Lapis leaned against the creaking wooden wall of the runner, watching as grungy tiles, broken tech and exposed rocks whisked past, poorly illuminated by the lights attached to the sides.

The driver said that the wheels fed them energy, leaving the Rubaastide-modded vehicle engine to do its thing, and while she had no idea how the hook-up worked, the bulbs blazed bright enough she did not feel afraid in the otherwise pitch-dark environment.

She felt nauseous instead. They barreled down the rails, the platform rocking back and forth, the ceiling shifting at the turns. Her gorge rose, and she clamped down on the sensation to puke. It was one of the bumpiest modes of transportation she had encountered, and she did not look forward to the return trip. If this were the main way to get back and forth to Ambercaast, the planned Wolf seat of power, Midir needed to think hard about speeding up the building of smoother transport.

The Minq said they would refine the contraptions with help from the workstation, creating longer runners like the ruined boxcars in Underville; enclosed and safe enough. Lapis hoped ‘enclosed’ included windows, because bodies could easily fly through the open gaps between the posts.

Illumination from LX70 and several heads flared as they rounded yet another curve, then simmered into a soft cyan glow. They made their displeasure at the move known by erupting into angry buzzing while the centers of their foreheads whirled. Ghost reminded them of their pledge and if they broke their word, he would toss them in the nearest Ambercaast rubble pile and leave them to silence. They did not enjoy the reminder of their current state. They said LX70 would retrieve them, but after the warning, she chose to kneel, hands in lap, refusing to answer them.

The heads did not appreciate that, either.

Lapis careened into Patch as the platform jostled about, wincing as her injured shoulder protested. The heads clanked together and Ghost and Chiddle planted their hooves on the grooved metal so they did not bang into the benches bolted to the floor along the sides. LX70 snagged a pole that held up the ceiling, and while creaky, it held under her weight. Buzzing from the woken khentauree died, and an annoyed mechanical quiet descended.

She snuggled into her partner’s side; he leaned against the wall, elbows on the edges, unaffected by the nausea-inducing ride. He slid his arm around her shoulders with a wince. “Are you OK?” she asked, pulling back.

“This isn’t the best trip for my ribs,” he murmured quietly as his grip tightened and he dragged her back. She slipped her arms around him and pressed her nose into the cool leather of his coat.

“You should have taken more painkiller.” She had dosed herself into numbness and had not cared. She knew, by the time they reached the end of the tunnel in Ambercaast, her shoulder would throb without mercy.

“I suppose,” he said, his eye drifting to LX70. He hated that Ghost refused to bind her, and Chiddle agreed, but both caved when reminded that she was a military khentauree with invisibility capabilities and no reason to be nice if they embarrassed her.

The air brightened and grew chillier. Cassa said the makeshift depot was outdoors, the remains of an older, collapsed structure pushed to the side so the runners had a spot to drop passengers. Not that many took the underground route to the workstation, but during the snowy months, it was the only reliable one. The winds around Ambercaast made flight and above-ground transport dangerous, so if someone needed to get supplies or personnel from one place to the other, the old railway won by default.

She looked behind, but did not see the other runner’s lights. The delicate instruments Jhor packed needed careful handling, so crates filled with objects and padding kept the vehicle to a relative crawl. She did not envy them the longer time in the tunnels.

She also did not envy the Minq and terrons who patrolled it on a daily basis. What if their tech failed? There were no other sources to help them see.

The platform slowed as it topped the slope, crawled across the flatter ground, and came to a rocking halt just past the end of the tunnel. A barrier blocked the way forward, and people hastened to put blocks behind the wheels. Shoveled snow delineated the depot, encompassing the cluster of khentauree and humans waiting behind a rusted gate. Rugged wagons sat beyond them, what looked like bookshelves standing in the beds, yoked oxen puffing heavy mist into the air.

Such a strange mix of technology.

A khentauree opened the gate; Dov, and she thought those with them were mechanical beings she had met during her previous Ambercaast excursions. Black Hats and a scattering of workstation personnel stood with them, chatting idly as they held their gloved hands over their eyes to protect them from the tiny bits of snow blown by the wind. Tovi, dressed in thick fleece outwear and a hat with long flaps reared up, leaned against the top of the metal fencing and signed.

“She’s coming,” Patch called. “She’s riding with Jhor, Sanna, and the equipment. That runner took it slow.”

He winced.

“There will be plenty for you to carry,” Ghost assured him. His shoulders sagged, and Lapis did not blame him for the reaction. He wanted his mother, not a crate.

Honjora hustled to the platform and peeked inside after the driver opened the panel that served as a door and tied the handle to a hook to keep it that way. “I built nests in the wagons,” she said. “They each hold one khentauree, and should keep them safe from rocking. Where do you want them, Ghost? Cuddle Bear says he’s fine with them staying in his home.”

Cuddle Bear’s home was a gigantic barn the workstation constructed for him. It had no interior walls, so the crane-sized khentauree could move freely. Tech kept the place warm so LX70 and the heads would not have to worry about slowing due to cold.

“He is most gracious,” Ghost said. He paused, then nodded. “Cuddle Bear says he has made space to house the khentauree until we find them chassis. Let us go there.”

LX70 buzzed, and Chiddle swiveled his head to her. “Cuddle Bear is a terra-khent,” he said. The instant, worried response made Lapis wonder how often confrontations with the larger khentauree ended poorly for the smaller. If brutish Dreamer were any indication, they occurred often and with swift violence.

Her mind dove into those unwanted memories, and she swatted at them. Thank the Stars Cuddle Bear was nothing like the Cloister khentauree.

“Cuddle Bear is as his name implies,” Chiddle said. “He is not the large and vicious terra-khent, but kind and thoughtful. He is providing you a home when he does not have to.”

Tovi signed, and Patch laughed. “Well, he’s going to have more excitement than I bet he’s expecting. They may be heads, but they are a lively lot.” He winced and clutched his side.

Tovi raised his index claw, then fell on all fours and disappeared behind the crowd. He returned with a white frosted bottle, whisked through the gate and waited for them to disembark. He held it out to her partner and signed with his other hand.

“Did she?” Her partner sighed and took it. “Well, I do need it.” He held it up. “Cassa told him to bring something to dull the pain.”

“I took a few doses before we left the mansion, and I’m still feeling pummeled,” Lapis said, rubbing at her aching shoulder. She had hoped to spend that day in the suite, snuggling with her love and sleeping. Instead, they accompanied the heads because everyone else had other missions. Rebels often worked injured, and they carried on that tradition.

Patch tipped the medicine back and drank, not bothering to properly dose. From the liquid joshing about, he did not drink as much as his act implied. If he needed more, he could take another swig.

Tovi signed, and Patch cocked his head as he recapped the bottle. “Yeah?” Unease crossed the terron’s face as he continued to speak.

“What do you think they might do?” Patch asked.

“I don’t think they’ll do anything,” Honjora said as she hustled by with a head. “They’re a continent and an ocean away, but Tovi has a reason for concern. They haven’t been supportive.”

Lapis raised an eyebrow.

“Tovi says his grandparents contacted the workstation, worried about the news coming out of Dentheria and the skyshroud crash,” he said. “They want Cassa to come home, but home is the workstation, not Meergevenis. He says they were never happy that she adopted him, and he thinks they want her to leave him here at the Depths and return to Siindernorth.”

Lapis snorted. “That’s not going to happen,” she said. “Cassa loves you, Tovi, and she’ll do anything for you. You know that, and so do I. I watched her tear into Badger after he kidnapped you and Rin.” His eyes widened at the thought; Badger was not a terron humans should cross. “She won’t go back to Meergevenis. She’ll stay here with you.”

Tovi wobbled his head around and signed.

“He says they’re rich and can afford to cause trouble.”

“Jilvayna isn’t Meergevenis,” Lapis reminded him. “The markweza found that out quick enough.”

The terron snorted in laughter at the reminder.

“Besides, Lord Krios offered her an advisory role, and she accepted. She’s a member of the Wolf now, and kidnapping a foreign government official isn’t a wise choice.”

“And I’ll give you one guess as to how Dagby’ll react if anything happens to you or your mom,” Patch said.

Tovi paused, then nodded slowly before replying.

“Yeah, he cares about you both. You’re the reminder his life is better than it’s ever been, and the future holds promise, not darkness. I know you haven’t been around him as much, but he will be there for you, even though things are busy right now. He’s been acting the tough bodyguard for his granna while the Wolf gets settled.” Patch half-laughed as the teen turned his attention to her and signed. “He’s asking if you’re OK.”

She smiled as tears pricked her eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she said. “I wasn’t planning on saying what I said, but I guess I made an impression.”

Tovi responded, and Patch nudged her. “He says you had most of the workstation in tears, Black Hats included.”

Before she grumbled a response, the flash of lights from the second runner signaled its arrival. They backed away as attendants rushed to it with the blocks; Cassa jumped out before it stopped, nearly knocking them over as she ran to Tovi. He stood on his back legs and they hugged, radiating joy.

He pulled back and signed. Cassa laughed.

“Yes, you are going to help cart equipment. Don’t think you’re getting out of it that easy.” Her bright smile dwindled into a frown. “Did they.” She took a deep breath, her mouth pulling down in disgust. “I told them we were never going back to Meergevenis unless something came up at the institute. Our life and my research are here.” She hugged him again. “Don’t worry, sweetie. They’re not worth the concern.” She kissed his cheek. “Now come on. We have a lot of stuff to unload, then we can talk.”

Lapis was not certain whether she should thank the group at the depot for sending her and Patch ahead by foot, or grumble about them babying them due to injury. True, lifting the heavier stuff was impossible, but khentauree heads were not that weighty.

Why complain? Warmth awaited her.

Cuddle Bear’s barn sat on a plot of land the workstation owned, and had grown in size since her last visit. The defensive cement wall now bulged out and around the silver-sided building, which looked more like a warehouse than its previous farm incarnation.

How did they heat the ginormous thing?

She knocked politely on the human-sized metal door decorated with an evergreen wreath wrapped in bright silver ribbons. It opened, and a wave of heat smothered her. A khentauree she did not recognize swung their arms, indicating they could enter.

“Thank you.” She stepped inside and sighed, tipping her head back. “I’m Lanth and this is Patch.”

“I am Oura. It means ‘Flower’ in Taangin because I love flowers.”

“I’m happy to meet you, Oura.”

“Take care not to trip on equipment,” the khentauree said. “There are many wires and attachments and tubes to fix for Cuddle Bear’s chassis, and they clutter the floor.”

“Still not done yet?”

“No, because the damage was severe. But he is mobile, so it is not so bad.” They flexed their fingers. “He can use his hands. For him, that is what he cares about. He did not move around much when he lifted things for the mine owners. He has wheels now, so he is active in a way he has never been.”

“Where are you going to put the khentauree?”

“They will sit on tables in the living room. They will feel included even if they cannot move. Ghost cautions that they are grumpy. I would be grumpy too, if humans ripped me from my chassis or rigged it to explode.”

Patch chuckled at their exasperation. “When you put it that way, it’s obvious. Just be cautious of LX70. I don’t know how willing she is to uphold her pledge to Ghost. She keeps prodding at it.”

Oura clicked. “She should not kick Ghost. He will kick back, and his hooves are deadlier. Come come. Ghost says you are hurt. You will sit and let the heat soothe you.”

The short, functional entry led to the long hall the khentauree called the living room. Cuddle Bear’s chassis filled the center floor, wires and tubes and plates set on trays surrounding it. Several tables filled with tech gadgets stood to the right, crammed between load-bearing supports. Screens and larger devices filled the walls, and the air hummed with electric power.

Tables with padded woven baskets sat behind couches and large mats on the eastern side, facing a giant screen that spanned the wall. Pots with plants sat everywhere, some typical flowers to decorate the space in a myriad of colors, some vegetables and fruits. Did they grow food for the workstation? Whether they did or not, the air had a wet, fresh quality, which she thought odd; Jhor mentioned modding worked better in drier environments, which was why the tech room at the mansion was in the basement. If they focused on chassis repair, should it not be arid?

In front of the entertainment space, Cuddle Bear spoke with a human wearing a blacksmith’s apron. The black metal reinforcement plates still adorned his arms, so they must not have enough khentauree material to fix the damage. The rest of his torso shone with grey metallic intensity.

His waist fit snug in a wide, white drum with wheels, making him as tall as a three-story building. He wore a headscarf made from bright tropical blue fabric with a sunset yellow design, the large knot tied at his left ear. He also sported two enormous blue hoops in his lobes. Did all khentauree love eye-catching colors? Both he and Path enjoyed them, and Sanna made comments about drapey items she thought would look nice as a scarf or headwrap.

“Lanth and Patch are here,” Oura called. The two in discussion turned, and the scientist hurried over. He had gelled, greying, shoulder-length, sandy brown hair, a narrow head with a long nose and a stout chin. Beads of sweat rolled into his bushy brows and down his pale, golden-brown cheeks, attesting to the heat within the structure.

“I don’t think we’ve met,” he said, pushing his thin-framed glasses up his nose. “I’m Drafen. Jo Ban hired me to mod the Minq tech, and now I’m working with the khentauree.” He shook his head and laughed. “When I first started working with Sils, I never dreamed I’d be modding mechanical beings.”

“With Sils, the unexpected keeps popping up,” Patch said as they shook hands. His grin widened as he motioned to the couches.

“Don’t I know it! Have a seat. The cushions are comfy enough to sleep on when you’ve spent most of the night trying to figure out why a joint won’t charge. And, as you’ve noticed, the place is well-heated.”

“I’m all for that,” Lapis said. “Hello, Cuddle Bear. Thank you for housing the other khentauree.”

“I know what it’s like, to not have a chassis,” he said, patting the drum. His voice was calm and low, though she knew, from experience, when he shouted, pain followed. “There are many, Ghost says.”

“There are. We rescued an etak, then dozens of khentauree modded with explosives. I hope we can find a fort that still has working chassis. There’s so many that need one.”

“We’ve been thinking of ways to bypass the typical designs,” Drafen said. “Not all khentauree want a wheeled device like Cuddle Bear has. If we could mod damaged chassis into two legs instead of four for interim wearing, that would help, but the torsos are meant to attach to a four-legged body, so there are issues to overcome with their programming before that’s viable.”

“That sounds complicated,” Lapis said.

“It is, but there’s precedent. I’ve been studying the books Jhor loaned me. It’s fascinating, how many types of chassis the Meergevens created. They restricted exports, and I wonder how they decided which ones to send abroad and which to keep at home. And it appears their military had secret research into khentauree who looked and acted human enough to fool people into believing them alive.” He shrugged. “Like that’s hard to do. We love giving human traits to everything we encounter.”

She plopped onto the nearest couch; soft, fuzzy, comfy. She sank back and sighed. “How badly deteriorated do you think the chassis in other forts are?”

“Hmm. Depends on many factors. Storage conditions, if they had khentauree caring for them, stuff like that.”

“Chassis deteriorate without upkeep,” Cuddle Bear said, tapping the plates on his arms. “Parts abandoned in boxes I do not think are viable. And if a fort still has guards and soldiers, they will not want to part with their chassis supply. Why would they?”

“What are the chances the khentauree at a particular fort accept ones fleeing from another?” Patch asked as he flumped next to her.

“Programming dictates everything for khentauree who have not grown. They are programmed to accept khentauree who retreat, so they would open their doors and allow them in. That does not mean they will give them replacement parts or provide upkeep. That would depend on their code, and if their code does not demand they share, they will not.” Cuddle Bear adjusted the headscarf. “They may fight for the parts, each unit following their programming.”

Her partner opened the bottle and took another swig of the painkiller. Worry settled; how badly did he hurt? He needed to take better care of himself, and she silently promised to needle him about it. He replaced the cap and looked at Cuddle Bear. “I have the impression Gedaavik didn’t work much with military khentauree.”

“Only when they retired to the mines. He worked with businesses, not the military, though the military used his thoughts in development. He did not like that, but it was too late to withdraw his published papers.”

Lapis folded her hands over her tummy, her mind whirling. “So finding hidden forts that don’t have extant khentauree won’t solve our problem.”

“It’s why I’ve suggested returning to Torc Bedan,” Drafen said quietly.

Squirrels and butterflies made a valiant play for supremacy in the pit of her stomach. “Because you think it’s empty?”

“Yes. As far as we can tell, the khentauree abandoned all resources when they fled. It’s questionable whether Celem understands the significance of the fort, but if he does, he’s doing nothing to secure it. The Lords’ Council just called soldiers back to Alesha, and from Minq reports, several outlying, older forts only have maintenance crews. Other syndicates will take advantage if we don’t.”

Wondrous.

“We might have a lead on the Bedan khentauree,” Patch said. “The source is usually unreliable, but there’s no reason for them to have made up this report. They’re in Jilvayna, but whether they’re heading for a torc here or in Abastion, we don’t know.”

“Ghost has wondered if, perhaps, Ambercaast and its mines have information regarding Jilvaynan forts,” Drafen said. “They received a lot of shipments of khentauree retired from military service. There may be invoices or ledgers lying in cabinets somewhere about where they originated. Nathala has researchers going through old terron documents, too. There aren’t many because the mine owners would destroy journals and writings if they found them, but there are some. Whether they have any relevant information is questionable, but a stray sentence might end up helping.”

“Gedaavik’s old labs might be a better source,” Lapis said. Considering what his secret rooms in the Cloister held, she anticipated a treasure trove of material, if still readable.

“We search,” Oura said. “But he hid the labs from all eyes, even ours. It frustrates us, but we know, that was better than having the mine owners discover them.”

“How many mines did he work for?” Lapis asked.

“Officially, only Caast, but he made deals under the table with other owners. Unofficially, he entered all the mines and helped the khentauree.” They set a hand on their chest and straightened. “I am from Ustenaadaker. Double Tunnels. It is a mine south of the river. It was small, and the owner was smaller. Her family abandoned us when Taangis withdrew. The other owners looted it, but Ghost took us in, and the Depths took the terrons in, so they did not find us. We continued to hide for many centuries, but now we see sunlight again.”

“So there are a lot of places to look.”

“Yes,” they said. “We must unblock tunnels and shore ceilings as we search. It is long work, it is hard work.”

“Better slow than crushed,” Lapis murmured. “Is Caast the only place khentauree live in Ambercaast?”

“Yes. We grouped for security, and Ghost is leader. He has always been leader. We kept Caast tunnels clear for we used Caast tunnels, but we did not worry about other mines. We took what we could from them after the Dentherions destroyed the city, and left them to silence. It was not safe to do anything else.”

As she had seen the results of the empire’s handiwork, Lapis understood not wanting to attract attention.

Another human entered the building without knocking, bundled up in a woolen coat and heavy pants. She stomped the snow from her boots, slid her goggles up her forehead, and shuffled inside. “Sorry to interrupt, but Drafen, Cuddle Bear, do you have a p-flue? The one hooked to Fraze’s breathing apparatus is going.”

Fraze. Lapis shuddered; she had not thought about him since they rescued him from the mercs at Torc Bedan and resented the reminder.

“He’s not dead yet?” Patch asked, his nonchalant tone unable to hide the glint of anger in his eye.

She shook her head. “No. We’re hoping he recovers enough to speak, but I’m skeptical he’ll wake back up.” She tapped her head. “Too much damage, and we don’t have a sophisticated medical setup here.” She sighed as Drafen walked to her, holding a gadget with two round, metal mouths connected by a pipe and surrounded by a pleated, transparent bag. “But there are others on the team who point to improvements in brain activity. It’s a waiting game, though I suspect we’re on the losing end.”

“Is his family still planning on taking him back to Meergevenis?” Drafen asked.

“As far as I know. They can’t get an evac Swift in here due to the winds, but when the weather improves and the snow melts, I’m betting his institution will send a craft to get him.” She rolled her eyes. “Apparently the markweza’s little jaunt is now a scandal there, somewhat overshadowed by what’s going on in Dentheria. The news is obsessed with him being on the skyshroud that crashed into the Jiy palace, which somehow makes him associated with Celem, and the tales the scientists and students have told upon their return are stoking the fires of outrage.”

Lapis snorted. What the bored clamped onto, to alleviate the drag of their days, should never surprise her. “Oh, I’m sure.”

The scientist laughed. “It’s been interesting to watch. Velensaans has tried to blame Degaavis, saying he led the research and everything went to shit because of his underhanded dealings, while also claiming the honorable and generous Markweza Eldekaarsen was a victim of Bov Caardinva and Gredy and not his own greed. Since neither the markweza nor Degaavis are around to contradict him, that view’s gaining traction. Reyanne’s inserted herself into every interview she can, blaming everyone but herself for what happened. The students have a lot of interesting tidbits about those running the research and the mercs hired to protect them, and they don’t have a career they need to save by lying.

“While the scandal has most Meergevens enchanted, they’re also shocked so many students died doing supposedly non-dangerous fieldwork. The news has caught the scientific community by surprise, and the institutions that sent them are scrambling to explain why they signed off on it. After all, someone had to approve the research, and they should have realized the danger.” She raised an eyebrow. “Reyanne’s been using you as a villain and claiming you’ve promised to kill her. Reporters think she’s sensationalizing, but Lady Lanth is now a name people know.”

She pursed her lips, annoyed. “Seems she’s as opportunistic as ever. She handed my apprentice and the khentauree over to mercs to save her own skin. For her cowardice, I staked her. I told her, after her kids were grown, that stake would be fulfilled. I don’t know by whom, but she’s a walking corpse. She’s lucky I’m giving her that much grace. She doesn’t deserve it.”

The scientist hmphed. “I don’t think any of them deserve it—or at least those in charge. The assistants had no clue, and I feel terrible for the grad students. They were supposed to complete routine field work in a safe environment, and so many ended up injured and dead. It’s traumatic enough, I doubt many will pursue positions in their field. All that time, money, investment, gone.”

“The lies and evil the power-hungry will indulge in to get what they want,” Patch muttered. “It started with Eldekaarsen wanting an army of khentauree, and you can’t tell me Velensaans and Degaavis and their closest assistants didn’t know that.”

“They knew,” she agreed. “If you watch the interviews, you can tell they exploited students and kept more ethical researchers in the dark.”

More ethical? How many missed them tearing into khentauree torsos and implanting the spheres? Lapis understood Reyanne modding the mechanical beings because mercs held her family hostage in the Shivers mine, but that did not justify her previous actions at Ambercaast.

“We’ve been taking notes, too. Kathandra hopes they’ll let something slip that will benefit us.” She lifted the gadget. “And I need to get back to my patient. Thanks, and take care. The winds are picking up.” She re-donned the goggles, pulled the fluffy hood low and tugged the strings so her nose peeked out but nothing else, then hastened back out the door.

It immediately re-opened and Cassa rushed in, Tovi on her heels. “LX70 disappeared,” she shouted.