Mezzo hit the turn like a fired bullet.
One second the polar bear Radiant was lumbering through the cloister path, robes snapping in the wind—
the next Mezzo was in front of her, boots skidding, arms out just enough to block the way.
“Whoa there, Snowball,” he said lightly, axe already in hand. “We need a word.”
Topsy popped out of the hedges a heartbeat later, tail bristling, eyes bright and feral.
“Several words. Preferably the truth-shaped ones.”
The Radiant froze.
Up close, she didn’t look holy.
She looked tired. Sweaty. Cornered.
“You shouldn’t be here,” the polar bear said, breath fogging. “You don’t understand what you’ve walked into.”
Mezzo tilted his head. “Funny. People keep saying that right before explaining everything.”
Topsy hopped onto a low stone bench, arms crossed. “Start talking before I start improvising.”
The Radiant swallowed.
“…It was Crystal.”
That landed like a dropped plate.
“She made the gryphon,” the Radiant rushed on, panic breaking through her composure. “Brought it here. She wanted it to attack you—wanted witnesses. Wanted proof that the Knights of Clawdiff are reckless. Dangerous. That the Church shouldn’t be backing you.”
Topsy’s ears flattened. “That’s—no. That’s stupid.”
“She’s been collecting materials for weeks,” the Radiant insisted, fumbling at her robes and producing a small data-slate. “Runes, relic fragments, candy catalysts. I thought it was sanctioned—Luminarch business. But she’s desperate. If the Church drops you as sponsors, she looks responsible. Loyal. Clean.”
Mezzo took the slate, scrolling fast.
“…This does look bad,” he muttered.
The files were there. Coordinates. Inventory logs. A partial ritual schematic. Crystal’s name stamped across more than one access point.
Sketchy.
Too sketchy.
They dragged the Radiant back to the garden at speed.
—
Celeste stared at the slate, ears slowly lowering.
“No,” she said quietly. “That doesn’t make sense. Crystal’s… she’s nervous, but she’s not cruel. She came to us for help.”
“She could be playing you,” Hughes said grimly, leaning over her shoulder. “The evidence is solid, Celeste.”
Pitch nodded, jaw tight. “I don’t like it, but this isn’t sloppy. Someone planned this.”
Skye tugged gently at Celeste’s sleeve.
She looked down. “Skye?”
He wouldn’t meet her eyes.
“She’s lying,” he said.
The words were small. Certain.
Celeste blinked. “How can you tell?”
Skye’s ears twitched back. He hesitated—then shook his head, gaze fixed on the shattered tiles.
“…Just trust me.”
That gave Celeste pause.
Hughes exchanged a look with Pitch. Both of them frowned.
“You sure, kid?” Pitch asked, softer than usual.
Skye nodded once. Hard.
Topsy planted herself in front of Celeste, paws on hips. “Nope. I’m calling it. This smells wrong.”
Hughes frowned. “Topsy—”
“No,” Topsy shot back. “This is too neat. Too convenient. And blaming the one hybrid knight trying to do the right thing? That’s not coincidence, that’s a setup.”
Celeste’s grip tightened on the slate.
“I don’t want to decide this without hearing from her,” she said. “If Crystal did this, she’ll say it to my face. And if she didn’t—”
She looked up, eyes bright and stubborn.
“—then we’re about to let someone disappear because it’s easier than asking questions.”
Silence.
Then Hughes exhaled slowly. “Stars help me, I hate that you’re right.”
Pitch sighed. “Of course you are.”
Skye finally looked up—relief flickering across his face.
Topsy grinned sharp and dangerous. “Good. Then let’s go find her.”
Silver and the others caught up at a near-jog.
Or, in Silver’s case, something approaching a near-jog with considerable resentment.
He reached them first, one hand braced against the cracked garden wall, the other lifted as if he meant to make a point.
“I—” he began.
Nothing followed.
He inhaled.
Tried again.
“Commander, there has been—”
He stopped, chest rising and falling, dignity fighting a losing battle against lungs that had not signed up for fieldwork.
Hughes looked him up and down.
Then laughed.
“Oh, stars. He really does need to work on that.”
Silver glared at him, still trying to breathe. “I beg—”
“Cardio is important, lad.”
Silver held up one finger. “I will have you know—”
Lumina burst in beside him, flapping her hands so fast her sleeves fluttered.
“Crystal is in trouble!”
Everyone turned.
Lumina’s words tumbled out in one breath. “The priest with the big ears threatened her in a hallway, and then there was a noise, and now she’s gone, and now paladins are chasing us.”
Celeste went very still. “What?”
Silver finally forced enough breath back into his body to speak. “That is… unfortunately accurate.”
A shout echoed from the corridor behind them.
Several paladins rounded the corner, armour flashing white and gold.
Lumina’s eyes went wide.
“Yeep.”
Ray appeared from the opposite archway a heartbeat later, skidding to a stop with Heartbreaker half-summoned. Arcade darted in from another passage, C.H.I.P. flickering in and out above his shoulder in little bursts of green static.
“Well,” Arcade said, breathless, “good news. Their security is very upset.”
The lead paladin strode forward, spear grounded hard against the stone.
“You are trespassing in a restricted section.”
Ray snapped, “We heard a disturbance.”
“You were ordered to leave.”
“Our Knight-Commander has authority to investigate you idiot,” Ray said, eyes blazing. “Missing people. Stolen relics. Secret stone noises. That all sounds sus to me.”
The paladin looked past her.
Celeste stepped forward.
Small.
Muddy.
Still clutching her swords.
The paladin’s jaw tightened. “Knight-Commander Astallan was not present when the trespass occurred.”
Celeste blinked.
Then, very suddenly, her face lit up.
“Oh! I know this one.”
Everyone stared at her.
Celeste fumbled in her bag and pulled out a small, battered book with tabs sticking from the pages in several colours. She flipped through it quickly, tongue poking out in concentration.
Silver stared. “Is that—”
“Rules,” Celeste said.
Arcade whispered, “She has a rulebook.”
Mezzo whispered back, “Why is that terrifying?”
Celeste found the page, cleared her throat, and straightened.
When she spoke, her voice was careful, formal, and far more serious than usual.
“Under the Emergency Continuity and National Preservation Act, Section Twelve, Subsection Four, any authorised emergency unit operating under order of a sitting Caedrix may investigate all credible leads pertaining to the origin, escalation, management, or exploitation of a national crisis, including but not limited to plague, invasion, magical corruption, domestic sabotage, and mass civilian endangerment.”
The paladins went very still.
Celeste continued, eyes flicking between the page and them.
“Such investigation shall not be impeded by religious, civic, military, private, or noble authority unless countermanded directly by the issuing Caedrix or a tribunal convened under emergency session.”
Silver’s mouth fell slightly open.
Celeste turned the page.
“All knowledge gathered under such investigation is to be considered protected evidence. Unauthorised seizure, destruction, alteration, suppression, or attempted confiscation of said evidence is to be regarded as obstruction of emergency governance and may, where intent is established, be prosecuted as treason.”
Silence.
Deep.
Horrified.
Wonderful.
Celeste lifted her arcbracer, thumb hovering over Umbranox’s contact.
“So,” she said politely, “should I inform Lady Umbranox that the clause has been breached, or would you prefer to wait until the tribunal?”
The lead paladin’s eyes flicked to the book.
Then to Celeste’s arcbracer.
Then to Silver.
Silver was still breathing hard, but his expression had sharpened into absolute astonishment.
The paladin lowered his spear by an inch.
“This is unnecessary.”
Celeste nodded seriously. “Oh good. Then please stop trying to confiscate things and chasing my friends.”
Another beat.
The paladin stepped back.
“Proceed,” he said through clenched teeth. “But stay within authorised routes.”
Celeste smiled. “Thank you. We will.”
The paladins withdrew with stiff, furious discipline.
Only when their footsteps faded did anyone move.
Ray stared at Celeste like she had just breathed fire backwards.
Arcade looked personally offended by how effective paperwork had been.
Mezzo’s jaw was slack.
Hughes blinked twice, then muttered, “Well, I’ll be damned.”
Silver finally found his voice.
“That,” he said, still slightly out of breath, “was… impressive.”
Celeste’s shoulders relaxed all at once.
She beamed.
“Yay. I did it right.” She tucked the little book safely back into her bag. “Voss’s advice worked. He gave me a handy-dandy book of rules.”
Arcade pointed at the bag. “That book just threatened treason.”
“It has tabs,” Celeste said proudly.
Silver stared at her, gobsmacked in a way no charm could cover. “Of course it has tabs.”
Celeste clapped her hands once, brightening with sudden purpose.
“Right. Now let’s get back to the task at hand.”
Ray shook herself first, snapping back into focus. “Right. Fun as watching Celeste legally mug paladins was—we’ve got evidence. Relics have been missing for twenty years. Every one Kymara-related. And it really ramped up a few years back.”
Celeste’s ears dipped. “A Radiant just told us Crystal was to blame.”
Silver’s expression sharpened at once. “No. Crystal confronted the priests. Then she disappeared.”
Celeste went still.
“Oh.”
Arcade folded his arms, sparks flickering faintly around his claws. “My money’s on a secret door.”
Topsy gasped, eyes enormous. “Ooooh. Like a spy movie.”
Arcade glanced at her.
Then, despite everything, smiled faintly. “I love the world you live in sometimes.”
Celeste inhaled, gathering the threads before they scattered.
“Right,” she said. “Then we go look for her. Or, at the very least, try not to ruffle any plate mail while we do it.”
Mezzo burst out laughing.
“Try not to ruffle any plate mail?” he wheezed. “Cel, that is the poshest way anyone has ever said ‘don’t annoy the armed church folk.’”
Celeste flushed. “It made sense in my head.”
Topsy turned slowly to Mezzo, eyes huge.
Then, with complete sincerity, she whispered, “But seriously. That was so cool and commandery.”
Mezzo nodded, equally solemn.
“So commandery.”
Celeste blushed. “Please don’t make that a word.”
“It’s already a word,” Topsy said.
“It is now,” Mezzo agreed.
And then they ran.
