could. 

And that was all. He was back in a partially flooded washroom, breathing quickly, clasping a collar of red gemstones in one, trembling hand. 

Constance removed the black veil from her face. She was beaming. 

“The guard?” Yuri asked urgently, still clutching the Brísingamen. 

“Never even knew what happened to him,” Constance reported coolly. “He stumbled around for a few seconds and then you swapped him right back to where he started. Although he might get demoted for drinking on duty.” 

Yuri let out a long breath. Slowly, he handed the necklace over to Constance. She cooed over it, as though it were her long-lost child. 

“There you are,” she beamed. “Oh, Yuri, this is it!” 

“The spell, Constance,” Yuri reminded her. 

Constance gave the Brísingamen another loving caress and then she unhooked her own necklace. She turned around, waved her fingers for a moment, and then reached up to refastened the collar around her throat. 

As she turned around, Yuri saw that every red stone in the Brísingamen was now a deep emerald green. 

“Well?” Constance asked, brightly. “How does it look?” 

Yuri nodded wordlessly. As long as no one examined it closely, as long as no one noticed the fine settings of the stones were no longer plain silver, but instead something closer to ivory, it was identical.  

“You should go,” Yuri said. “Get to the carriage and help Hapi. I’ll join you at the rendezvous point.” 

Constance grinned and giggled, beginning to untuck her dress from around her waist. 

“What fun!” she exclaimed gleefully. “I think I might be the finest thief in Fódlan.” 

Yuri sighed heavily, and ushered her out into the hall. They had what they had come for. Now the hard part began. 

—

After Constance was back in the ballroom, Yuri slipped out of the washroom and back up the corridor towards the main staircase. He slipped off his sandals to ensure that he could move quietly and leave no damp footprints in his wake. The stone was cold beneath his feet, but he picked his way up to the second floor without a sound. 

If the floorplan had been correct, Lord Arundel’s apartments were on the western side of the keep. The maid who had paid for the map had also recalled that Lord Arundel kept a study on the same floor, which was kept locked and none of the maids were permitted to enter. 

The hallway was empty. The staff were all either serving at the gala below or searching the grounds for Faerghan saboteurs. Yuri tested a few doors until he found a locked one, which must be the study. This time, he took his time coaxing the lock open gently. 

When it popped open, he saw a dark room beyond. It looked like a fairly typical study, a leather padded chair, bookshelves, a few correspondances spread out across a great wooden desk. No window, though. That was odd. If his map had been correct, the room ought to be against the western wall of the building. 

Yuri turned his attention to the shelves. He pulled each one gently, searching for any tiny difference in weight. His hands ran across the books, testing them for any resistance as he slid them out. 

Finally, he turned his attention to the desk, bending down to sweep the palms of his hands along the bottom of it, and he felt a switch. Pressing it, he heard one of the shelves behind him shift slightly. 

Yuri grinned to himself as he turned back to the bookcase and pulled it open just enough for him to slip through. Beyond it, there was another shallow room, entirely dark. 

Across from where he stood there was a curtained window. It was difficult to make out much of the room, but as Yuri squinted into the darkness, he saw that there were several large shapes looming out of the dark. Mechanical devices, he thought, or perhaps some form of magical equipment like the Crestologist had used back at Garreg Mach. And what looked like a table at the center of the room. A table that had… restraints. 

Yuri took a hesitant step into the room, casting his eyes around for anything that looked particularly magical. 

“You really think that I would be so foolish?” a dry voice said from behind him. “You don’t even know the pass phrase.” 

“My lord,” Yuri said, retreating a few steps back. He grinned sheepishly and held up his hands. “I’m terribly sorry. It seems that I must have gotten a little turned around…” 

“Enough of that,” Lord Arundel interrupted. As he stepped into the room, runes on the ceiling began to glow, casting a dim green light over everything. Yuri could see his expression now, and it was coldly, dispassionately murderous.

Yuri changed his position, shifting his hands to the somatic posture for an aura spell in case he needed to fight. 

“You really thought I wouldn’t recognize you?” Lord Arundel asked, advancing a few more steps into the room, backing Yuri further towards the wall. “You never performed at the Mittelfrank, unless you count a few unsavory services rendered up in private boxes and disreputable boarding houses.” 

“I was an entertainer,” Yuri shrugged, keeping his head high. “Does it really matter where I sang my songs?” 

“Perhaps not,” Lord Arundel conceded. “What concerns me is that I recall that you ingratiated yourself so thoroughly with Count Rowe that he offered you a position in his household. Tell me, Yuri Leclerc, did the Count send you here himself? Or is this some misguided attempt to earn his good graces again?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Yuri said. He kept his voice even until the last word, where it trembled just a tiny bit. 

He needed to keep the man talking. Let him gloat, let him ramble, let him try to rub Yuri’s face in his own hubris. Anything to just keep him distracted. 

“Such sloppy work,” Lord Arundel sighed and then gave him a thin, pitying smile. “Even if your fence hadn’t turned out to be a loose-lipped drunkard, did you really think that I would leave this room unguarded in my absence? First, you blunder your way into my path with hardly anything to disguise that distinctive hair of yours. And now here you are, trying to find a way to deactivate my vault’s golems without even understanding the technology that you are looking at. How amateur.” 

“I am doing this for Faerghus,” Yuri shot back. “Now tell me the pass phrase or I will burn you to a crisp before your guards even hear you scream.” 

Lord Arundel’s smile flickered away to nothing. 

“I wouldn’t try it, boy,” he said coldly. “You’re out of your depth now.” 

“Maybe I am,” Yuri replied fiercely. “But I will take down every one of you Adrestian bastards with me before I betray my country. The pass phrase, Arundel!” 

“Put your hands down,” Lord Arundel replied, not even a trace of fear in his voice, “and perhaps I will spare your life. You’ve always been a parasite, relying on more powerful men to keep you fed. Now drop to your knees and beg for a scrap.” 

“I’m warning you—” 

“Yuri,” Lord Arundel raised a finger. “I’m not a wasteful man. I know why Rowe tolerated your fawning. Your blood carries secrets you can barely understand. You might be… a useful subject for my work.”

Yuri’s eyes flicked down to the table with the restraints in front of him. It was time to go. 

“Alright then,” Yuri said, slowly lowering his hands and dropping his feigned desperation. “Thanks for the chat. I guess I don’t need that pass phrase, seeing as you’ve already so kindly left your vault un-warded for the last five minutes.” 

He grinned and backed up to the window, trying to sense someone within his range that he could swap with. 

Before he could move, though, there was a burst of dark violet energy and he felt something ice cold pierce through his thigh, shattering the bone and severing the tendons. He dropped to the ground, a cry of agony escaping his mouth as he felt the icy rush of necrotic energy bursting through him. 

That wasn’t possible, a part of him thought wildly. Lord Arundel was a cavalry fighter, not a mage, and definitely not a dark mage. And he was strong, stronger than any mage Yuri had ever faced before. He had never even studied sorcery, how had he just…? 

“On second thought,” Lord Arundel growled, readying another glyph of crackling violet light, “I think I’ll kill you now. Your blood will serve its purpose once I drain it from your corpse.” 

Yuri scrambled back, dragging his useless leg. This didn’t make sense. Lord Arundel shouldn’t have been able to cast a spell like that and now… 

Now he was going to die. The realization brought a kind of cold clarity that cut through his panic. He had messed something up, gotten a detail wrong, and now he was going to die. 

The other wolves would be okay, he told himself. They were all free now. They could take care of each other. Maybe they could even find a way to take care of Abyss.

He’d left a note in his chambers, just in case. He hoped that one of them would find it before it was too late. Merciful Sothis, please let Constance find the note. Goddess, protect his people. He had failed them and so he would have to put his faith in a prayer instead. 

He faced Lord Arundel, hoping that he could at least die with his eyes open. But the end didn’t come. 

Before Lord Arundel had time to finish him off, they were interrupted by the scream of a massive, monstrous bird smashing against the curtained window. 

Hapi, Yuri realized, but he had no time to be angry at her for going against his instructions. 

Instead, he pulled himself upright with a scream as his leg shifted, and flung himself through the cracked glass and out of the window. He felt the jagged edges slash through his thin clothing and dig into the flesh of his side, and then he was falling, the ground rushing up towards him.

Guard, he remembered, at the gate. He switched their positions. Distantly, he heard the guard yelp in terrified surprise before crashing headlong into a bush. 

Suddenly Yuri was collapsing beside the western gate of the palace, barely able to crawl his way towards safety. None of the soldiers seemed to notice, as they were all occupied with shooting down the massive hawk that was still battering against the walls of the keep. 

Yuri groaned as he heaved himself forward. The pain was incredible. He thought that he might be sick in a moment, or pass out, which would be worse. 

Before he did, though, he felt something seize him beneath the arms and start to pull him up. He struggled for a second, although he knew it was pointless to try to fight in his condition. 

“Hey boss,” Balthus’ familiar, wonderful, idiotically cheerful voice said from behind him. “Looks like you might have bungled this one up a bit.” 

Yuri groaned in wordless rage and relief. 

“That’s alright, pal,” Balthus said, heaving him up and into his arms. “If you want to console yourself by resting your head against my chest, that’s fine by me.” 

As his broken leg moved, Yuri had to bite down on the side of his fist to keep from crying out. 

“Why are you here?” he managed to pant, as Balthus hurtled across the bridge and back towards the street. “You were supposed to meet me at the city walls.” 

“Hapi didn’t like that plan,” Balthus said casually. “So we decided not to do that. No offense, boss, but unless breaking your leg and slicing yourself to ribbons was a part of the scheme, I’d say she was right.” 

“Did Constance get out?” Yuri asked through gritted teeth as Balthus skidded around a corner and stopped. 

Before Balthus could answer, Constance threw open the door of the carriage, waiting for them on the street. 

“Your rescuers have arrived!” she exclaimed and then her eyes widened as she saw the blood and the necrotizing flesh across Yuri’s leg. Balthus bounded up into the carriage and Yuri heard Hapi urge the horses forward, sending them all lurching forward and down the street. 

Balthus whooped and then hastily slammed the carriage door shut before it could catch against one of the lamp posts. 

“Yuri, what happened?” Constance gasped, already fumbling to find him an elixir to drink that would at least close the wounds. Yuri choked it down and felt the sickening pain dull slightly, clearing his head enough that he could speak. 

“Arundel’s a mage,” he managed to cough. “Stronger than I thought. You should have left. We need to get out of the city before they close the gates!” 

“They’re closing the gate!” Hapi called from the front of the carriage. 

“Constance?” Balthus grinned, and then he rubbed his knuckles eagerly. “I knew I was gonna get the chance to beat somebody up.” 

Constance opened the door on her side while Balthus leapt out of the other door. Yuri saw a burst of flame, heard a few panicked screams, and then what sounded like Balthus passing a kidney stone. Something scraped the top of the carriage and tore through the fabric ceiling. It was the gate, Yuri realized. Balthus was holding the entire portcullis of the gates up by himself. 

Yuri struggled, trying to sit up enough that he could see, but all he heard was a tremendous clang and then the horses slowed and both Constance and Balthus hopped up and into the carriage beside him again. Constance dusted off her hands and then fluffed the ends of her hair primly. Balthus wiped a little blood from his lip with one hand. 

Hapi spurred the horses and the wheels rattled below them as they were now on the rutted dirt roads around the castle town. Yuri gritted his teeth and tried to keep his leg as still as he could. He didn’t want to think about the damage. Even if it could be healed, the spike had gone through most of his thigh. He might never walk properly again, which meant he couldn’t work, which meant that Abyss couldn’t survive. 

After a rattling gallop that felt like an eternity, the wheels bounced and lurched as Hapi turned them off of the main road and towards the safe house. Yuri squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth. 

When they finally came to a stop, Hapi opened both of the side doors this time. They had pulled up alongside an old inn, probably abandoned as the war front moved uncomfortably close to this region and travelers stopped passing through. 

“We’ve got a few pegasus knights in the skies,” she warned and then caught sight of Yuri. 

“Get the carriage in the stables before anyone spots it,” Yuri said through clenched teeth, starting to struggle out. Balthus quickly intervened, scooping him up again and then laying him on the grass beneath one of the trees with surprising gentleness. Yuri leaned back against the trunk with relief, closing his eyes for a moment so that he wouldn’t have to look down at his leg again. 

“Why didn’t you stop?” Hapi asked quietly. 

“Balthus, open the stables up,” Yuri ignored her. “We need to stash everything and change clothes.” 

“Yuri, why didn’t you just run?” Hapi asked again, but louder now, and angry. Very angry. 

“Because we weren’t finished yet,” he replied evenly. “In the plan, I told you that I would give you five minutes. So I gave you all five minutes.” 

Yuri opened his eyes to face her. All three of them were just standing in front of him now, staring. Constance looked frightened. Balthus looked uncertain. And Hapi looked furious. 

“It was a gamble,” Yuri added, barely suppressing his frustration. “Arundel was going to recognize me no matter what I did, so I gave him a Faerghan specter to chase instead of us. And every second that we could keep the Ward Generator off meant money in our pocket. Plans go wrong sometimes. But when they do go wrong, you can’t just… you can’t just throw it all to the wind and do something dangerous and foolish like summoning a giant bird!” 

“Oh, I did something dangerous and foolish?” Hapi laughed sarcastically. “Yuri, you almost died. And for what? For money? For a relic?” 

“I kept to the plan. And you could have ruined everything by coming back for me,” Yuri shot back. “And what might have happened? No money. No relic. All of us dead because you couldn’t follow basic instructions!” 

Hapi looked like he had slapped her. She shook her head, folding her arms defensively over her chest. 

“Hey,” Balthus said, stepping up to put an arm protectively on her shoulder. “We aren’t dead. Yeah, we took a risk, but we still made it out. Don’t blame Hapi for making a tough call when it paid off.” 

Constance stepped forward and then knelt down in the grass beside him, silently beginning to examine his broken leg. Yuri tipped his head back again and let her work. 

“I just don’t understand,” Hapi said after a long pause, still squeezing her arms around herself. “I get that you wanted to win, to help Constance, to help Abyss. I even get that you wanted to screw over a bunch of nobles and the morons in the Western Church. Believe me, I get that. But why did you act like this job would be so easy when it wasn’t? It barely worked.” 

“Thanks, Hapi,” Yuri said sarcastically, trying to wipe some of the blood and sweat from his face with the shredded rag of his sleeve. “You really know how to rub my face in it, don’t you?” 

“Why don’t you get it that we’d rather have you alive than any relic, than any necklace, than any amount of gold in the world?” Hapi shouted back. 

“Because, my—” Yuri started to say and then broke off. 

“Because what?” Hapi demanded. “Don’t we at least deserve to know the truth?” 

“Because my mom is sick!” 

The words fell out of his mouth before he could stop them. He pressed a hand over his lips, as though he could somehow scoop what he had just said back inside, but he couldn’t. Damage done. 

“She… she doesn’t use… the money I send her,” he continued haltingly, trying to stop his voice from breaking. “She gives it away. Everyone is struggling right now and… without the… without the necklace, she’ll—” 

He couldn’t keep going. He took a deep breath and concentrated very hard to keep the lump in his throat from overwhelming him. 

The other wolves were silent, watching as he lay injured on the ground, struggling not to cry because his mom was dying and if he couldn’t fix this, if he couldn’t even protect her, then what was the point? 

“Okay,” Hapi finally said, her voice soft again. “I get it. What can we do?” 

“Nothing,” Yuri said immediately. “It’s my issue. You weren’t supposed to get involved, I just… I thought if Constance owed me a favor, she could try to return it.” 

“Nope,” Hapi said, “None of that, Yuri-bird. Don’t you remember what you said? Your problems are our problems. We help each other. No favors. No bargains. We’re just here to do whatever we can when you need it.” 

Yuri wanted to protest, but he couldn’t find the words. He was just so tired. And damn Hapi for reminding him of his own stupid words. 

“Hey, boss?” Balthus said, squatting down beside him. 

“Yeah?” Yuri replied trepidatiously. 

Balthus hugged him. For a moment, Yuri wanted to indignantly resist, but it was actually kind of nice. Balthus held tight and his chest through the silk shirt was rather pillowy. 

“I’m so sorry,” Balthus murmured, rubbing one of his massive hands between Yuri’s shoulders. Slowly, Yuri felt the tension beginning to drain out of him. He leaned against Balthus and took a few deep, steadying breaths. 

Finally, he pushed back and Balthus let him go. He felt suddenly embarrassed by his outburst. In his defense, hell of a day. 

“Yuri,” Constance said gently, “would you mind if I moved your leg a little?” 

“Sure,” he said roughly, sitting up a little straighter so that Constance could patch him up. She turned his leg to the side, ensuring that it would be aligned properly. If nothing else, he needed it to be movable enough to ride with. 

Constance put her hands over the wound. Light flared up from the glyphs beneath her hands. His leg felt warm as the healing magic flowed through it. 

And then the light grew brighter. The collar around Constance’s neck glowed, the green stones flaring suddenly red like burning embers. Her hair blew back, the power she was channeling making it rise around her head and dance as though she was standing in a storm of wind. 

Yuri squinted through the blinding light and then gasped as it abruptly stopped. The pain was gone. Entirely gone. He looked down and saw the wound… except that he didn’t. There was no wound. 

Hardly daring to believe it, he bent his knee slightly. It felt a little stiff, but that was all. Like he had pulled a muscle, rather than having a spike of dark magic impale his entire thigh. If the Brísingamen could heal that, then maybe his mother would be okay. He looked up at Constance, unable to form the words to thank her. 

Constance looked at him, and then her mouth spread into a wide smile. She beamed at him. 

“Well?” she said lightly. “What did you expect? I am the greatest sorceress to ever be born to House Nuvelle! You never had anything to worry about!” 

Yuri still found himself speechless. He just stared at her, the incredible, maddening, brilliant Constance von Nuvelle. And then, finally, he laughed. 

“Alright!” Balthus cheered. “That’s why you never skip leg day, right? But seriously, we’ve gotta stash this carriage and get our cargo safely home.” 

“So we got the, uh, extra cargo?” Yuri asked, slowly working on getting back to his feet. Hapi came to lend him a shoulder to balance on as he tested his leg delicately. 

“Yeah, I got your stupid extra cargo,” Hapi said rolling her eyes. “You did give me plenty of time for that, I guess.” 

Balthus began pulling the chests out of the back of the carriage with probably unnecessary grunting. Yuri heard the sweet music of coins clinking. 

“Five chests of shiny that won’t be making it to the war front!” Balthus said cheerfully. “One for each of us and one to split!” 

“One for all of us to split and four to keep Abyss fed,” Yuri corrected him. 

“You kept that Arundel guy talking for a while before he cut you to pieces,” Hapi conceded. “I warped in and out of his vault five times and could have gone back for more if I hadn’t needed to go rescue you.” 

“I wish we could see the moment when he realizes,” Constance sighed dreamily. “I’m not sure they’ll even miss the Brísingamen in all of the confusion!” 

“Good plan, boss,” Balthus grinned, heaving the last chest out of the carriage. “Next time, just remember to escape.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Yuri said, hobbling back towards the old inn. “Next time, then? What are we stealing next?” 

“Can’t we take a break from crime for a while?” Hapi complained. “I mean, unless you need us. Then I’ll steal anything in the world.” 

“Aw, Hapi,” Constance cried. “That is such a sweet sentiment!” 

“Actually, I do have this little issue where I sort of spent eight hundred gold that I didn’t exactly really have…?” Balthus mentioned. 

Everyone groaned. 

“Hey, come on!” Balthus said indignantly. “What happened to your problems are our problems?”