Kit’s face lit up with glee as she shrugged out of her coat. Her weapons were in the satchel, and she rapidly equipped herself with saber, blaster pistol, and an alarming number of knives.

Gyre retrieved his own sword, the hilt tingling under his fingers, and the pack with spare energy bottles. Another small pack full of alchemicals hung beside it, along with a small folding crossbow. Last but not least was the arcana trigger Sarah had given him. It was a square of unmetal about the size of a sheet of paper, half an inch thick and rounded at the edges. On the face were a dozen depressions, three of which were filled by hexagonal crystals.

What this bit of Chosen arcana had been originally, Gyre had no idea, but Sarah’s tweaks had transformed it into a weapon. A metal grille, crude compared to the smooth perfection of Chosen work, had been fitted over the three crystals to keep anyone from touching them accidentally. Sarah had showed him how to unlatch it and press the trigger with his thumb.

“You’re sure it’ll work?” he’d asked her.

“Of course not.” She’d rolled her eyes at him. “I can’t exactly test it, can I? I know that when you press the crystal, the trigger part makes a spark big enough to light a fuse. Other than that, we just have to hope.”

Now Gyre stared at the thing for a moment, then tucked it into his belt. It’ll work. Sarah knows what she’s doing.

“Ready?” Kit said, bouncing eagerly on the balls of her feet. The prospect of action seemed to have restored her darkened spirits.

Gyre picked up the crossbow, slotted a bolt, and cocked it with an effort. “Ready.”

Kit skipped ahead, pausing at the corner of the hedge. Gyre followed more cautiously, and she straightened up and whispered to him.

“Four guards. Auxies.”

Gyre grimaced. That was more than he’d hoped, but it made sense. “Too many to take without someone shouting for help.”

“Time for the distraction, then.” Kit’s grin was feral. “Do it.”

Gyre knelt in the dirt and pulled out the trigger. He undid the latch on the grille, flipped it up, and hesitated only briefly before pressing his finger against the first crystal.

There was a delay of perhaps a second. Then a spectacular boom shattered the quiet of the palace grounds. Even this far away, Gyre felt the blast as a thump in his chest and a shiver running through his shoes. Whatever Lynnia had put into the bomb, it had been a monster. He imagined bits of wagon and toasted fruit blasted high into the air, raining down across the drive and spattering the palace. After a few seconds more, a thick column of black smoke developed, rising lazily into the sky.