Maka woke in bits and pieces, before the world finally came together to reveal Black*Star bandaging her arm, the doctor standing behind him, and Soul pacing on her other side.

"It's not fatal," Black*Star told Soul. "But - Maka, how do you feel?" he asked, noticing she had woken.

"I've been better," she said hoarsely.

"You'll be alright," he said. "They must have distilled the poison multiple times to get it this strong. I don't think I've ever seen a reaction like this from an avian." He looked to Soul. "If that sword had scratched you at all, you'd be dead right now."

Soul nodded at Maka. "It's only thanks to her that I'm not."

Black*Star turned back to her. "This wasn't designed for avians in mind, so while you might be in and out for the rest of the day…" Whatever he was going to say was cut short as Maka drifted off again.

When she woke next, the room was empty save for Soul, who was sitting by her side. He straightened up as opened her eyes, his hands fluttering by her side. "Do you need anything?" he asked, his voice low. "Water?"

Maka nodded. Soul helped to prop her up against the pillows, then poured her a glass of water from the clay jug at her bedside. She sipped it slowly, savoring the feeling of the cool liquid against her dry throat.

"You could have been killed," Soul said softly, his tone carefully neutral, as though this was the only way he could talk about it.

Maka shook her head, ignoring the way it made the room spin. "The attacker was avian. I was reasonably sure they wouldn't go after me if I intervened."

"How do you know they're avian?"

"Their movement looked similar to the way I've seen my guards move in a fight. And the weapon was an avian one."

"Hm." Soul looked thoughtful. "I thought so too, but apparently she's a serpent. One of my own." His voice took on a quieter, darker tone that suggested he partially blamed himself for recent events.

Maka reached a hand out to touch his. "You're not responsible for the actions of others," she said. The full implication of what he'd told her sunk in then, and she frowned. "Are they sure it was a serpent? I could have sworn the movement was all avian."

Soul nodded. "The guards cornered her not much farther down the hall. She might be a dancer, trying to imitate avian movement. We think she's trying to reignite the war — using a stolen avian weapon, mimicking that fighting style. Had she been successful, it would have appeared as though my murder had come at the hands of an avian, and the fighting would have started anew." He looked grim at the thought.

"That's a lot of speculation. Have you spoken with her?"

Soul shook his head. "Anya said she took her own life when she realized she'd been cornered."

"Do they know anything else about her?"

"No. There's very little in the report. No one seems to know who she is."

Maka closed her eyes briefly, trying her best to ignore the temptation to keep them shut and fall asleep once more. "So we have nothing."

Soul was shrugging as she opened her eyes again. "You're still here. And we know that there are those among the courts who are unhappy enough to lash out like this. We'll increase security and be more prepared if someone tries something like this again."

"I wish I could do more," Maka said, her voice a near whisper.

"You've done more than enough." Soul squeezed her hand, reminding her they were still joined. He was silent for a long time, and then, so quietly she almost missed it, said, "You scared me today, Maka."

"It'll take a lot more than that to take me down," she said lightly.

Soul shook his head, refusing to downplay her actions. But he only said, "You need rest."

"Do they know how much longer until I'm recovered?"

"Only a day or two more," Soul answered. "But only if you rest." This was paired with a pointed look.

Maka rolled her eyes, but slid further down the bed until she was settled against the pillow. She went to make a wry comment on Soul's propensity for worrying, but she was asleep before the words could form on her tongue.

Soul stayed by her side as Maka recovered, a process which, true to his word, only took a day and a half more. As soon as Maka was able to partake in a full meal, she announced her intention to travel back to the Keep.

"Are you sure you're feeling well enough to travel?" Soul asked as he watched her pack. "We can take another day if you need it."

Maka made a shooing motion at him. "I've already told you a hundred times, I'm fine. We're already late heading back as it is; I don't need my mother flying down here personally to try and find out why."

Soul cringed at the image and no further argument was made.

They made the trip on horseback, because despite Maka's insistence regarding her fitness, the occasional dizzy spells had not yet worn off, making long flights inadvisable. After several long hours on horseback, Maka once again had a healthy appreciation for the lengths Soul went to make the journey every week.

They arrived to a flurry of activity at the Keep, though the frenetic energy seemed to die down as soon as Maka was spotted. A contingent of guards met them near the front gate, including a tired and run-down looking Kim. Sid caught the direction of Maka's gaze and bent down to fill her in. "She's only come back to duty today. She's taken the loss of her sister hard. Before the announcement of the peace, she might have been honored as a noble soldier, but now…" He grimaced. "She's been labeled a traitor. Kim didn't take well to that."

"Of course she wouldn't," Maka murmured. She eyed Kim again, both with pity and apprehension. She felt bad for the young robin, but given the climate of the past few days, Maka found herself a little more paranoid than she might have been previously.

Black*Star, who had caught up to them during the conversation, caught the look on Maka's face. "Anya caught the assassin," he reminded her, "but if you'd like, I can keep a close eye on Kim, for your peace of mind." She wasn't the only one worried about Kim, clearly.

Maka murmured her thanks.

"There you are." Her mother's voice rang out in the courtyard, overshadowing the loud clamor of their arrival. "Did you plan to let you know you'd arrived at all, or were you planning to wander about all afternoon?" Despite her blase words, Kami's face was lined with worry. "We were concerned these past few days when you didn't arrive. Some of us were on the verge of storming the palace to make sure you were still among the living."

Maka shot Soul a look as if to say "Told you so!" The corners of his mouth twitched.

She met her mother's gaze head on, sobering as she braced herself to recount the past few days' events. "There was an attack at the palace," Maka said honestly. "Someone trying to go after Soul. I was caught in the middle and have spent the past few days recovering. But I'm fine," she added hastily, holding up a hand as her mother lurched forward to grab her daughter and examine her from head to toe. "I truly am. But that's why we're late." She continued on with what scant details they had on the would-be assassin, including her identity as a serpent.

"How can you be so sure that you weren't the target?" Her mother said urgently.

Maka shook her head vehemently. "I wasn't. The assassin ran off rather than attack me."

Her mother frowned. "If this is true, and her goal was to reignite this war, then why would she have hesitated, as you say she did? Killing you would have achieved that same goal as killing Soul, especially if it occurred in the middle of the synkal?"

Maka shrugged. "We don't know." She looked to Soul, inviting him to share his thoughts.

"Maybe she wasn't trying to kill me. An assassination attempt might have accomplished the same thing without her having to spill her Diente's blood."

"Well, at least some of your kind has their limits," Kami sniffed, and the mood soured quickly. "I'm still not convinced. Are you sure this Anya is correct?"

"Mother, if you have some better theory, we'd love to hear it," Maka said loudly, miffed and hoping to avoid another scene like the one on the balcony. She looked to Soul, an apology in her eyes, but he wouldn't meet her gaze.

Whatever Kami's reply, Maka missed it as a sudden wave of dizziness swept over her. She reached out, trying to find anything to steady her, only to find Soul's arm as he appeared almost instantly by her side.

"Maka, great skies, lie down," her mother ordered, as though Maka had remained in the courtyard through sheer stubbornness and not because they'd been conversing mere moments ago. "Why would you let her travel like this?" she demanded of Maka's guards and Soul at large.

"I'm fine, Mother," Maka said. With some small effort, she released Soul and straightened up.

Kami's face softened. "Maka, you look exhausted. You won't get any better if you refuse yourself rest; please go and lie down." Her concern over her daughter's welfare shone through once more and Maka relented, not only to appease her mother's worries, but also because a long nap sounded incredible. She nodded. "Alright, I'll go."

"Soul," her mother said as Maka and Soul made to leave, "I have an issue regarding the market I'd like your opinion on. It's nothing important," - this was directed towards Maka, who'd hesitated - "nothing that requires your attention, at least." She made a shooing motion towards the elevated first floor. "Go."

Soul nodded to her and turned to leave with her mother.

Maka fumed silently as she made her way up to her room. If the question regarding the markets was unimportant enough that Maka didn't need to hear it, and Soul certainly needn't be involved. Kami had only made it up to keep Soul from coming upstairs with Maka. After so many weeks, and she still didn't trust him.

This unhappy mood followed Maka into her dreams, scattering her dreams into strange fragments. And yet despite this fitful sleep, Maka woke feeling rested and refreshed. She slipped into the hall, not wishing to disturb anyone in the early hours, and found Soul and Black*Star deep in conversation.

"I understand," Black*Star was saying. "If you-" He cut himself off as Maka came into view. "Maka, good morning. How are you feeling?"

"Fine." Maka eyed the two of them suspiciously. While they had developed something of a formal cordiality over the past few weeks, Maka had never seen Soul and Black*Star elect to spend time alone voluntarily. "What's going on? What are you two talking about?"

Soul waved a hand airily. "Only new security measures, that's all."

Black*Star nodded. "We agreed it's probably best to allow some of the serpiente guard into the Keep, given the attempt on Soul's life."

Maka nodded. They'd been hesitant to allow serpiente inside before, and Soul's guards had not been allowed to travel with them during weeks spent at the Keep. But no doubt it would be safer for them both to grant them access now.

"Anya and Aryn will arrive tomorrow morning and report to me," Black*Star continued.

"Anya?" The name came out sharper than Maka intended.

Soul gave her an odd look, but Black*Star seemed oblivious as he replied, "Of course. As the captain of Soul's guard, she's doubtless the most qualified for the position, and the most loyal." Whatever Maka's opinions of Anya, she knew his assessment was sound, and did her best to drop her unease.

They moved into the breakfast hall to eat. Soul seemed to be in a strange, quiet mood, so Maka tried to break the tension. "What did my mother want last night?"

Soul gave her a humorless smile. His tone was darker than usual as he answered, "Like she said, nothing important. It seems she still dislikes me having any time alone where I might plan some nefarious deed."

Black*Star looked as though he would rather be anywhere than that room, so he stood up and said, "I'm sorry, but I should go check in with the flight and prepare them for Anya and Aryn's arrival tomorrow. Ox will be with you today." He nodded back to where the osprey stood inconspicuously outside the door. Black*Star leaned closer and added, "It was his weapon the assassin stole, and he feels terribly guilty about it. I wouldn't worry about it, though - he's one of our best, and we've never had a problem with him before. You can trust him." With that, he left Maka and Soul alone in the hall.

Soul's mood seemed to grow blacker by the minute, and Maka's various attempts to lighten it did nothing. Finally, she grew tired of it. "Soul, what's wrong?"

"Wrong? You mean besides nearly being killed a few days ago and watching you get sliced open to protect me? I don't see anything wrong there." He threw his napkin down on the table. "What one person does, several usually consider. The first one may have been caught, but this is far from over." After a long beat of silence, he put the palms of his hands on his eyes and sighed. "I'm sorry, Maka, I don't mean to be rude. You of all people understand what's going on."

And she did. Maka may have dismissed her own injuries, but the reality of what had happened was far more concerning. Soul was right - an attack like that usually wasn't isolated, and though the incident had been closed, the likelihood of another attempt couldn't be dismissed out of hand. And yet, what could they do about it? The helplessness itched, like an ill-fitting set of clothes. Of course Soul would be feeling the same strain as she. She told him so, but he only shook his head and excused himself from the room.

Maka stared after him, one fist pressed against her mouth in frustration. Soul was still a terrible mystery to her at times, one she longed to solve. The moment she thought she understood something about him, he'd do the complete opposite of what she expected. And yet, she thought she saw something of herself in him.

Maka narrowed her eyes as her resolve grew even stronger: she would unravel the mystery of Soul Evans, even if it was the last thing she did.

Soul's dark mood persisted for the rest of the day, despite Maka's determination to help him break through it. The assassination attempt had brought to light all the dark and ugly things they'd hoped they could avoid throughout the difficult process of integrating their leadership, highlighting that despite their hard work in this alliance, there remained those who would always be unhappy with it.

However, to others he only seemed mildly disquieted, and it was only Maka and a few serpiente merchants they spoke with who picked up on his melancholy. Maka wondered when it was that she had gained the ability to see past his external mask, and whether he was also able to read her in a similar way.

Though she wished to talk to him, she found herself always floundering on what to say. What could she offer that wouldn't sound trite or self-centered? She was at a loss as to what exactly he needed, and it left her frustrated and annoyed with herself.

These turbulent emotions kept her from sleeping well that night, and after hours of tossing and turning fitfully, she rose and tread familiar steps to Black*Star's door. He didn't look surprised to find her there, and invited her in without hesitation. "Let me guess," he said, closing the door behind her. "You're worried about Soul."

She shot him an exasperated look as she settled into one of the chairs in the front room. Black*Star leaned against one of the walls, his posture casual as he waited for her to continue.

"I know he's been tense for a while now, and I think he was avoiding me for a time," she said slowly, gathering her thoughts. "But it's never been this bad. I'm not sure what to do. Does it have to do with what you were talking about this morning? Because I know it wasn't security measures, or whatever excuse you had." She watched him carefully, looking for any crack or clue in his expression.

Black*Star shrugged one shoulder. "Couldn't say for sure," he said.

Maka waited a beat more, but he didn't say anything else. "Really? You're not going to tell me?"

"What we talked about is between me and him."

"Because you're such bosom buddies now."

"We share something in common, now," he said, ignoring her quip.

"What?"

"You, bright one," he said dryly.

"So you were talking about me."

"Skies, but you're nosy." He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. He eyed her carefully, and for a moment she thought he might actually tell her. But what he said instead was, "Do you love him?"

Maka almost choked on her own spit. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Do you love him?" Black*Star repeated. "Because you're showing an awful lot of worry for someone you used to loathe."

Maka couldn't do anything but blink in surprise for a long moment. "I - I don't… I don't loathe him. Anymore."

"Yes, that much I got."

She bit her thumbnail, unsure of how to answer. "I… like him, I suppose. We share more in common than I thought. I respect him. But, I don't… I don't know that I love him. I think he deserves it. Love, I mean. But I don't know that I'm where he'll find it."

"Do you trust him?"

Maka was as unsure of this answer as she was of the one before it. "I trust his intentions. I trust that he's doing what's best for his people, and that includes this peace."

"That's not really an answer."

Maka told herself not to overthink it. She could analyze and wonder all day long, but that wouldn't get her anywhere. When it came down to it, did she trust him?"

"Yes." Her eyes widened at the answer that left her lips. "I think I do." She sounded startled at the revelation.

Black*Star was too, from the look of it. "Really?"

Maka nodded slowly. "I don't think I could explain why."

"Well," he said with a sigh, pushing off from the wall, "if it makes you feel any better, I think the feeling might be mutual."

"What?"

"He hasn't said anything of that effect to me, but it's a feeling I have." He shot her a sardonic look. "Throwing yourself in front of a poisoned knife might have done something for that, I think."

Maka sighed and let her head fall back against the chair. "I won't apologize for it."

"I wouldn't expect you to." He crossed the room and sat in the chair across from room, moving it forward until their knees almost touched. Leaning forward, he took her hands in his and pulled gently until she was sitting up straight and looking at him. "Look," he said. "I know this hasn't been easy. Especially considering the past week." Maka let out a snort. "But you just have to give him a little space, I think. He's processing what happened, and especially your actions. Other than that," he shrugged. "I think you'll have to ask him yourself."

Maka slumped forward a little. "Do I have to?"

Black*Star snorted. "You're Tuuli Thea, you don't have to do anything. But it might make this whole peace thing a little more difficult if you decide to never talk to your alistair."

Maka smiled, then cocked her head to assess him. "Are you okay with this? I know I asked for your support in this, and you weren't happy about it."

Black*Star shook his head. "I did doubt whether you could pull this off. If peace was really something we could see in our lifetime. But I look around now… I've worked hand in hand with the serpiente and both of us have come out the other side. We've had no major battles, no significant death counts… if you'd told me a few months ago that you'd end up doing all this in your first month as Tuuli Thea, I'd have laughed in your face. And then I think, of course you'd be the one to do it, drag us all kicking and screaming into peace." He paused, considering his words. "So yes, I'm okay with this. You've made my job ten times more difficult, but I'm willing to follow you down this road, as always."

Maka smiled widely. "Thank you."

The door in front of them opened suddenly, and they both bolted back in surprise, their hands tearing away from each other. Ox stood in the doorway, trying to look anywhere but at Maka and Black*Star. Anya looked murderous.

"Sir, I - Anya is here," Ox said unnecessarily. "You wanted her to report to you immediately?

Anya's eyes flashed dangerously. "If I'm interrupting, I can come back later."

Black*Star shook his head and stood up. "You're not interrupting anything," he told her. "Ox, if you could escort Maka back to her rooms. Anya, I can show you to your room if you'd like, or we can tour the Keep."

"I'd prefer to know the layout of this place before I retire," she said, still looking at Maka. "Apparently there might be all sorts of things going on in here."

Maka didn't bother to say anything to Anya as she left the room. She knew what it had looked like - Maka and Black*Star, sitting so close they were touching, face to face, their hands clasped together. It had looked like an intimate moment, but hadn't been. Of course it hadn't been.

But she doubted Anya would believe her.

They returned to the serpiente palace a few days later. Maka tried to discern whether Anya had told Soul about what she'd thought she'd seen, but with the midsummer's festival quickly approaching, the synkal was in too much of an uproar. Maka and Soul were both pulled in several directions in the preparations, leaving them little free time to talk.

A day or so after she arrived, Maka screwed up her courage and sought out Tsubaki, the dancer she'd encountered in the open-air market, and asked her to teach her some steps. Tsubaki had been quietly pleased at the request, and had led her into the dancer's nest, an enclosed space reserved for the dancing troupe. It took advantage of the natural shelter provided by the nearby forest - the ceiling consisted of ropes and nets strung with huge swaths of leather and fabric between branches to provide shade in shelter. However, if needed, the nets in the center could be moved aside to allow sunlight in and smoke from the steadily burning fires out.

The slate floor was covered in piles of soft blankets, richly woven rugs, and various patterned pillows and other soft materials provided by the dancers. The center was left undecorated to make room for the bonfire that lit the space. Thin, gauzy curtains were attached to the sides of the nest, dancing lazily in the air.

The dancers clustered together in small group, some sharing animated tales, some sipping from goblets of mulled wine, others carefully teaching younger dancers. The raised dais at one end of the nest was empty, but Maka could easily imagine it filled with a plethora of graceful, winding dancers.

There was little reaction from the others inside as Tsubaki led Maka into the dancer's nest - likely she had warned them that their Naga might come. Considering how much attention Maka usually generated wherever she went, she appreciated the disinterest.

Tsubaki began teaching her a few simple steps, and though the movements seemed intimidating at first, Maka quickly adapted to the style. She had spent years training and sparring, and it came as a surprise to discover that dancing was no so different than fighting, in some ways. She already had a kind of grace when she extended her arm or her leg - all she needed to remember was to pair the movements with the rhythm of the steady drum or the gentle lilt of the flute.

However, the Namir-da still eluded her. Tsubaki didn't seem concerned. "You have the talent," she said critically, watching as Maka swayed to the music. "I believe you might master it with time. But that is the critical element: time, and practice."

So Maka didn't feel all that discouraged as midsummer dawned a few days later. Suddenly the courtyards were perfumed with exotic spices, and the air was thrumming with drum beats and hypnotic music. The marketplace flowed to the brim with bodies, all talking and laughing and dancing, until it overwhelmed the senses.

Soul and Maka entered the market together, and almost immediately one of the dancers Maka had practiced with darted forward and offered her a silk scarf in rich crimson and shimmering gold, strung with tiny bells all along the edge. A melos, offered to dancers as a compliment to their skill and a request for a performance. Soul made as though to intercept the motion and decline on Maka's behalf, but she pulled it from his hands and did a dew steps Tsubaki had taught her the other day, her feet light as they skipped across the ground.

She almost laughed out loud at the astonishment on Soul's face. Maka winked at him and performed a few more steps, a lighthearted challenge on her face. Soul met her almost at once, answering her with a few steps of his own. They danced together in their own little circle at the edge of the market, the rest of the world fading until the only things left were the two of them.

Soul was an excellent dancer, though they kept it limited to the steps and patterns that Maka did know. Several requests to see them perform were made of them throughout the day, and sometimes it seemed like they could hardly move five steps before someone else was upon them again, asking for another dance.

Eventually, Maka's energy began to wane with the day. A circular dais had been constructed in the middle of the synkal, and it was here that Soul addressed his people as the sun began to dip below the horizon. Maka, Camille, and Eloise sat at the back of the stage while Soul retold stories and legend of the serpiente, the torches at the edge of the platform lighting him with a gentle orange glow as twilight deepened.

After he had finished, the doors to the synkal opened, allowing the children out into the market where they would stay up late enjoying shows, games, and sweet treats. The adults stayed within the synkal as Camille and her mate prepared to take the stage and dance together in front of the serpiente people for the first time. Everyone looked to them eagerly, anticipating a beautiful show. All except Eloise.

Soul's mother stiffened, and when Maka looked to her, she was staring off stage and into the darkness. Before Maka could ask what was wrong, Eloise seized hold of her arm and yanked her bodily to her feet. Soul heard the commotion and whirled around, eyes wide as he caught sight of his mother.

Everything that happened after that came in a blinding instant.

A tearing pain ripped through Maka's shoulder, so intense she couldn't even cry out. Her vision tunneled and the world spun wildly, the burning torches at the edge of the stage blurring together into long streaks of orange and red. Maka faltered, her feet unsteady underneath her. Dead weight crashed into her side, and Maka felt the fall as though it were in slow motion. He heard screaming, but everything sounded muffled, as though someone had pressed a thick pillow to her face. She vaguely registered warm arms wrapping around her waist, and yet the falling sensation continued.

The last thing she remembered was Soul looking down at her with blind panic in his eyes, and then her vision tunneled, and everything went black.