Lucimia froze at Bevi’s words, mind wiped clean like fresh snow, then her brow drew tight like a bowstring.

“Hmph,” she said, the sound a small blade in frost. “Sure, noble people exist, and I respect them, but I don’t believe you’re one. I can’t tell if you’ll frame me, like a knife behind a curtain. I’m not noble either; everyone chases their own star. What I seek doesn’t topple anyone’s house or shake the world’s river, so I’m not wrong.”

“That’s not caution,” Bevi sighed, breath like mist against stone. “That’s paranoia, mold spreading in a damp room. The more you feed it, the quicker corruption finds you.”

“Think about it. First plan,” he said, raising one finger like a lantern in dusk. “I told you it had variables. If I wanted to lie, I’d paint the whole city bright and say everyone lived.”

“Second plan,” his second finger rose like a second lantern. “Let Rexi fight, not you. If you only want intel, win or lose, you can devour her memories. Just bring Rexi there. Don’t forget—the rat swarm trails you like a cloak.”

“Third plan,” his last finger clicked up like flint. “Only I’m the one who pays. You just befriend Rexi so she’s got a voice in this world, a candle in a window. That doesn’t touch you, right?”

“You’re overthinking,” he added, voice like a steady drum. “Even if it’s a setup, it hurts Nirael, not you. These ways keep you off the field. You only need to lead the way like a guidepost. After, you can still devour Nirael’s intel. Dealing with Ment won’t need your blade.”

Words poured out of Bevi like a river over stones. He’d grasped Lucimia’s wants and laid things bare like a map on a table: no effort, no sacrifice, just show the road.

He feared she’d devour his intel, then use the Devouring Authority to wash off the rat swarm’s mark like rain erasing chalk, and walk away, leaving Ment to win.

He only wanted Lucimia to carry the rat swarm to the Royal Capital, to set them at the gate like a courier, then others could do the rest, and she could vanish like morning mist after devouring the intel.

Lucimia nodded, a reed bending in wind, seeming to accept, but her voice stayed hard as iron. “You make sense, but why should I help you? There’s a fourth door right here—why not open that instead of your three? Are we close, like tea shared at dawn? I should just devour you. If your memory lacks what I want, I’ll devour your ability too and hunt the trail myself.”

Irritation prickled under her skin like nettles in rain. All she wanted was to devour the intel now, then devour every shred of the Time Ability User’s power, like a hawk stooping on prey.

Everything else could burn like dry straw.

“You…” Bevi stared, shock spreading like cracks in ice. “Do you think you’re any different from a Dark Deity right now?”

“Me? A Dark Deity?” Lucimia laughed, brittle as glass in winter. Then her voice rolled out, a storm spilling from a ridge. “First, I haven’t massacred innocents, and I haven’t soaked up energy like those things. Second, my state is Nirael’s gift: she had me bring the rat swarm to Wasan Village to eat innocents, ink deepening in clear water. My friend died in the valley, and the wind there doubled my corruption. Nirael owes me, a debt weighed on scales, even damages for my mind. I didn’t chase her over it; I chose to leave and stop helping. That’s mercy already, a hand held back from the hilt. And you still want my unconditional help? Do you think the sky will kneel?”

Her tone cut like a cold blade, and wisps of black shadow coiled off her like smoke from quenched iron.

Bevi swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing like a pebble in a stream, and he caught the heart of it at last. She’d been merciful; she’d done her part, asked for no payment, took no revenge, and walked away, a traveler closing the gate. She wasn’t wrong, and he had no ground. Forcing her to act for him was arrogance, a crown he didn’t deserve, and she was far stronger, a mountain over a hill.

He accepted it, shoulders sinking like sails in a dying wind. He’d mistaken her—and himself—and Nirael as the same kind, three stones from one quarry.

He hadn’t known Nirael had dealt with her through threats and barter, a knife wrapped in silk, which meant Nirael had been cornered like a fox.

“Forget it,” Bevi breathed, his sigh a leaf falling. “Whatever.”

He’d have to find another road through the thorns of Nirael and Ment, like a traveler skirting a cliff.

Lucimia snorted, a spark in cold ash, and lifted her palm, the gesture a blade rising. Black shadow uncurled from her hand like ink up a wick and drifted for Bevi’s head.

Bevi shut his eyes, standing still as a stone, ready for the devouring. His mind raced like storm birds. Without Lucimia, how could he still aid Nirael against Ment? If nothing else worked, he’d send Rexi to fight, a small torch against the wind. But without a handler, the energy-soaked rat swarm couldn’t reach the Royal Capital, and Nirael’s strength would wither like frost-bitten vines.

A headache thudded behind his eyes, a drum in a cave.

The shadow neared, a tide kissing the shore, and just as it was about to touch, a voice rang from afar like a bell through fog.

“Wait—wait! Lucimia! Don’t eat him!”

The voice was familiar, lively with a tremor, like a sparrow fluttering in rain. Lucimia turned, and saw Rexi with a rolled blanket tucked under her arm, hopping hurdles like a kid over puddles, sprinting toward them.

Lucimia’s hand stilled, a sword held at the final inch.

Rexi skidded in, the blanket tumbling like a loosened bundle, and bent double, hands on knees, breath heaving like bellows. “I’m—so—tired…”

Silence hung a moment like dew, until Rexi’s breath steadied, and she popped up with eyes bright as wet stones. “Hey, Lucimia, don’t eat him. He’s got no meat—bad flavor. And if you eat him, I’ve got no one to talk to! Also, why are you fighting? Aren’t you the same kin?!”

Bevi kept quiet, his glance passing to Lucimia like reins to a rider.

Lucimia thought a beat, thoughts circling like crows, then asked, “How did you find us here?”

“Oh, that,” Rexi sang, grin like sunshine after rain. “I’ve got a special way to know where Bevi is!”

“Your Authority Power?” Lucimia asked, words cool as a spring.

“Yep! Awesome, right?” Rexi puffed up, chest swelling like a proud cat.

That tugged at Lucimia’s mind like a hook in water. A nullifying Authority Power that could find people? That shouldn’t fly, like a fish climbing a tree. So what is her Authority Power, really?

She let the curiosity settle like dust, then pulled the talk back onto the road. “I’m not Bloodkin. I lied to you. We fought because…”