Octavia came up screaming.

She had no idea that she was wailing at all until her throat began to burn. She didn't remember emerging from the darkness, nor did she remember where she was. She hardly cared. She remembered the end, and that was what mattered. She clawed at her scalp, tangling her fingers violently into her hair as she lost her mind aloud.

"Octavia?" Harper cried, nearly dropping Royal Orleans. Two spent tolls were an indicator of their own. He shunned the trumpet beneath the birch in favor of both hands upon Octavia's shoulders.

"Octavia, what's wrong?" Viola exclaimed in turn, scrambling to her feet as she crawled out of the river.

What happiness had bloomed around her now screeched to a standstill. Eyes were on her. Her name was born of several voices. Octavia's panic was a magnet for attention, and a tiny part of her loathed it. Still, there was nothing to do but scream. It was uncontrollable. In every conceivable way, it burned, and the revelation replayed in her head even now.

She couldn't tell him. There was absolutely, with certainty, no way that she could tell him.

"Octavia, please, talk to me!" Harper shouted desperately, shaking her shoulders. "What happened?"

Octavia could only shake her head, her fingers still burrowed deep into her hair. "No, no!"

"Octavia, it's okay, you can tell me! It'll be alright!"

"I can't!" she sobbed.

"Why not?" he cried, his own tone slowly growing more frantic.

"I can't, I can't, I can't!" Octavia repeated.

"Octavia, whatever it is, I can take it, I promise! I wouldn't have asked you to tell me if I couldn't! Please! What did you see?" Harper begged.

"Octavia, calm down, just talk to us," Viola pleaded. "What's going on?"

"It was them, right?" Harper interrupted. His grip on her shoulders tightened into something almost painful. Octavia wondered if she deserved it. For what, she wasn't sure.

When she didn't respond, Harper didn't let up. "Octavia, please, at least tell me that."

Octavia nodded, tears streaming down her face. His eyes shimmered with the same, albeit withheld by comparison.

Harper cupped her cheek with one hand, gently brushing aside a stray tear with his thumb. "I'm the one who asked you to do this. I need to know what happened to them, I'm begging you. I know it'll be bad. I'm prepared for that. Please don't shut me out. Okay?"

This was a bad idea. This was a really, really bad idea.

Stradivaria.

Yes?

Stratos answered her prayer, the warmth of his voice in her head mildly calming. Even without him immediately present or her mouth moving, the knowledge that he could still hear her in the general vicinity was a relief. It didn't solve much by default.

What do I do? Do I have to?

The pains you bear witness to as the Ambassador are your own to carry. From there, it is solely your decision as to with whom, if any, such pains are shared.

What do you think I should do?

It is not my place to say. The choice must be your own.

"Octavia, breathe for a minute. We'll talk it out together. I don't know what you saw, but that's the last toll you have to do for now, right? We can take a break," Viola offered softly.

Viola's face was so like his. Where she thought of him, she thought of her. The words came out before she'd even processed they'd left her mouth.

"Vincent," Octavia murmured.

Two syllables were enough to drag the world to a halt. Viola stopped breathing altogether. Every last drop of color drained from her face as her blank gaze met Octavia's own. Ever so slowly, she turned her head towards Harper. His confusion was of a different flavor, visually. The name didn't click immediately, and yet the look on Viola's face was enough for him to tense.

Viola's eyes flickered between Octavia and Harper wordlessly. Octavia wanted to run. For how white Viola's clenched knuckles were as she forewent oxygen altogether, she was confident there was one person who wanted to flee more than she did.

Harper blinked. He blinked again. He blinked several times over, shaking his head slowly. There came a point where it was no longer slow. There came a point at which the moment it hit was visible in his eyes. There came a point at which the recognition of the name sent every pained emotion on earth flickering across his face. His hands trembled severely, and the rest of him followed soon after. Parted lips offered nothing but rattling breaths. Eventually, those, too, weren't slow.

His gaze snapped to Octavia's, and it was utterly indiscernible. Whatever plea lay beneath the agony in his pupils was useless. Octavia's heart was shattering in time with his soul, for what she could see in his eyes. She'd already gone too far. She couldn't lie. She couldn't take it back. She couldn't change the way he'd been so sickeningly wronged by the world. She sincerely feared she'd faint.

Viola reached out one trembling hand of her own, the white tint of knuckles once taut still painting her skin. "Harper, I-I--"

Fearful eyes, flooding with something unknown, stabbed her in the heart instead. With one scathing, painful glance, Harper turned on his heel. He ran.

He was the one person faster than Octavia. Still, their gap in skill wasn't unfathomable. If she sprinted with all she had from this very moment, she could catch him. She was certain. Even so, once she did, she'd have nothing to offer him.

"I'm sorry," Viola murmured, her voice cracking.

Her attention was torn between two of the heaviest burdens she'd ever seen crushing the innocent. Nestling her face into the crook of Viola's neck, she offered what few platitudes she could find. "It's not your fault."

"I'm so sorry," Viola repeated.

The bitter tears that began to drip down her cheeks stung Octavia's own. She only clung to Viola tighter, with or without the Maestra's returned embrace. "You didn't do anything wrong. This has nothing to do with you."

"Don't lie to me," Viola sobbed.

"You're not guilty of anything he did. I know you know that."

Joy was gone. Sorrow took its place in full. Their circle of bystanders to the sorrowful spectacle had drawn near, although with little support of their own to contribute. To be fair, Octavia had so little to give, just as well. She respected their attempts, and not once did she free Viola.

"Octavia's right," Madrigal tried softly. "Your father's actions are his alone. They're not Viola's."

"But still, this is all sorts of messed up," Renato muttered. "I don't…really understand. I thought you said there were three? People your dad killed, I mean?"

"And that was four people," Josiah finished.

"Guys," Octavia warned sharply. This wasn't the time.

"How did they die?" Viola whispered, nearly out of Octavia's earshot.

She strongly debated answering. To be fair, they were already in this deep. "His mother was stabbed. His father was…I guess a head injury. Got hit over and over. I haven't really stopped to piece it together, but I'm…assuming his mother died first. The house only went up in flames after his father was left to die."

"Left to die?" Viola asked, her wavering voice stabilizing somewhat. "He didn't kill him?"

"He did. I just…don't know if he knew."

Viola was silent for a moment. She wriggled out of Octavia's grasp, wiping her eyes with the palms of her hands. "Then I know why there were only three. I…we can talk about it later. I just want Harper to be okay."

"Where do you think he went?" Madrigal murmured.

Octavia cast her eyes towards the path of his hurtful flight. "I have a few ideas, but I'm not confident."

"Should we give him some space?" Renato offered.

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Octavia paused. "I don't know. I'm worried about him. I at least want to know he's somewhere safe."

"Then we should go before he gets too far away. What's the first place you thought of?" Josiah asked.

She had one suspicion. Granted, the distance was far enough and the location tricky enough that she risked losing his trail more every second. She was nearly bouncing on her heels in anxiety. "It's far. I need to go now if I'm gonna beat him there. I think I can catch up to him."

"Then go!" Renato said. "We'll check Viola's place."

"And we'll check the forest and the city, too," Madrigal added. "Don't worry."

Viola was quiet. It didn't escape Octavia. Exactly half of her wanted to stay and hold the girl forever. Whether or not it would steal the guilt from her shoulders was debatable. In the end, it was her fault for putting it there in the first place. The thought tore her heart to shreds.

She threw every regret beneath her boots, stamping each into the dirt one by one as she sprinted. Hurtling deep into the woods, blurring greenery and showering shade were enough to hide her tears. It was all she could do to hold them back, and she blinked away what she could as she ran. It wasn't the time. She could hate herself later.

Her footsteps echoed, subtle as the sound came. She thought she was going insane, at first. Not once did it slow, nor did it overtake her. It took effort to glance over her shoulder as she dodged sharpened shrubbery and dangling branches ahead. At the very least, the ambience of pursuit was attached to something physical.

"What are you doing?" she cried between labored breaths, paced as they were.

"I'm coming with you," Josiah called back, drawing ever nearer to her with impressive agility. "Two sets of eyes are better than one, and I don't want you going alone. Besides, I'm the only other person who can keep up with you."

So often did she forget. After all, he was the boy who'd outrun devastation itself. They burst into the sunlight in tandem, frantic footsteps carrying them well across grassy fields on the path to Coda. Octavia kept her eyes forward and her sprint endless, single-minded as it was. It was easier than letting her thoughts run in every direction imaginable. She couldn't control it.

Fields were easier than forests, for what obstacles left her alone. She could hit her full stride, and she didn't hesitate to do so. Whatever brought her closer to Harper was utterly necessary. It kept her from checking her path, just the same. It wasn't as though there was much to trip over, nor that they'd left more than pain in their wake. There was no reason for Josiah to throw his eyes behind him that much. She didn't have the time to ask.

Truthfully, Octavia didn't remember the exact direction of the camp. Twisting alleyways along the backroads of Coda were a maze only Harper himself had mastered, a puzzle that guarded orphans from the harsh judgment of the city. Her panicked sprint at the time had done little to solidify any directions she could've committed to memory.

She took her best guess, retracing her steps from a humble little flower shop to what winding corners she did recall. Josiah was silent for most of her navigational contemplation, by which he knew next to nothing of her final destination. It took far longer than she was willing to admit just to find the alley in the first place.

"Is this it?" he asked, peering down the narrow corridor. Snuggled between two shade-soaked, lifeless buildings, it was as good as she was going to get.

Octavia tested her hypothesis with tentative steps. "I think so."

Josiah was hesitant. It showed on his face. To his credit, he followed regardless. "Where are we going, anyway?"

Octavia sighed. "How much do you know about Harper, exactly?"

He shrugged. "I feel like I'm learning a lot about him today."

She scoffed. "You and me both."

"You didn't answer my question."

"He's got…family on the far side of the city. Either he's with them, or they might have an idea of where he went."

"I thought his parents were dead."

He wasn't wrong. It was still blunt, and Octavia winced. "You'll see what I mean."

What began as a narrow corridor began to splinter, an array of sharp turns offering too many options. She'd been worried about this part. Racking her memory was fruitless, and any attempts to assemble a valid route were a mess. Octavia threw caution to the wind and chanced a left.

"Is he mad at Viola, do you think?" Josiah continued.

Octavia shook her head. "He wouldn't be. He's not the kind of person to confuse people's…choices like that."

She was lying, partially. Harper was kind to a fault, and yet this was an absolute outlier. She knew him. She liked to imagine that she knew his heart. Under no circumstances had she expected this scenario, let alone could she predict his emotions in its aftermath. It didn't matter whether Viola was guilty of crimes not her own. She was a Vacanti. That might've been enough.

Octavia took a right.

"That's...most of the tolls now," Josiah offered, changing the subject. The distraction would've been nice. For the direction it risked heading, she feared that topic more.

Octavia took a left. "Uh huh," she muttered.

"There's still three we can get to. Two right now, but technically three."

Another left. "I know."

"And…once we're done with those, we have to start looking for other Maestros, right?"

She stole another right. It was a miracle that he'd strayed from what could've been a distressing conversation. "I haven't thought that far ahead yet."

"I don't know where we'd even start to look. We don't know if there's more in Mezzoria. We don't know if we're gonna have to go off the continent. We don't even know if there's more in the damn city."

She went straight for once, trailing the path downwards. "We'll figure it out. We all found each other, somehow. I'm sure there's a way to find more."

"Between the six of us, there's six Harmonial Instruments. That's six Muses, even if we can't get to one of them. Ninety left to go. Ninety left to find in the first place, honestly."

Yet another left. "We can figure it out after we find Harper."

"Octavia," he said softly.

"Yes?"

His footsteps faded. When she peered over her shoulder, he'd come to a halt. His expression fell somewhere between blank and pained. "There's...actually two more that we…we know where they are."

It took her a moment. When it sank in, her heart could've stopped. This wasn't the time or the place. It would never be the time or the place, probably.

"How are we…gonna get to them?"

Don't think about it. Don't think about it. Don't think about it. Don't think about it.

It was easier to think about shuffling debris. It was a reflex, actually, distant down the corridor as it was. The sound came with a silhouette, and it was the first company they'd encountered since breaching the alleyway. A wave earned her nothing, for how their back was turned. In tandem with the gap, she would've gone unseen regardless.

"Hello?" she called.

Only then did she earn acknowledgement, a sharp jerk of a distant neck offered in turn. Tethered hair whipped her shadow-clad stranger as they moved, and yet Octavia could make out nothing more. She could make out their escape, at least, darting behind a corner she hadn't curved around on her own.

"Wait!" Octavia cried.

Her feet moved before her thoughts caught up. Josiah followed in her wake without question. Every turn she stole from the fleeing visage so distant was new. Some even came adjacent to those she'd attempted, by which she feared she'd lose her way yet more. Keeping up wasn't an issue. Still, they were swift, practically soundless as they dipped in and out of abundant shadows.

Each corner was a reflex, and they didn't hesitate for a moment. Following them at all was a gamble. Frankly, at this point, stopping would leave Octavia more lost than she could ever undo alone. There would be no Harper to save her.

One left came too quick, and she almost lost her faceless target altogether. Her eyes faltered for a brief moment as they dashed behind a wall. It took significant effort to lower her body, brace her muscles, and do all she could to round the bend in time. She feared outrunning Josiah. The alternative was scathing disorientation. With all she had, she kicked off, desperate to catch her escaping guide.

All she caught was pain, instant and throbbing.

The recoil was immediate, and Octavia crashed to the hard ground below as her hands rushed to her face. Ideally, she wasn't bleeding. Her immobile assailant had been softer than a wall, at least. They were immobile no longer, stumbling backwards in the wake of the graceless collision. It wasn't quite a mutual exchange of suffering. It was still enough for them to share groans of pain.

"Octavia!" Josiah cried, dropping to his knees at her side. With care, he cradled her head in his arms. "God, are you okay?"

"Watch where you're going, damn," her obstacle growled, rubbing his hand against one reddened cheek.

"Move your hands," Josiah ordered, already doing so himself. "Let me see."

She wasn't bleeding, granted. Still, the lack of pressure left her face aching yet more. Looking upwards was a welcome distraction, if not confusing. If she squinted, she could almost recognize the messy curls. The bare feet were just as familiar. There was a violin attached to him, once, although the latter had been scathingly unfortunate. It took her a moment. When she found the name, it floated through her head in Harper's voice, splattered with aggravation.

"Domino," she said bluntly.

The boy raised an eyebrow, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Have we met?"

She winced. "I, uh…once. I think?"

Recognition dawned on his face, and his eyes widened in just the slightest. He gave her a lazy nod. "Oh, yeah. Harper's girlfriend. Right."

Octavia rolled her eyes. "No."

"You know him?" Josiah asked. For the most part, he was still primarily fixated on inspecting her injuries.

"He knows Harper," she answered.

"And I don't know you," Domino added, tilting his head towards Josiah.

He raised one hand in a half-hearted wave. "Josiah, then. You know where Harper is?"

Domino scoffed. "You guys managed to lose him? I'm not his owner. How should I know? He's with you people more often than he's with us."

Octavia chose her words carefully. "He ran somewhere, and we're…trying to figure out where he went."

Domino shrugged. "He's not with us, so he's probably off crying somewhere again like he always does. One of his moods."

When he earned only two confused gazes in unison, he gave an aggravated sigh, plucking at one stray curl. "Look, he puts on this big tough guy act and runs away to sulk when nobody's looking. If no one can find him, he's probably at home. He hasn't had one of his tantrums in awhile, though."

"Home?" Octavia pressed. "I thought you said he wasn't at the camp?"

Domino stared blankly at her for a moment. "His home. Or, at least, what's left of it."

Words escaped her. Josiah filled in where she faltered, and she appreciated that much. If her heart broke on Harper's behalf any further today, she wouldn't have one left by the time she slept tonight. She didn't particularly want to cry in front of Domino.

"It still exists? Where is it?" Josiah asked.

Domino jutted one thumb behind him lazily. "Take one left and one right, go past the camp, and go left until you hit another construction area. Head into the woods far enough to the north of that and you'll find abandoned houses. From there, you'll know which one."

"How will we--"

"You'll know, idiot. Use your head."

Josiah winced, swallowing what words he had left.

"Do you…want to come with us?" Octavia offered.

Domino was silent. He didn't dignify her with an answer, instead gifting her nothing but dust as he turned on one heel. With his back to her, Octavia was left to watch his departure from the ground.

"Hey, did you hear me?" she called.

"Yeah," he called back.

"Do you want to come with us, then?" Octavia asked again.

"Why would I?"

She blinked. "Aren't you worried about Harper?" she called louder, blighted by the growing distance.

For the briefest moment, his steps slowed, and he nearly came to a halt. His fingers curled into fists at his sides, small shoulders rising and falling with the effort of a sigh. He found his way forward again, eventually, hardly gracing her with an answer.

"Why should I care about someone who doesn't care about us anymore?" Domino spat.

He was out of sight before Octavia could so much as begin assembling a response, stealing into shadows her eyes couldn't dissect. She thought to follow, and yet she doubted it'd be worth it--let alone productive. For a moment, it was all she could do to stare at where he'd last stood, still bound to the earth as she was.

"We should go," Josiah said. "It sounds like a bit of a walk."

Octavia gave him a slow nod, slipping one hand into his outstretched own as she struggled to her feet. Her physical pain had weakened to a dull ache. In its place, her concern for Harper continued to curse her with new flavors of hurt.

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