The city around Murphy was a mess, and it could've been much worse. The water from a broken dam had slammed against a series of magic barriers instead of every flimsy granary and wooden slum. And Murphy had been present! The workshop held a weary celebration where mage-technicians slapped her on the back and shared drinks, saying, "Don't spill, now!"

Zija, a woman with a bat's leathery wings hanging from her arms like vast leather sleeves, drank just enough to keep from shaking. She'd done the real work to check and bolster the water-repelling widgets that this factory had been making in such a hurry. She saw Murphy and forced a smile. "I made sure the city council knows what you sacrificed."

Murphy wore a plain dress that weighed her down with mud. She'd occupied a central chair because she was being used as a pawn to manipulate the flow of magic throughout the building -- and then at Zija's side. At the start of the process she'd been a human man, yanked from his homeworld. Now she had a curvy body wrapped in spotted grey fur like a snow leopard, with matching ears and tail. It'd been a shock, an unwanted shift, and the bat in charge had outright said she'd let the outsider turn into a bug if it'd save the city. Still, everyone agreed Murphy had turned out well for looking so bedraggled.

Murphy had joined in with the party but wobbled on her new feline feet. "I need a bath and a bed."

She was soon provided not with a tub, as the mansion-turned-factory no longer had one, but with soap, a towel, and two buckets of water. The door clicked open and she squeaked, still unsure where to cover herself.

"Sorry," said a mage girl, vulpine, in an apprentice's robe. "Here to take your dirty clothes."

"Over there."

#

She didn't remember much between saying it and waking up again in the walk-in closet where she'd been living. The fox apprentice had barged in again, making Murphy hide naked under the covers.

"Ma'am? Lady Zija requests you." She brought Murphy back two outfits: her freshly cleaned grey linen dress, and her Earth shirt and slacks and tie.

"Knock next time," said Murphy, and let the fox go. She tried putting the shirt on again but sighed; it felt like she'd burst out of the buttons. "The dress it is."

The boss bat had been promised a noble title. Murphy yawned and went to her. Today the workshop was a mess, its employees recovering from massive overtime followed by wine. Zija was still bleary-eyed herself and yawning, exposing fangs. "Have a decent rest? We owe you. I owe you, personally, for what I did to you. Now that the worst is over, what do you want? I won't blame you if you want a bag of coins and a one-way ride out of here."

"But you can't send me home?"

"We don't know how. The summoning trick was an act of desperation to get someone magically neutral, unexposed. We barely understand it."

Murphy's ears drooped, but she'd expected that answer. "Given that I'm stuck, I do want the money to get started living somewhere besides a closet in a workshop. Also, more training in magic. It sounds like I'll be able to earn a living doing that."

"Because of your weird exposure, you've now got a strongly focused talent. Wards and water manipulation. Both of which are in demand, and you've got a reputation already."

"As a novice."

"A novice who helped save the city! Think of what you can do when you're trained. Since you're interested, either sign up with my firm or talk with the Glass Wind Guild; they're the ones who examined you."

"They're also busy fighting, aren't they?"

Zija said, "They've broken the enemy. You should be able to join as support. Speaking of which, how are you on clothing?"

"Besides my old clothes I just have this." She tugged at the dress.

"Get yourself something comfortable at Midnight's. Take this as an advance payment." She handed over a bag of silver, and gave directions.

#

It felt weird to have the run of the city of Emerald Falls, not being confined to keep herself isolated from the mixed magic. Now that she could sense mana, the flow stood out. An aquatic tinge filled the soggy streets. The multi-species crowd moved slowly through the day's muggy heat. Their eyes were wide or dull as they picked through the rubble. Most of that was rock and wood that'd been hurled here and sometimes embedded in the walls of this district, while most buildings themselves were intact.

Murphy got grabbed by one arm while trying to find the shop. She turned to find a ragged badger-man with a knife.

Murphy yelped. She had a little combat training back on Earth, in another body, and tried to kick the guy. Instead she stumbled and the mugger tried to drag her into an alley, saying, "Your money!"

She crashed into him on purpose instead of pulling away again. In the process she stepped on his foot and hit him with her full weight, sending them both toppling. He was as dazed as her. She sprang to her feet and ran away hissing.

Minutes later she felt safer. This street smelled of the river mud and sticks scattered everywhere, but was probably cleaner for the washing. The store called Midnight's had a sign showing a moon and stars. It stood between a cafe and a shuttered laundry place, on a street of apartments.

Murphy entered the shop, still shaken, and stared at shelves of cloth. The lower racks were empty, the rest stuffed. Inventory had been rearranged in case of floodwater.

A fox woman looked up from a workbench. "Are you all right?"

"I was walking around with money. I barely got away."

"Poor dear! Have a seat. Wine? And I'm happy to relieve you of any money the safe way, if you're interested."

Murphy accepted a cup. "Thank you. Zija sent me. Looks like your shop got through the flood well."

"Oh, it's you! I can see that weird aura. We're still here partly thanks to you. If you want something fancy it might take a while, but --"

"Simple is fine." She wasn't eager to start wearing frilly dresses. "I might be traveling upriver soon."

"I'm no armorer, so I hope you can stay out of more danger. Let me get your measurements."

Meanwhile there was another client, a slinky ferret wearing nothing but her fur. Murphy startled. "Is that even allowed?"

A younger fox, a near copy of the shopkeeper, bounded up to Murphy carrying a measuring tape. "Is what allowed?"

"She's got nothing on!"

The girl giggled. "No guys in here; it's fine. Why are you nervous? Anyway, she's trying stuff on, see?"

That client was twining colorful ribbons around her legs and tail. Murphy muttered, "I want more than that."

The measuring was quite a process. Murphy got posed and prodded to gather numbers she wasn't used to. "That's an unusual name," said the tailor. "And accent. Where are you from?"

"It's very far away. Zija can probably explain better than me."

"My girl says you're interested in the ribbons?"

"What? No, I want to actually be covered!"

"Why not both clothing and those? You can get them enchanted, though I don't do much of that process."

"Ah... maybe later."

The lady worked quickly, promising a new outfit within two days. Murphy thanked her, and shivered at the thought of setting foot outside. "Is the city always this dangerous?"

"People are desperate since the flood. It'll settle down again. The council has set up shelters already."

The tailor was nice enough to get Murphy one of her friends as an escort back to the workshop. There, Murphy said, "Can I help with the city shelter project?"

One of the journeyman mages said, "We've been asked, what with the barrier spells. Want to do some grunt work? We'll teach you."

Murphy was eager. The shop was now making more cheap widgets, triangular wooden blocks with etched designs suggesting walls. Now that she wasn't just a hands-off enhancement device, the spellcasters showed off techniques for repelling wind more than water. "Oh, it's kind of a dehumidifier."

She had to explain that there were machines to pull moisture from the air, and struggled to draw and describe air conditioning. Zija came in during the lecture and frowned at the blackboard diagrams and distracted workers.

"Sorry," said Murphy.

Zija quizzed her about the details, then said, "I never much asked you about what skills you bring. Did you build this stuff?"

"No, I was a clerk for a company that did."

"That's worth studying. If we can ever get out of panic mode." Zija sighed. "For now, everyone, please do it the way that we know works."

Which was fair. Murphy shrugged and reverted to being a magic student, hardly a downgrade from her perspective.

#

In two days, a fine outfit arrived. Murphy blushed as she held it out: a robe of lightweight linen, indigo-dyed, with silver trim and a low neckline. It was practical and would be comfortable against all this new cat fur. "A little revealing," she said.

A doe among the mages said, "May as well enjoy it. And really I've seen far less modest."

"Just ribbons?"

"On a famous wizard! If you're good enough, or pretty enough, nobody will complain much about showing your fur off. You've got one out of two already."

"I think I'll wait till I'm good at magic."

Murphy tried the dress on. It felt felt as though she were spilling out of the thing. But with a simple chest wrap it didn't show too much. It wasn't the biggest change to her daily life. She could deal with it. She steadied her breathing and nodded.

With that new clothing, Murphy was ready to move on.

#

The route to the highlands went through a long switchback trail and two cargo elevators made of wood and thick rope. Everyone assured her the system had been in place for decades and inspected yesterday. Magic for flight or levitation existed but wasn't easy enough to use for regular travel. So Murphy rode with a cart full of vegetables and hardtack going up the cliff. Beside the platform, the dam still lay with its top third in ruins, threatening to break worse and douse the city again. Men were at work all around the area to make repairs. Zija's team had been making the rounds below and explaining to Murphy about the spells she'd helped to channel.

The highlands spread out as Murphy ascended. The lake had dropped to expose muddy banks and a ruined building. A cool breeze blew here. Murphy found a military camp that intimidated her until she spotted a relatively inviting pavilion, the one that the food wagon was going to.

Getting there involved climbing a slope. Which gave her a view of a destroyed landscape. A plain of grass near the cliff rapidly gave way to trampled ground littered with bones. Beyond that battlefield the land had been stripped bare as by years of drought and locusts, out to the horizon.

A swordsman wolf in steel plate said, "First time seeing the highlands?"

Murphy startled. "What happened here? I thought our side won."

"We did. Defeat would've meant the skeleton horde spilling down like the river and killing its way to the sea."

"What caused this?"

The wolf spat on the ground. "The Congress of Necromancers. They're nearly all dead now; we're hunting the escapees and their now leaderless undead. Are you the trainee mage?"

Murphy attempted to bow. "Yes, sir. I'm an outlander and very ignorant of this land but will help if I can. I'm looking for the Glass Wind Guild."

"Come along then." He ushered Murphy through rows of tents, toward a larger tent hung with banners of constellations and runes.

The people here were distinctly non-military. Where the others Murphy had passed wore armor and livery suggesting a coalition of three kingdoms, here were wizards powerful enough to ignore dress codes. A stunning skunk lady in a starry robe was drawing on a table and speaking with a horse man whose bare chest made Murphy look away, and a little sand-colored fox man with a cape and ribbons that wouldn't stop fluttering.

The horse smiled and said, "The flood control lady? Great. We're busy right now, but we're about to do a barrier spell and you should watch and learn."

They went outside. A force of fifty soldiers waited, their wooden shields showing a sixfold circle emblem. In the distance a skeleton horde had assembled, literally still pulling itself into shape from scattered bones. The troops marched ahead and the mages followed. The undead began turning with the sound of rattling bones.

Murphy shivered. "Are we going to fight those?"

The fox said, "Hang back. Watch the pattern." He joined in with a three-part blur of light that gradually resolved into whirling triangles, drifting forward.

The skeletons charged screeching and clattering toward the army. The soldiers flinched but held their ground. Murphy tried to trust the defensive line and focus on the spell. Its technique was steady, less reactive to pressure, not deflecting impacts to the side. A wall of light appeared just in front of the troops an instant before sharp bony talons raked across it. Men swung maces and cracked ribs and arms. Incoming blows mostly got blocked to make it a one-sided brawl. The undead were too dumb to change tactics. So within minutes they'd all been smashed into piles -- and the soldiers kept swinging down.

Murphy let out a breath. "This is what happens when a necromancer doesn't clean up after himself?"

The horse said, "The bastards let their spells linger so that all the bones tend to spring back up. Even reassemble, in some places. So we keep having to bait clusters of these things into a fight. Did you follow the spellcasting?"

Murphy nodded, talking about what few details she understood. The stallion smiled, saying, "Good start. Maybe you can help with the next one, in a few hours."

"Day and night," muttered the skunk.

#

She got great field experience from helping to repel mobs of skeletons. The technique came easily and she was highly motivated. But over a few days of work, the attacks never stopped for more than six hours. Wherever the undead roamed, the land grew bleaker. There seemed to be no end to the bone supply. Support troops brought shovels and wheelbarrows to bring the stuff to clerics who blessed the hell out of it for reburial.

The effort meant getting woken irregularly while living in a tent hardly better than the troops'. Mage she might be, but there wasn't much luxury. She was living with one good dress and that first, borrowed one, neither of them great for roughing it.

On the fourth night, she woke to a roar of water. Wide-eyed, she ran outside and joined other people gaping at the dam. Another chunk of it had cracked despite the repairs, about to dump another several feet of the lake onto the city below.

"I've got to get down there!" Murphy said.

The skunk held her back from the elevator area. "No time. You can't hold back the tide but with your water experience you can slow it from up here. Come on."

The waterfall had stable enough banks that it was only moderately frightening to stand nearby. Murphy hurried toward the flow with the other wizards.

"Quickly now," said the fox. "You can take the lead on this one. You can push against water, give the people below a little reprieve."

Murphy had trouble aiming at a spot ahead of her. She targeted the river's edge, and got coached into taking the lead. A spell bubbled out from the river and became a shimmering barrier obstructing the current. The others' power joined in at her sides. The bubble stretched wider, wobbling at the fall's edge. Making it a bit higher. Some got through anyway, which was probably good. Murphy stumbled as though dragged toward the water. A guard yanked her back and more held the other mages, who were facing the same problem.

Murphy's fur stood on end and she panted. She was pushing against countless tons with her mind. Couldn't even see the land below. "Is it helping?"

The horse sounded strained. "It is! Hope your friends are good."

Were they friends? Zija had done what she could for Murphy after the initial trouble, and everyone in the shop had treated her well. Murphy struggled to keep the magic going for their sake, reducing the load on them.

It took long enough that she was shaking, vision blurred, and hardly heard when someone said, "Ease off, now." A ferret man in glittering mail got in front of her, waving. Murphy faltered and gasped as her part of the spell snapped.

"I've got it," he said, holding out one glowing hand toward the falls. "Now the rest of you. You all look about to drop."

Murphy's throat had gone dry. "All by yourself?"

"Stars, no." Four assistant mages had arrived in uniforms of orange and white similar to the ferret's clothes. With him briefly flaring with power, shouldering the spell, the whole group took over.

Murphy stood with her tail twitching, her hands on her knees. The ribbon fox looked little better. "Endurance training."

Murphy re-assessed the falls. Water was still pounding downward but not in a terrible surge. "Will what we did be enough?"

"With the cityfolk's skill, I'm sure. Let's rest."

Everyone watched the ferret's group. Murphy asked, "Who are you?"

"Orlanin," the man said. He didn't look comfortable; holding his arms out like that would get tiring even without magic. Still he forced a smile. "Haven't seen you before. Good work so far!"

Murphy blushed under her fur. "I'm Murphy. New to this."

The horse said, "We've been training her the hard way."

"Come back when you're rested."

A soldier in blue said to him, "Message from my lord, sir. More engineers coming in a moment with sandbags, but there are skeletons inbound."

Murphy groaned. The other mages grimaced. The fox said, "We're in no condition."

The horse sighed. "We'll move into position. Do what we can."

Murphy trudged along to join a group of soldiers forming a battle line. "I hope the necromancers got what they deserved."

The skunk lady rubbed her weary eyes. "Yeah. They managed to anger two kingdoms and a knightly order at once."

The fox added, "That's what happens when you rip up a big international graveyard."

The skunk's attention drifted toward the partly-drained lake. Her tail flicked high and Murphy sidestepped away by instinct. The experienced mage said, "Everyone? I don't mean to alarm you..."

"Are those *bones* in the lake?" asked the stallion.

The partial dam collapse had exposed a new layer of the lakebed. There, some ancient disaster had left so many bones that the layer of mud that'd just been torn away now gleamed dull white.

The fox said, "Better preserved than I'd have thought. Excuse me; I need to check whether --"

Before he reached the waterline, the bones began stirring from the necromancer's lingering spell.

Murphy yelped. "Too many!"

The horse stamped the ground. "Keep calm. Murphy, see that tent? Run and warn the commander."

Murphy started running. She wasn't as physically exhausted as she'd thought; it'd been more of a strain on her magic.

The command tent held officers who were already aware and mobilizing everyone. Murphy called out anyway. A junior staffer said, "What's the mage team doing?"

"The ferret guy and his team took over for the waterfall. My group's worn out."

"Lord Orlanin? We need him at the front! Tell him -- no, I will." He ran off to argue about priority.

Murphy caught her breath. She had no orders and little stamina. All across the exposed lakebed, the dead were rising. Misshapen skeletons, many species. Leaderless, they began staggering toward the nearest living flesh. Murphy joined up with a group of mace-wielding troops.

Their officer said, "You there, cat! Can you protect us?"

"Barely!"

"Try anyway."

She stood behind them and cast a flickering, wobbling barrier. The troops shrank back from this weak defense but their leader made them stand. A hundred or more skeletons had come and more were on the way toward camp, outnumbering the reinforcements who were still organizing. The dead raked and tore at the living, so that Murphy smelled fresh blood.

The screeching, rattling, and impacts of iron on bone and bone on armor and flesh made Murphy's ears lay back and her tail bristle. She was counting on the men here; she had only a knife and a borrowed club at her belt. The wall of light wobbled and flexed. That wasn't all bad; the wavering spoiled some of the bones' attacks. With a pop, though, it was gone completely. Now the undead pressed the living back step by step, raking at faces and arms.

"Mage!" said the officer.

"Trying!" Murphy struggled to re-cast and got almost nothing. Her ears burned. This was supposed to be her specialty. Again! Her weak spell wouldn't stabilize but for a second it pushed outward, driving skeletons away so that more maces crushed them. That was all; she couldn't manage anything more. Men were falling and getting trampled.

She stood behind the combat line. She could come forward and join them, be one more weapon arm preventing an outflanking. The vicious back-and-forth blows and the scent of blood made her lean back.

Reinforcements arrived. Hundreds of them marched into a ragged line of allies. Some units had their own spellcasters specializing in bolts of shattering lightning and conjured rocks. The enemy swarm kept coming, though. Now the ferret lord returned, creating a fleeting diagonal barrier that tripped up a whole line of foes. He didn't seem to have much more in him either.

Murphy called out, "What about the dam?"

"My group's letting it go gradually. No other option." The ferret used what little energy he had for quick, smart diversions to reinforce the line.

Murphy said, "I'm out."

"I'm little better off and I can't even make the formation look pretty."

She laughed, despite the stink of fear and blood. "Could we dump the lake onto them?"

"No way do we have the energy. Although... Wait!" He ran over to the nearest officer, who was trying to get in jabs of a spear over the shoulders of his shorter men. That soldier listened, then sent a wounded underling to spread word of a plan.

"What?" asked Murphy.

"We fall back. We have all the mages deflect the river for a few seconds, like so." He gestured for the direction and spell style. "Put whatever strength you have left into it. Redirect, don't control outright."

The army's coordination was poor. A general screamed at Orlanin's group to get back in formation but the ferret swore right back, barking a few words of explanation. The big wolf reared back and nodded, barking new orders to others.

The skeleton horde drove the mortals back to the waterfall's edge, but the living kept the undead in between them and the river. Orlanin's exhausted group had been trying to hold back the current. Their leader ran over to check on them, and waved for Murphy to follow. She was useless with more barriers right now anyway. More wizards had scurried into place along the river's far side, either already there or in a few cases making amazing leaps or flying.

At a signal, a spell went off. A blast of mana ripped up water and mud from the riverbank. Murphy felt its weight overhead. She yelped and pushed with her arms up, her fleeting traces of power going into steering the crushing mass in the right direction. The clumsily flung blob crashed into the skeleton horde along a curveball path and smashed into their formation, sending them tumbling by the hundreds off the cliff. Bones and mud and water, falling into the city.

She dropped to one knee, panting. Nobody looked much better off. The soldiers recoiled, and a few of them had been caught in the blast. A squad was rushing to snag a guy from the edge.

Skeletons still fought, indifferent to losing more than half their number in moments. The living troops forced themselves onward, clubbing and slashing until the mindless army lay in fragments.

#

In a command tent, Murphy was allowed to attend a general's meeting alongside the professional wizards. "Good response to the assault. Now we have to dredge the lakebed in case there's even more of that boneyard in hiding. With the necromancers' leftovers so thoroughly put down, I don't expect any more substantial attacks. Our lords have decided to stay for another two days just in case. We have time to recover."

Murphy asked, "What about the blighted land here? Can anything grow here again?"

The ferret answered, "Within a year or two, probably. That's half the reason for putting down the undead -- so they can't spread their corruption. There are a lot of displaced farmers."

The general scowled. "Which means desperate bandits. There's talk of them organizing under a man they call the Wheatgiver. Less pleasant than that sounds."

Orlanin said, "No end to your training, eh, Murphy?"

"This is your trainee?" the officer asked.

"Not mine, alas, but she's distinguished herself already with flood control."

"Hmm. A water specialist would help us root the robbers out of the swamp. You'll come with us then."

Murphy's ears lay back. "What? I just got through with the flood, and now fighting the skeleton horde!"

"You'll be more useful dealing with this new threat. And after that, there's an irrigation project to the north that's on the verge of collapse."

Murphy hissed, and her tail lashed and bristled. The commander stiffened, then laughed. "You're a civilian. May need to fix that soon. Dismissed. Rest up for now."

#

Murphy sought out the ferret man after a dinner of stale biscuits. She'd been fuming for an hour. What sort of life was ahead if she only got dragged from one crisis to another? "I don't want to do this anymore," she complained. "The emergency life isn't for me. I'm barely even trained."

"Sorry you've been rushed into things. You're learning quickly, at least, and your idea today helped."

She thought of the labors ahead. This man was some sort of noble; maybe he could protect her. It might even be nice to travel with him, she thought, blushing. Still, she'd made up her mind. "I plan to go back to the city."

Quietly he answered, "Check the elevator area."

Murphy took a walk. The waterfall still roared through the cracked dam as though it were a man with broken teeth. The rate of flow was reasonable again. The route back down to the city, though, had a squad of guards on duty. She approached and asked, "Will it be open again in the morning?"

"No, ma'am. We're under orders. Not until the crisis is done with."

She'd suspected as much. "Even for civilians?"

"Even so. You should return to your barracks."

She'd barely had time to start looking for better housing before joining what was supposed to be a volunteer effort! Murphy turned and stalked away, to find Orlanin again. She said, "I need more training. We pushed water around and did barriers, and I'm good at that, right?"

The ferret tilted his head. "Yes?"

"Well... Bandits are going to be somewhat different, and I want to know about pushing people away with a non-lethal amount of force. Some kind of flexible bubble maybe."

The expert mage scratched one ear. "I think I see. Let me teach you a trick I learned when I was studying on the fourth floor of a tower."

The lesson took until midnight. He made her practice repeatedly, checking her work and slapping the barrier around her until his hand couldn't tear through. At last he seemed satisfied, saying, "Good luck, Murphy. We're obviously going to be working together when the army moves again, so sleep now and expect a morning muster. If we don't get treated to more surprises yet tonight."

#

Murphy rested fitfully, trying not to sleep through the night. She'd been slowly refilling her magic supply over time but had spent much of it again in the lesson. Would it be enough? She held out one hand and conjured a flickering light with a basic technique she'd been taught. It was no strain, a good sign. She really had improved quickly.

She slipped out from her tent with appropriate feline stealth, and moved through the night toward the river. A splash, and she was in. Current stung and chilled her, waking her up more than her attempt to sneak past the elevator guards had done. Her dress billowed up around her and took on water. She hadn't planned how to handle that!

No time, now. She tried not to think too hard about the fall. She was good at emergency spells for just such an occasion. When she got knocked around at the dam's edge and slipped over the edge, screaming, she fired off her spell with great enthusiasm.

A bubble rippled around Murphy, made of water and force. She fell for several seconds and crashed. The magic slumped and deflated at the last moment like a cushion. Water roared around her. Being alive at all in this disorienting pond was a good sign! She struggled and pushed sideways while the current flung her downriver. Her soaked clothes were dragging her down. She struggled and tore at the already damaged fabric and ripped a big chunk of the lower half free. She tried to use that to snag anything along the bank. Her flailing got it caught on a rock, but she found herself clutching the cloth with her claws until the roots of them hurt. Current tore her away with a pained yowl.

At last she grabbed a dock and got rattled by the impact -- and torn away from it, her arms aching. She got hurled farther down the river.

Toward one of the flood control devices, still in place. Murphy magically clutched at it, pulling instead of pushing. The spell barely held, but she slapped one arm onto the riverbank and began to get control.

Onlookers had gathered. "What happened? Are you all right?"

Murphy coughed and got hauled out. The city around her looked damaged, but only the immediate falls area had been flattened worse than before. These people were vagrants, a soldier, probably a thief out prowling, and they'd run to see the source of the screaming. Had Murphy screamed? She'd lost track. She wheezed, "Yeah. Skeletons."

"Where?!"

Murphy realized how much of her dress was missing, and blushed, trying to cover herself with what was left of the bottom half. "No, no, we... We beat them. Did the falling bones do much damage?"

"Some, I hear," said the guard trying to take charge of the situation. "You're that flood mage, aren't you? And you survived the waterfall!"

"Learned a new trick." Murphy accepted his hand to stand up.  She ached all over, especially around her claws where she'd clutched for any grip on the shore. She added, "Old bones in the lakebed got exposed. The soldiers think they've beaten the last big group. Now the leaders want to go after bandits or something. It never ends."

One of the shabbier men here said, "Bandits? You mean like farmers who lost all their land?"

"Yeah. Not my business. I need a break."

The guard frowned in thought. "Let's get you somewhere safe. And... thanks for fighting up there."

#

Murphy was back in the same workshop the next morning, after a night on a bench in a guard quarters. Zija demanded an explanation and screeched when she heard about the escape. "That was some jump! You should have been a bat."

"I didn't land on my feet. The army might come after me now, calling me a deserter."

"That's crazy! You never enlisted and you're nobody's serf."

The guard escorting Murphy said, "Your team are heroes. I doubt the city council's going to let anybody pull rank and force you back up there. Besides, there's rebuilding to do here, still."

Zija added, "I've got a title now. Might as well invoke it. I request that Murphy here be allowed to remain in our city if she wants."

Murphy said, "Thank you both. Hopefully I helped, but I want to settle down for a while."

"Sounds like you need a house. Today. Then you'll formally be a resident as well as a hero -- and the council has a strong incentive to find you one and make it happen, before the nobles get down here to make demands. How about it?" Zija leaned back. "After we get you a bath."

Murphy's fur was matted, her clothes ragged, and she probably stank. "Yeah, that first."

It sounded like Murphy was still somewhat of a pawn, getting claimed by the city's authorities instead of the army. But that was an improvement, and they wouldn't own her. "I can work with that," she said, and smiled. There'd be time to train and grow more independent. "House-shopping it is. And then, I'm taking a day off."