Slipping back out of the city had been relatively easy. Once persuaded to go along, Tasin could move from shadow to shadow. Shona made her way through the sewers. Namil and Kogar had enough experience at stealth to avoid the patrols and make it to the outskirts. They rendezvoused at a fork in the road, which Kogar thought seemed appropriate.

“There will probably be guards at the site,” he said when they were all assembled.

“So we take them out,” Namil replied. When he saw Kogar’s expression, he snapped, “What? We’re breaking the law just by being together. Knocking a few heads together is going to make it worse?”

Mota would have seen it as a challenge. How many could he put down before they even thought to draw their weapons? It would have been a laugh to him. Most things about being a hero were.

Kogar shook the memory off. There was a way to handle this that didn’t involve violence, or so he hoped. Whatever they did, it was going to have to be done quietly. If they roused the authorities too soon, they would never get the chance to investigate or anything else. Too many already saw exile as an unjustifiably lenient punishment.

“Tasin, slip around the perimeter. Let yourself be seen, but only in glimpses. That should distract the guards. Shona –”

“I do not need to be told what to do,” Shona cut in. “I will be prompt. Being too close to those people sickens me.”

The two disappeared on their respective missions. Kogar and Namil could only wait until they knew if action was called for. Kogar had trained himself over the years to be patient. Namil had never bothered.

“If they get spotted?”

“They’ll vanish,” Kogar answered. “No one will believe the guards. After all this time, no one thinks we’re still around. Just like Shona, we’re myths now.”

“We’ll probably wish we’d stayed that way,” said Namil. “Get something straight. I’m here because of that kid. I don’t give a toss what happens to that city or anyone in it. Mota died for them, I lost an arm, and they spat on us.”

“I know. But I sometimes wonder … if we had been on the outside looking in, would we have felt the same way?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What if they were always a little bit afraid, even when they cheered us and shouted our names? We were different, we were more powerful, and more, they had started to depend on us. After a while, people start to resent whatever they have to depend upon.”

Namil shrugged. “So okay. So now I resent them back.”

Any further discussion was cut off by the return of Shona and Tasin. It was impossible to tell what Tasin was feeling, but Shona looked rattled.

“What had you heard, Namil?” she asked.

“Me? The kid was out doing chores and didn’t come back. Only thing weird at the site was some little  white rocks, they said, but nobody wanted to go near them.”

“There are no rocks,” Shona said. “But you need to see.”

She led them up to the top of a hill that overlooked the area. Kogar focused his eyepieces to get a better view. And what he saw sent him back a step.

Shona was right. At the site of Mina’s disappearance, the site of their last battle as a team, there were not rocks scattered about. Instead, there were spires of stark white growing from the ground, parallel to each other. He counted 48 on either side.

At first glance, he could see why someone might think they were some kind of rock formation, natural or not. But he had the disquieting feeling that he was not looking at stone … he was looking at bone.

Something was rising from this earth. Something was coming back.

And, with horror, he suddenly knew what it was.