Chanyeol kept his gaze flickering between the window and the rear-view mirror. He hadn’t caught a glimmer of magic from his taxi driver, but it was a weak assurance. Power could be hidden. Chanyeol had taken the backseat but, to his irritation, the driver was one of those young, chatty types.

“You’re traveling very light, did they lose your luggage on the flight?”

“No, I don’t like to take things with me.” Chanyeol replied stiffly.

“Your Korean is very good.”

“I used to live here.” But he had to run. Away from his previous Guild, SM, towards freedom. SM didn’t like mages leaving. Many had tried, a lucky few succeeded.

“Oh, when did you leave?”

“A long time ago.” Four years, to be exact, and he’d sworn to never return, lest SM capture him again. He relaxed his surveillance for a while to reach for his phone. Kyungsoo was expecting a call. It was picked up on the third ring.

“Chanyeol?”

“It’s me. I’m still alive.”

A relieved sigh. “Thank god. You heading to the motel?”

“Yeah. I’m not exactly in top condition though.” Chanyeol shifted and bit down a wince. His jacket hid most of it but his shirt was stiff with blood, bruises splotched down his arms and the cut down his neck felt tight and swollen. The magic in his veins would heal him up by morning, sewing his body back together again. Too bad they couldn’t sew up his heart. “Where’s Kris?”

“Chanyeol…”

He closed his eyes in horror. Caught. Must have been. “Is he ok?”

“He’s alive – that’s all I know. Look, I’ll tell you when I see you. Keep your eyes open, they’re still on you.”

“I know.” Chanyeol hung up.

 

Motels were no-man’s land, no Guild of Mages could cast their magic there. It was an unspoken rule, one of the few SM had actually followed during Chanyeol’s time, and he hoped that they still did. Kyungsoo was as straight and to-the-point as Chanyeol remembered him to be. He’d barely shoved the phone back into his pocket before the damn driver was talking again. 

How old are you? Where did you come from? Where is your hometown? The weather has been cold lately, is it warmer back in China?

Wait.

Chanyeol hadn’t mentioned Beijing or China or any other country at all.

 

He stayed relaxed in his seat and settled his nerves. He was too exhausted for another magical fight. SM was efficient, as they always were, and mages had been waiting for him at the airport. Outside, it was fully dark but Seoul was a city that never truly fell asleep, even in this more residential area. Fire magic was good and all, but it was dangerous around civilians and not a particularly stealthy style of fighting. If there was going to be a fight, it would be with his hands and that penknife he bought from the store not an hour before. 

Chanyeol glanced at the rearview mirror again, this time searching for something in particular. When a mage joined a Guild, they were given a contract, a tattoo under their left ear. He caught a glimpse of ink on the driver’s skin. A simple hexagon. An SM mage. Chanyeol used to have one. All that was left of his was a scar.

He reached into his backpack, pretending to rifle around for something. SM was known for bringing magic to a fist fight and he needed all the advantage he could get. 

It looked like he wasn’t getting to that motel. Kyungsoo would still be able to find him… hopefully alive.

 

“Hey, ah –” Chanyeol glanced around for some sort of name, reading off the driver’s identification. It probably wasn’t real. “Mr… Park,” oh what a coincidence, “I think I’ve left something back at the airport. Could you take me back?”

“Are you sure you can’t ask them to deliver it to you, Chanyeol? We are almost at your destination.”

Chanyeol was a hundred percent sure he hadn’t introduced himself. “No, it’s quite important.”

“The fare would be more expensive.”

“That’s ok.” He drew out his petty knife and hid it under his thigh, zipping up his bag again. He’d wait for the taxi to turn and – 

It swerved violently to the side, jerking him against the seatbelt and rattling his bones at the impact. Something crunched. His head smacked off the roof. Oh. He squinted as his vision cleared. He was upside down. Chanyeol scrambled for his seatbelt. Jammed. The driver’s seat was empty. Feet appeared outside his window.

 

The knife sliced him free and promptly snapped. Well . Chanyeol crumpled against the roof of the car, squeezing his legs around. Pain shot up his ankle, straight through his knee and searing through his nerves. He was going to have to run for it. The car door on his side rattled. 

He clicked his fingers and fire leapt into his palm. The door exploded outwards in a burst of flame and Chanyeol was crawling out after it, the heat dancing harmlessly over his skin. He heard metal crumple against someone. Hopefully it was the SM mage. He got to his feet. His ankle burned and yelled at him to stop. He told it to shut up. 

Limping heavily, Chanyeol shoved past a group of gaping bystanders, and forced his legs to move faster. Kyungsoo had to have felt that explosion of energy. Just to check, Chanyeol rubbed his fingers together again. Not even a spark. That was it for his magic today. 

A stitch flared in his side and he cursed it, taking a right and squeezing between two buildings. At least there weren’t any other people around here. Normal ones didn’t know about magic. By tomorrow morning the taxi company would be under fire for faulty vehicles. No pun intended.

 

Power tingled up his spine and Chanyeol threw himself sideways, losing the skin of his palms against bricks. Chanyeol turned to face his opponent and called out.

“Park Chanyeol.”

He wasn’t expecting an answer, but he got one. “Byun Baekhyun.”

Names were powerful. If they ended up dying somehow, they’d be able to find each other in the Spirit Realm to make peace. Not that Chanyeol blamed this guy. SM required its mages to follow orders like the Bible – it was one of the reasons why he left in the first place. 

Chanyeol blinked and the figure disappeared with a glimmer of light. There was only the slightest haze hanging about, a subtle use of magic that made it impossible to pinpoint him until – Chanyeol’s reaction was a beat too late and something slammed into the meat above his hip, making him stumble. He caught the glimpse of a hand before it faded back into invisibility, cloaked by light. How noble, Baekhyun had left the knife stuck in his side. 

Light mages were a pain to fight. 

He flailed for the handle and pulled it out with a wounded roar, dropping it without a second thought. He was more likely to stab himself by accident than his opponent. Chanyeol turned warily, waiting for that same brush of magic to come by.

 

Too much strain on his feet – Chanyeol’s ankle buckled, going weak, and he crumpled sideways, fetching up against the side of a building just in time to see another knife streak past his nose. A of luck. Hoping his good fortune would hold was a stupid idea. Light magic he couldn’t see, but he could detect heat just fine. 

He lunged for that vague outline of warmth and was rewarded with a handful of invisible cloth. Something slammed into his jaw and pain burst under his skin. Blind to his opponent, Chanyeol somehow managed to catch hold of something that felt like wrists, a slash opening over his forearm as they struggled until, finally, Byun Baekhyun melted back into sight. 

There wasn’t time to breathe. Baekhyun crowded in and stomped on his injured foot, right where it connected with the rest of his leg. Chanyeol’s ankle gave out for real this time and he almost bit off his tongue as they fell. 

As weak as he was, Chanyeol was still a whole lot heavier. He landed on top and – how many knives did this guy have? Chanyeol rolled off him fast. Not fast enough. Fingers dug into his neck and the back of his head slammed into the road.

 

Weight settled over his body, Baekhyun’s sharp knees digging into his shoulders and pinning him down. No matter how much he arched and heaved, Chanyeol couldn’t break free. A sharp edge pressed under his chin. Chanyeol panicked. 

Magic was supposed to be a natural flow of energy – there was nothing natural about Chanyeol’s fire this time. It tugged the heat from his veins, his heart, his spirit, and it exploded from his skin looking redder than blood. The weight on his chest disappeared.

 

Come on. Move. Move. He forced himself onto his elbows. Damn, Baekhyun didn’t look too burned. Mustn’t have been a lot of heat in that blast. Chanyeol staggered onto his feet and coughed. He wiped at his lips and his fingers came away red, shaky. Movement in the corner of his eye – the SM mage was getting up . 

A glint through the air. Chanyeol screwed his eyes shut and waited for the blade to skewer him. 

It didn’t. 

The ground beneath him trembled. A different sort of magic, heavier than light or fire, surged. Tarmac cracked and a wall of earth shot up between them, shielding Chanyeol from attack. Strong arms wriggled under his shoulders and Chanyeol glanced down to see Kyungsoo’s short, bristly hair. He was dimly aware of his voice.

“- move. Chanyeol, can you move?”

Chanyeol grunted and tried. Nothing was listening to him.

“Just around the corner – god you’re heavy.” Kyungsoo sounded muffled, as if he was speaking from a distance. Chanyeol shouldn’t have allowed that last burst of magic. His vision blurred darker and darker. Then everything went black.

 

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SM was one of the biggest Guilds in South Korea, popular with a lot of young mages as a place to train. That’s how Guilds were supposed to work, a group of mages supporting each other, helping the next generation control their magic and live relatively normal lives. Jongin was pretty sure that was how SM operated until the new Guild master came into power. 

Jongin’s contract tingled under his ear as he materialized into SM building. It was quite literal, one moment he was in his shared apartment and the next he was here, squinting against artificial lights. A gaggle of teens, foreign mages in training by the looks of it, stared at his effortless display of magic. 

Teleporting was crazy dangerous, easy to mess up if you weren’t concentrated, difficult to fully control, but Jongin got the hang of it. There’d been another mage with a similar sort of magic. Long story short: he ed up. So Jongin ended up with the title of SM’s only teleporter. He wished he never did.

 

Most of SM’s mages went the length of their contract without ever finding out the truth. But, as in Jongin’s unfortunate case, if your magic was particularly useful you’d be ordered to carry out specific tasks that were less pleasant. Most mages complied. Others refused and died. Then there were the few that looked for escape. The number of successful escapees was pitifully small. 

Jongin was a rather special case. 

Jongdae was managing the front desk tonight.

“Any jobs yet?”

“Nope.” Jongdae lifted his head, propping it on his arm with a sigh. “Orders roll in at midnight.”

Jongin his lips nervously and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’ll be out for a few minutes.”

“You’re always out.”

“If anyone asks, I’m still in the building ok? You just don’t know where.”

That got Jongdae’s attention. He perked up, eyes sharp. The only two people Jongin could trust were Jongdae and Baekhyun. He hadn’t told Baekhyun for… reasons. Jongdae made a shooing motion.

“Go. Come back quick or I’ll zap you I swear to god.” A spark of lightning jumped between his fingers. Jongin gave him a reassuring smile.

“Thanks.” Jongin turned around, his new destination set firmly in his mind’s eye, and surrounded himself with magic. 

 

The tiles morphed into tarmac, a chilly gust of wind snatching at his clothes, and he was standing in the middle of an empty street. Jongin slid to the side and waited. Kyungsoo said he’d be coming any time soon – there he was. 

Jongin sprinted to meet him, calling out, watching Kyungsoo’s head snap up at the sound. He was moving slow, practically dragging a man behind him. Jongin didn’t ask questions. He never had to ask questions with Kyungsoo because Kyungsoo told him everything. In a blink, Jongin was beside him, grasping his shoulder. With an inhale he pulled at his magic, forcing it around all three of them, and with an exhale, his surroundings warped once more. His ears popped. 

Streetlights melted into walls, tarmac fading to wood. Jongin knew Kyungsoo’s little safe house like the back of his hand.

 

“Thank you.” Kyungsoo grunted, trying to manhandle an unconscious Chanyeol onto one of his couches. Jongin silently helped him, so aware of the limited time they had. So close, Jongin could see the scar under his ear, where SM’s contract had once been. Jongin’s own, active contract buzzed sadly.

“Hey.” Cool fingers under his chin, Kyungsoo’s wide eyes holding his. “I meant it. Thank you.”

Jongin smiled, running his hand up the back of Kyungsoo’s neck and tilting their heads for a kiss. It was brief. Everything was brief. As an SM mage, this man was supposed to be his enemy.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” Then Jongin released him, stepped back, and let his magic whisk him away.

 

He was barely back in real space when a familiar jolt of pain zipped down his thigh. He yelped.

“Jongdae! I swear I was quick.”

“You were, I just wanted to give you a little shock.” Jongdae grinned, but it lacked the usual laughter he carried. There wasn’t anyone else around them. “The jobs rolled in.”

Jongin checked the time. 12:01am. “Yeah, and?”

“Here’s yours. Read it. Now.”

Confused, Jongin tore open the envelope and took out the hand written note. 

Here was how stuff worked in SM: Obey or die. In the same way Jongin manipulated spaces and Kyungsoo earth, the current Guild master used blood. A scene replayed in Jongin’s head. There was a mage who tried to escape once, didn’t destroy the contract first. A snap of the master’s fingers and she’d exploded. Jongin felt the same chill of horror he had that day when he read the note.

Kill Do Kyungsoo.

“You’ve been too obvious.” Jongdae hissed at him, “you can’t keep doing this. The master suspects. All he needs to do is catch you out once and you’re dead. Kyungsoo has been considered a traitor ever since he ran and you’re helping him.”

“Dae –”

“I’m not saying what’s right and what’s wrong, but you need to make a decision. Kill him, refuse the order and die, or escape. You’ve got a week.”

“I can’t do any of those.”

“Why not? Because Kyungsoo needs a little spy?” Static crackled in Jongdae’s hair. “I don’t know him so I can’t tell if he’s worth it, but are you willing to get smeared all over the walls?”

“I know what I’m doing, just three more days, Dae. I promise I won’t die, ok?”

Jongdae leaned back in his seat and raised an eyebrow. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” 

 

Jongin left SM building with a cloud of misery hanging around his head, appearing back in his shared apartment with his head hanging and heavy with dread. He flopped onto a sofa and stared at the note. That was how Baekhyun found him an hour later, still and unmoving.

“I’m home.” Too lost in his thoughts, Jongin didn’t register how pissed Baekhyun sounded until he slammed the door shut and the overhead lights flickered.

“Hey.”

“The only reason I’m still alive is because I only half ed up my job.”

“What happened?” Jongin shuffled over and Baekhyun collapsed next to him. There was blood on his sleeve and bandages binding his hands. He smelt like smoke. Baekhyun sighed.

“Got a job to run after an escaped mage – the fire one. Park Chanyeol.”

Jongin stiffened. He didn’t know Baek had been out there. “Did you get him?”

“Well, I did part one ok. Got his blood. Didn’t get around to killing him. The master seemed pretty pleased for some reason when I reported that Do Kyungsoo was helping Park.”

He’d known that, of course he did. But he didn’t know Baekhyun, of all people, was assigned the job. Jongin’s thoughts blanked. “They were working together?”

Baekhyun didn’t answer. Then a hand yanked at Jongin’s collar and sent him tumbling to the floor. Instinctively, Jongin bucked, trying to throw off Baekhyun’s weight, but he’d been caught unawares and Baekhyun had him pinned.

“Baek –”

“I could sense your magic Jongin what the hell were you doing there?”

Jongin almost stopped breathing. “What are you talking about?”

The grip moved to his neck, pressing down dangerously. “I’m not stupid. One minute I’m chasing them down the road, the next minute they’re gone. Poof. Disappeared. You may not be the only teleporter in Seoul, but I’m pretty damn sure that was you.”

“I was in the SM building.”

“Yeah, nice try. Jongdae said that too. I don’t know what game you’re playing, but dragging Jongdae into it is ed up. You could get him killed.”

“Baek –”

“I thought you said you’d cut ties with Do Kyungsoo.”

Oh. So that’s what it was about. Baekhyun had never liked Kyungsoo, even before he’d escaped. It was simple to remember but a headache to think about. Jongin had had two choices and he had picked Kyungsoo.

Jongin didn’t think Baekhyun would rat him out; as complex as it was, they were still friends. Basically any sort of bond would have priority over the damn contract. But this…

“It’s none of your business, Baek.”

“It’s my business if you’re messing up my job.” Baekhyun released him and stood, disgusted. “You’re selfish, you know? You follow after him with tunnel vision and you don’t care who you screw over to get there.”

“Well, I don’t want to just sit here and kill people.” Jongin pushed himself up, the beginnings of anger bubbling in the pit of his stomach. “Don’t you feel anything? When the master sends you off on a kill order, you obey like some sort of dog. At least I’m not a murderer.”

The overhead light shattered. Jongin bit his tongue. He wanted to swallow it. “Baek –”

He was shoved over, his hand landing on shards of glass. He could barely feel the pain.

“Baek, I didn’t mean that –” He heard Baekhyun’s bedroom door close. He wasn’t sure if he heard a sob.

 

Jongin cradled his hand and sighed, fumbling for an extra light bulb. Baekhyun used to blow out the lights a few times a week when they were younger. Those were simpler times. He checked the clock and started to pick out the pieces of glass in his palm. He’d give it an hour then go apologize. No matter what, they were still friends, even though their naïve sparks of hope and wonder at the magical world had long since died out.

 

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It was freezing cold. Had he died? Chanyeol couldn’t rule out the probability that he’d spontaneously combusted – magic overuse could be fatal. Was this what the Spirit realm felt like? He thought it’d be warmer.

“Chanyeol.” A voice faded into his consciousness, a mere whisper. Kris? “Chanyeol come on, I need you awake – no, for the sake of all mages, don’t move.”

Chanyeol went limp again, too dizzy to go through with trying to sit up. “Kris.”

“It’s Kyungsoo.” Something cold pressed against his forehead. “, you’re still burning up. What’s your normal body temperature?”

“Higher than yours.” He couldn’t quite remember. “Forty… forty-something.”

“Uh-huh.”

What was he lying in? Too hard to be a bed and it was cold. The pressure on his forehead disappeared and something clinked. He was still struggling to open his eyes when freezing water gushed over his face.

 

Chanyeol spluttered, eyes flying open. He was still alive. He’d been sitting in a bathtub. He focused just in time to watch Kyungsoo heave a bucket of water – the clinking was from ice – up to the side of the tub and tip it over.

“, Soo don’t –”

“Your clothes were catching fire.” The tap . “And I really don’t want my home to go up in flames. Don’t move, your wounds will rip again.”

Chanyeol settled back and shivered miserably, feeling the chill seep into his bones. The ice was already half melted. This time, Kyungsoo lifted a bag of it and dumped it all into the tub.

“I took your clothes off. Hope you don’t mind.”

Chanyeol groaned again. The skin down his side felt unnaturally tight and tingly, whatever damage done was healing, but that was the least of his worries. Kyungsoo’s face swam into view.

“You fire mages are always so damn emotional, exploding everywhere, absolutely no control.” Kyungsoo picked up the bucket again. “I think you’re safe for now.”

“Great.”

“Stay awake.” Fingers snapped under his nose. “C’mon – you know your fire goes wild when you’re unconscious. Eyes on me.”

Chanyeol fumbled for something, anything that would keep his attention, and went with it. “Kris.”

“I’m still not Kris.”

“I know. Where is he?” He paused for a moment. “Where am I?”

“Ok, one question at a time. As long as you stay awake, I’ll keep going.”

Chanyeol nodded once and stopped, his head swirling unpleasantly. He stared at the melting ice as he waited for Kyungsoo to continue.

“This is one of my safe houses, a friend of mine got us here.”

“What –”

“I’m not done yet. Kris – he’s alive. That’s really all I know.” Kyungsoo leant against the tub, arms crossed. “I know you want him back but I’m not letting you prance in there and get yourself killed. We’ll get him back, but you need to cool it.”

“I’m cool.”

A raised eyebrow was all he got. “Anyways, the only reason Kris is complying is probably because they’ve forced him under another contract.” He pointed. “You’re fire.”

“Yeah.”

“And I’m earth.”

“Soo –”

“And the Guild master uses blood but that’s rare as hell.” Not one magic was more powerful than another. It was all in how you used it. Kyungsoo reached under the bathroom sink and handed him a thermometer. “Basic magic rules. Equivalent exchange. Magic of the same type or level can cancel each other out. Yeol, there’s another blood mage in Seoul.”

The thermometer beeped. Fifty degrees. That was as close as he was going to get. Chanyeol ignored Kyungsoo’s irritated huff and twisted around to unplug the tub. The water was tinged red. “You’re saying he can undo the contracts.”

“Yes. We just need to find him.”

Step 1: Kill a bear with your bare hands. Chanyeol wilted. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It’s why I called on you and Kris in the first place. There are only two people other than the master who know where he is. Do you remember the brothers?”

Two water mages. The older one liked ice. “Minseok and Joonmyun? I used to do jobs with Joonmyun.” Good times.

“According to Jongin, they’ve been the ones running after this second blood mage. Tried to kill him a few times too, apparently the master didn’t like having competition.” A towel fell over Chanyeol’s face. “They’ve failed one too many times and they’d rather take their chances and run than risk facing the master, but I can’t get them out by myself. Which was why I called you guys.”

Chanyeol didn’t hesitate. Anything for Kris. “So we’re helping them run?”

“Yes. You’ve got six hours to freshen up. They’re set to leave for Mokpo by bullet train and they’ll take a plane out from there. Incheon airport’s too busy to be safe.”

 

As he let Kyungsoo towel him dry, Chanyeol breathed a sigh of relief. Kyungsoo hadn’t asked him the glaring question: Why had Kris come back first? If Chanyeol had come with him, none of this would have happened. His eyes prickled with water. He hadn’t wanted to return, it was too risky, dangerous for the both of them. Kris, of course, had wanted to help. Their argument had ended with the bitter sound of a door slamming shut and from then on, Kris had ignored all his calls. 

“Do we have a name for this blood mage?”

Kyungsoo helped him out of the tub. “He goes by ‘Lay.’ Definitely not his real name but for now it’s all we’ve got.”

 

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“No, Yixing, listen to me –”

An eerie humming from the phone was all Luhan got. He sighed and his breath misted. The heater was broken and this far up north, the winter was early and harsh. Beside him, Tao shivered, from the cold or Yixing’s talk Luhan couldn’t tell. Luhan tried again.

“Yixing, you need to get out of Seoul.” The car wobbled and Luhan almost veered off the country road. They’d been travelling for two hours already and Luhan was on less than two hours of sleep.

“No.”

“Xingxing, please –”

“No.” The humming continued. There was no use in arguing with him. The phone was on speaker, but Tao hadn’t said a word so far. It was probably best that he kept his silence. When Yixing told them not to join SM they should have listened to him, and Tao wasn’t the most levelheaded of people, especially in an argument. Tao had never apologized, but it wasn’t out of pettiness. Any time he’d tried to speak with Yixing had ended disastrously. Yixing wasn’t the most levelheaded of people either, especially when holding grudges.

Luhan felt the beginnings of a headache building between his eyes. He hadn’t even used magic today.

“What are you singing, Xingxing?”

“It’s what the blood sounds like.” A brief moment of nothing. “It’s been really loud recently.”

Ah. That would explain Yixing’s floaty attention. Luhan and Tao had known Yixing since they were children and that was long enough to understand the intricacies of blood magic and its mages. For Yixing, it was as if he was casting magic twenty-four hours a day for every day of the year. The endless energy from his own blood and the force of others sometimes snapped him under the stress.

“What do you mean it’s loud?”

“Hm?”

“Why is it so loud?” Luhan flicked on the right indicator. He didn’t want to risk passing through any main cities – that’s where SM could spot them. No one said China would be safer than Korea.

“Because there’s a lot of it.”

“And why can’t you leave Seoul?”

“Come back first, then I’ll tell you.”

Luhan opened his mouth to argue. The call cut off. “.”

“Lu, slow down.” Tao put a hand on his knee, speaking softly, eyeing the speed meter. Luhan eased off the accelerator. Just a little. “You know we won’t be able to get anything out of him.”

But they were going back anyways. They owed Yixing, a lot, and for the sake of whatever thin strings of loyalty left from their childhood bonds, they had to answer his call. They were going back to Seoul.

 

Another half hour on the road and Luhan was falling asleep. It was a shade lighter than pitch dark outside, the only clear source of light from the car’s headlights. Luhan blinked once. He blinked twice. The third time he closed his eyes he almost forgot how to open them until –

“Lu –”

He snapped awake in time to see the boy standing in the middle of the damn road. 

Luhan slammed on the brakes so hard he lifted off the seat. Magic pulsed and he felt the car lock up and freeze. Tao’s panicked burst of magic was still not enough to stop them in time. The car shuddered at the impact, a terrible crunching sound, and the boy caught in the headlights was sent flying into the darkness.

 

“, what the .” They scrambled out, horrified. Luhan the flashlight in his phone. “Where is he – oh spirits.”

The thin beam of light found bare feet, scraped and bloody, then the calves and the knees connected to it. Luhan crouched down by the boy’s head and checked for a pulse. Still strong. It came with a weak flutter of magic. Mage. By some unspoken agreement, Tao took Luhan’s place.

“Hey, I’m Tao.”

The nearest city was almost an hour away. An ambulance wouldn’t make it faster than they could. Their only option: use Tao’s time magic to freeze everything until they got help. It had worked before. To their surprise, the boy’s eyelids trembled and opened. A pained whisper.

“Oh Sehun.” Korean. Tao switched, his tongue bending oddly around a language he hadn’t spoken for so long.

“I’ll have to cast magic on you ok? We need to get you to a hospital.”

“No.” The kid didn’t seem that beat up, actually. Luhan wasn’t sure what his magic was, but it had done its job protecting him. “No hospital.”

“What –”

“No.” His breath rattled and his words slurred. Then he moved. Tao looked ready to go ahead and use his magic, regardless of what Sehun said, until fingers smeared blood under his ear. Right where the scar of his SM brand lay. “No hospital. No city… no SM.”

Luhan’s brain forgot how to register words for a few seconds. He recovered faster than Tao did. “Ok. Ok, no SM. But you need to get to a hospital. We’ll be with you ok? No SM.”

Sehun’s hand fell slack and for a horrible moment, Luhan thought he’d died. Then a strained demand reached their ears.

“Name.” Names were important.

“This one’s Huang Zitao. I’m Lu Han. We’ll help you, ok?”

Sehun breathed a small noise. Tao must have taken it as a go ahead because he placed a hand on Sehun’s chest and let his magic flow. Sehun stopped breathing. Luhan knew that if he’d cut him, Sehun wouldn’t bleed either. Frozen in time.

 

They sacrificed their jackets and bundled up his stiff body, carefully putting him in the back, head resting on Tao’s lap. Luhan floored it and they zoomed off again. There was no need to question it – neither of them would have left Sehun out there to die.

“How long can you hold it?” He spoke over his shoulder. Casting magic was like balancing a scale, energy for power. Mages were people who could take energy from the Spirit realm and convert it. Use too much, however, and it recoiled. Luhan had seen a fire mage go up in flames from overuse and he never wanted to know what would happen to a time mage like Tao.

“Long enough. I’ll be fine.” He already sounded so tired. Luhan would have to take his word for it. “What about Yixing?”

“He’ll understand if we’re a little late.” And he would. He wouldn’t have left the kid alone either. Maybe ‘kid’ was a bit too young of a term, Sehun looked close to the end of his teens, just a bit younger than Tao was. Wait… how long had Sehun been running around with no shoes, a shirt and jeans?

“Lu, what are we going to do if SM spots us?” Tao asked quietly. Luhan shrugged. They’d fought their way out of SM before, but that had been with Kris. What a trio they used to make. He had a feeling that SM would be on their asses soon enough, especially if this kid had mentioned them.

“We’ll have to fight.”

“We’re missing our leader.”

Luhan could hear the hint of a smile in Tao’s voice. It was true – in many ways, Kris had been their leader. He’d stayed back in Seoul, after they’d left, to help others escape. It had been too easy, the way they lost contact. Luhan couldn’t help but wonder if he was even alive today.