Morning sunlight spilled over the hills beyond Starhaven. Orion stood in the clearing near Cyrus's old training grounds, breathing heavily. Smoke curled from his fingertips. Several trees around him bore black scorch marks, and chunks of stone had been blasted loose from the ground. Across from him, Damien straightened slowly. His Soul Brand still glowed faintly beneath his shirt.
"You're getting better at that."
Orion wiped sweat from his brow.
"You're getting harder to hit."
"That's because I'm talented."
"That's because you keep throwing my attacks back at me."
Damien grinned.
"Sounds like talent."
Orion shook his head.
Over the past several days, they'd trained until neither of them could move. Orion practiced controlling the Demon Phoenix's flames without allowing anger to control him. Damien experimented with the strange force his Soul Brand gave him. Neither fully understood what they carried. Beneath his fire, Orion could feel memory and instinct, the weight of a presence he couldn't quite understand. Damien's power was stranger in a different way. Some days he could send a grown man flying with barely a shove. Other times, the same technique felt weaker.
But there was one pattern neither of them had fully understood yet. The stronger Orion became— the more Damien seemed capable of becoming with him. Damien flexed his hand.
"Still feels like it's holding something back."
Orion looked toward him.
"The shard feels that way too." Orion glanced toward the waterfall. "I can do more than I could when we got here, but there's still something I haven't reached."
Damien sat on a fallen log.
"Well, unless the waterfall is planning to explain it to us, I think we've squeezed about everything useful out of this place."
Orion looked around at the cabin and the training grounds beyond it. Cyrus's journals and the quiet of Starhaven had given him answers, along with considerably more questions. But Damien was right. If they stayed much longer, they would be hiding rather than learning. Orion picked up his coat.
"Where do you suggest?"
Damien smiled. That immediately made Orion suspicious.
"Oh no."
"What?"
"That's the smile you make before suggesting something stupid."
"That's hurtful."
"Where?"
Damien stood.
"Lorianne. It is north of here."
"Never heard of it. What makes you so pleased about going?"
"City practically runs on cards, dice, liquor, and bad decisions."
Damien's smile widened.
"Just like home."
Orion raised an eyebrow.
"Let me guess." He put on his coat. "Casino."
"Several."
Damien threw an arm around his shoulder.
"But only one that matters."
Lorianne — The City of Vice
Orion smelled Lorianne before he understood what kind of place it was. Cigar smoke mingled with alcohol, perfume, sweat, and food frying somewhere down the street. Music spilled from open saloons while dice rattled against tables visible through windows. Bright banners of red velvet and gaudy gold hung over the streets. Every other building seemed to advertise gambling, liquor, entertainment, or some combination of all three. Damien's eyes lit up.
Damien spread his arms. "Now this is civilization."
Orion ignored him. Something down an alley had caught his attention. A thin, dirty girl lay on the ground, her clothes little more than torn fabric. A metal collar circled her neck. A large man stood over her.
"Useless gutter trash."
He spat. The girl flinched. But she didn't lower her eyes. There was hatred there. Not shame. Not surrender. Hatred. The man reached toward her hair. His hand never arrived. Someone caught his wrist. The man's eyes widened. Orion stood between them. His grip tightened. Heat spread through the bouncer's arm.
"You touch her again..."
Orion's eyes burned faintly red.
"...and I'll make sure you don't use this hand again."
The man snarled.
"Who the hell do you think you—"
He tried pulling free. That was his second mistake. Orion twisted.
CRACK.
The bouncer screamed. His knees hit the ground. Orion kicked him square in the chest. The man crashed into the alley wall. His head struck stone. He collapsed. Damien leaned around the corner.
"You always this quick to start fights when we enter a new town?"
Orion released the man's broken wrist.
"Only when somebody deserves it."
Damien grabbed the unconscious bouncer beneath the arms.
"Fair."
He began dragging him away.
"Where are you taking him?"
"There's a horse trough."
Orion stared. Damien shrugged.
"He looks warm."
Orion knelt beside the girl. She immediately raised both arms over her head.
"Please. I didn't mean to disobey."
Orion stopped where he was, giving her room to see that he wasn't reaching for her. His expression softened.
"I'm not here to hurt you."
She slowly lowered one arm.
"What's your name?"
She didn't answer. Her lip was split, one eye was swollen, and bruises covered her arms. When she tried to stand, her legs shook. That was when Orion noticed her bare, calloused feet, with old scars overlapping newer cuts. She hadn't been walking barefoot for a day or a week. Possibly years. Damien returned.
"I tossed him in the trough."
He looked toward her. Then at her feet. His expression changed.
"Town didn't even blink."
Orion removed his pack.
"Watch her."
Damien pointed to himself.
"Aye aye, boss man."
"Very funny."
Orion stood.
"Just keep an eye on her."
He disappeared into the street. The girl tensed when Orion left. Damien sat several feet away without moving closer.
"He does that," he said, nodding toward the street. "Sees someone getting hurt and suddenly forgets we had somewhere to be. He's annoying and stubborn, but he's a good guy. You don't have to take my word for it. Just wait and see what he's gone to do."
She watched him without answering. Damien let her. Orion returned several minutes later carrying a pair of women's boots. Damien stared.
"You went shopping?"
"Shut up."
Orion crouched.
"I guessed the size."
He set the boots in front of her.
"Anything has to be better than walking around like that."
The girl stared. For several seconds, she didn't move. Then she reached toward them carefully.
"I..."
Her voice cracked.
"I haven't had shoes since I was little."
Orion's jaw tightened. He looked toward her wounds. Then toward his hand.
"There's something else I want to try."
Damien immediately frowned.
"Try?"
"I've been practicing."
"That word isn't comforting."
Orion ignored him. He concentrated on warmth rather than anger: the same fire that had closed his wounds, made smaller and gentler. Tiny embers stretched above his palm until several glowing feathers floated there. Unlike his usual crimson flames, these burned gold, almost white at their centers. Damien stared.
"You've done that before?" Damien asked.
"Not like this. I'm trying to use the warmth that heals me."
"Fantastic. That sounds reassuringly experimental."
Orion looked toward the girl.
"This shouldn't hurt."
Damien raised a finger.
"Strong word. Shouldn't."
Orion glared at him.
"Helping."
"Right."
Orion released one feather. It drifted toward the girl's split lip. Touched her skin. She gasped. Golden light spread across the wound. It closed. Another feather touched her arm. A bruise faded. Another landed against one of the cuts along her foot. Skin slowly knitted together. The girl stared in disbelief. Then— something strange happened. One feather lingered. Instead of disappearing after healing the wound, it rested against the center of her chest. Orion frowned.
The girl's eyes widened.
"What is it?"
"I don't know."
The feather dissolved. Not into smoke. Into her. A faint golden glow moved beneath her skin. Then vanished. Damien stood.
"Orion."
"I saw it."
The girl pressed her hand against her chest.
"It doesn't hurt."
Something stirred beneath Orion's own warmth. He couldn't tell whether it came from the shard or his relief at seeing her wounds close. It faded before he could grasp it. He stared at the girl, and she stared back. Neither understood what had just happened.
"How do you feel?" he asked.
She kept her hand against her chest. "Warm. It isn't hurting me. I feel... safe."
Orion looked at her face, searching for some sign she'd only said that to reassure him. He didn't know what to make of the answer, but she seemed calmer than she had a moment before. He picked up the boots.
"Here. Let's see if these fit."
He helped her into the boots. She stared down at her feet, then looked toward him, her eyes glistening. "Why are you doing this for me?"
Orion paused, looking toward the collar around her neck.
"Because you deserve to walk your own path." He stood. "Without chains or cages."
Damien crossed his arms.
"We should move before the guy in the trough wakes up."
Orion nodded. He looked toward the girl.
"Stay out of trouble."
Then he and Damien left. The girl watched them go. Waited. Then followed.
Later That Night
Their camp sat just beyond Lorianne. Far enough that the city lights were faint. Close enough to hear distant music when the wind shifted. Damien crouched beside the fire, stirring a pot. Orion looked toward a bush. The bush moved. Then stopped. Damien followed his gaze. He smiled.
"You think we should tell her?"
"Tell her what?"
"That she's terrible at spying."
The bush moved again. Orion sighed.
"She's been following us for hours."
"Maybe she thinks she's good at it."
"She's hiding behind one bush."
Damien nodded seriously.
"Elite technique."
Orion looked toward the darkness.
"You can come out."
Nothing.
"There's food."
The bush immediately moved. Damien covered his mouth.
"Don't laugh."
"I'm trying."
The girl emerged slowly, still wearing the boots, and approached the fire. Orion handed her a bowl and nodded toward a place to sit. She ate without speaking for several minutes, quickly at first, then more slowly once she seemed to realize nobody intended to take the food away. Damien leaned back.
"So."
He nodded toward her.
"What do we do about our guest?"
Orion looked toward their guest. "I don't think you ever told us your name."
She hesitated, then set the bowl carefully in her lap. "Saphira."
"I'm Orion. That's Damien."
"Unfortunately for both of you," Damien added.
Orion ignored him. "Why did you follow us, Saphira? Is somebody going to come looking for you?"
Her grip tightened on the bowl. "I need help, and I don't have many people I can ask."
Damien's humor faded. "Then tell us what's happening. We can't do much if we don't know."
Saphira swallowed.
"My parents gambled. A lot." Saphira rubbed her hands together. Neither man interrupted as she continued, "They lost the house, the money—everything."
Her voice grew quieter. "Eventually they didn't have anything left to wager. Except me."
Damien went still. "They put you up as collateral? Their own daughter?"
She nodded without looking away from the fire. "They lost. I've belonged to Morrison ever since."
Orion's expression darkened. He waited rather than forcing another question into the space she'd left.
"The man who owns the Crimson Bloom?" Damien asked. "The biggest casino in Lorianne?"
"That's him."
"Morrison charges me for everything: food, a bed, water, clothes, even bathing." She laughed bitterly. "Even the collar. He makes me pay for that, too."
Orion stared.
"He charges you for keeping you imprisoned?" Orion asked.
"No matter how much I work, the debt gets bigger. There's always something else I owe him."
Orion's fists tightened. "Then it isn't a debt you can pay. It's a way to keep you there."
Her eyes watered. "When you helped me in the alley, I thought maybe you'd listen. I don't know how to get out by myself."
Orion set his bowl down. "We'll help you."
She stared at him as though the answer had come too quickly to trust. "You don't even know me."
"I know you shouldn't be wearing that collar. That's enough to start with."
Damien looked at him.
"Just like that?" Damien asked.
Orion turned toward him. "Yes. We can't leave her in there."
"I'm not saying we should." Damien pointed toward the city. "I'm asking how we get her out."
Orion considered it. Then—
"We win her freedom," Orion said.
Damien looked at him. "You want to out-gamble the biggest casino owner in Lorianne, at his own tables?"
"You brought us here for the gambling. We might as well make it useful. If he puts a price on her, we make him pay it himself."
Damien's grin returned slowly. He stood and put both hands on Orion's shoulders.
"I have never respected one of your bad ideas more."
Orion shoved him away. "Can you do it?"
"You're looking at the best gambler this side of the Sand Sea." Damien caught their skeptical expressions and pointed at them. "That reaction is insulting."
Saphira looked between them, uncertain whether she was allowed to smile.
Damien turned to her. "If your freedom has a price, I'll win it. Let me worry about Morrison's cards."
Saphira smiled. Barely. But it was there. Orion stood.
"You should go back tonight."
Her smile disappeared.
"I don't want to."
"I know, and I don't like asking it of you." Orion glanced toward the city. "But if Morrison realizes you are missing before we're ready, he could move you somewhere we can't find. We need to know where you'll be tomorrow."
Damien nodded.
"Or worse."
Saphira looked frightened. Orion crouched slightly so they were level.
"Tomorrow," Orion promised, meeting her eyes. "We come for you. You won't have to do this again."
She studied his face before nodding. "I will be waiting."
The Crimson Bloom Casino
The Crimson Bloom lived up to its name. Red velvet covered nearly everything, and gold trim reflected the chandeliers above the card tables. Coins changed hands constantly. Orion watched fortunes won, lost, and wagered again as though nobody remembered how much work those coins represented. The entire building seemed designed to make people forget money was real. Damien looked around. His eyes widened.
"I've found heaven."
Orion grabbed his shoulder.
"We have a job."
"Heaven can wait."
Their plan was simple: Damien would keep winning until somebody important noticed, preferably Morrison. Orion would stay nearby in case it became violent. Given their recent history, he was almost certain it would. Saphira had returned through a side entrance earlier. She'd looked terrified. But she'd gone inside. For freedom. Damien started small. Cards. Dice. Another card table. Then another. He didn't merely win. He embarrassed people. Crowds gathered. Whispers spread. Stacks of chips grew.
Orion watched from near the bar. Eventually— someone approached Damien. A sharply dressed employee.
"Sir."
Damien looked up from his cards.
"You've been invited to the High Rollers' Lounge."
Damien glanced toward Orion. He winked. Orion sighed. Then Damien disappeared behind velvet curtains.
High Rollers
Morrison sat alone, greasy-haired and dressed in an expensive suit, with too many rings on his fingers. His permanent expression suggested the world had personally offended him. He kept his eyes on Damien as he shuffled.
"They say you're good," Morrison said.
Damien sat across from him. "Then your employees have excellent judgment."
"Confidence can become expensive at this table."
"I'll try to make it expensive for you."
They played quickly and ruthlessly. Morrison was good, but Damien was better, and the chips moved steadily toward him. On the final hand, Damien placed his cards down and leaned back while Morrison stared.
"And here I thought I'd get a challenge."
Morrison's smile disappeared. Damien looked him over.
"I can't decide which is worse," Damien said, gathering his winnings. "Your poker face, or the one you make when you lose."
Morrison's eye twitched. "You cheated."
Damien sighed. "I was wondering how long it would take you to say that. You got outplayed. It happens. Usually not this often, but we all have bad nights."
Morrison slammed one hand onto the table.
"You aren't going anywhere."
Damien stopped.
"The house always wins."
Guards appeared behind him. Damien smiled slowly.
"Okay."
He returned the chips.
"Then how about another wager?"
Morrison stared. Damien rested a hand on the chips.
"Everything I won," Damien said, pushing the pile forward. "One hand against my friend. If he wins, we get whatever we ask for."
Morrison eyed the chips. "And when he loses?"
"You get the whole pile back. All or nothing."
Morrison considered it. Then smiled.
"Bring him."
Orion was escorted inside several minutes later. He looked toward Damien.
"What did you do?"
Damien pointed toward the chair.
"Trust me."
"That's becoming increasingly difficult."
Orion sat. Morrison shuffled.
"One hand."
Orion remembered nights beside a fire with Cyrus, losing hand after hand while the old man drank and laughed at him.
"Stop staring at the cards, kid. People tell you more than paper ever will."
Orion watched Morrison's fingers, his breathing, and the slight movement of his eyes each time he checked his cards. A smile crept across Orion's face. Morrison's expression changed. Cards hit the table. One hand. One winner. Orion. Morrison stared. Then slowly began clapping.
"Impressive."
Orion didn't like the tone.
"Really."
A side door opened. Two guards entered. Dragging someone between them. Orion stood immediately.
"Saphira."
Her face was bloodied. Tears ran down her cheeks. They dropped her onto the floor.
"I'm sorry..."
She shook.
"I'm so sorry..."
Morrison straightened his cuffs. "You thought you could enter my casino, humiliate me, steal my property, and leave as heroes? Did she tell you I was stupid as well as generous?"
Orion's chair fell backward.
"She isn't property."
Morrison smiled.
"She ran."
One guard grabbed Saphira's hair.
"We convinced her to tell us why."
Orion's fire stirred. Morrison spread his arms.
"Like I said."
His smile widened.
"The house always wins."
Flame exploded across the room.
The House Burns
The wall of fire forced Morrison's guards backward. Damien stood. His Brand ignited.
"You know..." He cracked his neck. "...I was willing to do this the civilized way."
Orion's eyes burned crimson. Damien smiled.
"Let's burn this place down."
A guard charged. Damien caught his punch. Force gathered. He redirected it through his palm.
BOOM.
The man flew across the room and crashed through a table. Orion swept one arm. Flames erupted. Another guard went through the door. Cards caught fire. Curtains ignited. People screamed. Morrison stumbled backward.
"STOP THEM!"
Orion punched a guard. Damien threw another across the room.
"STOP THEM!"
Morrison found a hidden latch. A section of wall opened. He slipped through.
"Take care of them!"
He pointed toward someone outside.
"And find her father!"
The door slammed shut. Damien glanced toward Orion.
"Did he say father?"
Orion's expression became colder.
"Apparently."
They finished the remaining guards quickly. Orion rushed toward Saphira. She was barely conscious. He summoned a healing feather. Nothing. His fire flickered. Too much fighting. Too much power. He tried again. A small golden feather appeared. It touched Saphira's cheek. Some of the bleeding stopped. But Orion's hand shook.
"Can't do enough here."
Damien nodded.
"Then we move."
Orion lifted her. One arm under her knees. The other behind her back. Saphira weakly grabbed his coat.
"Hold on."
They ran. The balcony overlooking the casino floor was blocked. More guards approached from behind. Damien looked down. Then at Orion.
"You're thinking something stupid."
"Probably."
"Good."
Orion jumped.
"ORION!"
Flames erupted beneath them. They dropped toward the casino floor. Orion landed hard. Tables shattered beneath the impact. Saphira remained protected against his chest. Damien came down seconds later— considerably less gracefully. He hit a card table.
"Ow."
Orion looked over.
"You good?"
"I'm reconsidering our friendship."
Then— slow clapping. Morrison stood at the opposite end of the casino. Several armed guards surrounded him. And beside him— a disheveled man in his forties. Saphira froze.
"Dad..."
The man looked from Saphira to Morrison. "If I do this, my debts are cleared? That's what you said."
Morrison nodded. "Convince her to stay. They came for the girl. If she chooses to remain, they'll have no reason to interfere."
"Saphira." Her father forced a smile and held out his hand. "Come home. We can be a family again if you'll just help me fix what we broke."
Her entire body shook against Orion's arms. She stared at the offered hand, then slowly shook her head.
"You weren't a family to me," she said, her voice cracking. "You let them take me. I waited for you to come back, and you never did. Now you're here because he promised you something."
Her father flinched, but the forced smile disappeared almost immediately. His expression twisted.
"Ungrateful little brat."
Orion's eyes narrowed.
"You think you're worth anything?"
Saphira recoiled.
"You barely paid half of what I owe!"
He pointed toward her.
"Now stop this nonsense and help your family!"
Saphira buried her face against Orion's chest. She started crying. Orion became very still. He carefully handed her toward Damien.
"Take her."
Damien accepted her.
"Orion."
"You are never..."
Flames rolled from Orion's shoulders.
"...going to make her cry again."
The man took one step backward. Orion disappeared. Fire exploded beneath his boots. His fist ignited. He hit Saphira's father directly across the face.
CRACK.
Pain tore through Orion's hand. His own bones fractured from the impact. The man left the ground. He slammed into the floor several feet away. Unconscious. Orion stood over him. His hand hung at his side. Broken. Burning. Healing slowly.
"What kind of father..." His voice shook with rage. "...sells his own daughter?"
Nobody answered. Morrison backed away.
"F-Fine!"
Orion turned. Morrison raised both hands.
"Take her!"
Orion's fire intensified.
"Take her and go!"
They didn't wait.
Freedom
They left Lorianne beneath the cover of darkness. Orion carried Saphira on his back once she was strong enough to hold on. Damien carried most of their supplies. They didn't stop until the city lights had disappeared. Only then did they make camp. Saphira sat wrapped in a blanket beside the softly crackling fire while Orion knelt in front of her. His broken hand had mostly healed; now he could concentrate on her wounds.
Golden feathers drifted around them. One touched her cheek. Another her shoulder. Another settled against her ribs. Bruises faded. Cuts closed. Saphira watched them in silence.
"They're beautiful."
Orion looked toward the feathers.
He smiled slightly. "My fire gets called a lot of things. Beautiful isn't usually one of them."
Another feather touched her chest. The same place as before. It didn't disappear immediately. Instead— golden light spread faintly beneath her skin. Saphira inhaled sharply. Orion stopped.
"Does that hurt?"
"No," Saphira said, looking down. "It's the same warmth as before. It doesn't hurt."
The feather dissolved into her, and her eyes flashed gold for a brief instant. Orion was watching the wounds close and missed it. Damien saw. He frowned. Then the light vanished. Damien opened his mouth. Thought better of it. Not yet. Orion finished healing her and sat beside the fire. Damien's gaze settled on the metal collar still circling her neck.
"There's one thing left," he said. "Will you let me have a look at that lock?"
Saphira touched the collar, her fingers tightening around its edge. "Can you get it off?"
"It's a lock. Those I understand." He crouched beside her and waited for her nod before taking a thin tool from his sleeve. "Tell me if I pull your hair."
She held still while he worked. For a few moments there was only the crackle of the fire and the faint scrape of metal. Then the mechanism clicked. Damien eased the collar open and lifted it away.
Saphira brought both hands to her bare neck. She rubbed the place where the metal had rested, then looked at the collar in his hand as though she expected him to put it back.
Damien set it on the ground away from her. "We can leave that here."
She nodded, swallowing before she could answer. Orion stayed beside her while she let her hands fall into her lap.
After a while, Damien tossed a twig into the fire. "What do you want to do now? You don't have to decide tonight, but we should talk about it."
Saphira pulled the blanket tighter around herself.
"I want to come with you."
Orion looked over.
"You're free," Orion said. "You can go anywhere now, start over."
Saphira looked directly at him. "I know. That's what I'm trying to do—with you." She swallowed. "I want to help. I can learn to fight, cook, treat wounds, whatever you need."
Orion smiled faintly.
"You don't owe us anything."
"I know. I just... don't know how else to ask."
"You don't have to make yourself useful so we'll let you stay," Orion said. "If you want to learn those things, we can figure that out. It is not a price."
Saphira looked down. The words clearly hit harder than he intended. Her voice became smaller.
"Please."
She tightened her hands around the blanket.
"Just don't abandon me."
Orion looked at her hands clenching the blanket. He remembered standing alone after Augustine, with everything familiar gone. She wasn't asking him for another way to earn her keep. She was asking him not to leave her alone with that feeling.
Orion took a moment before answering. "Okay. You can come. And if you need time to decide what you want, take it. We aren't going to leave you behind for that."
Saphira slowly looked up, watching his face as though she needed to be sure he meant it. He held her gaze. Damien raised an eyebrow.
"Wow."
Orion looked toward him.
"What?"
"Really kept us in suspense."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Damien sat forward.
"Come on."
He gestured dramatically.
"You break a man's wrist for touching her."
"That's not—"
"Buy her shoes."
"She needed shoes."
"Make magical healing feathers."
"I didn't know I could do that."
"Storm a casino."
"That was the plan."
"Jump off a balcony carrying her like some storybook prince."
"There were guards behind us."
"Punch her father so hard you break your own hand."
Orion rubbed the back of his neck.
"He pissed me off."
Damien stared. Orion stared back. Saphira tried not to smile. Damien shook his head.
"Hopeless."
"What's hopeless?"
"Nothing."
Damien waved dismissively.
"Do the thing."
Orion frowned.
"What thing?"
"Give her a ring, genius. Unless you want me to explain the whole joining-the-crew part."
Orion blinked, then reached for his pouch. "You could've just said that."
Saphira watched as he searched the pouch.
Orion passed over the plain rings until his fingers found one with its own design. A narrow band of darkened metal wound around warmer gold, and fine fire-like markings curled around the small Eternal Flame emblem. Jace hadn't explained exactly who had worn it, only that it had belonged to someone at the heart of the old crew. Its place in the new Eternal Flame had yet to be decided. Maybe that was fitting.
Saphira was still deciding who she wanted to become. Orion held it out.
"This means you're one of us."
Saphira stared at the ring.
"Really?"
Orion nodded.
"There's no debt, no price, and no contract." He smiled. "You can leave whenever you want."
Those words mattered. Saphira extended her hand. Orion took it. Then— without giving the gesture a second thought— slid the ring onto her ring finger. Silence. Saphira froze. Her face immediately turned red. Damien stared. Then slowly covered his mouth. Orion looked between them.
"What?"
Damien's shoulders started shaking.
"What?"
Saphira stared at the ring. Orion frowned.
"Does it not fit?"
That broke Damien. He burst out laughing. Orion glared.
"What is wrong with you?"
Damien could barely breathe.
"Nothing."
He wiped his eyes.
"Absolutely nothing."
Orion looked toward Saphira.
"You okay?"
She nodded very quickly.
"Yes."
"You sure?"
"Yep."
She looked down again. Her fingers brushed the ring. A real smile appeared. Small. Warm. Free. Orion leaned back.
"Then welcome to the Eternal Flame."
Saphira whispered—
"Thank you."
Neither Orion nor Damien noticed the tiny spark of golden light that moved once beneath the ring. Then disappeared.
The Road
By sunrise, they were moving again. Three horses would have been easier. They had two. Saphira stood beside Orion's. Damien already sat comfortably on his own. Orion looked toward her.
"You can ride with me."
Damien immediately looked away. His shoulders shook again. Orion noticed.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You're doing it again."
"Doing what?"
"Being weird."
Damien grinned. Saphira climbed onto the horse behind Orion. Her arms hesitated. Then wrapped carefully around his waist. Orion stiffened slightly. Damien saw that too. His smile widened.
Orion pointed at him. "Not. One. Word."
Damien raised both hands.
"I didn't say anything."
They rode. Behind them— Lorianne was already responding.
Lorianne — Five Points Office
Morrison sat inside a Five Points office. His face remained pale. His clothes smelled faintly of smoke. An officer wrote while Morrison spoke.
"Three of them."
The officer looked up.
"Names?"
"Orion."
The pen stopped. Morrison didn't notice.
"Calls himself Eternal Flame."
The officer resumed writing.
"Second?"
"Damien."
"Known alias?"
Morrison scowled.
"Some gambler."
The officer considered it. Then wrote.
"Third?"
Morrison's expression twisted.
"Saphira."
"Affiliation?"
"Property."
The officer stopped writing. Morrison slammed his hand onto the desk.
"She belongs to me!"
The officer stared at him.
"That's not what I asked."
Morrison glared. The officer looked down again.
"Affiliation."
Morrison clenched his jaw.
"...Eternal Flame."
Within the hour— new posters entered circulation. First through Lorianne. Then surrounding towns. Then merchant routes. Fresh ink. Fresh faces. Fresh names.
WANTED
ORION
Alias: The Eternal Flame
DAMIEN
Alias: The Gambler
SAPHIRA
Status: Fugitive / Runaway Bondservant
Affiliation:
Eternal Flame
Reward: 50,000 Gold Each
DEAD OR ALIVE
Three riders disappeared over the horizon. Behind them— the world was beginning to watch. Damien had chosen someone he wanted to stand beside. Saphira had chosen freedom. And Orion— without realizing it— had begun building something people were willing to follow. The Eternal Flame was growing. And they were only getting started.