Xiumin did not have what one would call sea legs. In fact, discounting the ship he was currently traveling on, he’d been out in the ocean twice before. He’d gone once for mandatory swim tests, and another for Luhan’s fifteenth birthday. Xiumin had nothing against the ocean personally, no bad experiences to draw on, but the churning of the waves and the bobbing of the ship made him nervous. More nervous than their quickly approaching destination.

“Are you going to stand stoically up here the entire trip? The officers already think you’re just about the coolest thing they’ve ever seen, and now you’re about three second away from making them swoon.”

Xiumin turned to look over his shoulder, bracing his hands more firmly on the railing to the ship, and told Chen, “If this thing goes over, I want a fair chance at making it off alive. I can swim.” Of course the biggest hurdle, other than the current, was probably the fact that by a swimmer’s pace he was probably half a day away from the Forbidden City’s dilapidated harbor.

“Unlikely to happen,” Chen said, the wind pushing through his hair. “This is the king’s pride and joy of the fleet. She’s the best ship ever built in every way, including safety.”

Xiumin did have to give the ship an appreciative look. She was sleek and smooth and seemingly perfect in her design. K boasted a tiny naval fleet, probably not even enough ships to be called that, and M’s wasn’t all that much bigger, with only fifty ships ready to deploy at a moment’s notice, but this ship was clearly built for something other than combat. It was wicked fast and cut through the water easily. What was several days travel by vehicle to the Forbidden City, was less than a day on the ship.

Begrudgingly, Xiumin said, “I doubt the king would have let Luhan take this thing if it wasn’t completely safe.” Or staffed by seven of the most decorated soldiers Xiumin had come across, three of them officers and two of them gifted.

“Right.” Chen nudged him a little. “So if you aren’t up here trying to be all stoic and manly, what are you doing? Thinking?”

“Yes,” Xiumin sighed out, because it wasn’t a lie. He was worried about bringing Luhan to the Forbidden City, and about being so completely cut off from the rest of M and any help that they might need. He was worried about what they’d find in the Forbidden City, if anything, and how it would affect them. Would it help or hurt?

This time there was no nudge, instead Chen was pulling at Xiumin, saying, “Come down below deck with me. We should relax while we can.”

A little reluctantly Xiumin followed Chen down the narrow steps that led to the rooms below the main deck. There were several in all on the first level, and three more levels down with even more space. Both Lay and Luhan had spent the better part of the morning resting in their private cabins, but they were now gathered in a bigger den-like room.

As Xiumin poured himself a drink from the nearby bar area, he could hear Luhan asking Lay quietly, “No, really, I’m interested. Tell me.”

Chen seemed completely disinterested in the conversation and had slipped onto a nearby recliner, his eyes closed. Xiumin had no doubt he was awake, on alert for any potential danger, but he also wasn’t paying any real attention to the conversation between the two friends.

“Well,” Lay said slowly, a slight blush to his cheeks, “I like his strength. And I don’t mean physical even though he has an … impressive physique.”

Luhan gave a haughtily laugh and explained, “Lay! That’s practically scandalous coming from you.”

Lay pressed on, “I like the strength he shows in adversity. His patience and understanding. I don’t know, Luhan. I just like him. Can’t you relate?”

Xiumin sipped at his drink, waiting for Luhan’s answer. They were very clearly talking about Lay’s recent courtship with Commander Suho. For anyone in K, where the old traditions had been abandoned, such a thing probably meant nothing, but for Lay who’s family was rooted deep in propriety, the importance of it couldn’t be understated. Especially with Lay’s closeness with the crown.

“I can,” Luhan said almost immediately.

At a near whisper, Lay asked, “What drew you to Kai? He was the enemy at the time. Was the draw a forbidden romance?”

Xiumin leaned a little closer to hear.

“He was never my enemy,” Luhan said just as quietly. “I had years and years to get to know him in my dreams. But if you must know, I first loved him because he made me smile more than anyone else. No matter what he did or said, it was always to make me smile, and maybe laugh. He always tried to lift my spirits and brighten my day. That’s an admirable quality in someone. Commander Suho has those as well.”

Lay shot back, “I like that Suho respects the things that are important to me, even if he doesn’t understand why. He follows all of the proper procedures in our courtship, even though I know he thinks most of them are silly, and he’s promised not to besmirch my honor in any way before the proper channels are taken first.”

Luhan quirked an eyebrow. “So he’s promised no to kiss you? At least not in public?”

“When are we ever together for something like that to happen?”

Easily, Luhan said, “You two will be seeing a lot of each other in the coming years. No matter who’s elected in K, Commander Suho will likely retain control of the military. That will require quite a lot of trips to M.”

Solemnly, Lay insisted, “Suho understands that a kiss witnessed by others is equivalent to a betrothal. We like each other, but we’re not sure we want to marry each other. And considering I’ve been lucky enough not to be promised to anyone, I want to take advantage of being able to choose.” A second later he seemed to register his words and said fiercely, “I’m sorry, Luhan. I just meant--”

“I know what you meant,” Luhan waved off. “And our situations are different. You know that. But I think you’re good for each other. Oddly enough you suit each other. Of course, Lay, you know that if there is a betrothal, and a marriage, you’ll have to move to K.”

That was a sudden thought that Xiumin hadn’t considered. He supposed he’d taken for granted that all of his closest friends would remain with him in the palace. The thought of losing Lay, even to a happy marriage, was distressing.

“I couldn’t leave you,” Lay protested. “What if you needed me?”

Luhan said, “When all of this is dealt with, I’ll be less vulnerable, and you know it. I’ll always need you as a friend, but I won’t need you for more than that.”

Xiumin moved to a nearby sofa and let himself perch on the edge of it as the ship shifted course. The ship was big and practically soundless, but Xiumin could still feel the engine under his feet, and he could feel the turns. They had to be coming up on their destination soon.

Xiumin was so distracted by his thoughts he barely heard Lay say, “--I’ve never asked you about your visions before. I firmly believe they’re gifted to you for a reason, and it’s not my place to pry. But about the future …”

“Have I seen anything of yours?” Luhan posed gently.

“I’m not even sure I’d want to know,” Lay said quickly.

The future was something even Xiumin was curious about. And it was a slight letdown as Luhan said, “The future is always in motion, Lay. Some things can be changed and some can’t, but I’ve never fully been able to tell which is which. What we do today may influence the future that we currently have to such a degree that me telling you anything could be pointless.”

“I guess you’re right,” Lay said with a smile. “I just wanted to know if I get my happy ending.”

A warning chime rang through the ship as Luhan leaned forward to tell Lay, “You are a good friend, Lay, and an amazing person. People who do the kind of good that you do, get happy endings. Trust me.”

Chen sat up. “What’s that sound?”

“Land’s approaching,” Luhan said, getting to his feet. He didn’t sway the slightest as the ship continued to make a tight turn, proving that he’d mastered his sea legs long ago. “That’s the captain sending a message down to the engine room to cut the power down to a minimum. The water is shallow up ahead.”

From a nearby window Xiumin could see the Forbidden City starting to come into view. Even with its destruction it was magnificent. Of course it was a magnificent radioactive deathtrap. But that part wasn’t what he wanted to concentrate on.

The door to the cabin crashed open and the captain of the vessel, and older looking man who’d probably been appointed to his position by the king’s father in his younger years, bowed sharply to Luhan an announced, “There’s a transmission from the palace, your majesty. It’s from the king directly. He’s asking to speak to you quickly. It’s very important. There’s been an incident.”

Luhan tore off almost right away, and Xiumin was right behind him, trusting Chen to stay with Lay. Lay’d never exactly been assigned a protective detail, not like the royal family had, but between himself and Chen and Tao, and some of the others, it was an unspoken rule that Lay was to be protected as well. And now, with them in unfamiliar territory, there was a need for it ever more than usual.

“Kris?” Luhan asked, taking an earpiece from a nearby officer when they reached the bridge of the ship. He was quiet for a second, listening to his husband, and Xiumin tried to reign in his curiosity. Luhan was sure to share the news, whatever it was, with them in only a minute more.

They were sailing into the harbor of the Forbidden City by the time Luhan was demanding, “What happened? I thought it was supposed to be a simple reconnaissance mission. Kris, how did this happen? How badly hurt is he?”

Xiumin perked at the words. Someone was hurt, and considering the words spoken, it had to be someone from the mission to the Deadlands.

“No,” Luhan continued. “I understand. No, I don’t need him. I swear it. Please, Kris.”

Xiumin felt the engines cut out completely, and then they were just going with the momentum, the captain attentive at the wheel as he looked for a safe dock.

“I’ll be fine,” Luhan huffed out.

“Your majesty?” the captain called out, a finger stretched out at the bridge’s giant windows in a point. “There’s a figure up ahead. It looks to be a man.”

Luhan said into the communication device, “I see him, Kris. I’ll contact you again very soon. Trust me, okay?”

“Your majesty?” the captain said again, clearly looking for direction.

“It’s okay,” Luhan said, tapping the ear piece to end the call. “It’s Kai.”

The ship wasn’t completely docked before Kai appeared before Luhan on the bridge, a bright white bandage across his forehead.

Luhan demanded right away, “How bad is Chanyeol hurt? Wait, how badly are you hurt? Kris didn’t say anything about you being hurt.”

As if on cue, Kai listed almost violently to the side. Xiumin charged forward with Luhan, the both of them intending to anchor Kai in place. Instead both were startling back a little as Kai shouted, “Don’t touch me!” He staggered a little, then gave Luhan a soft look. “I don’t want to hurt you. I can’t risk it, so … don’t touch me.”

Luhan squared his shoulders. “You would never hurt me.”

“Not on purpose,” Kai mumbled softly, and Xiumin felt his distain over their previous indiscretions weaken. There was such agony in the way Kai and Luhan looked at each other now, and Xiumin could barely stand to see his best friend suffer so much.

Chen and Lay emerged up the stairwell and onto the bridge as Luhan asked Kai shakily, “What’s wrong?”

“We were attacked,” Kai explained a little shakily. His eyes were wide and he was practically vibrating. He seemed almost as if he were on some sort of recreational drug.

Luhan seemed to notice as well, and asked hesitantly, “Kai? Tell me. You’re worrying me.”

“What’s going on?” Lay asked, taking a step forward. He clasped a hand around Kai’s wrist and Xiumin watched Lay’s face for any sign that he was healing.

“We were attacked,” Kai said once more. “I hit my head. Concussion.”

“That’s for sure,” Lay said. “Now hold still.”

A half second later Kai was rocketing off his feet and Lay was halfway across the bridge in a heap.

“What was that?” Chen demanded, bounding over to Lay to help him up, Luhan scurrying after him with concern.

Without hesitation Xiumin reached down for Kai, and like with Lay there was an immediate reaction.

“Duck!” Xiumin shouted, pressure building in his body until it was releasing in a burst of ice shards.

“Xiumin!” Chen shouted, pressing Luhan’s head down protectively. “What the hell!”

“Wow,” Lay said, shaking his hand. “That was a power surge.”

Xiumin nodded with wide eyes. “You’re telling me.”

Eyes a little more clear, Kai blinked a few times. “I feel much better.”

“What did you do?” Luhan asked him, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Kai? What have you done?”

Without an ounce of guilt, Kai told Luhan, “The hit I took in the attack really rattled me. I couldn’t think straight. I could barely walk in a straight line. I just knew that Chanyeol was hurt worse than me and I had to get him to the palace for Lay. I had to get Chanyeol help immediately. I just didn’t think I could do all of that so soon after the battle.”

“So?” Luhan prompted.

Kai cut him a look. “So I made a detour to pick up my orb.”

Lay said confidently, “That would explain why my ability experienced the sudden boost right after I touched you. A volatile boost. And why Xiumin nearly decapitated some of us.”

“I feel great,” Kai said, “if it’s any consolation. I still feel wicked powerful, but less like I’m going to explode from some sort of internal pressure.”

“That was so dangerous,” Luhan said, reaching for Kai, only to have him duck out of the way again.

“Better if you don’t touch me,” Kai said hastily. “Anyway, I’m here to get Lay. Chanyeol was hurt in the fight and he needs a healer right away. He needs the best healer. He’s really bad. He might … we need you, Lay.”

“Wait,” Xiumin protested, pushing at Lay as harshly as he dared when the healer reached for Kai presumably “We need Lay here. Luhan’s going into the Forbidden City to potentially make contact with Mama. That’s got all the potential to mess him up. I can’t let you take the one person who can help him afterwards.”

Anger sparked across Kai’s face. “Did you miss the part of the conversation when I said that we were attacked? We went out to the Deadlands and these … shadow things attacked us. The enemy. Chanyeol took a hit full on, protecting Baekhyun. He had direct contact!”

Xiumin’s eyes flicked to Luhan’s face as he paled, asking, “He had contact?”

Kai gave a stern nod. “He’s already starting to exhibit symptoms. On his skin. He doesn’t have long. We need Lay to try and heal him. I don’t know if it’s going to do anything, but we have to try.” Kai dragged his fingers through his hair roughly and exhaled loudly. Then he said quietly, so not to be overheard by the bridge crew surrounding them, “Look, I know this isn’t something you want to hear, but I love Luhan more than anything else in this world, and I would never, absolutely never, do anything to put him in danger or even risk it. I know he needs Lay here. I know everything about this is dangerous, but I’m telling you I trust Luhan to be okay right now, because Chanyeol needs Lay, and I can’t go back without him. Chanyeol won’t survive without him. So this is me, standing here telling you that I prioritize Luhan over everyone on this planet, and I’m still asking for Lay to go with me.”

Immediately Luhan was reaching for Lay, pulling him towards Kai, commanding, “Go with him, Lay. Chanyeol is in danger. You have to do whatever you can. I’ll be fine here.”

“You don’t know that,” Xiumin interjected. He hated that Luhan was looking at him like he was crazy. Or worse, the enemy. It was true Chanyeol wasn’t a friend, but he was an ally, and Xiumin fully understood what Kai was saying, but Lay was still needed with them. The risk to Luhan was too great for him not to put up a fuss.

“Xiumin,” Chen eased out, looking conflicted. “A man’s life is at stake here.”

“I can’t let you take him,” Xiumin told Kai first, letting his gaze stray over to Luhan, then Chen, so he was understood. “I recognize your feelings for Luhan, Kai, and the situation with Chanyeol. But if you truly did prioritize Luhan, you wouldn’t be asking this.”

“I’ll make it an order,” Luhan threatened.

“What if something happens to you?” Xiumin argued with him. “What if you need Lay?”

“I might, it is a real possibility,” Luhan challenged, “but Chanyeol certainly does. And I won’t argue with you over this. Lay is going. Kai will bring him back if he can. If not, I’ll deal. This is happening, and if you test me on this Xiumin, it might break something with us. I don’t want that. Do you?”

Lay reached for Kai once more, and this time there was no shock throwing them apart. But Xiumin could see the way Lay shuddered at the contact.

“I’ll do whatever I can,” Lay promised, and then he and Kai were gone.

With an awkward clearing of his throat, Chen said, “We should get going. We’re close enough now to have already started the timer for how long we can be here before we start to get sick. We need to move if we’re going to do this at all.”

“Xiumin,” Luhan said kindly, moving to stand in front of him. “Baozi.”

Feeling frustrated, and even betrayed, Xiumin told him, “Why don’t you understand that you’re my first and only consideration here? I want Chanyeol to be okay, too. We need him, and I know he’s important. But no one will be more important to me than you. I have to put you first, and that means making had calls. Do you understand that? Do you get it at all? Your boyfriend talks a good game, but I can’t excuse him wanting something like this that could impact you. This isn’t him prioritizing you.”

“No,” Luhan cut back, “it’s him trusting me. It’s something not a lot of people do. He trusts me to be okay for five seconds, and to not need to be coddled and protected and watched over endlessly.”

Xiumin pursed his lips, and after taking a moment to censor himself, told Luhan, “We won’t agree on this situation. And I won’t forgive you for undermining me in front of our friends and my fellow soldiers. This is my job, Luhan … and … sometimes I think our friendship hurts my ability to do it.” He was getting angrier by the second, and needed a second to cool off. The last thing he wanted to do was snap at Luhan, but he was barely keeping his temper in check

Luhan posed quietly, “You regret our friendship?”

Xiumin shook his head, and said, “You know that isn’t true. But it makes this hard. Really hard, sometimes. And that line that I have to be careful not to cross with you, the one that’s always there, hanging over my head, it’s getting harder and harder to see, Luhan.”

Luhan ducked his head in wordless acceptance, and Xiumin couldn’t help thinking that maybe they’d already broken something between them.

There was just enough time for Chen to tell the captain, “We might be coming in hot as far as time goes. We’ll need to get as far away from the city as possible when we’re done. Be ready to go the second we appear.”

Then the three of them were making the short, five minute walk to the area where Kai and Tao had both claimed to have their experience with Mama.

“Are you still mad at me?” Luhan inquired after Xiumin had been quite for a while. “I’ve been thinking about what you said. I don’t think it was wrong, even though you probably don’t think you were wrong, either, but I didn’t say the right words. I’m sorry for embarrassing you in front of the others, and being tactless.”

“No, I’m not mad anymore,” Xiumin sighed out, because it was the truth. He wasn’t mad at Luhan. He just wanted Luhan to realize the pecking order. Regardless if it was fair or right, Luhan was always going to be the priority and there was nothing to be done about it.

“You seem mad.”

“I’m not. I promise.” But he was still hurt.

They climbed the stairs to the temple shortly after that, and all of the worry in Luhan seemed to melt away. His eyes widened and suddenly he was darting forward, almost childlike, leaving both Xiumin and Chen behind.

“Hey!” Xiumin shouted.

Xiumin was absolutely sure that Luhan had never been in the temple, let alone the Forbidden City, but he seemed to know exactly where he was going, passing from the main foyer and entrance way to the deeper inner channels of the temple.

Xiumin was hot on his heels when a sudden shiver ran through his body, making him skid to a stop. Something pulled at his stomach and he couldn’t fight it.

“Xiumin?” Chen inquired, obviously unsure as to what to do. Luhan was traveling further from them, but Chen was reluctant to move after him without Xiumin.

“Go after him!” Xiumin urged right away, placing the task of keeping Luhan in eyesight ahead of his own status. “Don’t let him get too far ahead. I’ll be right behind you.”

Chen needed no further prompting and was running at full speed a moment later.

Xiumin struggled to take a step forward after his two companions, but he couldn’t deny the urging in him to move in a different direction. In fact, testing out the waters proved that moving towards the left far wall of the main chamber was a breeze, but anywhere else was as struggle.

“Okay,” he huffed out, understanding. “I get it.” He was eternally nervous about leaving Luhan’s safety to Chen, no matter how capable and competent the man was. But the compulsion he was experiencing to head his own way was one that couldn’t be denied.

Going by the feeling in his gut he was able to find a partially blocked off staircase that led up to the second floor balcony of the temple. The stairs creaked under Xiumin’s weight, giving the impression that they were going to give out at any second, but he pressed on, trusting in Mama.

The feeling and compulsion vanished almost the second he was standing in front of a large tapestry. The life tree was prominently displayed on it, though it was covered with a film of dust and debris that was so thick he had to beat at the art to get a better look at it.

Not unexpectedly were the twelve symbols spread out around the life tree.

“What are you trying to tell me?” Xiumin mused aloud.

He ran his fingers along the tapestry, feeling the threads. He was nearly overwhelmed by the history in front of him.

Only, there was no way Mama had led him away from Luhan and to tapestry without there being a reason for it. Mama probably appreciated art, but this was way more than that. Xiumin could sense that in his chest.

He studied the tapestry for several more minutes, finding nothing overly special about it. He was nearly ready to give up, and maybe go get Luhan to help him, when his boot caught in one of the larger creases in the rooting ground underneath him. He reached instinctively for the tapestry to steady himself, already cursing his lack of grace.

The tapestry came down from the weight of Xiumin’s pull, and behind it were the faintest outlines of what looked like a doorway.

He remarked, “ Never let it be said that clumsiness doesn’t have its uses.”

There was no handle to the door shape, and the odd material it was made out of didn’t register with any that Xiumin knew. But something told him it was certainly a door, and there was something important behind it.

“How do I get you open?” Xiumin asked. He tried pushing on it to no avail, really putting his weight behind it, but it didn’t budge an inch.

What good was a door if he couldn’t get it open?

Impatiently Xiumin tapped his foot on the floor and said, “I’m supposed to be one of your guardians, Mama. Help me out here.” He reached out to absently draw his symbol on the door, dragging the dust around. “I bet you’d open right up for Luhan. You play dirty with favorites like that.”

The hissing from the wall, like a pressurized seal being broken, startled Xiumin terribly. He jumped back a few paces and was about to call out when he noticed the dust shaking free from the door. The lines of his symbol remained, however, and then the wall was opening up to reveal a small, perfectly preserved chamber.

“Very cool,” Xiumin had to remark. “And I take back everything you said about playing favorites.”

There were various texts in the small room, and a few figurines. But drawing Xiumin’s attention completely was the small wooden box tucked in an alcove. Xiumin had seen a similar box before, less than a few days previous. It was in fact identical to the one that Baekhyun and Chen had rescued from the cave system in K, if in better condition.

However instead of the six symbols he’d seen on the other box, this one had six different pictures etched into it. Xiumin found his own quickly and ran his hands almost reverently over the box before popping it open to find the six orbs he’d expected.

“Well played, Mama.”

He left everything else, though there’d probably be an uproar from several people including Lay over leaving the books behind, and brought only the box with him.

“Luhan?” Xiumin shouted, carefully navigating his way down the stairs. “Chen?”

He headed in the direction they’d gone, holding the box preciously. He’d seen what one of the orbs had done to Baekhyun. If they worked that way with all of them, they were going to be the single most important items for the upcoming battle against the shadows.

The temple’s floor plan was fairly straightforward, and before long he was going down the last possible hallway. There’d likely only be a room or two left that they could have entered.

“Luhan!”

In his haste and fright from suddenly seeing Luhan sprawled out on the floor of the prayer room, Xiumin dropped the box. He didn’t stop to see the damage as he spotted Chen not too far away from Luhan, also motionless.

“Luhan!” Xiumin reached his side and rolled him over to his back, breath catching as he stared down at the open but sightless eyes that belong to Luhan.

And then Xiumin was falling. Until he wasn’t.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

Xiumin frowned, looking over to Chen. Around them the smell of nature was overpowering and the sound of rain clicking down around them was pleasant. But Xiumin was at a loss as to how he’d gotten himself to the middle of a forest, standing next to Chen who was holding an umbrella over their heads to block out the rain.

“What’s going on?”

Chen tipped the bright red umbrella back a little, reaching a hand out to catch drops on his fingers. He turned his hand over in fascination and said, “I think we’re in a waiting room of some sort.”

Xiumin shook his head. “We were in the temple. I found something, and then I went looking for you and Luhan.” Fear flushed through him. “Where’s Luhan?”

“Over there,” Chen said easily. He nodded his direction across the densely packed forest. “He’s having a nice conversation with Mama, I think. Mama is hot.”

Xiumin’s eyes searched across the tree trunks and green forest around him until he settled on the sight of Luhan. Luhan was tucked in close to someone, and wearing a sky blue raincoat with matching rain boots. He was engrossed in whatever was being said to him by a taller, extremely attractive man.

“My head hurts,” Xiumin said, feeling a little numb. “I think I fell and hurt it.”

“Nah.” Chen grinned. “The best I can figure is that Luhan’s having a vision, and we got dragged into it. I mean, check out our clothes. Great, right?”

It was only then that Xiumin realized he was dressed in a yellow, rubbery coat that protected him from any of the wetness that splashed up from the ground or managed to sneak around the umbrella. Chen had his own matching outfit.

“So,” Xiumin eased out slowly, “Luhan’s having a vision. And we’re having it with him?”

Chen said, “I think so. And really, who thought Mama would be a really good looking guy.”

Xiumin turned for another look at the man. And it was true, he was handsome with strong features and a kind smile. He pressed a hand to Luhan’s cheek and though Xiumin couldn’t hear what was being said, it seemed comforting even from a distance.

“Mama doesn’t have a gender,” Xiumin said. “Mama isn’t a person, Chen. We just use a female pronoun to keep from confusing ourselves.”

Chen rocked back a little on his feet. “I hope Luhan’s getting some important information over there. They’ve been talking for hours.”

“They can’t have been,” Xiumin denied with a frown. Luhan and Chen had managed maybe twenty minutes on him, at the very most.

“It’s been hours for me,” Chen insisted. “But I’m just going to guess that time works differently in a dream or vision.”

Tentatively, Xiumin asked, “Should we go over there?” The conversation between Mama and Luhan seemed a private moment, but Xiumin hated being left out of important things. If they were talking about the upcoming solar alignment, Xiumin wanted to hear what was being said.

“Can’t,” Chen said, passing the umbrella off to Xiumin. “I tried the second we ended up here and I was separated from Luhan. I can get about as far as that log over there, then I’m suddenly back here in the blink of an eye. It’s confusing, kind of like Kai must feel when he teleports. It’s instantaneous.”

“What’s with the rain?”

Xiumin let the umbrella fall to the wayside and suddenly his hair was wet, and the rain was starting to slide down his neck to the clothing he wore under his raincoat. It felt real. It felt exactly like being caught in a summer storm, because it wasn’t cold at all. It was just about as wonderful as rain could be.

Chen posed, “Maybe it’s supposed to be symbolic. I don’t know. I just hope that we don’t end up like Tao and Kai did. They got flung out of the vision they were sharing with Mama, but that could be chalked up to Luhan not being there to anchor it. Mama did say that they weren’t supposed to be here without Luhan.”

“Oracle,” Xiumin said quietly. “Tao said she kept asking for the Oracle.”

A heartbeat later Chen turned to Xiumin and asked, “You said you found something? Before this happened?”

Xiumin gave a firm nod. “I think I found our box. The box with our symbols on it. I mean, I don’t think, I know. It has six orbs in it. But I … I might have dropped it.”

“Hey,” Chen interrupted, pointing again to Luhan. “Something’s happening.”

Mama was reaching out, clasping either side of Luhan’s face. Then Mama was pressing a kiss to Luhan’s forehead and Luhan was crying. Luhan was falling to his knees and sobbing harshly and Mama was simply standing there, looking so sorrowful Xiumin could have mistaken Mama for a real person.

“What’s that about?” Chen asked, looking like he was barely holding himself back from trying to head over there once more.

Xiumin felt himself go stiff as Mama looked over to them for the first time. “I think we’re about to find out.” He could see Mama’s mouth moving, saying something to Luhan who was nothing but a heap on the wet ground.

“Yeah?” Chen asked. “I don’t suppose you read lips.”

“Something’s wrong,” Xiumin said confidently. “Something is really wrong.”

“Look at Luhan’s face,” Chen said, looking ashen himself.

Xiumin felt his stomach bottom out. The look on Luhan’s face was … one of utter surrender.

“I’m not staying here,” Xiumin ground out, determined to get to Luhan.

He’d only started out towards Luhan when Chen called after him in a reminder, “I already tried, Xiumin!”

“I don’t care,” Xiumin snapped back, catapulting himself over a nearby log. He dared Mama to try and stop him. He dared anyone.

And miraculously a second later he was at Luhan’s side. He was dropping down next to him, pushing at Luhan’s wet bangs, asking him softly, “Are you okay?” Xiumin looked up at Mama’s handsome, masculine face and demanded, “What did you say to him to make him this upset?”

Luhan sniffled a little helplessly. “I’m okay, Baozi.”

Xiumin flinched back as Mama’s hand came down on top of his head. It was a feather light touch, but there was no denying the power behind it.

“You are all my children,” Mama said, Chen huffing and puffing as he came up behind them with the umbrella, holding it over Xiumin and Luhan. “And my love for you is immeasurable. Never forget this.”

“How do we win?” Xiumin barely managed, feeling Luhan shudder next to him. “What can we do? Tell us everything we need to know.”

Luhan choked out another sob and Xiumin pulled him closer. It was only for a moment he took his eyes off Mama, but when he looked back Mama was gone, and the rain was letting up almost immediately.

“Are you okay?” Chen asked, kneeling down beside them. “Luhan? You’re so pale.”

Before Luhan could give any kind of reply the world was rippling around them, and then they were waking up.

Xiumin dragged in a deep breath as he pulled himself up to his hands and knees. He was back in the temple, his heart beating thunderously in his chest. He coughed loudly, clutching at his chest, disoriented and uneasy.

Nearby, Chen barked out, “Is it always like this?” He was coughing too, swaying dangerously on his knees.

Luhan was the only one seemingly unaffected by the shift, laying on his back, staring up at the rainbow tiles on the ceiling of the prayer room.

“Luhan?” Xiumin broached, leaning over Luhan to block his line of sight. “Are you okay?” He reached over to brush at Luhan’s bangs affectionately. “How do you feel?”

“Sick,” Luhan said simply, then curled onto his side, hugging himself. He was crying shortly after that, drawing in sharp, heart wrenching gasps of air.

Xiumin looked quickly over to Chen. “What time have you got on the clock?”

Chen held up his wrist, a watch and digital countdown flashing on it. “Forty-Nine minutes. We need to get moving. We don’t have much time left.”

Xiumin staggered a little on his feet, then steadied himself and reached down for Luhan. “Come on,” he said. “We have to get moving or you’ll feel even sicker.” Luhan was light enough that Xiumin could physically pull him up without any help. But it was how quiet he was being that worried Xiumin the most.

“I take it this is what you found?” Chen asked, coming up next to Xiumin, holding the box out for him.

“Luhan, Chen.” Xiumin reached for it, then opened it for them both to see. “I found ours. Mama guided me towards it.”

Chen’s watch gave a shrill beep and he said, “That’s our ten minute warning.”

“We’re going now,” Xiumin said, pushing gently at the small of Luhan’s back. “Either we got what we needed or we didn’t. But we’re going.”

It took some time to get back to the ship, despite knowing the way with more familiarity. Chen led them, the box tucked carefully under one arm, and Xiumin ended up pulling Luhan more than anything else, trying to get him to keep up on his own.

Something was wrong with Luhan. He wouldn’t meet Xiumin’s eyes, didn’t want to speak, and his movements were slow, almost lethargic. He was pale, more sickly looking than ever before, and Xiumin didn’t like the vacant expression on his face. The tears, too. They wouldn’t stop coming, and Luhan wouldn’t explain why.

“Your majesty,” the captain called out, waving to them from the dock when they were close enough. “We need to leave quickly.”

“I know,” Chen yelled back, “we’re cutting it close.”

But Xiumin could see something else was the matter, carefully hidden on the captain’s face, but not in his tone when he spoke.

When they were up the ramp and on the ship, Xiumin told Chen, “Go get Luhan settled in his quarters. I need to talk to the captain.”

He made his way quickly to the bridge, leaving behind his two friends, and asked the captain directly, “What’s going on?”

Almost immediately the engines powered to life, the floor rumbling as they worked at maximum strength.

“There have been several calls from the palace,” the captain relayed. “From the captain of the guard specifically.”

Xiumin felt his stomach drop. “Is the king okay?” Tao’s main concern was the king, and he hardly acted for anything else.

Quietly, so the rest of the crew on the bridge couldn’t overhear them, the captain said, “The captain of the guard was asking for his majesty’s swift return. There’s a problem at the palace.”

Kai. It had to be about Kai who’d shown up to take Lay from them because Chanyeol had been injured. Maybe … Xiumin hated to think it, but maybe Chanyeol’s injuries had been beyond Lay. Even Lay had limits to what he could do. Or what if it was Kai who was more injured than they’d first thought. If Luhan lost Kai … that wasn’t something Xiumin thought Luhan could come back from.

“What kind of problem?”

“A time sensitive one,” the captain said, then moved to the helm to guide the ship away from the Forbidden City.

“Is there a problem?” Chen asked when Xiumin made the trek down to the main area below deck.

Honestly he replied, “I don’t know. Where’s Luhan?”

“Resting, I hope. I mean, I got him to lay down and stop crying, so there’s that. But Xiumin, doesn’t he seem a little … off to you? Luhan always sort of lives in his own world, but this is different.”

With a low groan Xiumin took a seat nearby. “He seems pretty shaken up. I don’t have a clue what he and Mama were talking about, but it doesn’t seem like it went over that well.”

The ship gave a strong, sudden jerk underneath them and Chen flailed for a second, demanding, “What’s was that?”

Xiumin pursed his lips. “There’s an incident at the palace. Before you ask, I don’t know what it is, only that Luhan is needed. The captain is obviously trying to push the ship to its limits.”

“Why not get the teleporter? That would be faster.”

Leaning back, Xiumin relayed, “Truthfully, I think the issue is him. I think it’s bad, too. I hope I’m wrong, but I don’t know. He said he’d bring Lay back, and he doesn’t seem the type to break his word. If he can’t get back, that means this thing happening at the palace is either about him, or Chanyeol. Neither option is good.”

“Can’t we catch a break?” Chen wondered, then stretched for a second before jerking a thumb down the hallway. “I’m going to rest for a bit, too. I’ll keep my door open and I’ll take the room directly across from Luhan. Are you going to be okay? You look a little shaken yourself.”

“I’ll be fine,” Xiumin assured. He waved Chen off towards a room and went to pour himself a drink.

Five minuets later he went to check on Luhan. He poked his head slowly into his cabin, trying not to disturb Chen across the hallway. “Luhan?”

Curled into a small ball on the bed, Luhan met Xiumin’s gaze with dull eyes. “Baozi.”

Xiumin closed Luhan’s door to a crack behind him, toed off his shoes and then made his decision. He knelt up on the bed, scooting to Luhan’s side, then pressed in close to him. He caught Luhan’s fingers with his own, laced them together, and leaned his forehead against Luhan’s.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he pleaded. “You know you can trust me. You know I am your best friend and your greatest ally. Tell me.”

After minutes, endless minutes, Luhan squeezed Xiumin’s hand in such a fierce way that it almost hurt.

“It’s …”

“Yes?” Xiumin prompted gently.

In a rush, with a cracking voice, Luhan revealed, “This is the end, Xiumin. Mama is dead now.”

“Dead?” Xiumin startled, jerking backwards.

Luhan gave a weary, heavy nod. “And she isn’t the only one.”