The rain was lashing sideways, crashing silently to the earth through the dark of the night as hoofbeats thumped frantically through the mud. The wind whipped by, howling, and there was no other sound but that rhythmic pounding and the panting breath from the water slicked steed. It was a silent blessing that China had been riding from such a young age and that her expertise had only since grown as she urged the horse forward, navigating through the darkness.

China couldn't see them, invisible through the blackness and rain, but she knew they were there. It was no surprise that she was being hunted, she had fully expected it the moment that chapel had been set on fire, but it seemed that China had underestimated Vengeous and the hunters he sent after her. That was a mistake, and one that she wouldn't make again.

Something flashed past her, and China cursed, the energy stream barely missing her head. They were behind her, and close enough to know where she was. They had found her in a little village a few miles away from her destination, where she had decided to stop when the storm had hit, not imagining Vengeous' men were so close on her heels. The city of Dublin was close, and the newly established sanctuary there was expecting China. Her brother had assured her safety upon her arrival. She knew as soon as she arrived she would be thrown into a cell, perhaps even killed. China didn't mind. That was better than being dragged back to Vengeous, battered and humiliated, and that was certainly better than dying here in the rain and the muck.

She heard the gun fire, but it barely registered before her mount buckled, crashing to the ground. China hit the mud and rolled, coming to an ungraceful stop. She was up in an instant and running, her fingers finding the symbols on her shins. Her cloak was long, but it billowed behind her and did nothing to hide the bright blue that flashed periodically from below her hemline as her legs pushed her forwards. The magic surged through her muscles and propelled her further, faster, practically flying across the ground. China imagined this was how her horses felt when they ran, the speed and strength coursing through them. She wondered if they were this scared, too.

She leaped a boulder and almost fell, slipping in the mud and the grass. She couldn't afford to be sloppy. Not now. If she fell, China didn't think she would get up. They would be on her in an instant, and it would all be over.

The sound of hoofbeats thundered over her shoulder and China tapped the fingertips of her right hand and then flung them behind her. Shards of blue light shot from the symbols there and she heard a panicked yell. There were more hoofbeats now, though, and China leapt over another rock, the strength her magic supplied rocketing her through the air. The ground rushed up to meet her and she readied herself for the slick landing, but something struck her squarely in the shoulder and she spun, hitting the ground with her heels before continuing around and landing face first into the mud for a second time.

Her left arm wouldn't obey, wouldn't support her weight as she tried to push herself up, and China could feel the blade of the dagger shifting as she moved. Jaw clenched, China reached, gripping the hilt with slick fingers, and pulled. It was an awkward angle, probably doing more damage than anything else, and China hissed in pain. But now she had a weapon, something sturdy in her hand, and the weight was a reassurance, empty as though it was.

Her pursuers thundered through the rain, circling her, cutting off escape like a vortex of sweat and hot breath and pounding hooves. China raised the dagger with her right hand and gritted her teeth, and slowly raised her left, fingers clenched in a fist. There were six of them. She hoped, ruefully, that there had been seven and her far flung attack had taken one of them down, and then doubted it. Luck, China thought, was not on her side tonight.

One of the riders pulled their horse to a stop, moving inside the circle as their compatriots continued. The figure dropped, boots landing with a sick squelching noise. They stopped, looking at China. They were young, and male, but it was difficult to make out any more than that in the darkness. She was fairly certain she had no idea who he was.

"China," the man said, voice raised to be heard over the rain and the thumping, "stop this pointless running and surrender."

"I have no idea who you are," China responded, "and I don't care. We are not friends. Do not refer to me with such casual disregard."

The man observed her for a moment. "We were instructed not to kill you, Miss Sorrows, but we have no such instructions against hurting you. Lower the weapon and we can leave here without bloodshed."

"You may not be able to kill me, but I do not have the same qualms against killing you. Leave. Now."

"You cannot fight us."

"I most certainly can."

"In which case you have no hope of winning. You need to come with us."

"I'm afraid the only way I will be doing that is if you kill me first, and I have no intention of dying here. My shoes and my hair are covered in mud, and when I die, it will be in dignity and in style. For you, however, I think this is quite perfect."

She snapped her hand open and the glowing symbol on her palm flashed red, sending out a beam of sizzling light that slammed into one of the horsemen circling her while she threw the dagger with the other. It sliced through the air and the man dove into the mud to avoid it in the darkness.

Something came at her and China dodged back, barely avoiding the blade that sliced past her arm. She responded by slapping a hand on the rear of the horse as it passed, searing into its flesh. China barely registered its scream of pain before she was crouching low and tapping the symbols etched into her forearms. When she stood, they were glowing an electric blue that flared as she flung her arms open. A wall of energy shot forward, knocking the man who had spoken to her backwards as he tried to stand, and China spun, her fingers sending out concentrated blasts to the rider behind her.

Something hit the back of China's knee and it buckled. Something else hit her shoulder and she cried out in pain. Blinding light exploded behind her eyes as she was hit a third time and China went weightless for a moment, her mind a blank slate swept with pain. She felt her face squish into mud and she lay there, feeling how cold it was. She felt the rain sting her cheek. She felt like she was going to pass out. Good. Let it happen. She wanted nothing more than for the darkness to overtake her mind and numb the pulsating pain inside her skull.

There were voices, but China couldn't focus enough to make out what they were saying. Her limbs were heavy and her vision blurry as boots squelched into view. Something nudged her and she was rolled onto her back, her body a thick, lifeless thing. She closed her eyes as the person spoke, letting the rain dance on her eyelids.

Get up, a voice said, and China ignored it.

Get up, it repeated. Don't let them kill you, feind.

Something registered slightly through the fog in her mind and China frowned slightly. Was she talking to herself? Had she been hit that hard? No. This was something else. Someone else.

We found you, the voice said. We're here.

There was a sickening thwack from above China and something landed heavily by her head. She opened her eyes and turned her head slowly, fighting the darkness that was attempting to take over her mind, and was met with the empty gaze of the man who had confronted her. The tip of an arrow was protruding from his forehead.

There were more shouts, confused now. China returned her gaze to the sky as those shouts turned to panic. More arrows flashed through her vision and she was aware of more people, storming the area. Some of her pursuers tried to mount and flee, but they were picked off by figures China could barely make out in the corners of her vision. The sounds of struggle were brief, and then the night was silent. China liked the silence. She always had.

The sound of footsteps moved towards her ears and China blinked as a figure stood over her, blurry and unfocused. They gazed at her, eyes piercing the night, and China felt nothing as the darkness passed across her eyes. And then there was nothing but blessed silence.

When her eyes opened again, they shut instantly. Sunlight was streaming and sending blinding rays down upon her, doing nothing for the splitting headache that pounded in China's temples. She lay there for a moment, collecting herself, before slowly opening an eye and taking in her surroundings.

She was in a small stone room, alone, and the bed she lay on consisted of woven straw placed atop a slab protruding from the wall. There was a window, the source of the light, and it was barred. A door stood closed across from her and the hole in its wood was also barred. A small slat sat below it, and the room held nothing else.

A cell. She was in a cell.

China raised herself into a sitting position, forcing down the groan that threatened to pass her lips. Her hand landed on something as she straightened, and she lifted it. It was fabric, rough and the color of dust, and it took China a moment of maneuvering and scrutiny to realize it was a shirt. She felt her lip curl. It was hideous. It even had those crude drawstrings down the chest to pull the thing closed. She looked down at the slab. There was something else there, most likely the trousers.

China dropped the shirt onto the ground at her feet and examined herself. Her head was pounding, but it wasn't as bad as it could have been. The knife wound on her shoulder she could feel was bandaged and was only slightly sore as she slowly rolled the muscles there. Someone had healed her- not to the best of healing capabilities, obviously, but she had been healed nonetheless. That was a good sign.

The top she wore, once a striking emerald green, was ruined. The slash on her shoulder had opened up the fabric there, and whoever had healed her hadn't been gentle with it either. There was crusted mud all down the front of her, and China could feel how stiff her hair was, matted with dirt and blood and her clothes sent motes of dirt into the air as she moved.

China looked at her shoes. She looked at the shirt on the floor.

She wasn't going to wear it. It was hideous. At least, sitting here covered in dried dirt and crusted blood, she looked like she had been in a fight and her clothes were obviously still tasteful. The clothes that had been left for her, however, were not, and China had no intention of looking like some common prisoner.

Leaning back against the cold stone, China waited. She didn't have to wait long before she heard footsteps echoing outside her door. It was a long hallway, apparently, and she could tell from the echoes that there were two people. One set of steps were quick and light, scuttling across the floor and the other pair were solid and confident and deliberate. It sounded like the first was struggling to keep up.

China folded her hands on her lap and sat up straight, attempting an air of dignified nonchalance. She must have looked like a sight, sitting so prim and proper while ripped and bruised. The footsteps slowed as they neared before stopping completely.

"She's in this one," a man's voice said. It was high pitched and breathy, like the sound a mosquito would make and it grated against China's nerves. "I have to ask you not to go in."

The second individual didn't answer, but they moved in front of the door. The little window was about two hand lengths high and three lengths long, so China could see clearly the face that appeared there. Not that she needed to see the face to know who it was. All she needed were the eyes.

Mr. Bliss stood there, his face expressionless. China gave him a small smile, keeping her face devoid of any emotion. The smile, she was sure, didn't reach her eyes.

"Brother," she said, "lovely to see you again."

Bliss didn't acknowledge the greeting. "You were two days late," he said, his voice deep and measured.

China gave him a little laugh, delicate and unintimidated. "What can I say? I had to take a few detours. Mevolents men were much better than I had anticipated. How did you find me?"

"Don't tell her that," the wimpy voice said, but Bliss ignored him.

"We have a perimeter set around the city," he said. "You triggered it when you crossed the boundary."

China raised her eyebrow. "A security ring? Who is your signum linguist? I didn't even realize it was there, I must commend them. Though I was slightly preoccupied, I admit."

"That is none of your business," the other man's voice said.

He annoyed her.

"I am speaking to my brother, little man," she said, voice cold. "Why don't you run off and make us some tea."

She could practically feel him bristle through the door.

"I am this sanctuary's administrator," he said, obviously agitated, "and you are our prisoner. I do not take orders from you, feind."

Something about that comment tugged at something in her mind and she frowned sightly, remembering.

"Someone spoke to me last night," China said, turning her attention back to Bliss, "directly into my mind."

"One of our operatives. A communicative psychic," he said. "We had a scouting squad on alert for your arrival, and they were in charge of relaying instructions to you, if necessary."

"Since when did you take part in scouting missions? That's very unlike you, brother. Was it just for me?"

He didn't respond, simply looked at her and she laughed.

"I'm so honored," she said, "that you worry about my safety."

"I do not worry about your safety," he responded, "I worry about the safety of the information you hold. Tell me how you escaped."

China shifted slightly to lean against the wall. Her shoulder was stiff.

"It wasn't too difficult. I don't think anyone would have guessed that I of all people would become a deserter. I simply fled. After burning down one of the temples, of course."

"So you have turned your back on the dark gods?"

China hesitated slightly. "I haven't fully decided yet," she said, "but I have certainly turned my back on the church. I'm sure you're pleased, brother, now that I've finally followed in your footsteps. I suppose this is the end of us trying to kill each other. A pity. I quite enjoyed the challenge you posed."

"I'm slightly disappointed," she continued. "I had hoped to have been introduced to the new council of elders. I have heard tell of Grand Mage Meritorious and would like to meet him."

"The council has other matters to attend to," the little man spoke again, "they do not have time to deal with scum like you."

China closed her eyes and sighed. The pounding in her temples had receded slightly and she could feel her thoughts organizing themselves. She almost felt back to normal.

"Please," she said, letting out a displeased sigh, "shut him up. His voice does nothing for my headache."

The man spluttered. China still couldn't see him.

"You do not speak to me like that! I am the-"

"Administrator," China cut him off. "So you've said. But it seems to me that it is no more than the position of glorified lap dog. Heel, little man, and let the masters speak."

China thought she saw a glimmer of amusement in her brother's pale blue eyes as the man continued to sputter indignantly, but it was gone as quickly as it came.

"We had a healer mend some of your wounds," Bliss said, "and I have come to tell you that you will be sent for when we are ready to gather your information."

"Will you be questioning me, or will it be someone else? Please refrain from sending someone incompetent or I may be inclined not to speak."

"You don't have a choice."

"I'm sure I have a little choice. I'll tell you what you need to know, so long as I'm not annoyed. That is a rather fair compromise, in my opinion."

"We will find the information we want to know. There is no need for you to willingly tell us anything."

China raised an eyebrow. "Are you going to torture me while you question me? Quite uncivilized."

"We will not be questioning you at all. We have psychics that can find the answers for us."

"They can certainly try. But I should warn you, my defenses are strong."

"They are nothing we can't handle."

China laughed. "I don't think you understand, dear brother. They aren't there to deter psychics prodding around in my head. They're there to prevent them from doing so. I'm afraid that if any of your little people try and poke about, the safeguards Mevolent has placed in my mind will activate and kill me. Instant brain death, to be blunt."

Bliss looked at her silently, his face stone.

"Of course," China continued, trying not to let her pleasure show, "I could be lying. In which case, there would be no harm in trying. But I promise you, I am not. Mevolent required this of all his closest allies. We know too much. He would prefer us die than hand over any of his secrets. I ask you; is that a risk you're willing to take?"

The annoying man spoke again. "She's lying. We cannot take her word."

Bliss didn't respond. China sighed.

"If it does kill her," he continued, "it's one less enemy to worry about."

"She is not lying," Bliss said finally.

"Do not let your personal feelings cloud your judgement."

China watched as her brother's icy gaze moved slowly as he turned his head to his compatriot. China could practically feel the man whither through the door and she felt a grin tug at her lips.

"I have no personal feelings on the matter," Bliss said, "and my judgement is never clouded. Go alert the grand mage and tell him we will be questioning her instead."

The man protested slightly, but China heard his footsteps echo as he walked away. Bliss looked at her through the bars.

"He was a rather annoying little man," China said, "and I didn't even get to see him. What is his name?"

"Why would you care?"

China shrugged. "I don't."

Bliss didn't say anything for the longest time. "Mevolent will continue to hunt you."

"I'm sure he will."

"He will not stop until he finds you."

"I am quite desirable."

"There are many here who want you dead."

China shrugged again. "And yet I have faith in you, dear brother. I know you understand how valuable an asset I am, and I'm sure Grand Mage Meritorious is no fool, either."

Bliss looked at her and China looked back, looked at those blue eyes. The only things that might have marked them as family.

He turned, suddenly, and strode away, and China knew it wasn't from intimidation. Her brother was never intimidated. Bliss had simply considered the conversation over, and left.

The cell was suddenly silent again, and China looked at the pile of fabric at the end of her slab. She shifted, slightly, and felt the mud crack and flake against her skin. She had an itch, somewhere on her back, and she felt as if the dirt were seeping into her, crawling through every pore to dirty her insides. It was all so very disgusting.

China sighed, resolving herself, and began to change.