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Acier and Dhalroc sat staring vacantly at the ground for several seconds. Acier realised their escapes from the Ancienne were growing narrower and narrower: if they tried anything bigger, that was likely to be the end of them. And everything suggested they'd try something much, much bigger before long.

Or, he realised dimly as a crossbow bolt struck the ground near his feet, showering him with gravel, maybe they'd keep things small.
'This is getting absurd,' Morta snapped, hauling her two companions to their feet by their collars. 'Still, this confirms your theory, I believe-- they're definitely getting less subtle now.'
'Can we talk about this while we're not being shot at?' Dhalroc snapped, freeing himself from Morta's grip and taking off across the park at a sprint, stumbling here and there as his injured leg struggled to take his weight.
'Catch the arrows!' Acier snapped. Morta released her grip on him, and he broke into a run.
Morta, who had been looking for the source of the bolt, turned and gave him a disgruntled look. 'You really expect me to--'
'Not you!' Acier said, 'Me. My arms.'
'You really think that'll work?'
'It's worth a--' Acier started.

His left arm shot out with enough force to throw him off-balance, and he swung around before sliding half a metre along the gravel path beneath his feet, hearing it grind against his right arm.
'Help me up,' he said, and his arms threw him upright. He realised as his legs fell into a stumbling, unsteady run that his left arm actually was holding a crossbow bolt. 'Huh,' he said. 'Good to know.'

Morta skidded to a halt in front of a statue of Dirwelig, and Acier ducked behind it as another crossbow bolt zipped past him: once more his arm shot out and caught it, dragging him to the floor.
'Cancel all orders,' he said. 'Highest, that just plain isn't worth it.'
'Morta,' Dhalroc asked, catching up to them in a crouch-run, covering his head as best he could, 'what exactly are you doing?'
Acier noticed she was examining the statue of Dirwelig closely.
'What exactly am I-- Nothing yet,' she said. 'Give me your bow-- I'm pretty sure I can hit the assassin from here.'
'Shoot to wound,' Acier said. 'With a little luck, we'll be able to figure out what they're trying to distract us from this--'

Another bolt narrowly missed him.

'This time,' he finished. 'Morta, can you hurry this up?'
'Can I hurry... yeah,' she said, taking Dhalroc's bow and firing two arrows in quick succession into the middle distance. There was a faint cry of pain, and Morta darted forwards once more. 'They're over on the edge of the park,' she said. 'You two do the interrogating-- I'll catch up.'
'You're not gonna lend us a hand with this one?' Acier asked, frowning at her.
'I'm not gonna lend you...? No.' She shrugged her shoulders. 'I'm not really comfortable with that whole thing. Argile used to pass out at the sight of blood-- I can kill if I have to, but I keep it quick and painless. I-- I don't like hurting people.'

Shaking his head, Acier hurried forwards, Dhalroc in tow. They reached the edge of the park to discover a Dwarf with an arrow in one shoulder, trying to fix a broken crossbow: it took Acier a moment to realise the mechanism had been broken by Morta's other arrow.
'She's a pretty great shot,' Dhalroc noted. 'I've half a mind to just outright give her the bow.'
'Stay back,' the wounded Dwarf snapped. They grabbed a pair of bolts from the quiver at their waist, and brandished them like knives.
Acier rolled his eyes. 'Grab the bolts,' he said, crouching down. His arms shot out and his hands wrapped around the other Dwarf's fingers, squeezing them and eliciting a whine of pain.
'What are you distracting us from?' Dhalroc asked. 'What's Voix planning?'
'I don't know what you're--'
'Squeeze,' Acier said, wincing as he heard the crack of bones.
'I-- I swear, I don't--'
'A little tighter. He tried to flinch away, and wound up dragging the Ancienne member a few centimetres along the pavement. Dhalroc stumbled away, and Acier heard him cough and choke in a nearby alley as he threw up.
'I'm beginning to think this interrogation is harder on you two than it is on me.'
'Just tell us what we need to know so I can let go of you,' Acier said. 'Please.'
'See,' they said, 'you've given me no real reason to--'

'Squeeze as tight as you can.'

The sound alone was enough to make Acier's stomach heave and groan. Blood welled up around his ceramic fists, and his eyes began to water.
'Okay, okay!' they snapped. 'I-- I don't know who Voix is, but I heard there was the leader of another cell in town to finally do something about this place. I-- she had some kind of powder with her. Four caches in all.'
'One for the inn,' Acier murmured, 'one at the observatory, one for the shell just now-- Highest, this means she's almost out.'
'What?' Dhalroc asked, rejoining Acier and wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his grass-stained shirt. 'The Ancienne had four caches of sparkpowder-- they've used up three.'
Dhalroc's eyes widened. 'Where's the fourth?'
'You heard him,' Acier said. 'Where is it?'
'You think I'll answer the likes of you?' their captive grunted. 'You've already done your worst!'
'I wouldn't be so sure,' Acier said. Bracing himself, he added: 'Squeeze.'

He closed his eyes as his hands closed even tighter, but he still heard the sickening, grinding squelch over the whine of his tinnitus. 'You don't exactly have any hands left now,' Acier said. 'You feel like telling us?'
'N-no,' they said, struggling for breath.
'Okay,' Acier said. 'Grab their head.'

His hands released their grip on the captive's hands and clamped down on either side of their head, the thumbs covering their eyes. 'You sure about that?'
'Nobody told me!' they exclaimed. 'I'm-- I'm pretty low down in the organisation, I think, and I'm really having second thoughts about this whole "destroy Hollowpeak" thing, truth be told.'
Acier nodded, and ordered his hands to let go.
'That's something, I guess,' Dhalroc said. 'Here, let me get a look at your-- nope, no, I can't heal those. I doubt anyone could, truth be told.'
Acier grimaced in apology. 'Just... once you get out of this place, look for a Golemancer by the name of Kefira, down in Deeproot. She should be able to fix you up with some new hands.'
They nodded. 'I-- thanks?'
'I leave you alone for five minutes and you've already crushed someone's hands,' Morta said, joining them. 'Dirwelig, why do I even bother?'
'We know what's going on now,' Dhalroc said. 'Kind of.'
'They didn't really know the full details of the Ancienne's plan,' Acier added, nodding to Dwarf with the mangled hands as they fled across the park. 'But we know they're planning on destroying Hollowpeak, and that they only have one cache of sparkpowder left unused.'
'And if they're attacking us now,' Morta said, 'then they're probably trying to distract us from it. So we should be moving. There are three points they're likely to hit; I can't cover them all, so--'

'Hey!' a voice called, from the far side of the park. 'You landed okay! Nice going.'
Acier turned to see Rech and Brechdan hurrying towards them, the former pointing their crossbow at everything in sight and the latter struggling to carry Clay.
'Nice going,' Clay said.
'We need to cover all three possible sites,' Morta continued. 'No, no-- we need to pass this onto the guards, have them do that. No, we should focus on one-- no, we need to work with the guards-- no, form a militia...'
'A militia,' Clay added.
'You don't know,' Rech realised.
'You don't know.'
'All that knowledge,' Brechdan said, 'and you've not the faintest idea of how to actually apply it.'
'Apply it.'
'I-- we have too many options,' Morta said. 'I don't know-- I don't know whether any of them would work.'
'Them would work.'
'There's too much pressure,' she said, grabbing her head as though she had the worst headache of her life. 'I can't-- I can't think. The Ancienne haven't acted as I assumed they would so far, so I don't know what they're planning.'
'They're planning.'
'If they're not acting to your assumptions,' Brechdan said, stepping forward and placing a hand on her shoulder, 'might I possibly suggest that you-- aagh!'
She stepped back, flailing at her robe: the fabric of her sleeve was smouldering.
'That you aagh.'
'Sorry,' Morta said, glancing up. 'My wings are still kinda warm, I guess.'
'Warm I guess.'
'Anyway,' Brechdan said, 'as I was attempting to say-- might I suggest you re-evaluate your assumptions of them? Disregard all that you knew from your time with Argile, and focus on their recent actions in Deeproot and Midslope and Hollowpeak.'
'Hollowpeak.'
Morta exhaled slowly (or at least gave the impression of doing so), and nodded. 'You're right,' she said. 'They've gone for showboating over logic on several occasions-- the steadily expanding sun, the whole elaborate scheme. They've grown concerned with making a statement more so than fulfilling their goals-- Argile was killed when a dozen of their operatives stormed her workshop in the catacombs, but that was then. They're looking to... make a comeback; make sure the first people know of them is that they've destroyed something as big as Hollowpeak-- hence why their earlier actions were geared to look accidental, save for their attempt at incinerating Midslope. So with this in mind...'
'This in mind,' Clay repeated.

'Then all three likely sites and be disregarded,' Morta decided. 'Their recent assaults have all been from this side of the fortress-- the observatory, the crack, and now the assassination attempt. So what's going on over by the far wall?'
'The far wall.'
'We probably shouldn't travel with Clay,' Dhalroc said. 'I mean, we shouldn't keep all the Ancienne's targets in the same place.'
'The same place.'
Rech scowled at him. 'Their targets are Clay, Morta, and Hollowpeak, genius. Where d'you expect us to take Clay to be away from the other two? Midslope? Deeproot? Chasmforge? Any of these far enough?'
'Far enough.'
'Good point,' Dhalroc said sheepishly. 'But I feel like we probably shouldn't be standing here in the open-- we need somewhere... safe.'
'Somewhere safe.'
'Agreed,' Acier said. 'The Marquis' place? It's a safe bet that Richet isn't in league with the Ancienne, and ze should be willing to give Clay safe haven until this whole thing is over.'
'Is over.'
'Right,' Rech said. 'Ze's our best bet, yeah.'
'Best bet yeah.'
'Should one of us perhaps... lead the way, in that case?' Brechdan asked, glancing from Acier to Dhalroc to Rech.
'Yes,' Acier said. 'Yes, absolutely. ... Dhalroc, would you mind...?'
'Would you mind.'
'I was hoping Rech would take the lead on this one,' Dhalroc said, taking a step back.
'On this one.'
'So what you're saying,' Rech said, 'is that none of us actually know the way from here.'
'Way from here.'

Morta let out a loud groan of exasperation. 'Lucky for you lot, Argile was something of a distinguished guest when she stayed here, and I remember... most of the route she took. Follow me.'
'Follow me,' Clay repeated.

Morta led them through what felt like the longest possible route around Hollowpeak, passing through several other parks along the way: she seemed to halt at every statue of Dirwelig to ask for directions, and Acier soon realised she didn't know the way either. Still, before long the familiar gates were in view-- this time guarded by half a dozen of Hollowpeak's finest.
'All of you stop right there,' one guard said tiredly. 'We're going to have to search you all before you can get in here.'
'Get in here,' Clay said. The guard frowned at them.
'Please,' Acier said. 'This is urgent-- we need to get our ceramic friend here somewhere safe. Richet zirself will vouch for us.'
'Vouch for us.'
'That the... big Golem, or the one that talks?' Another guard asked.
'One that talks.'
'We both talk,' Morta said. 'Difference is, Clay isn't much of a conversationalist. Now, if you'd kindly let us through?'
'Let us through.'
'See?' Rech said. 'Even Clay wants in.'
'Clay wants in.'
'We can't just allow six people onto the estate of the Marquis,' the first guard snapped. 'Any one of you could be responsible for-- for whatever's going on right now.'
'On right now.'
'Just speak to Richet,' Dhalroc said tiredly. 'I've had a long day-- night-- whatever. Highest, this place is confusing.'
'Confusing.'

After a few rounds of argument, Richet showed up, barging zir way through the guards and smiling as ze recognised zir visitors.
'Ah, how good to have visitors again!' ze cried. 'Let them through, let them through-- your Marquis orders you!'
'Orders you,' Clay repeated.
'I wouldn't consider that to be wise--' one started.
'Then I thank you for your consideration and ask that you shut up,' Richet said, as Clay repeated the guard's words. 'Let them through.'
'Let them through.'
'We don't all need to be in there,' Acier said. 'We just need somewhere safe to leave Clay-- and maybe someone to guard them.'
'To guard them.'
'But of course!' Richet said, throwing zir arms up. 'Who?'
'Of course who.'
'I'll stay,' Rech offered. 'I'd say we probably have the most common ground.'
'Common ground.'
'I wouldn't be so sure,' Brechdan smiled. 'I'm rich, remember?'
'Remember.'
'Can we spare two people?' Acier said, turning to Morta.
'Two people.'
'I'd rather not risk it,' she said. 'Although it should probably be one of those two who stays with Clay-- they're best equipped to defend them, after all.'
'After all.'
'I vote Rech does it,' Dhalroc said.
'Rech does it.'
Rech nodded. 'Fine by me.'
Acier considered it for a moment: on one hand, Brechdan had tried to kill him several times, but on the other hand he'd spent far too much time with Rech for his own liking, as of lately, and their personality was beginning to grate more and more. 'Three votes for Rech,' he said.
'Votes for Rech.'
'This is most irregular--' the shortest of the guards started.
Richet held a finger to their lips, and shot Clay a disgruntled look as they echoed the guard. 'As are the recent explosions-- do not think I have not heard them, isolated though I may be.'
'I may be.'
'Let's go,' Rech said, shoving past the guards and dragging Clay's torso along with them. 'You've met Clay, right? Lemme bring you up to speed...'

Acier, Dhalroc, Morta and Brechdan turned back as the guards began arguing among themselves over whether they should follow Richet's orders, stage a coup, or simply resign.
'So,' Dhalroc said. 'Morta-- you've had time to consider the facts now, right? That's why you took us on such a long route here.'
'It is?' Acier frowned. 'I thought she was just lost, same as the rest of us.'
'I must confess that I, too, believed she was quite badly lost,' Brechdan nodded. 'Although if there was perhaps an ulterior motive there?'
'I know what I'm doing here,' Morta insisted, leading them into an alleyway they definitely hadn't passed through on their way to the estate. 'The Ancienne want to make a statement here-- so I'd say it's a safe bet that they won't go for any of the "safe" structural weaknesses.'
'Now there's an oxymoron if ever such a thing existed,' Brechdan chuckled.
'Anyway,' Morta said, as they neared the end of the alley. 'I feel it safe to say they'll take the most dramatic route possible in order to--'

They stepped out of the alleyway and found themselves facing down a dozen crossbows. Acier raised his arms, realised he'd only raised two of them, and ordered the other two up as well.
'I wouldn't consider surrender to be our most pertinent course of action,' Brechdan said, turning to him.
'It's preferable to dying in a hail of arrows,' Dhalroc said. 'Highest, Brechdan, put your damn--'
Brechdan shot him a glare, and raised her hands, sweeping them out towards the row of mercenaries. Their crossbows tore free of their hands, and pointed towards them.
'Now,' Brechdan said, 'if you would kindly-- Acier, put your arms down, dammit-- surrender, we can perhaps deal with this peacefully.'
Two or three mercenaries did indeed surrender; the rest sidestepped their crossbows as Brechdan fired at them, charging forward with knives and swords and axes.
'Go!' Brechdan said, as six more mercenaries flooded into the alley. 'Dhalroc and I are perfectly capable of dealing with these.'
'We don't even know where Voix and the rest of the sparkpowder are!' Acier protested, as Dhalroc stepped forward and grabbed a crossbow from the floor. He fumbled with it for a moment, and then gave up, adjusting his grip and swinging its stock like a club.
'I think I've figured it out,' Morta said. 'And even if I'm wrong, we'll be able to spot her from up there. Hold on!'
'What are you--' Acier started, as Morta grabbed him around the waist. He let out a surprised yelp as she hoisted him upwards, and before long he realised they were flying. 'Grab her!' he cried, and his Golem arms grabbed her around the stomach: he looked down to see another handful of mercenaries swarming into the alleyway from the other end, surrounding Dhalroc and Brechdan. These ones appeared to have snow on their shoulders, although it soon became difficult to tell as he soared higher and higher.
'Where are we going?' he cried, struggling to be heard over the wind roaring around him.
'Where are we-- I'm pretty certain I know where the final cache is,' Morta said. 'I just need to work out how it got there. The Ancienne had some climbing to do on this one.'
'You think they scaled the wall?'
'You think they... I know they did,' she said. 'Climbing is the only way to get that high up without the use of Alchemy. They must have a pretty elaborate setup, though-- I mean, I can't imagine going around all the girders is an easy prospect.'

Morta's flight path took them in a sweeping arc towards Hollowpeak's outer wall: Acier was treated to a close view of the great steel spiderweb that covered it as his Golem companion grew faster and faster, but before long the supports blurred past in a great silver-grey blur. Beneath him, Hollowpeak looked to have been thrown into chaos: his companions seemed to have avoided the worst of it, but crowds were beginning to form here and there, and he couldn't help but notice a few bodies that seemed to have been trampled. He turned his gaze towards the main exit, and realised that it looked to be the site of a small riot as Hollowpeak's population tried to flee from the recent wave of explosions. He watched as two or three figures in leather armour unlike that the guards wore elbowed their way through from the front of the crowd.
'That's how they're getting their people in,' Morta said, having seen the same thing. 'The riots are a good cover for it-- they can claim to be local, and the guards are too preoccupied to stop them.'
'What are you even looking for up here?'
Morta was silent for several seconds, leaving Acier to contemplate his tinnitus and try not to think about how high up he was. 'I'll know when I see it,' she decided. 'What are you even-- the Ancienne had to scale this somehow, and they would've left some sign-- I just don't know how they did it. All the options I can think of require magic.'

Morta slowed without warning, and Acier's stomach lurched forwards, continuing what felt like half a metre past the rest of his body before realising its mistake and returning to its rightful place.
'Here,' Morta said, drawing closer in a rush of air. 'Something has scratched up this girder.'
'I don't see it,' Acier said. His head was still spinning, and he could feel a vertigo attack coming on.
'There.' Morta halted inches from the steel, and pointed with her foot: Acier saw it this time.

The scratches were a few centimetres deep, and seemed to be in rows of four: they stretched clean around the girder's circumference.
'Whatever did this is pretty strong,' Morta murmured. 'Although that goes without saying, I guess. Spacing suggests claws on both hands and feet-- and it looks like a few of whatever did this passed this way, trying to hide their numbers by travelling in single file.'
'Where were they going?' Acier asked.
He felt like Morta was giving him a look, but he couldn't tell for certain. 'Where are they...? Where d'you think?' she asked. 'Down? Sideways? Up, you meatbag! Up!'
'I know, I know!' Acier snapped. 'What's up there?'
'If they take out the very top of the shell,' Morta said, 'the rest of it will cascade down around it, and Hollowpeak will be completely crushed.'
'And they're headed up there with the last of the sparkpowder?'
'And they're headed up there with... No,' Morta said. 'You see anyone above us?'
'No,' Acier said, looking up, past the ball of flame that illuminated Hollowpeak at all hours and at the steel framework that led right up to the tip of the mountain. 'Oh,' he realised.

Morta nodded, starting upwards as quickly as she could and gathering more and more speed with each passing moment. 'That's because they're already up there.'