Cinder Fall occupied one of the beds in their dorm room at Beacon while her henchmen, as usual, sat on the floor. Emerald's posture was uncertain and pensive. Mercury's posture betrayed how much he was still hurting due to Opher's attack.

"You not only failed to kill this person," Cinder began, her voice hardly above a whisper, "but now he knows my name."

Mercury raised his hand. "In my defense, when he called you I barely knew what kingdom I was in. Secrecy was not the first thing on my mind." A bitter glare from Cinder forced his arm back down.

"Sometimes I wonder what is on your mind, Mercury." Her fiery eyes landed on Emerald, who shrank with fear.

She didn't speak immediately. Instead, Cinder waited, watching her subordinate squirm harder with every passing moment. When she opened her mouth at last, her words were ice. "Why did I listen to you?"

All Emerald had to give was a frightened smile and terrified stare. "I was just trying to be, you know, proactive," she stated weakly. "It seemed like a loose end we'd have to tie up eventually."

"Of course. After all, what is one more body on our little pile?" Cinder snapped her eyes back to Mercury. "A body you failed to deliver."

"Next time I'll kick harder." A bolt of agony shot through his skull as he moved his head. "Agh! Can I go to bed, please?"

She crossed her arms and peered at him. "When I'm done with you," she stated, her words tainted with bitter cruelty.

"I mean, he was pretty clear about being left alone, right?" Emerald asked herself this more than her leader. "Maybe it goes both ways. We just keep our distances from each other and noooo problem." Cinder's expression darkened further, causing Emerald to shrink with terror. "Wh-what?"

"Yes, because we all know how much I love dealing with maybes." Cinder became so agitated that sitting still was no longer an option. She rose from her bed and paced around her nervous henchmen. "Thanks to you two, all the time and effort I've spent planning and waiting and dealing with Roman Torchwick is now dependant… on a maybe." Despite her tone never darkening, nor rising in volume, she'd turned Emerald into a shaking wreck. Even Mercury looked uncomfortable in his own skin.

Foolishly, Emerald tried to fix things. "Ma'am, I'm-"

Cinder silenced her words with an outstretched finger. "No. I've spent the entire morning letting you call the shots. You two just waved a sign at a huntsman that says 'here we are, please come kill us.'"

Every word Cinder spoke was a dagger to Emerald's heart. She could barely respond through her growing remorse. "M-ma'am, I swear I had no-"

"Enough." She looked down at Mercury, who by this point was lying on the carpeted floor and constantly emitting a series of pained groans. "Go to bed. I am tired of listening to you."

He released a tremendous exhalation of relief. "About ti-I, uh, I mean thanks."

They watched him haul himself up, stumble over, and fall into a bed across the room. He was out as soon as his head touched the pillow. Being left alone with Cinder's quiet displeasure was almost more than Emerald could take; her urge to weep was increasing by the second. By some miracle she managed to swallow her misery.

Cinder, meanwhile, said nothing. She was too deep in thought, too busy weighing what she knew and what she didn't. Emerald's distress was evident, but she elected to let her wallow in it for a while. It would help drive the lesson home. Only when she seemed ready to pop did Cinder begin to walk back her unhappiness. "Are you going to cry?"

"No. Wh-what gives you that idea?" she asked, feigning cheerfulness.

Cinder glanced at her trembling hands and smiled. "Of course. How silly of me." She turned her back on Emerald and gazed through the room's single window. The weather had turned pleasant at last; students filled her view of the courtyard. "Perhaps you've found something."

The shift in her demeanor gave Emerald some solace, but left her slightly confused. "I… did?"

"Why would a huntsman so vehemently reject his association with the Academies?" Cinder wondered out loud. "He seems to be something else entirely. I can sympathize with someone that has things to hide. We'll give him his peace for now, assuming he gives us ours." She allowed herself a tiny, twisted smile. "Part of me wonders if he can be turned. He sounded... bitter."

Emerald wiped her eyes and took a deep breath while Cinder wasn't looking. "You want us to go talk to him again?"

She snapped her head around, shocking Emerald with the angry scowl on her face. "No. Our little operation is too close to its end to bring in a new face. For what comes next, however… who knows."

"Okay. Everyone back to their corners for now, I guess." Feeling safe enough to move again, Emerald got to her feet and stretched. A tiny frown appeared at the ache that continued to plague her shoulders. "I'm really sorry. I didn't know it was gonna go, well, like this."

Cinder sauntered past her and toward the door, brushing over the pleats in her uniform skirt as she walked. "I shouldn't have listened to you. We are too close to success to risk getting our hands dirty with hunches." She stopped at the door to regard Emerald with a slightly-less pointed gaze. "I'm going to lunch. Do nothing until I get back. We will stick with our original plan until we cannot. Understand?"

Emerald stiffened up and nodded. "Yes, ma'am." Once Cinder had left, she wilted on her feet and finally let herself gasp for air. "That went… okay." To soothe her nerves, she stood at the window and stared out at the courtyard. One group in track suits running laps around the edge of the space caught her eye for several moments. When they passed the entrance to the avenue, however, someone else got her attention: a fairly tall male in an urban camouflage hat, with a cardboard box under each arm. "Oh no," she mumbled, pressing her nose to the glass. "Ohhhhhh no." Rattled again, she stepped back and yanked the curtains shut. Her first instinct was to inform Cinder, but she had said to do nothing. She wasn't sure how literally to take the order.

And given what had just happened, Emerald didn't feel like going out on anymore limbs. "It's not guaranteed to be him, right? Lots of people have hats like that." She chanced another peek out the window. His headgear stuck out like a sore thumb, so he was easy to find. "Nope, definitely him," she muttered, noting how much darker his left arm was than his right. "Okay. Okay. No need to panic. If Cinder wants nothing, that's what she'll get." Emerald settled on her own bed and laid back. "Nothing," she affirmed, looking for something interesting on the ceiling to stare at. Mere moments went by before her thoughts became too anxious to ignore. "Wonder what he's doing here," she mumbled nervously. Emerald knew better than to defy Cinder and start snooping, but there was one thing she could do. She snatched the Scroll off her nightstand and opened it to send a message.


Emerald wasn't the only one being troubled by Opher. Despite it being a day off, Pyrrha had spent a great deal of it in Beacon's expansive library. On the table were several thick volumes in a neat stack, waiting to be read once she'd finished off the one in front of her. The rest of her team was nowhere to be found. "There must be something in here," she mumbled lowly, flipping a yellowed page.

A moving tower of books lumbered past and grabbed her attention. At its base was Yang Xiao Long, who wasn't even breaking a sweat with the effort. "Hey, Pyrrha!" she said with a wave, her load shifting dangerously in the process. "Whoops."

"Hello again!" She watched the mighty blonde toddle out of sight before returning to her reading. So lost was she in her search that when Yang returned and pulled up a chair on the other side of the table, it took her several seconds to notice and look up again.

"Yo," she said with a toothy smile. "Where's the rest of the circus?"

Pyrrha chuckled faintly. "Still at the dorms. I'm just here to do a little research while I have the chance."

"Neat." Yang continued to sit there and watch, her purple eyes betraying how unsatisfied she was with the explanation. "Wanna talk about it?"

"There's… nothing to talk about. I'm just studying," Pyrrha replied, her eyebrows raised slightly.

Yang leaned back in her chair and put her boots on the table. "Hey, I found something you're not good at: lying."

"Am I that obvious?" Pyrrha tapped at her bronze crown with a sigh. "I think I might have made a mistake yesterday and I'm not sure how to fix it. Or if I should even try."

"Huh." A thoughtful Yang sat up straight and rubbed her chin. "You talked to Jaune about it? I'm sure he could give you some advice." They shared a knowing stare. "I don't even know why I said that, I'm sorry."

Pyrrha shook her criticism off and smiled. "Oh, he's… a good listener. Anyway, I couldn't. He was there when it happened. I don't want to drag him any further into this than I already have."

"Why am I not surprised?" She stopped chuckling in the face of the redhead's quizzical stare. "Never mind. If you don't wanna talk to him, try Nora—wait, she never shuts up. What about Ren—wait, he never says anything, does he?"

Despite her best effort not to show it, Pyrrha had gotten a little tired of Yang's attempt to be helpful. "It's my problem," she stated flatly. "I'll deal with it."

Yang hunched over, eyes hidden behind her right hand. "Oh my god, you're turning into Blake." She dropped her arm to gaze sternly. "Look, talk to somebody. Your team, someone else's team, the professors, whoever. Hey, talk to me! People love talking to me." A grin abruptly appeared. "The boys, anyway."

Tight-lipped and silent, Pyrrha tried to ignore Yang's smiling patience. Her holdout lasted only a minute or two. With a sigh and a sideways glance, Pyrrha yielded as much for Yang's benefit as her own. "Do you know that little Dust shop on the south side of the shopping district? It's not too far from the river."

She blinked at the question. "You're gonna have to be more specific. There's like, seventeen of those."

Pyrrha scratched at her hair and leaned back. "Ah… it's very small. I can't quite remember the name… something to do with gems..."

"Ooo, Diamond Dust!" she blurted out, clapping her hands once. "I buy cartridges there 'cause they're so cheap. Their catchphrase is…" Seized by a fit of chuckles, Yang had to pause until they passed. "Never mind, but man, people call me corny? I love the owner. She's hilarious."

"Well, her employee didn't seem funny to me," the redhead said lowly, her arms crossed.

Her head tilted for a moment. "Huh? Ohhhhh, you met the guy she hired a couple of weeks back. Yeah, I'm not sure what I think about him yet either."

"You've seen him before!" Pyrrha sat up rigidly and looked at her with desperate curiosity. "Have you talked to him?"

Yang offered a half-shrug. "Small talk. You know, 'hey,' 'how's it going,' 'stop trying to deadlift the display cases.' Why?"

"I felt his Aura by accident yesterday. It rattled me so badly, I… might have gone back to Vale to ask him questions I shouldn't have asked." She looked up at a silent Yang and scowled. "He's been in fights. I saw it in his eyes. And that Aura… it was unlike anything I've ever detected before. Not even Jaune's was so strange."

"Wow. I forgot you could actually do Aura stuff." Pyrrha's vaguely annoyed look made her smile and wince. "My bad." She put her arms behind her head and slumped back. "Okay, so the guy's seen his share of battles. Who hasn't? The world's a pretty nasty place."

"It's more than that. I can't figure out why it's bothering me so much." Her head dipped slightly. "Maybe I don't feel like I apologized enough for the way I acted."

"Ah, don't get so down. There are worse traits to have." Yang stood up and stretched obnoxiously. "If it were me, though, I'd leave it alone. Could be that you opened some old wounds for the guy. I know I'd be pretty annoyed if some random girl dragged up bad memories."

Pyrrha digested this advice in silence. After a moment, she admitted defeat with a sigh and a smile. "Fair point. Thank you, Yang."

"Always glad to help. I better get back before… huh." Yang gazed off down the carpeted pathway, tracking someone Pyrrha couldn't see as they came closer. "Oh, hey, Opher. What's up?" Pyrrha rose as well, putting on a friendly face in preparation to greet whomever the blonde was addressing. When she added, "We were just talkin' about you!" however, the redhead's heart flew into her throat.

"I don't even want to know. I'm just here to drop off a shipment for Indy," he said, indicating the boxes under his arms. He glanced over at Pyrrha and blinked. "Oh, it's you again."

"Iiiiiii'm gonna let you two work this out," Yang said, pointing at both as she backed away with an awkward smirk. "Later, Pyrrha! Later…" she trailed off, bursting into peals of laughter. "Oh god, I wanna call you Gopher so bad."

"Never gets old for you, does it?" He squinted at her as she ran off, snickering all the way. "It must be nice to have such a simple sense of humor."

"I—I, ah, I..." Pyrrha's mind groped for the right thing to say, for anything to say, and failed her miserably. All she could do was regard him with wide-eyed nervousness.

Fortunately, Opher didn't leave her hanging for too long. "I'm not still mad at you, if that's what you're stuttering about," he said with a faint smile.

Pyrrha placed a hand on her chest and sighed. "Oh. Oh, thank goodness. Ah… I've been doing some Aura research," she said, motioning at the books on her table. "Yours is really something. Have you ever had anyone else examine it?"

"I think you mentioned that already, and no. Absolutely not." He stared off into space for a second before returning to reality. "Anyway, I gotta go. Indy says she's paying me overtime for this, which translates into 'hurry up before I fire your ass.' Later."

"But-" Too late. Opher was already well on his way. Pyrrha lacked the will to chase him down a second time. "No, no," she commanded herself. "Leave him be." As he walked, she couldn't help but superimpose the awful gray thing she'd seen against his retreating form. The picture made her tremble and turn away.

As he approached the desk at the far end of the building, Opher wondered if keeping her in the dark about his subsequent visitors was a good idea. "Eh, she has enough to worry about," he finally decided. "I mean, she does attend Beacon." Now that he'd said the name out loud, Opher was forced to admit his own nervousness about being here with a low grumble through gnashed teeth. The whole campus made him uneasy; especially the central tower and its glowing orbs, just visible at the tops of the library windows. They were like giant unblinking eyes upon him. Opher glanced at them with a shudder. "I hate this place."

His opinion of the Academy slipped out just as he walked past Cinder, holed up between two bookshelves and pretending to read. Thanks to Emerald's warning, she had the chance to find him and watch his movements, including his chat with Pyrrha. "Hate is a strong word," she whispered to herself after making sure he was out of earshot. "You might not be Pyrrha's friend, but perhaps you might get along with us."


The rest of Opher's delivery run went without interruption or incident. An hour's passage saw him walking back through the door of Diamond Dust, where a particularly grumpy-looking Indigo manned the counter. "Holy shit, where have you been?" she demanded sourly.

He strode toward her, grinning at her disdain. "I had to pass an ID check on the way in because someone forgot to add me to the merchant's whitelist. Security must be so tight because of the festival."

His explanation did nothing to quell her annoyance. "Whatever, new guy. You got my money?" Indigo yelped with surprise when he chucked a Lien card at her and walked into the backroom. "Get back here! You've gotta take over the register!"

"Good god, Indy, can I put my hat away?" In the middle of doing so he began to wonder about her heightened level of abrasiveness. "If anyone should be mad about being here, it's me. Isn't this my day off?" he added, hoping she'd take the bait and give him some idea of her troubles.

It worked; her angry tone had abated immensely the next time she spoke. "It's not that, it's just… uh…" She poked her head into the back just as Opher was preparing to come out. "We're getting a shipment in this evening. I'm worried that Torchwick asshole is gonna steal it before it gets here. We need this supply bad."

"Why didn't you just say something?" he asked, tousling her hair on his way back to the counter. "I'd be worried too."

Indigo pursed her lips and smacked him on the back as he went past. "Stop being so nice."

Opher grinned at her and settled in at the counter. "Someone has to be the good cop in this relationship, Indy. Oh, do you need anyone to help you unload the stuff?"

"Maybe," she admitted, pouting even harder.

He couldn't look at her without a wry smile, so he decided to turn away and let her have some peace. "Then you can buy me something to eat when we're done."

Indigo rolled her ochre eyes and went into the back. "Yeah. Fine. Thanks."

Not five minutes after Opher sat down, a customer arrived. The most striking thing about this young, brown-haired girl was the red and white bandanna covering the top of her head. Like many of the people who walked in, she seemed perturbed by the lack of merchandise.

Indigo, still in the back, heard the door chime. "Did you say the catchphrase?" she yelled. "I didn't hear it."

The girl was understandably confused. Opher just shrugged at her and said lowly, "Don't mind us. Go ahead." He then turned around to shout back. "I'm not saying that stupid catchphrase!"

"I pay you, new guy! Say the damn catchphrase!"

Her demand was so loud and vicious that their potential customer jumped with terror. "It's fine," Opher assured her again. "Also, please forgive me for what I'm about to say." He cleared his throat and sighed. "Welcome to Diamond Dust, where all that glitters… is our outrageously low prices."

"Good boy," Indigo praised. The young girl just stared at the open backroom door.

"Ignore her," Opher encouraged. "Or, you know, try to. She is pretty loud."

"Okay…" she said, adjusting her bandanna and looking at the shelves. "Where's all your stuff?"

He looked at the empty shelves and shrugged. "We're waiting on a shipment. It might be a good idea to come back tomorrow. We should be fully stocked then."

"Oh." With a reluctant look, she began to back away toward the front door. "I think… I'll just do that."

Indigo walked up beside Opher just as the young girl left the shop. "Great, your stupid tattoos scared her off," she said, hands on her hips.

"I think your catchphrase scared her off," he countered with a glare. "It probably scarred her for life, too." They locked horns in a silent staring contest. With each passing moment, their eyes got narrower until the squinting made Opher blink and avert his gaze. "Ow. I can't do that for that long."

"I couldn't even see you at the end there." Indigo rubbed her face, grinning with victory. "Okay, okay, I'll try to behave. I don't wanna piss you off and end up unloading this shipment by my-" The sound of gently squealing brakes made her lose her train of thought; a box truck had come to a halt in front of the store. "My Dust!" she squeaked, hurling herself over the counter. "Opher, come on!"

"Yes, Indy," he replied with a smile, but what she'd said made him freeze with surprise. "Did you just call me by name?"

Unloading the cargo was one matter, but sorting it was another. The sun was long gone by the time Indigo decided what Dust products should go where. The largest crystals and most volatile powders went into the heavy steel safe in the back room. Meanwhile, Opher tried to evenly distribute different elements on the shelves. "I think we've got too much wind!" he called toward the back. His response was a few seconds of high-pitched laughter. "What?"

"Sorry," she said after a brief silence. "Got wind. Fart joke."

Opher stared at the doorway with disbelief. "No wonder you and Yang get along so well."

A few minutes later, Indigo wandered into the main area and shut the back room door behind her. "I'm too sleepy to care about this anymore. I can finish making things pretty in the morning."

"If you're tired, go home. I'll finish and lock up," he said, not even looking up from the box of Dust vials at his feet.

"Are you sucking up to me?"

Her question finally made him glance over. "I never leave a job unfinished."

Indigo blinked at the seriousness of his tone. "Uh… okay. Whatever." she reached into one of the hip pockets on her khaki dress and produced a set of keys. "Catch!"

He easily snatched them out of the air. "Right. Am I going to get overtime for today and Sunday if I stay past midnight?" Instead of answering him, Indigo growled all the way to the front door. "Aw. I love you too," he chirped mockingly.

She was halfway out before stopping to sneer at him. "Don't break my store, new guy."

"I'd never. Now get." Once she departed, Opher put on the light frown he usually wore and looked at the mess he'd volunteered to clean up. Boxes of Dust were scattered all over the slate-colored carpet. "I have made an error," he sighed. "Oh well. It's not like I don't have time to kill."

He tackled the task one shelf at a time, starting from the back and working forward. The harsh white light that came from the ceiling glared off every Dust crystal he handled, hurting his eyes; he eventually got tired enough of the effect to turn off the shop lights and work in the dark. Thanks to the crystals' faint glows, he had a rainbow-colored view of their elemental distribution. "Huh. We really do have too much wind." In fact, by his estimation, over half the crystals on the shelves glowed green. "Way too much wind."

The quiet brought on by his pause to think let Opher hear a noise from the back room. As he walked closer to the door, it became clearer as a rhythmic, metallic tapping. When he gently opened the door and looked in, there were two shadowy forms crouched by the safe, lit only by a flashlight the smaller of the two thieves was holding. Neither of them realized they'd been made until Opher turned on the light. "Oh. White Fang," he said, noting first their animal ears and masks, then their white and black uniforms. As the large man drew blades and prepared to strike, Opher raised an arm and sniffed under it.

This threw off his assailant just enough to make him ask, "What are you doing?"

"I must be emitting a pheromone that attracts criminals," Opher stated lowly. "That's the only explanation I have for today." He looked past him at the other thief, a shorter girl with a single short sword in her grip. "You're going to kill me for my Dust now, I assume? Well, come on. I don't have all night."

The man smiled at his words. "Bold statement for a shopkeeper." With a roar, he lunged forward and unleashed slashes in quick succession, all of which were gently pushed aside by an inexplicable breeze. "Wh-what…"

Now it was Opher doing the smiling. "No, no, keep trying," he said when his attacker backed away. "This is funny."

And the thief obliged, charging him with renewed fury and a flurry of downward strikes. When Opher sidestepped his advance, he turned to try again, only for Opher to put a hand on his face.

"I can't believe you kept trying." He punctuated his statement by unleashing a torrent of electricity. Jerking and screaming every time one of the yellow bolts arced over his body, the thief dropped his weapons and tried to detach himself from Opher's hand. The voltage was too high; it grabbed him and held tight until, finally, he went limp and dropped in a heap to the floor. His exposed flesh sizzled with the ferocity of the discharge. "I guess I killed you hard enough," Opher said with a sniff of the air.

A muffled clang on the floor behind him reminded Opher of the other thief. She was tucked into a corner, curled up with only her back visible. "Pl-please don't hurt me," she begged, looking up when his shadow fell upon her.

Her familiar voice made Opher tilt his head. "Hold on… take off your mask." She didn't, but she did raise it up enough for him to see her face. "Bandanna girl. You were casing the store, weren't you?"

"They made me do it!" she cried, ducking her head again and waiting for the pain to come.

It never did. Opher stood there and watched her with arms folded. "I'm not going to hurt you. There's no point. Get up."

While she did manage to get to her feet after a few moments, her fear did not fade. The young girl stared at her dead partner. "We failed. They're gonna kill me if I go back," she said, her lynx ears folded against her head.

"Then don't go back." Opher glanced over his shoulder at the corpse and frowned. "I don't care where you go, but you can't stay here." He pointed at the rear exit door. "Go. Get."

Which she did, after some confused staring, leaving her sword behind. Opher picked it up, as well as the other thief's daggers, and set them on a shelf. "I could cremate the body," he thought out loud. "But then the place would smell like literal death." There was another option relatively close by, however: the river. That seemed like the better choice. "Nah, you're going for a swim." Once he'd donned his hat, Opher picked up the body and headed out into the night, whistling a cheerful little tune.


Despite a warehouse full of gray cases stacked to the ceiling, each loaded with Dust, all Roman Torchwick cared about was what was missing. He stood by the smallest stack in the lot, taking stock of the night's haul. "One, two, three," he counted slowly, using Melodic Cudgel to point, "four… where is five?" He looked around with exasperation. "Where is five?" he demanded again, startling a White Fang member on patrol. She had no answers either, which left a frustrated Roman to stare at the ceiling. "There are times when I remember how incompetent Junior's boys were and I all can think is 'those were the good old days.'"

His tirade had attracted attention; a deeply annoyed-looking Emerald sauntered around a stack of cases and into view. "What are you whining about now, Torchwick?"

"I am simply wondering where some of my Dust has gone," he replied, motioning at the incomplete collection. "The White Fang promised me five cases tonight, yet I only have four. Pardon me for being a little testy."

"When aren't you testy?" she countered with a deeply amused smile.

But Roman knew just what weakness to exploit to get his way: Emerald's relationship with the woman in charge. "Sass me all you want, but I'm sure Cinder won't be happy to hear about any delays."

Given the lecture she'd sat through that morning, Emerald decided that safe was better than sorry. Even if it meant losing to him. After one more glare, she produced her Scroll and swiped her finger across the screen a few times. "Fine. I'll see who hasn't checked in."

"Aren't you a dear."

She fired a growl his way and looked at her list. "The team we sent to Diamond Dust still hasn't reported in. Weird."

This revelation only made Roman more unhappy. "Oh, so we're having problems robbing the shop that is literally no bigger than my living room. Of course we are," he grumbled, swinging his weapon in a wide arc to let off a bit of steam.

Emerald was confused enough to look over at him. "I didn't know you had a house."

He peered at her from under the brim of his bowler. "I was being facetious, sweetheart."

"Sweetheart? Don't make me puke." Before they could really get into it, the sounds of a scuffle reached their ears. "You hear that?" she mumbled while drawing her revolvers.

"I do." But Roman saw no need to be covert. "Hello? No fighting in the warehouse!" he yelled. "If one of those powder cases explodes, you can kiss six city blocks goodbye!"

Emerald rolled her eyes and went to investigate the source of the racket. She eventually found two guards dragging a young girl through the forest of containers. Oddly enough, their prisoner wore the same uniform they did. "What's going on?"

"A runner," one of the guards said. "Caught her in the industrial district."

"Is that-" Her train of thought was derailed when she saw the girl's lynx ears. "Hold on, we sent you to rob that store. Where's your partner?"

"The huntsman killed him!" she shrieked, fighting to get out of the guards' arms.

Emerald holstered her weapons and blinked. "The… I'm confused. What did they look like?"

"T-tall guy… brown hair. Lots of tattoos on his left arm."

Her description caused Emerald's blood to turn to ice. "Are you sure?"

"Yes!" the girl cried. "He used lightning or something. I thought h-he was gonna kill me too."

An uneasy Emerald waved at the guards and started to walk. "Get her out of here. Shoot her, whatever. I don't care." After finding an empty corner, she pulled out her Scroll again. It was late; late enough that Cinder might be just as angry about getting woken up as about the reason for the call. Emerald dialed the number anyway.

Cinder answered after four rings. "I cannot imagine why you'd be calling me at this hour," she said, her voice still imposing despite its groggy undertone.

Emerald stilled her nerves with a deep breath. "Uh, ma'am, that guy just took out one of the White Fang we sent on a Dust run." Cinder remained silent for several moments. "Ma'am?"

Her answer, when it finally arrived, was curt. "Don't bother me about the cannon fodder, Emerald," she said, and hung up.

"Never mind me," Emerald murmured as she stared at the screen. "I guess we're just letting this guy kill our people now."